Playing Bartender
After I left the Hall, I went straight back to work. Today, there were hardly any new injuries. Instead, there were a few people with old wounds and long-missing Limbs. The previous Priest could close wounds and heal illness but couldn’t regrow Limbs or make scars disappear.
Giving those People their long-lost limbs back or making hideous scars disappear was my favorite part of the job. Even though it costs the most magic Power and puts a considerable strain on my mind. I always keep some Mana in reserve and seeing the smiles on their faces and the countless Thanks and tears was definitely worth it.
So, whenever there weren’t a lot of patients, I would regenerate a few folks who were crippled, chronically ill or disfigured. There even was a girl called Kathrine who had been blind for twelve years after falling from a horse.
By now, no one didn’t appreciate my presence. Even the rumors have shifted in my favor. The old ladies who badmouthed me behind my back are now all smiles after I healed their aching backs, and the soldiers have become very polite after Rika told them what happened in the alley. But really, no one? No, one stubborn man called Joe did his best to avoid me. His behavior improved after the alley fight, but he kept his distance.
He resembled a mouse, always hiding. I don’t know if I can forgive him. He treated me very badly, but now I have a roof above my head, three meals a day, and a job. None of those are thanks to him, but I ended up at this Fortress thanks to him and the Twins. I have no idea how the Ibasans would have treated me, and I would have never met Rika or Janus.
And despite his apology, a stubborn part of me still couldn’t forgive him.
These thoughts plagued me until the first day of the Harvest Festival arrived. When I reached the dining hall, it was already filled with laughter, and maids were running around applying the finishing touches. Everyone was having a merry time except for one. There sat Janus at a lonely corner table as far away from the other Festival goers as possible.
He did not look good.
There were already a couple of empty cups around him, and the pile kept growing. He was mumbling to himself, but I couldn’t understand him. So, I approached him from behind and asked, “Are you okay?”.
He flinched at the sound of my voice and covered his Mouth. He looked scared at me. So, I said, “Relax. I’m sure even you couldn’t understand your drunk mumbling. Why are you drinking so much this early? The festival hasn’t even really started.”
“I-I’m fine, really,” He replied with a red face.
Something was weird about him, so I dug deeper. “Why don’t you tell me. Is it about what I wanted you to tell your father?”.
He looked as if I was putting him on hot coals by asking but still replied, “No, it...Sigh... It isn’t about that. He has agreed with your theory and wants to send Joe and me with some others to escort the Priest.”
I looked at him incredulously.
“Well, that’s no reason to look this distraught. Why are you so… depressed? If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to, but I might be unable to help you.” As I told him this, I sat across from him on the opposite side of the Table and took one of his cups.
Janus was the first person in this World to extend a hand to me. He was my friend, and I wanted to help him. Even in my previous life, I only had two real friends, and a few friends became acquaintances. I have only made two friends in the last Month: Rika and Janus. Wait, would Otto and Benjamin count? Now that I think about it, I have also started talking more and more with the maids and cooks…
He looked at me and let out the heaviest sigh I had ever heard, ripping me out of my discovery, before answering, “My father wants me to pick a wife when I travel to the Capital for him next year.”
I was shocked. I never would have guessed this answer.
“What?”
“Yes, he has already talked to my mother and picked potential Partners for me. I have put this off a lot, and by next year, I will already be 23, so I get where he is coming from, but ugh.” he put his head into his hands.
“Are the options that bad?” I asked while raising an eyebrow. Janus replied through his Hands in a muffled tone,
“No! It’s just that I’m awful with Woman. I have no experience, and they are always so weird and annoying that I can’t stand them.”
“You can’t stand me?” I asked before I could stop myself.
“Huh,” he looked at me in shock. Well, this is awkward. But I’m also curious: Am I not a woman? Am I too tomboyish?
“You can’t stand me? I’m a Woman, but you don’t have a problem talking to me:”
“You-you are different. I don’t know why, but I can talk to you like I do with any of my men, and you don’t seem to care about your appearance or getting yourself dirty.”
I looked at him astonished and asked, “What did you say?” Do I look dirty to him? There may not be many opportunities to bathe, and there are only chamber pots and outhouses, but I groom daily and keep my clothes clean. I don’t look worse than any of the other Women around. How dare he call me dirty! I’m trying my best!
“Ehm.” He appeared to have guessed the source of my anger and hastily corrected himself: “I didn’t mean it like that. You aren’t dirty. I meant that you don’t avoid hard work or the sick. All the noble ladies I know wouldn’t want to be seen dead doing what you do daily.”
I calmed down after hearing his side but still felt a bit insulted.
“Have you tried talking to them before?” when I asked this, he grimaced. It seems I have hit the nail on the head.
“They would ask me all kinds of things, like how my day was or what I’m working on. But when I told them about my work, they became bored and started talking about themselves. I would tell them about sieges, Monsters, and training regimes, but the most exciting thing in their lives was their new dresses and hair.”
“Maybe they wanted to hear you compliment them?” I put a lot of emphasis on ’compliment’. I still wasn’t over him, implying that I’m dirty. “And most people would consider that fighting and monsters aren’t romantic topics.”
He didn’t seem to get my hint as drunk as he was and just replied with a dry,
“Maybe… but why bother asking how I’m doing then?”
We continued discussing his experiences, and even though I’m still lacking, I shared a bit of my experiences so he would better understand a “Women’s” Perspective. I don’t know how much he would remember, considering how drunk we were for the rest of the Evening.