C144: A very wrong development
Arnold walked back out of the general store, the small brass bell chiming with a dull metallic ring as the door clicked shut behind him.
The morning wind rushed to meet him, carrying the scent of the busy streets.
'Good, I managed to secure it,' Izzy thought, her mind retreating into the quiet safety of her mindscape.
Inside the theatre of her mindscape, she sank into the soft, luxurious cushions of her plush velvet seat, relaxing her posture.
The theatre remained quiet. Rows of empty seats stretched into the distance beneath warm lights.
‘Hmm. Should I make a bed here?' she mused, adjusting her position.
Although she would never actually suffer from back pain or physical discomfort no matter how long she sat, lying down still sounded far more appealing than remaining seated forever.
A proper bed. With pillows and a blanket. Perhaps even create a private chamber on the upper floor facing the stage.
If she was going to spend so much time here, she might as well make herself comfortable.
‘I'll think about that minor luxury later.’
She waved the thought away and redirected her attention toward the bags Arnold was carrying.
Since Otto was supposedly famous for his magical herbs, Izzy had managed to squeeze a surprisingly useful herbal remedy out of the old man with only two shillings.
‘Wait. Isn't that actually expensive in this era?’ Her brows furrowed, a sudden doubt crossed her mind.
Was it a fair price? Izzy contemplated the local economy with seriousness.
A full dozen of sanitary pads had cost her only a single shilling.
'Only one shilling?'
For some inexplicable reason, Izzy felt as though her comprehension of currency in this era had been thoroughly distorted.
'A common laborer takes five days of manual labor just to earn a single shilling,' Izzy calculated, raising a hand to massage her temple.
'Which means I have just expended five days' worth of labor for basic sanitary products, and a ten days' worth of labor for a single pouch of medicine?' Her expression slowly became complicated.
That suddenly sounded less reasonable.
Then again, it was a traditional herbal remedy supposedly crafted from various medicinal plants and magical herbs.
Maybe the price was justified.
'Wait, no, that's not it.'
It appeared that residing within the massive aristocratic mansion had somehow distorted her financial judgment.
She buried her face in her hands for a moment.
Anyway, back to the current situation.
'A remedy to delay a woman's monthly cycle.' That was the main purchase.
It was a herbal mixture created to temporarily suspend her biological functions.
Otto had instructed that the powdered herbs must be brewed into tea or mixed with hot water, and consumed it every morning.
One pouch would last approximately a week.
Izzy wasn't entirely sure whether it would work, given that the remedy originated from a mysterious old man who dealt in unverified magical plants, but she chose to place her trust in him.
It was better than nothing. What was the worst that could happen?
According to the information preserved within the black monument, Arriet's monthly cycle would begin tomorrow.
It would be disastrous if the female vessel was rendered physically depleted during the confrontation with the Herald.
‘At least this gives us some insurance.’
Of course, there was another solution. She could simply sever her connection with the female vessel entirely. Doing so would free up one of her puppet-control slots for another combat-capable marionette.
Logically, it might be the smarter decision.
However...Izzy wasn't sure she wanted to do that. Arriet still served an important purpose, such as communicating, observing, eating, and resting.
“Hm.” The thought lingered briefly before she dismissed it.
‘It's not like Arriet will have to fight the Herald anyway.’
Well, it was highly improbable that Arriet would be forced to face the Herald in direct physical combat anyway. Sending a fragile female vessel into combat would be far too abusive.
'With this, I can at least let Arriet maintain her physical mobility and function normally,'
Naturally, the remedy would likely come with side effects.
Still, minor side effects were preferable to losing functionality during a crisis.
Besides the medicine, she had also purchased several packets of powdered salep. They were the dried and ground tubers of wild orchids, which she figured Isa might find enjoyable as a sweet drink.
‘Maybe Isa would like this.’ The thought made Izzy chuckle.
Unfortunately, there was no coffee to be found in the shop, which was a huge disappointment.
‘Sniff…’ A single tear rolled down her cheek, as she swept it away with the back of her hand. ‘I miss my nicotine…’
The liquor here was terrible. Just a taste of those thugs' spirit was enough to make her unable to drink anything similar.
And yet they say it was the best spirit in the village. How bad must the other be? Imagine it was terrifying.
‘Now that I think about it, where is Isa right now?’ Izzy lifted her gaze, shifted her attention back to the mansion. More precisely, she returned to Arriet’s perspective.
She encountered a scene she never expected to see in real life.
Isa, controlling Arriet, stayed in her room instead of the attic.
Arriet sat on the floor among a scattered collection of stuffed animals.
The carpet beneath her was crowded with old toys, puzzle pieces, ribbons, small cloth scraps, and several dolls arranged in no clear order. Sunlight fell through the window in a pale stripe, illuminating the dust floating lazily in the air.
“Mama Isa! I’m home!”
“Welcome, Daddy Isa! Good work today! Do you want to take a bath first, or—”
Instead of playing inside the mindscape as usual, Isa was playing in the real world through Arriet’s body.
