Sunlight and a Fragile Heart
I squinted against the bright sunlight as I stepped down from the carriage, heavy travel pack slung over my shoulder. The moment I pushed open the door to the first-floor hall, Alber spotted me and called out with a grin.
I gave a small, awkward smile and shrugged, the universal sign for I’d rather not talk about it.
“Oh, right. Your room’s changed. The boss didn’t like leaving an expensive room empty for more than five days, so we moved you to the one at the far end of the second-floor hallway. It’s a bit cheaper now, so it’s not a bad deal for you either.”
“Understood.”
I headed to the room Alber had mentioned and unpacked my things. It was a far cry from the luxurious fourth-floor suites reserved for high-paying guests. The furnishings were worn and dated. Still, the floor space was roughly the same, which gave me enough room to store my robes, books, and the small stash of coins I’d earned as tips.
“Haa…”
I sat on the grimy bed and let out a long breath. Back to everyday life again.
The quality had dropped a notch, sure. But it didn’t matter. I wasn’t planning to do this forever.
Dealing with strange men who came looking for either baby-faced whores or well-educated courtesans and selling my body at a discount was far more bearable than being screamed at every day to restore someone’s virginity. At least this way I had some semblance of choice.
Still… I’d have to keep rolling around in the mud until I found what I was looking for.
I spent the early afternoon flipping through a book while sitting on the bed, reacclimating to the rhythm of this mundane life. Customers were rare during the day, so I could have taken a nap, but after sleeping so comfortably the night before, sleep refused to come.
I was absorbed in a few pages of the spellbook I’d taken from Zophy when I heard the door creak open. It was still broad daylight, just past lunch. Whoever was visiting at this hour must have had nothing better to do.
That was fine with me. He was money, after all.
I reflexively put on my brightest customer-service smile and greeted him warmly.
Beyond my narrowed, smiling eyes, a familiar face appeared. That painfully thin silhouette answered me in a voice full of warmth.
“Oh… Yes, it has. Thank you for coming again, Lord Iskil.”
It was the playwright Iskil. The moment he saw me, his face bloomed like a flower in full blossom. I wondered what it was about a woman who sold smiles and purity for a living that could make him look so happy.
“Miss Karin, I was wondering if today…”
“Yes?”
I was already sitting on the bed, preparing to undress as usual, when Iskil asked his question. His voice trembled with hesitation.
“Pardon? Lord Iskil, what do you…”
“Ah…”
I understood immediately. This would not end well. A tragic tale of a poor literary youth falling for a prostitute—it was painfully cliché. I’d read enough cheap tragedies like this back on Earth to last several lifetimes.
“Lord Iskil…”
I stopped undressing and looked him straight in the eye, trying my best to keep my tone firm.
I had to warn him. Before he tried to drag me into the flames with him. No matter how much I liked the man who had appeared before me in this wretched life.
“You’re not in love with me, Lord Iskil. You’re in love with my circumstances.”
Iskil closed his mouth, as if willing to listen to everything I had to say.
“You’ve fallen for a pitiful woman who has to spread her legs whenever someone pays her, for a fallen mage who learned magic at the academy only to use it for whoring, and for this small body that seems to carry all sorts of mysterious secrets.”
I studied his expression. A slightly stiff, pitying smile. I needed to turn that face into one of anger or disappointment. So I continued.
“You don’t actually like me as a person. You’re only enamored with the story behind me, and you’re mistaking that for love.”
He answered clearly.
“No, those aren’t words that should come from someone who truly understands. You haven’t grasped a single thing I just said…”
Iskil took my hand firmly as he spoke.
“In any case, I’ve paid for your time. I already asked the owner downstairs before coming up. He said that as long as I promise not to cause any trouble, it’s fine to take one of the girls outside.”
“You’re being so forceful about this…”
I started to refuse again but stopped myself. He was right. If a customer paid for me, my only job was to provide the service he wanted.
Even if that customer was someone who loved me.
I changed into the practical dress I usually wore—the one I’d taken from the maid’s wardrobe in Mitenburg. I didn’t put on my robe; I didn’t want to draw attention. I deliberately pulled my traveling boots from my pack and laced them up.
