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“Iris!” Hecate called for the thousandth time. Iris sighed; she did not want to talk. She stopped their flight, even if she did not want to, Hecate was not of the same mind.

“I’m sorry,” Iris whispered, her voice filled with grief. “I have had an encounter with their Ruler once, and it is not a pleasant memory. I do not want to talk about it.”

Hecate jumped onto her platform, “Then, say that! I thought you were angry that I stopped you,” Hecate tightly hugged her, too tight; she was almost crushing Iris. Yet, Iris only felt warmth and frailty. She was not used to so much emotion; her chest was in pain—every time she took in a breath, her heart would feel like something was squeezing it. Iris hoped the pain was only due to that. The pain did not show on her face; Iris was used to much more pain to let on only this much.

The storm cloud erupted, startling Hecate, followed by droplets of cold harsh rain. Hecate broke off and let out a pained whine.

“I hate rain,” Hecate sounded like she was physically hurt by water. She brought up her vest to cover her head. A futile effort, and a childish one. Iris could not help but smile.

“Let me help you,” Iris loved the rain, especially this kind of thunderous one. She was lightning, after all. She would very much like to stay in it a little longer. “I will create a cover for you.”

Iris summoned a second Weaver’s Orb and shaped it like a shroud over the platform; it slowly met the edge and became one. Like an igloo. It was dark now; she opened little holes on the sides to keep the air and light moving.

“You’re so good at everything; I feel like a deadweight with you,” Hecate muttered, her shoulder slumped.

“You’re not, Hecate,” Iris unsheathed the sword, blood dripped off the katana and splattered on the platform, “Strength is not a person’s everything, neither is it free. This blade belongs to Mayumi Sakuragi, and the blood that clings to it, even after years of not meeting flesh, is of the dearest person to her heart—her younger brother. She killed him in order to save him. A cursed blade that would devour the mind of its bearer. You saw just earlier what happened. I bear the curse of it, so I have the strength of it.” Hecate silently listened to her, her energetic self, for once, serious.

“First day of the Labyrinth, I had my eyes taken, in return, I lived that day, I survived, and I became stronger. I was tortured for hours by Stormborn; his lightning dried off my blood, yet he kept me alive to torture me more.” Iris pointed the blade to her right arm, “When I lost all my strength, to even squeak out a little noise, he crushed this hand; it did not break, it shattered like glass. That’s what my body had become. Winny used the Magic of Eve to save me, and you can see what has become of her. She was just like you—a cheerful partner, but now she is just a husk.”

Iris sighed. She was rambling in front of someone she had met today; she did not understand why. Yet her resemblance to Winny made her closer than she actually was. “A sacrifice is required for every step you take for strength. You’re not a deadweight, Hecate. I am the one who has paid too many prices; it is unfair for you to compare me. Neither would I want you to go through the suffering I have.”

“Nor, I will claim strength is useless, or I would give up on it. It will be a lie; we are here, and having this conversation is due to my strength. Strength is necessary, and you will have as much strength as you need, and it would extract the price that is to be paid.” Iris paused, “All I want to say is, your strength is sufficient, and you’ll grow in time; if you rush, you’ll suffer. And I don’t want that, and I don’t want you to feel down when you see me, or feel envious of my strength.” Iris realized she just did not want Hecate to be envious of her strength.

“I get it,” Hecate smiled, It was different from usual, and leapt forward, pulling Iris into another hug, “Ah, you’re so caring, and nice, and kind; I’m so glad I approached you.”

…

It was almost five when they returned to the Mansion; Iris held a package in her hand, it was her clothes.

“I’ll go and see what master is doing, BYE!” And like that, Iris was left alone, in the hall, wondering what she was supposed to do.

“Miss Iris,” Viktor addressed her as if she were some sort of high Lady, “Your room has been prepared. If you will follow me.”

Iris nodded. Viktor turned and walked ahead, Iris struggled behind him. He walked unusually fast. She noted he was going the same hallway that led to Diantha’s Office. He walked past the stairs that led to her office and stopped at a closed door.

“Lady Diantha has suggested that Miss Iris should wash and then get dressed, at Six, you’ll be leaving with Miss Hecate and Lord Felix for tonight’s Opening Party.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“Right, then I’ll go in.” Iris opened the door, closed the door behind and noticed the Giant Bed. It looked kingly, and Iris dropped head-first onto the mattress. Startling the sleeping Cat on her head. It let out a meow and scratched at Iris’s face, to no avail. It never reached Iris.

“I am going to a Big Shot Party— Can’t have scratch marks,” Iris patted the cat and left it on the bed. She needed to cleanse herself of the disgust, phantom disgust to be precise, that she only felt.