‘This is unexpected.' Izzy looked around the room in confusion.
The strangest part was that it had nothing to do with puzzles.
Isa was playing house.
“Oh my! I certainly would take a bath first, then I will—”
Arriet held a stuffed brown bear in one hand and made it walk across the floor. The bear was old and tattered, its fabric worn thin in several places. Its limbs had been restitched more than once, and its eyes were mismatched color button eyes; they were sewn clumsily onto its face.
The only thing that made it look remotely cared for was a little red ribbon tied around its neck, neatly knotted.
“Oke! Little Isa! Come here, Daddy just bought your milk!”
In her other hand, she held another stuffed animal: a white bear wearing a faded little dress. It looked similar to the brown one, but cleaner, as if it had been cared for with greater attention. Its white fur had yellowed only slightly, and a matching red ribbon rested around its neck, tied with surprising care.
“...”
“Isa! You forgot to feed your pet!”
The mother bear said, waving its hand to another stuffed animal.
Arriet moved again, picking up another stuffed animal. This time, it was a white cat, though its fabric had faded into a dingy gray. The stitches of its seams were visibly bared across its body, uneven and roughly repaired.
One of its ears was missing, and a row of jagged teeth had been drawn around its mouth using dark ink, making its expression look strangely feral.
“Ahaha! Silly Isa! Isa will feed it right now!” Arriet giggled, while directing the toy cat toward a corner of the room.
The corner where a small doll sat atop a pile of disentanglement puzzles.
The gray-haired doll.
“...”
Should Izzy be watching this? She felt like she had stumbled upon a forbidden incident that she shouldn't have been supposed to see.
Arriet moved toward the doll. She put a bowl of water in front of the doll.
The doll's tranquil navy eyes were still lower; its gray hair cascaded down to its shoulder. There was no change in the doll’s porcelain features.
Several questions rose in Izzy's mind, such as where Isa had found so many stuffed animals in the first place? Why playing house, and why she acted out each role with such enthusiasm. But none of those questions were important right now.
The important part was—
“Why am I a pet?”
“Ah, Izzy!”
Arriet—or rather, Isa controlling Arriet’s body—lifted her gaze toward the ceiling, her expression instantly brightening with joy as her eyes sparkled.
In contrast to Arriet's usual quiet and sharp demeanor, this innocent and cheerful Arriet seems more fitting for her age.
“Izzy! Izzy is here!”
“...”
Ariet giggled. She stood up and began hopping around the room, her skirt swaying with each little jump, causing the stuffed animals scattered across the floor to wobble slightly.
“Silly Izzy! She’s not a pet!”
“Then why is that doll a pet?”
Izzy pointed toward the gray-haired doll. Its porcelain face emotionless, its glassy eyes hidden beneath strands of gray hair.
The doll that looked exactly like them, the girl in the painting, Isidora.
“Ah, that!”
Arriet’s face brightened even more. She rushed toward the gray-haired doll with excitement, nearly stepping on the stuffed cat along the way.
“This doll is our pet!”
“...?” A large question mark materialized over Izzy's head within the shared mind.
“Right, that’s what I asked?” Izzy posed the question again.
Had Izzy misunderstood the situation?
“Here, look, it’s Izzy!”
Arriet said, picking up the doll and cradling it in her arms.
The gray-haired doll stayed limp and silent against her chest, its small porcelain hands hanging down.
Arriet lifted one of the doll’s arms and waved it enthusiastically.
“Say hi!”
“...?”
“Izzy, Izzy! Isa asked it, and it agreed to help us!”
“...”
Who exactly had agreed to help them?
Izzy tilted her head, staring at the doll in Arriet’s arms with bewilderment.
‘Wait, that’s not the point here…’ Izzy rubbed her temple, a sudden headache blooming in her head. ‘I’m getting distracted.’
“Oh, wait. That came out wrong.” Arriet giggled, her shoulders shaking. “It asked Isa if it could be of help, and Isa agreed!”
“Heeeey! Izzy is here! Greet her, pet!” Arriet commanded, as if the doll would actually greet Izzy. She lifted the doll's arm again and waved it more vigorously.
“...”
Izzy narrowed her eyes.
Could this be considered normal behavior? Did Isa understand what this implication meant?
‘Did she…treat me as her pet? Is that what's going on?’
Any role was fine. Daughter, son, friend, aunt, uncle,... even a baby. Why a pet, to such a specific degree?
And to the doll that looked exactly like her.
Was it because of the lack of friends, attention, and correction that her affection developed into something like this?
‘Should I reprimand her?’
The bright lit room, the childish stuffed animals, a cheerful Isa, and the sight of Isa treating that doll---which looked exactly like Izzy---like a pet, gave her an unsettling wrongness.
Izzy swallowed her saliva instinctively. Looking at her young mind right now, a cold dread crept over her.
For some reason, she felt something was fundamentally wrong here.
And Izzy did not like this development in the slightest.