The young woman stared at the path. She tapped it with one foot. The dead rabbit lay in her arms. And at that moment, a girl with pale skin and a basket full of dried wood on her back walked into view.

“Father? Is that y—”

The girl wore a handkerchief over her hair. Her dress was plain, black and white, which suited the landscape, and she could have stepped out of a portrait of the dark ages, especially if it was in black and white. She had a pair of long wooden tongs she’d been using to pick up sticks with.

She stopped when she saw Cara. The young woman from Ireland had dirt on her clothing. Dust. But her clothes were the brightest thing in this dreary landscape, colored by dyes this world had not yet discovered.

Cara’s face was likewise dirty, and tears stood out in her eyes. She had been singing opera for the rabbit.

It lay in her arms, skull and neck clearly broken, a bundle of black fur she carried like a precious sin.

The two young women stopped and stared at each other. The village-girl was perhaps sixteen. She froze as Cara stopped staring at the road she’d been only a few feet from. They studied each other. The

[Actress]’ eyes bulged. Then she caught herself. She smiled weakly as the girl stared at the dead rabbit in her arms.

“…Hello. You wouldn’t happen to know where we are, would you? I’m quite lost.”

The girl wavered. Her eyes flicked to the rabbit, then Cara’s face. She started, and curtsied. Quite well, too; Cara had been forced to learn for the stage, but it was second-nature to this girl.

“H-hello, Miss. I am most sorry if I’ve disturbed you. W-we’re just outside of Landsmecht.”

“Where?”

The young woman licked her lips.

“A village in Afiele, Miss. Lady…?”

Cara realized the girl was staring at her bright clothing. Even with jeans—the clothing must have made her look richer than the girl’s plain cotton.

“Oh, no. I’m no lady. I mean…[Lady]. My name is Cara. Cara O’Sullivan. Afiele? You mean, Noelictus.

The—Kingdom of Shade, right?”

The girl gave Cara another look, this time more searching, as if wondering if Cara was a bit touched. She nodded slowly.

“Yes, Miss. Are you alright? Have you lost your horse? We can find it. These lands are under the aegis of Lord Lantal of Afiele. I—I apologize. My name is Violetta Geishart. W-were you attacked by a monster?

Or undead…?”

She eyed Cara’s disheveled state again. And now the [Actress] had to make a decision.