“Why did you choose ‘surprisingly intelligent’ to make me feel better?”
“I’m not going to hold your learning disabilities as a mark against you.”
“What?”
“...You have a learning disability, don’t you?”
“I-I don’t—I don’t… I don’t think so.”
She visibly clenches her teeth. “In the theoretical case, it wouldn’t matter to me. I also had one. You don’t, and that’s mostly acceptable. Next line of your list?”
She… also has one? Why the fuck did I just think ‘also.’ I don’t have one! I think. I hope not.
Ohfuck. What if I do?
I stammer, “Mistress, could I inquire about your—“
“Next line on the list?” she insists.
I, flustered, pull it back into my hand. “Blood? Is that the meat section?”
“No, vampire implements. We’re using human blood and fats.”
The thought of those rituals… I bare my teeth in a smile and push forward.
Everything else comes in easy order; she may even be impressed with me. Or barely satisfied. It’s about the same. But, no complaints is no complaints.
“Vincenza? It’s been so long!” The clerk by the exit excitedly raises her arms. “Are you planning a new parlour event? Am I invited?”
“No. Do the duties of your employment contract and help my apprentice through the payment.”
The clerk looks at me with eyes ready to burst from excitement. “You look so cute besides her!”
“Mina,“ Mistress Vincenza breathes.
“Yes, yes! Okay, let me check everything you have.” The clerk searches through our—pitifully few compared to the cart size—goods, tallying a combined price for each. “Five hundred crescents… You sure you’re not hosting a new event?” she asks with bright eyes.
“No.”
“Aw. But tell me when you do.”
After an exchanged check, we exit to Mistress Vincenza’s car. The engine still has some residual heat, but not enough. Leaving us alone in the near dark, the Great Ring gifting us barely enough light to move around.
“Mistress, could we plan an event?” I slowly ask.
“Training you will be occupying too much of my time.”
There’s always those references to who she was before. The remnants haunt her like an orbiting ring of debris. Piero celebratesher joy like it’s a ship returning on the horizon. Stella reminisces about tailoring for her. I want to be let in. I want to see what they saw.
“It would be training for me. I should know how you created paying patrons, and I would carry the labor for the project.” I clasp my hands together and stare at the Great Ring, rising from the west and east. “I promise, Mistress, I won’t be a burden on this venture.”
“You are a burden; you will continue to be one.” She drums her fingers on the wheel, rings clicking against the wood. “And I chose the privilege of carrying it. Tell me, what event are you hoping for?”
I clasp my hands together and shift closer to her. “I, uh, read the examples of past events in your manual. I really liked the one where you rented out a bar! Well—I would prefer no alcohol. Milkshakes? If they’re malted, it’s almost like… malted alcohol.”
Her tone doesn’t show anything, but there’s something close to curious rumination in the way her mouth opens and closes before settling on words. “I can’t animate servants to pour for us.”
“I’ll animate them! I’ll…”
