Memoirs of Your Local Small-time Villainess-Chapter 316 - Sleeping belle

Scarlett sat in her quarters, Arlene’s journal resting on her lap, slowly flipping through its pages. A knock at the door pulled her from her quiet reverie. She lifted her gaze, her hand pausing mid-turn.

She had settled most matters for the evening, so she wasn’t sure who it was.

“Enter,” she said.

The door creaked open, and a freckled face framed by waves of brown curls peeked inside. “Why, hello there. I heard a rumour about a paragon of imperious sophistication roaming around these parts. You wouldn’t happen to know where I might find her?”

“Rosa?” Scarlett asked, a flicker of surprise entering her tone.

“That’s what they call me,” the bard replied, with an expression that was far too serious to be genuine. “Apparently, it’s what people refer to as a ‘name’.”

“I thought you were still asleep.”

“‘Was’ being the operative word there.” Rosa stepped fully into the room, her movements light but deliberate, as though she were testing her own balance. “I woke up just a bit ago feeling like I’d danced the Moonveil Minuet with Lord Sleep himself. Imagine my surprise when I found out I’ve been unconscious for three whole days! Naturally, I assumed you might be worried sick without me, so I asked Allyssa where you were hiding.”

A frown appeared on Scarlett’s brow. “You only just awoke, and you are already wandering about on your own? Have you no regard for your condition?”

Rosa waved a dismissive hand. “Bah, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“You die,” Scarlett said flatly.

Rosa blinked, her eyes widening as if the thought genuinely hadn’t occurred to her. “Wait, really?” She stared at Scarlett in mock horror. A grin soon replaced her expression, though, followed by a light chuckle. “No, I’m just fine, Red. Trust me. I know my body better than anyone, and right now, I’m as fit as a well-loved but still-kicking fiddle.”

Scarlett studied her closely, gaze sharp, before offering a reluctant nod. “Very well. However, should I observe you exerting yourself beyond reason, there will be consequences. I have little use for you bedridden.”

“I’m going to ignore that last part and just be happy that you’re concerned about my well-being.” Rosa gestured to a chair on the other side of the small table, across from where Scarlett sat. “Mind if I sit?”

Scarlett glanced at the seat, considering it for a moment. “Yes.”

Rosa cocked her head. “Okay, that’s actually a bit ambiguous, but once more, I am going to be very magnanimous and interpret it as ‘No, Rosa, my brilliant bardic extraordinaire, I don’t mind at all’.” With a flourish, she sauntered across the room and dropped into the chair, leaning back as she casually tossed her hair over her shoulder.

“…As always, I am reminded how much quieter things are in your absence.”

“I think you meant to say boring.” The woman raised a finger as if to illustrate her point. “You know what they say: monotony is the silent thief of joy — and I’m your gallant rescuer, clearly!”

A soft sigh left Scarlett. She was glad Rosa was awake again, though she wasn’t sure how much she was in the mood for the woman’s eccentricities.

Rosa glanced at her, then let her gaze wander the room. “I heard bits and pieces of what I missed from Allyssa,” she said after a moment, her tone more subdued. “Sounds like a lot happened.”

“Yes,” Scarlett replied simply.

“Well, it seems like it all worked.” Rosa’s eyes drifted back to Scarlett, falling to the leather-bound journal in her lap. “Is that…?”

“Arlene’s,” Scarlett confirmed.

Rosa fell silent. “…Does that mean she’s…”

“Gone?” Scarlett met her gaze. “Yes.”

A flicker of something unspoken crossed the woman’s face — worry, perhaps. “…Are you alright?”

Scarlett only nodded. “I am.”

Rosa studied her for a long moment before seeming to accept the answer. “It’s going to feel lonelier without her,” she said.

Scarlett’s eyebrow rose slightly, questioning.

Rosa showed a faint smile. “You really liked visiting Freymeadow, didn’t you?”

Scarlett just stared at her.