Iris’s clothes Vanished as she entered the bathroom. She noticed how big it was compared to inn's and felt quite proud of the upgrade. In all seriousness, she was only gaining from this agreement. Edeath’s location, Hecate, big bathroom, and super soft bed. What else? New and expensive clothes— She had no idea if they were good or not, though.

Inside the Bathroom, she found a cabinet— filled with all kinds of things. Pretentious and wasteful, her first thought was. That thought went down the drain as she smelled them. They smelled like Noble Lady. By that, she meant they smelled like Diantha.

Iris filled the bathtub, poured the whole bottle into it, and jumped in. A cool sensation enveloped her body. She found this fun.

So much fun, that she spent a little too much time inside. Finally realizing she might be late, Iris hurriedly dried herself, which was a chore with one hand, and walked out.

As she opened the bathroom door, Iris found the evening sun staring at her. Duchess was sitting on the bed, Winny on her lap, sleeping peacefully. Iris tilted her head in confusion.

“Did I take too long?” She asked, walking towards her. She showed no particular reaction to being seen naked, or one might say, she did not even register it.

“Yes, fortunately— I had told you the wrong time. Dinner starts at seven, and Hecate is also getting ready. So, I decided to check up on you.” Diantha presented the bag of clothes in front of her, “I also realized, wearing something like this would be hard for you, being limited as you are, and also lacking experience in wearing clothes. Do you want me to help you wear these?”

“I would forever be grateful,” Iris tried to replicate Viktor’s voice, it sounded as childish as it does in your head. Diantha let out a chuckle.

Iris was not against it, for the simple reason that she had only worn a rag as a real piece of clothing. Her current clothing was weaved of Mana. Mayumi had her wear the clothes once; it was a bloodied rag in all senses, but Iris learned how to weave them. Since then, she had only worn them.

The clothes consisted of a long coat, the outer side was white with blue floral patterns on the sleeves and edge, and six purple stripes on the left shoulder, while the inner side was completely light blue.

A grey shirt that matched her hair and bandages on her eyes, its collar and sleeves also having a floral pattern. And simple black pants.

“Where are your underclothes?” Diantha questioned, looking through all the clothes, “Wait, you did not bring your luggage from the Inn?”

“I don’t have anything there, and what are underclothes?” Iris asked, confused at the new and bizarre word. Underclothes? Like under what?

“No one ever taught you about that?” Diantha's eyes narrowed, looking at her as if she was an alien. A gaze she was far too familiar with. At least Diantha did not harbour any malice towards her.

Iris concluded that it was part of Basic Knowledge. Yet, she never received any knowledge from the system. Well, the System was broken for most of the things. She was supposed to receive all the basic knowledge she must have, but most of the time she was lacking. Except for Language, She found she lacked most human norms, like underclothing. Basic Knowledge of Labyrinth was working well at least, she knew about everything she needed to be there.

“I’ve only known one human before coming to this city, and she was a ghost, so my knowledge of human norms is lacking,” Iris replied, hoping it would appease whatever Diantha found suspicious.

“I see, that is… sad,” Diantha picked up the pants, “Underclothes are something you wear before these clothes, to cover your private parts. As to why? That is a discussion to be had later.”

Iris felt relief, at least, she knew about private parts. Something she must protect from a few specific monsters, or it would lead to a very miserable situation. Fortunately, she was strong enough by the time she encountered them.

“Time to get you dressed,” Diantha voiced as she moved closer.

Iris had not thought much of the offer, but she now realized there were things she felt uncomfortable about in this situation, even though she did not understand why. First, being in close proximity to Diantha. Second, she somehow felt vulnerable, even though she was a Level 6 and Diantha was a non-mage.

Diantha stepped away after buttoning the pants. Iris sighed in relief, but that relief lasted only a second. She watched Diantha pick up the shirt.

The feeling of uncomfortableness was different, unlike anything she had ever experienced before. It was like a fire spirit had taken hold of her skin, burning, and her head felt light like steam coming off it. The burning sensation was not painful, yet it was, and it only intensified wherever Diantha touched, even through a layer of soft fabric.

Iris sighed again when Diantha stepped away after buttoning her shirt. Her skin was still burning. Iris sucked in the sigh as Diantha picked up the belt and made her way back to her.

The unfamiliar feeling left her weak. Iris found her current state alarming. Common sense told her she should step away from Diantha, and stop her from coming close, yet she could not voice that out. She felt weak, yet she wanted to do something, she did not know what, but something, like punching a monster back into the labyrinth, even though she was a caster.

Her knees could no longer bear the weight of her distress; they gave out, and she fell on her knees just as Diantha finished fastening the belt. She stared at the ever-glowing eyes, her breath hitched, and her chest was beating like she had used Tier 7 magic.

“You look dashing,” Diantha whispered, a charming smile on her face. Right now, to Iris, she looked more dangerous than Laydell.