Yesterday, I slept like a rock. No idea what kind of witchcraft Ravena put on me to make me fall asleep so peacefully, I just know it worked in a way that I'm even impressed. Two days have passed since the astral projection, I decided to take the following day off and walk around to pass the time.

Wow, what a gay feeling, I'm literally alone. Walking here through the Ring districts, the brothels don't even call out to me that much, the desire to drink something also seems to have plummeted below zero. The air here, mixed with pussy and cheap perfume, is still pleasant to my nose, but it has no real effect.

My dick isn't getting hard, my libido has vanished, and the short clothes of the night ladies, or even the extravagant dresses of the courtesans, barely attract my eyes. Could it be that Leonhardt's "thing" finally hit me and I've become impotent? I hope not, I still need my best friend for some things.

Anyway, I'm unconcerned.

The biggest crisis that would have plagued the kingdom, the Libertarians, was contained, and they managed to put a chain around Philomeu's neck. The moth lady who wanted to stuff me is gone. The crazy witch seems to have become sane after the Silver Scar ritual... everything is normal.

Hah. This sun still hurts my eyes, but fuck it, I came here on my own and I intend to enjoy the solitude anyway. There's a peace in not having a Golden Retriever following me wagging his tail, or a black cat demanding to sit on my lap, or even a bear wanting to carry me on his shoulder.

In retrospect, why does everyone seem so much like specific animals? Jeez.

"I need a vacation at a resort instead of solving other people's problems."

Victorian's issue is a delicate one that I still need to resolve. I tried to talk to Duke Moonlight about this colleague's situation and how he became a slave, so I suggested we go North to leave him there and thus retrieve his family. However, he stopped me right away.

"It's better to resolve it with the king" he said, which I would agree with if the Duke wasn't the second highest authority in the kingdom. Go figure, these old farts with their boring bureaucracy.

My steps pass through the crowd of people walking back and forth even with the sun high in the sky. There's no time not to fuck, as the old poets of these street corners like to rhyme.

A tap touches my shoulder. Fucking hell, who came to bother me? If it's Leonhardt, I'm going to...!

"Darius, it really is you!"

"Elizia!"

How wonderful! This goddess with blonde hair and blue eyes, with breasts that don't even fit in my hand, is in front of me! The best lady of the night in the city, and the only one I have the courage to pay for services for a whole night when I have a bag full of gold coins! Oh, I'm honored by her, with this casual dress and a fruit basket hanging from her arm! She's practically off work now!

"What are you doing here?"

"It's one of my few days off, so I'm buying groceries, makeup, and a few other things..."

"With my money?"

"Whose else would it be? Hehehe."

Even the little laugh is cute, this brightens my life! If only a moment like this could last forever. We walk up the street together, passing the vendor stalls while collecting the basic supplies for Elizia. I'm a gentleman, of course, I'll help my best business partner with anything.

Speaking of which, there's one thing I need to confirm...

"Ah, Elizia, have you thought about my proposal to become a maid?"

"Yes? What about it?"

"Well, it won't be long before they raise a call for staff numbers and bring in new ones. I thought it would be better to warn you than to leave it for later."

"Oh, that's sweet of you! But still, it's worrying. By any chance, does your personality change when you're not drunk?"

"In a way. I get much more daring and crazy when I'm drunk. Why do you think I picked fights with every son of a bitch who was looking for trouble at Madame Cerise's brothel?"

She narrows her eyes, probably impressed that I even know the name of the brothel I frequent most, but what I commented is true. I've known Elizia since I became a real man, since I lost my virginity, and I owe her a lot because of the months we spent together.

I mean, I know it's something much more commercial and logistical than sentimental, but still, having sex with her and drinking until I fall to the floor was my therapy. It worked well for a while, but with the interference of others and everything that happened before, I feel like it's become harder to go back to the ring districts with a hard-on.

She grips the basket tightly and lets out a dry, almost shy laugh, as if the memory of what we experienced before was something she preferred to hide. Or maybe she was just used to dealing with me as a client, not as... I don't know, a street friend.

"You know, Darius" she comments, fiddling with the fruit without a care "you always say these things about 'taking me out of the brothel' as if it were simple, but I've been there for years. My debts, my connections... none of that is cut off overnight."

I shrug, reaching for a peach from the basket without even asking.

"And since when do I care about 'difficult'? Everything I do causes problems, Elizia. The difference is that at least with you, I know the problem is worth it, besides, it's always good in the end."

She turns her face towards me. Those blue eyes shine in the sun and reflect part of the sunlight, showing an angelic aura surrounding this beautiful courtesan. A half-smile appears, but it's not the professional smile she throws at rich jerks, it's genuine.

How do I know? Simple, after frequenting the same person for so long, sometimes, the professional mask drops and you peel away some layers of information. The first was that the expressions of the courtesans in the brothels are well-crafted to please clients, not to please some random boyfriend. It's full of falsity, you need a keen eye to notice, and I... I realize now that I'm receiving a sincere gesture.

"You talk nicely when you're not drunk. I can almost believe you."

Almost. That word cuts me more than it should.

We keep walking, the noise of the market around us muffling our conversation. The crowded stalls, the smell of fresh bread, the sweat of the crowd... all of it disappears when I look at her adjusting her simple dress, so different from the silk clothes she wears on nights at Madame Cerise's.

"So..." I call out, scratching the back of my neck, "have you thought about what it would be like to work with me? Like, for real. Not as a lady of the night, but as someone who... I don't know, accompanies me."

"You ask me to be a 'maid,' but you talk as if it were something else." She raises an eyebrow. "What do you want from me, Darius?"

Shit. Good question.

I shrug and let out a somewhat strained laugh, trying to cover it up, but inside I feel my throat tighten. I don't know if I want an employee, a plaything, or... ah, what the hell am I thinking? I sound like a teenager again!

"I want you." Huh? Those words came out... "My way, no bullshit."

What the hell. It was a reflex, this is a terrible sign.

She stops walking. The market is still alive, but all I see is her there, radiant blonde with a basket of fruit on her arm and that look that pierces me as if she could see all my lies.

"Darius... you have no idea what kind of trouble that could be."

And that's when I realize: for the first time, Elizia is not talking to me as a client. I breathe as deeply as possible, feeling my fingers protest, wanting to clench and slap myself before inventing some random excuse for this.

These feelings are not genuinely mine, they belong to Darius Moonlight, the original owner of this body. I should have noticed a long time ago, but I... he, us, fuck it, we have an interest in this person. That's why I didn't want a relationship with Moriah, nor did I want to start something with someone else, I was just there for the sex and the pleasure, nothing more than satisfying the flesh.

Seriously, how ridiculous. Out of all people, you decided to choose a whore? Someone who has been selling her body on these streets longer than you've known her? This is just a soap opera romance, something that doesn't work out in real life, let's face it.

"What? I was just kidding!"

I stretch my fist up, giving Elizia a few pats on the back before we continue walking.

"Come on, are you going to tell me I can't dream about you being my maid just so we have an excuse to hook up every day?"

Elizia, unfortunately, doesn't respond with any trace of animation. The rest of our walk is paved with silence and the sunset... Man, Ravenna was right, I'm terrible at hiding my stuff.