“Anyone could see it,” Rosa continued smoothly. “Even after all the grueling training she put us through there, you somehow seemed more at ease there than anywhere else. Arlene wasn’t just anyone to you.”

Scarlett’s brow furrowed slightly, but Rosa’s voice softened further as the woman looked towards the door. “…And it was clear you weren’t just anyone to her either, I suppose.”

“What do you mean by that?” Scarlett asked.

Rosa shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling I got while we were there. The Arlene we knew at the end… She wasn’t quite the same as the one we met at the start of it all.”

Scarlett watched her for a few seconds. “…You are correct. She never forgot anything between the repetitions. She merely feigned ignorance.”

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Rosa’s eyes widened, turning back to her. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yes. She admitted as much before she departed. She pretended not to remember us, in part, to prevent us from growing too attached. To make her passing easier.”

Rosa’s expression grew thoughtful, her eyes once more moving to the book in Scarlett’s lap. “…Okay, honestly? That’s not as much of a shocker. I don’t know… I might even have had my own suspicions.”

“Yet you never voiced them,” Scarlett noted.

“Would it have made a difference if I did?” Rosa asked, giving her an earnest look.

Scarlett met her violet eyes for a brief moment before turning away, letting her gaze wander.

“…You were likely unaware, but Arlene was a Hartford,” she said after some time.

“Hartford? As in Hartford Hartford? Like, ‘literally-your-ancestor-Hartford’?”

“Technically, she was my ancestor’s sister,” Scarlett replied. “But yes.”

“And you didn’t know this?”

“I did not.”

“So every time we introduced ourselves to her, and she was all, ‘Hartford? What’s that? Some kind of exotic vegetable?’ she was just pretending?”

Scarlett glanced back at Rosa. “I do not recall her ever saying anything of the sort.”

“I’m paraphrasing.”

“Poorly.”

“Oi, it’s the intent that counts, and mine’s as pure as the virgin snow on the Withdown peaks.” Rosa sprawled even further back in her chair, letting out a sigh that felt heavier than it needed to be. “But a Hartford, huh? Arlene Hartford… What are the odds?”

“Indeed,” Scarlett murmured. “What are the odds?”

Her fingers brushed the edge of the book in her lap, tracing the pages marked with Arlene’s neat handwriting. “…Do you recall when we first met?” she found herself asking, turning back to Rosa.

The bard nodded. “‘Course I do. Not exactly a day you forget easily. What about it?”

“Do you also recall why you were there?”

Rosa frowned, considering. “Why I was there?”

“Yes. At that particular inn, at that particular time.”

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“Haven’t you asked this before? I think I just happened to be there. Was short on coin, hopping from place to place, picking up what work I could. Not much more to it.”

“You do not remember anyone—be it man or woman—who might have recommended that inn to you?” Scarlett asked.

Rosa shook her head. “Nope.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “…Why?”

Scarlett’s gaze dropped back to the journal. “No, never mind. It is of no real consequence.”

Rosa was aware of Fate and all of that to some extent, but it might be best for the woman if Scarlett didn’t burden her with these particular suspicions.

Rosa studied her for several moments before speaking again. “You know, I am here to listen if you want me to. I’d like to.”

Scarlett looked up. Her lips parted, then closed again.

Rosa wasn’t like Arlene. The older woman had accepted the world’s strange, potentially game-like narrative structure with ease. But Rosa… Scarlett wasn’t sure how she would react to it. To the idea that so much of her pain and struggle might have been predetermined — just part of someone’s entertainment somewhere.

Scarlett believed Rosa could handle it. But she didn’t want to force the revelation on her. Not beyond what she already had, at least. Some burdens were probably better left for Scarlett to bear alone. After all, she didn’t have the same connection to this world as its residents.

“Your offer is appreciated, but it is not necessary,” she said finally, keeping her voice level.

Rosa considered her for a bit longer, then gave a casual shrug. “Alright. If you say so.” She drummed her fingers against the table, the rhythmic tapping filling the quiet. “By the by, Allyssa mentioned you had some big meeting with the Rising Isle’s council while I was out.”

