Memoirs of Your Local Small-time Villainess-Chapter 324 - First stops

The carriage rocked gently as it rolled down the snow-covered cobble streets of Freybrook, passing rows of homes, frost-covered streetlamps, and the occasional shopfront displaying its wares. Inside the cabin, a cozy warmth lingered—a welcome contrast to the chill outside—courtesy of the enchantments woven into the vehicle’s frame. Meanwhile, bundled pedestrians trudged through the icy streets, their faces red from the cold.

“So, do we have any idea yet where our first stop’ll be?” Rosa’s smooth voice came from Scarlett’s left as the bard leaned forward, peering past her to take in the snowy view.

“No,” Scarlett replied curtly, her gaze fixed on the passing storefronts.

“Yeah, figured as much.” Rosa released a light chuckle. She turned to the woman seated across from them. “How about you? Got any suggestions, Ev?”

Scarlett glanced to the opposite seat, where Evelyne sat, wrapped in a thick blanket that draped over her legs. The younger woman hesitated, her voice halting as she answered. “Oh, um, I’m not sure. It doesn’t really matter to me.”

Evelyne’s auburn hair fell just past her shoulders, partially obscuring her right eye and parts of her face. Though most of the bandages on her face had been removed, a strip of cloth still ran from her left temple down her cheek, covering what Scarlett heard was a jagged gash that hadn’t fully healed. The skin around it remained slightly inflamed as a reminder of the injury. Beneath her heavy coat, most of her left arm was still bandaged and supported by a simple splint.

Overall, her recovery had been slow but steady. Evelyne had at least regained enough strength to leave her room and occasionally wander the mansion, though she still needed to move carefully. According to Garside, there had been several instances where he’d had to step in to keep her from overworking herself — often in direct defiance of Scarlett’s orders.

Scarlett found Evelyne’s injuries no less frustrating now than when they’d first happened, even as that irritation was tempered with other, more complicated feelings. She still wasn’t entirely sure why she’d agreed to bring Evelyne along — nor, she suspected, was Evelyne. But there were things they needed to discuss, and this might be as good a time as any to start thawing the ice between them.

Or maybe Scarlett had simply felt unwilling to disappoint Garside, who had clearly believed the trip might help them both. Not that the plan was yielding much success so far. Anyone could have seen that coming. They’d barely spoken during the ride, and the silence was only occasionally broken by Rosa’s efforts to stir conversation. Scarlett respected the bard’s attempts, even if she wasn’t in the mood to reciprocate.

Her eyes drifted to Rosa, staying on her for a moment before returning to the wintry cityscape. She wanted to ask when Rosa and Evelyne had become close enough for Rosa to casually call her ‘Ev’, but it was probably best not to.

Or, at least, she shouldn’t.

The carriage slowed, Scarlett’s gaze sharpening as her attention was caught by a particular building with a sign out front. “Stop here,” she called, just loud enough for the coachman to hear.

The carriage soon pulled to a halt at the corner of a narrow side street. Scarlett rose from her seat, the coachman quickly moving to open the cabin door for her.

“Finally spotted something you liked?” Rosa asked, stretching as she stood.

“I did,” Scarlett replied, stepping out onto the street. Snow crunched under her boots, the faintest wisps of steam curling around her as it melted under the subtle influence of her pyrokinesis. A warm fur cloak materialised over her shoulders. She turned back to the carriage, eyes on Evelyne. “Will you be joining us?”

Evelyne shook her head with a mild smile. “No, I think I’ll stay. It’s probably best I don’t push myself too much.” She gestured towards her arm and legs.

“…Very well,” Scarlett said. Rosa offered a quick wave to Evelyne.

They walked down the street. It wasn’t particularly crowded, but the few people there instinctively stepped aside to let Scarlett pass.

“So, what’s drawn our prim and proper baroness’ eye?” Rosa asked liltingly.

“It is nothing extraordinary,” Scarlett replied, nodding towards a modest establishment ahead. Its sign was plain, with faded lettering identifying it as a bookshop. Judging by the building’s unassuming exterior, it catered more to commonfolk than nobility.

“Hmm. I was hoping for something a bit more exciting,” Rosa said. “Doesn’t exactly scream ‘merrymaking and delight’. But I suppose it’s a start.”

They stepped inside. The shop was cramped but cozy, the scent of old paper and aged wood thick in the air. Shelves lined the walls, filled with books in varying states of wear. A middle-aged proprietor stood behind a counter, looking up from a book of his own. He adjusted his glasses and greeted them.

“Good afternoon, ladies. Can I help you find something?”

Rosa smiled. “I think we’ll take a look around first, if that’s all right.” She glanced at Scarlett as if searching for confirmation, and Scarlett gave a slight nod before heading towards the shelves.

Her attention was soon drawn to a small corner of the shop stocked with simpler fare: chapbooks with woodcut prints, learning sheets, and other materials clearly meant for children. She walked over and spotted a stack of what she assumed were picture books containing fairy tales and the like.