Finally, I draped the prostitute’s shawl over my shoulders. It was required. A quick glance in the mirror showed the crudely dyed red stripes standing out harshly.
When Iskil saw me ready, his smile stretched so wide it looked like his face might split. He grabbed my hand and pulled me along. The brothel’s doorman, who had been killing time on the second-floor landing, didn’t stop us. As if this sort of thing happened all the time.
Alber, who usually doubled as the bartender on the first floor, was resting during the daytime hours. In his place, the brothel owner Arto watched us descend the stairs and spoke up.
“Yes, sir.”
I answered in a small voice, but Arto’s eyes weren’t on me. The pimp ignored my response entirely and directed his next words at the man leading me by the hand. His expression was a perfect mix of disbelief and pity.
Iskil gave a polite bow, as if thanking him for the advice. It must not have looked sincere, because Arto frowned.
“Thank you, sir.”
And with that, we stepped out of the brothel.
Even though I had refused him several times with cold words, if I was being honest… my heart was racing. The experience of walking arm-in-arm with a man—especially one who clearly had feelings for me—strolling through the streets like lovers. It was something I had never experienced in either of my lives, not even once. Though I had been the man in the relationship before.
Together, we walked through the market street beneath the eastern wall, where shops lined both sides.
It wasn’t all that different from the shopping district near the magic academy where I had once lived. If you went a few alleys in from the main road, the place was probably crawling with brothels, but there weren’t many establishments bold enough to advertise right on the main thoroughfare.
There were more trading houses dealing in large-scale commercial goods here. This was, after all, the final destination for merchants trading with the small kingdoms to the east.
I quickly forgot the cold rejection I had given him inside and practically clung to Iskil’s arm as we strolled down the street.
Unlike the relatively quiet market near my hometown academy, this place catered to weary merchants and their escorts, so there were far more sights and attractions to enjoy.
The prostitute’s shawl clearly drew people’s eyes. Every so often, someone would glance at me and whisper with a disapproving look.
Still, most people paid us no mind. After all, it probably wasn’t uncommon in this town for men to rent a prostitute’s time and treat her like a temporary girlfriend.
We wandered the afternoon streets, browsing the market stalls, until I noticed a large man standing proudly with his arms crossed beside a basin full of coins.
He looked like he had once been either an adventurer or a farmer—someone who had done hard physical labor. His sculpted muscles still gleamed in the afternoon sun.
On the ground beneath his feet was a small circle crudely drawn in charcoal.
I pointed at him as we passed and remarked casually.
“Wow, Lord Iskil… That man is huge. He’s almost half the size of an ogre…”
“You’re right. It looks like the bet is that if you can push him out of that circle on the ground, you win double your money. Shall we try?”
I let out a small snort.
“…Even if five of you rushed him at once, I doubt he’d budge an inch.”
Well, if I secretly cast Menelon’s Ice Sheet, I might be able to win myself, let alone Iskil…
“Ahaha. Y-yes, I suppose that’s true…”
Seeing Iskil acknowledge his own limits so readily made me burst out laughing without meaning to.
“Pfft.”
“Ah, you laughed, Miss Karin. You really are beautiful when you smile. But you’re only laughing because you have to, right? Since I paid for your time?”
His teasing words made my face flush with heat.
“…You’re such a tease.”
“Well then, don’t stop me. I’m a man too, after all. When I see something like this, I just have to try it. If I win with one silver coin, I won’t have to worry about buying bread for weeks.”
“What?”
I could only watch in stunned silence as Iskil approached the burly man, swinging his right arm in circles as if warming up.
His build isn’t that different from mine, he’s just taller. How does he think he can beat a man who does this for a living…?
Before I could even try to stop him, I heard the distinct clink of a silver coin hitting the basin. That was enough to buy twenty large loaves of bread for a whole day. Even by Earth standards, it would cover twenty bowls of soup.
“Whoa! One silver coin! My, what a generous customer! Thank you! As expected, showing off in front of your lover…”
The man’s eyes flicked across my shawl as he spoke. In an instant, the merchant’s gaze filled with contempt and pity.
