The hour turned from red to violet. After many moments of pain, forgiveness, and regaining a path once lost, the sun finally began to set. Benedictine switched the spell on the bedside lamp from glacé to aur, causing the glowstone’s shell to crack and release a ball of light into the air, banishing dusk’s gloom from the room.
Glowstone lamps were expensive magic items, used only by the castle’s royalty. This was, in fact, the first time Belle had seen one in action. It was impressive; it cast a glow that wasn’t blinding and produced no heat, lighting up the room just like it was daytime.
“Well?” Benedictine rested her hands on her waist. “I told you, despite appearances, I’m a high-class Solist. Just having wealth isn’t enough. Some of the nobility have these stones but no knowledge in magic, so they can’t put them to use.”
Benedictine spoke boastfully, and Belle could only nod, impressed.
“Heh-heh… You can’t make this ball of light float in the air, either. And if you don’t know how to turn it off, it could stay glowing for ten days. Doing this isn’t something someone like you, who’s focused only on the sword, could do.”
Her words were quite irritating, but Belle wouldn’t be able to sleep if this thing kept the room lit up, so she continued to nod obediently, so as not to annoy Benedictine to the point of refusing to put it out.
Realizing that expecting any honest praise from Belle was pointless, Benedictine said nothing more and decided to start putting some food on the table before the sun set completely.
As she settled into her seat at the dining room table, Belle realized, to her wonder, that the ball of light hardly cast any shadows. She understood that magic was what controlled this lamp, but she had to wonder how it worked. She had no understanding of it whatsoever, which was admittedly frustrating, but the food being placed on the table soon drew her attention away from that.
“I did what I could to suit the meal to your tastes, but try to compromise, all right? Making the flavor too rich can make it inedible. With the strong flavors you love, I have to wonder if your sense of taste works right.”
Benedictine sat at the dining table, her tongue still lashing into Belle.
“This looks great,” Belle said, this time honestly.
The food was mostly cooked using lotus fruit, which was the primary diet of Mermaids. Belle instantly reached out with her spoon to one of the dishes, which Benedictine explained was called a lotus bee—boiled fruit with honey squeezed onto it. It was eaten by other races as well, so she’d chosen to bring this, thinking it would suit Belle’s tastes.
It looked like a simple enough dish, but once Belle put it in her mouth, she realized how diverse its flavors were. It had the texture of flower meat and a mellow sweetness, with crushed chili pods sprinkled in for flavor. The fruit was punctured with holes, like a honeycomb, which were filled with fragrant herbs Belle couldn’t recognize. There was also some kind of fruit flesh stuffed inside, creating a taste that was surprisingly complex yet refreshing enough that she didn’t feel the need to wash the flavor down with soda water.
Next she reached for the stalk soup, then the leaf flesh dumplings wrapped with lotus leaves.
“This is good. Like, really good. I should’ve known. You really went all out.”
Belle much preferred this to the glowstone lamp. Raising her voice in praise, she took a bite of every other dish on the table. It almost felt like a waste, eating it, and she glanced around the room relieved that Kitty the Nothing wasn’t there for this. She’d be in quite a bind if he got used to dishes like these and started ignoring Belle’s plain cooking.
“Even you can make something like this,” Benedictine said, looking exasperated. “When it comes to a healthy appetite, though, you’ve got everyone beat. Listen, the way you make this…”
She started explaining the basics of cooking lotus, like she was trying to smooth over something. The way she became modest as soon as someone heaped praise on her was one of this woman’s negative traits, but at the same time she became bashful, which was charming in its own way. Belle nodded actively, listening to her lecture.
The whole time, Belle gluttonously devoured the meal, after having not eaten properly in so long. By the time Benedictine was halfway done with her first plate, Belle had already cleared several of her own.
Once she was done eating, Belle went to the washroom and brushed her teeth. This was her habit after every meal. She took cactus ashes and ran them over her teeth, rubbing a pinch of mint as well, and rinsed her mouth out with water. She then repeated this a second and third time.
After wiping her clean teeth with a handkerchief, Belle laughed loudly and thanked Benedictine.
“You really took care of everything for me. Sorry, and thanks. I’m really grateful.”
This was the first time she had expressed true, sincere gratitude since Benedictine had appeared at her door. Her cleaning the room had made Belle feel like all the sediment in her heart was being washed away, and the meal had brought her so much joy.
“Well, that’s a pleasure to hear. I wish you’d be as thankful for everything else,” Benedictine replied curtly.
“But I am thankful!”
“Oh, really? Well, let’s leave it at that. But there’s still one more thing you need to do.”
“There is?”
“This.”
Benedictine politely put away her fork and pointed at Belle’s hands.
“…Oh.”
Belle instantly understood. She wore a thin silk robe over her shirt that just about hid it, and she barely managed to eat. She hoped that by covering it up, she could simply forget about it. But under the robe, her body was covered in black-and-blue bruises, which she wasn’t sure would ever heal. And above them, over her heart, were gashes and claw marks crossed over each other. No matter how much she tried to keep her mind off them, the scars wouldn’t disappear on their own.