Though Scarlett had agreed to this excursion at Garside’s suggestion, she hadn’t really known what to do with her time. She wasn’t exactly familiar with what the idea of ‘enjoying oneself’ meant here, where spontaneous outings and light-hearted diversions weren’t as easily arranged as a casual girl’s night out back in her world. Maybe that’s why this quaint bookstore had caught her attention.

She picked up a slim picture book and began flipping through it, skimming its pages. She didn’t have any particular interest in fairy tales, but since she was here, she figured she might as well look for anything connected to the picture book she’d found in the first princess’ quarters at Dawnlight Palace. It was a stretch, but she had little else to do. She also didn’t think circumstance was all that played a part in its existence.

Though judging by the content of this book, it seemed unlikely she’d find anything Beldon’s people hadn’t already seen. Still, she kept flipping through it, just in case.

“Is this a new side to you I’m seeing you nurture, Red? Scarlett Hartford, the explorer of quaint, magical frogs and tragic princesses?” Rosa’s teasing tone cut through her focus. The bard grinned, glancing down at the book in Scarlett’s hands. It was a typical fairy tale — one of those where a frog turned into a prince with a kiss. “I mean, if you are, it’s fine. I’m all for adding a little whimsy to your otherwise regal repertoire. Just didn’t think you’d rush in here for it.”

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“I am nurturing no such fascination,” Scarlett said flatly, placing the book back on the stack.

Rosa went quiet, eyeing her. “…You’re trying to figure something out, aren’t you?”

“I am,” Scarlett admitted. “Specifically, I have been searching for the source of a certain work that I believe may hold significance. I thought it would not hurt to peruse this establishment while we are here.”

Rosa continued studying her for a long moment, then breathed out slowly. “I should’ve seen this one coming.”

Without warning, the bard grabbed her wrist, and Scarlett found herself tugged across the shop, unceremoniously deposited in front of a shelf marked for various fictional accounts, novellas, and similar works.

“Garside pulled me aside for a chat before we left,” Rosa said, releasing Scarlett’s wrist with an exaggerated motion. “He didn’t spell out what we were supposed to do on this trip, but he made it pretty clear that the point was for you to take a break. You diving headfirst into whatever your fairy-tale investigation is about? Not the vibe we’re looking for. So, as of now, I’m officially your designated ‘fun supervisor’. You’re going to enjoy yourself today if it’s the last thing I do.”

Scarlett looked down at her wrist, frowning lightly before levelling a small glare at Rosa. “We could arrange that, if you insist.”

Rosa grinned unapologetically. “And leave you all alone with a gaggle of starry-eyed, barely-housebroken fledglings for the next inevitable calamity you’re bound to throw yourself into? I think not. Someone has to keep this circus vaguely alive and functional.”

“And you imagine that person to be you?”

“You don’t pay me the big coin for nothing.”

“I do not pay you the ‘big coin’ at all.”

“Exactly. My boundless charm and tireless dedication are grossly underappreciated.” Rosa gave a long, theatrical sigh. “It’s a travesty, I tell you.”

Scarlett released a sigh of her own. “This is your attempt at compelling me to relax, I take it?”

Rosa’s grin softened into something more genuine. “Well, you weren’t exactly making much of an effort yourself. Practically looked like you’d been perched on a nest of angry hedgehogs the entire way here.”

Scarlett was silent for a few seconds. “…I find it difficult to regulate myself around Evelyne.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed.” Rosa shrugged. “We’ve all got our mess. I get your relationship with her is complicated. But you’re trying, even with everything you feel about her — and I think she sees that. I certainly do.”

Scarlett considered her. “…I noticed that you called her ‘Ev’. I was not aware you were so familiar.”

A mischievous smirk curved Rosa’s lips. “Is that jealousy I hear, Red?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Okay, no need to shut it down that fast.” Rosa just laughed to herself, shaking her head. “I got to know her pretty well while I was helping her heal up. She never said it outright, but being cooped up in that room of hers all alone? It was probably rough. I made a point of stopping by. Have a chat now and then. She’s a good egg, that one. A little too serious, maybe, but good. Though, I’ve got to say, it’s hard to believe you two are related.”

Scarlett narrowed her eyes.

“I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” Rosa added quickly, hands raised in mock surrender. “It’s just curious. You’re pretty…singular, after all. One of a kind.” She let the words hang a beat before turning back to the shelf. “Though you and Evelyne do share one trait — you’re both absolutely terrible at doing nothing. I can’t for the life of me understand how that’s possible, but you two somehow manage it. Don’t worry, though. We’ll see what we can do about it.”

She trailed her fingers over the spines of nearby books, reading titles aloud. “Hmm, let’s see… The Sands of the Unresting Steppes? Nah, too bleak. The Last Voyage of Captain Aelric? A classic, but probably not your speed. Oh! The Silver Mask of Sornath. I’ve read that one. It’s solid.”