“That is correct.”

“How’d that go?”

“Well enough. Both parties were able to progress discussions in a manner that should foster smoother cooperation moving forward, without undue complications.”

“Oh, really?” Rosa’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s great. I’ll admit, I was half-worried things might get…tense after that grand wizard fellow and the others got a look at my, you know…”

Scarlett fixed her with a steady look. “Your demonic influence?”

“I prefer ‘bold magical statement’, thank you very much.”

“Whatever you call it, it is unlikely the council’s reaction would have been any less…guarded.”

“Did they create a fuss?” Rosa asked, traces of real concern seeping into her voice.

“They did,” Scarlett replied. “They even accused me of consorting with demonic entities and suggested confining us both for further observation.”

Guilt flashed across Rosa’s face. “Scarlett, I’m sorry, I—”

“You have nothing to apologise for, Rosa,” Scarlett interrupted. “I have heard the details of what happened from Allyssa and Shin. I understand why you acted as you did. Gaspar and the other council members are the ones who are narrow-minded. Besides, it no longer matters. After reminding them exactly of who I am, I have ensured there will be no further complications in our dealings.”

Rosa’s worry eased into a mildly amused smile. “Well, that sounds like it must have been quite the spectacle. Almost makes me wish I’d been there.”

“I imagine you would have found it entertaining, yes,” Scarlett said dryly, finally closing Arlene’s journal and slipping it into the [Pouch of Holding] on the table. “The Hartford barony’s relationship with the Rising Isle will only grow stronger from here. There is much to anticipate. We should also be able to finalise the terms regarding the shared rights of your custody before we leave the Isle.”

Rosa froze, alarm appearing on her face. “Wait, what was that last part?”

“Your shared custody,” Scarlett repeated, her expression utterly serious. “Surely, you did not expect the Rising Isle to simply relinquish such a valuable research subject without concessions? Naturally, I agreed to some of their terms to facilitate future collaboration.”

Rosa stared at her, mouth slightly open. For a moment, Scarlett wondered if she’d actually managed to trick her — but then the woman’s betrayed look quickly melted into a wry smile, followed by a bubbling laugh. “A bit heavy-handed for a joke, but I can respect the commitment.”

The corner of Scarlett’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles. “I hardly think you should be commenting on ‘heavy-handed’ humour.”

“No, maybe not.” Rosa wiped away an imaginary tear, then paused, her gaze mellowing again. “You know, I prefer this version of you.”

“…And what, precisely, is that supposed to mean? Are there versions of me that you dislike?”

“You’ll have to excuse me for not stepping on that trap,” Rosa said with a teasing grin, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “I just meant that I like the version of you that feels comfortable enough to joke, no matter the questionable quality of said jokes. When I first walked in, you seemed more sedate, which I get. I’m just glad that’s not all there is.”

“I was hardly ‘sedate’,” Scarlett said.

Rosa’s grin widened. “No, but you’d complain even more if I used an accurate term.”

Scarlett shot her a brief glare, but the woman’s grin didn’t waver. Eventually, Scarlett shook her head, accepting that even when the bard knew how to read the mood, she didn’t always bother adhering to it.

“…But seriously,” Rosa added after a pause, her tone more sombre. “You know you don’t have to joke if you’re not feeling it, right? It’s okay to be…not okay. I might not be the best person to say that, but it’s still true. I just want you to know that you don’t have to force it.”

Scarlett’s own expression relaxed slightly as she considered the woman. “…I am aware, yes. And I assure you, I am fine. I am not forcing anything.”

She wondered, briefly, if Rosa had somehow suspected what had happened to Arlene. If that was why she had come looking for Scarlett the moment she woke.

“Yeah? Good, then,” Rosa said. A few beats passed in silence before she spoke again. “…But you were just joking about that whole ‘custody’ thing, right?”