A fool throwing away a decent amount of money just to impress a whore.
I could understand. If I were watching this as a third party, my assessment wouldn’t have been much different.
The strong man quickly shook off his mocking look and continued. He really was a professional at this.
“Well, wanting to show off your strength in front of a beautiful woman is simply a man’s instinct! Alright, you get three attempts. If you push me outside the circle, you win double! Come at me however you like. However, no punching, no running starts—nothing ungentlemanly. I’ll leave it to the fine people watching to judge if this young man breaks any rules!”
Whether drawn by the sound of the coin or by the man’s booming voice, a crowd had gathered around Iskil, staring at him intently.
Iskil swallowed hard, took a wide stance, circled behind the man, and charged forward with all his might.
It was painful to watch. After throwing himself forward, Iskil bounced right off and went flying backward. I covered my eyes with my right hand. Even though we weren’t actually lovers, seeing someone I knew humiliated like that left a bad taste in my mouth.
Iskil tried again. This time he rushed at the man’s front as if they were wrestling, then suddenly changed direction, grabbed the man’s side, and spun with his full body weight.
It was hopeless. The poor playwright went flying and rolled across the market floor. His clothes were already covered in dust.
The sight was so pitiful that I…
Considered cheating.
I can cast Menelon’s Ice Sheet without an incantation. I’ve memorized the hand gestures for silent casting too. As long as no one notices…
I thought about it, but hesitation remained.
But it’s obviously cheating. It’s hacking. Still…
It wasn’t so much a woman’s affection as it was the competitive spirit of the man I had been twenty years ago that surged up inside me.
I couldn’t just stand by and watch someone who liked me get covered in dirt when I had the power to reach out and help him.
I glanced around. There wasn’t a single person who looked like a mage. This should be safe. No one would suspect that the prostitute in front of them was a wizard.
My target was beneath the man’s right foot. If I applied it to both feet, it would look too unnatural and he might notice immediately.
I felt the mana circulate properly and the spell take shape. I let out a small sigh.
“Whoa!?”
The large man let out an uncharacteristically high-pitched yelp. Once his stance collapsed, no matter how strong he was, he wouldn’t be able to hold his ground. If he tried to step where he had just slipped, he would only slide again.
A heavy thud reverberated through the ground and up my legs. Iskil had fallen with his arms wrapped around the man’s massive torso. Well, there was no rule saying the person doing the pushing couldn’t fall too. At least Iskil wouldn’t have to starve for the next two weeks.
“Oof, looks like… I must’ve stepped wrong. Felt like I slipped there. Folks! I lost! Wahahaha!!!”
Even though he had lost money, the man laughed heartily. The crowd cheered and gave generous applause—not just to Iskil, but to both men.
“Um… Excuse me, miss who sells flowers…?”
In the middle of that applause, the man—who was still on his knees—scraped together three silver coins’ worth of copper pieces from his basin and handed them to Iskil along with a dirty cloth pouch. He tilted his head slightly and stared straight at me.
“Have we met somewhere before? Those vivid eyes… they seem strangely familiar…”
I had completely forgotten the most important thing in my excitement at being led through the market by a man’s hand. That I was a wanted fugitive. Why hadn’t I considered that this man might have seen a wanted poster or attended the victory parade?
I turned my face slightly, unable to hide my panic, and said,
“As you can see… I do this kind of work, so…”
I finished in a tiny, shrinking voice.
“Perhaps… you visited the establishment sometime…?”
The merchant still looked puzzled.
“That’s strange. I’ve never been to a place like that. Hmm…”
His doubtful expression didn’t last long.
The strong man quickly smoothed his face, stood up, and kicked the ground.
“Well, if you live around here, we might have passed each other on the street. Alright! Let’s have a round of applause for these two young people who, with the power of love, made this enormous uncle taste the bitter cup of defeat!”
With applause loud enough to burst eardrums, the merchant’s basket filled once again with copper scraps. The show he had provided was clearly good for business.
I see. So even if he loses, he doesn’t take much of a loss. Clever.
He wasn’t just strong—he was smart too.