She tilted her head, scanning further. “The Duke and the Druidess? Maybe I’ll pick that one up. Alchemist’s Longing? And—oh, The Forbidden Tale of Lady Idris…”

Scarlett noted, with increasing suspicion, that the titles Rosa read off seemed to grow progressively more risqué. Was this really the kind of material people around here consumed? Shaking her head, she selected two books that looked more in line with what she might have read in her old world.

“This will suffice,” she said, holding them up.

Rosa’s gaze slid to the covers. “Voices from the Wandering Realm and Reckonings of Baajirr, huh?” She raised a brow. “I hope neither of these turns out to have any ominous prophecies or world-ending mysteries tucked inside them.”

Scarlett genuinely considered rolling her eyes, though, of course, she didn’t. “If they do, it will not be through any fault of mine.”

She wasn’t sure she’d actually get to reading these, but she’d buy them regardless.

Rosa picked out a couple of books herself—Scarlett deliberately avoided seeing which—and glanced towards the children’s section they’d browsed earlier. “So, you grabbing any of those, too?” she asked, pointing in that direction.

Scarlett gave her a look. “I was under the impression that I was not allowed to.”

Rosa blinked, then her face broke into another grin. “Because of what I said? You’re actually listening to me?” She laid a hand over her chest. “I’ll remember this as the day when Baroness Scarlett Hartford, vanquisher of demons and dragons, heeded the counsel of the humble Rosalina Hale.”

“Are you truly incapable of sustaining seriousness for more than a single sentence?”

“Almost certainly, though every now and then I manage two or three,” Rosa said with a wink. Then her tone shifted again, just slightly, as she adopted what might have passed for a serious expression under most other circumstances. “That said, I won’t stop you from buying every children’s book in this place if that’s what you want. If anything, you could always donate them to one of those orphanages you run — you Samaritan, you.”

“It is one orphanage,” Scarlett corrected.

“Ah, right. And what’s it called again?”

“…The Scarlett Cross.”

Rosa nodded sagely. “Right, right. A perfectly imaginative name.”

“I daresay it is an improvement over anything you might have devised,” Scarlett said.

“I humbly, respectfully, and incontrovertibly disagree. The Baroness’ Den of Delightful Disasters would have lured in patrons and admirers from far and wide.”

“No.” That was Scarlett’s only reply as she moved towards the children’s section. She might as well just buy all the books in that section and sort through them at the mansion later. Even if it was incredibly unlikely they held anything of real value, it wouldn’t take too long to confirm.

“You’re mean,” Rosa muttered, following at her side. “By the by, why The Scarlett Cross? Never really got that. I’ve been there, and there aren’t any crosses in sight.”

Scarlett glanced at her. “It holds no particular meaning.”

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“So you just named it at random?”

“What makes you so certain that I was the one to name it?”

“Heard as much from your sister.”

“…I see.” Scarlett faced forward again. “Then, yes. In essence. It was entirely arbitrary.”

It wasn’t as if there’d be much point in her trying to explain the cultural significance of the symbol in her own world. She’d already decided that she wouldn’t force Rosa to learn about things like that.

“Hmm. Okay,” Rosa said, letting it go.

Together, they gathered the entire children’s section, each carrying half. At the counter, the proprietor’s eyes darted between them as he tallied the sizeable purchase. Finally, he looked up at Scarlett, offering a smile.

“Would you like me to wrap these for you, miss? Perhaps as a single package, with a decorative bow?”

Scarlett stared at him. “…What?”

Next to her, Rosa barely held back a snort.

Scarlett shot her a glare. “You. Silence.” Then she shifted her focus back to the man, her voice firm. “Explain. What do you mean?”

The man, caught off guard, glanced nervously between them. “I… overheard that these might be for children. I thought they’d appreciate a more festive presentation.”

Scarlett paused, masking her surprise as she eyed him. While it wasn’t her habit to personally purchase gifts for the orphanage children—those matters were managed without her—there was someone who might find use for these books, eventually.

“…The wrapping will not be necessary,” she said at last.

She’d be removing it all later anyway.

“Furthermore,” she added, tone sharpening, “I am Baroness Scarlett Hartford. Do remember that when addressing me.”

It might have been a bit unfair admonishing him for that, but being addressed so casually always grated.

The man’s eyes widened. “O-Of course, My Lady. My deepest apologies.”

Scarlett waved a hand. “It is of no matter.”

He said little else as they completed the transaction, disappearing into the back of the shop as soon as he could. Outside, Rosa cast Scarlett a look.

“What?” Scarlett asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Rosa said innocently. “Just wondering if you realise you’ve got a gift. You know, for making full-grown men reconsider their entire life choices with the teeniest of scowls.”

“Regrettably, it seems to have no effect on full-grown bards with an overabundance of dramatics.”

“You’ll get there, eventually.” Rosa turned down the street. “Now, why don’t we head back to the carriage and plot out our next destination? We’ve still got time to coax a proper smile out of that unyielding, perfectly sculpted mask you call a face. Consider it my noble quest for the day.”