"Haaah..." Aliza forced a dry laugh. "You have a temper, don't you?"
"Y-you? How many insolent fools do I have to run into before I go insane!?"
"Insolent? You're just a daughter. Don't you know who I am?" Aliza said, making a smug face.
"You aren't a prostitute?"
"Uh, no. I'm not. I'm Lady Aliza, only heir to house Raffen. Who's the insolent one here? Hm?"
"A-Aliza Von Raffen? Ha! Heir to what? You were disowned! Even if I was only a daughter, at least I'd have that."
"Oh, really? I guess it wouldn't make sense to keep a little girl in the loop—who knows who she'd go around gossiping with, after all. I've actually reinherited the seat of my house."
"Impossible! You're lucky to have not been beheaded! There's absolutely no way!"
"But it's true~" Aliza snickered.
She was actually completely lying. She, too, knew that something like that would be completely impossible, even if her parents still loved her dearly. It was just... not something that could be done. It was true that the young woman was lucky to have gotten away with simple disownment and shattering of her core.
Not that she really agreed with any of it.
"Tch. Why are you here, then?"
"Don't you remember back then, when I'd visit often? I like this place, is all. Don't you?"
'Of course she doesn't,' Aliza thought, grinning.
It was a question meant to upset the young girl. It was ineffective, though, because while Marielle may have been a brat, Aliza had misunderstood the girl. It was an assumption based on her own feelings, and the feelings of many other young noble girls. But it wasn't shared with Lady Marielle de Saivelle.
"I do... I suppose I understand. Who wouldn't want to be in Corvailles? True... be on your way, then. Next time, I won't be so kind."
Marille fluffed her dress and continued on down the hallway, back to rambling about whatever. Aliza stood there, grabbing her chin.
'Huh. She really meant that.'
She shrugged, and continued on her own way, down the opposite end of the hallway. She was heading to the front door for a little excursion.
Don't worry, alcohol wasn't a part of the plan. Well, it wasn't a big part of it, at least.
"Where are you going?" the guard asked with a stern voice.
"...Huh? Why do I have to tell you?"
"Sir Alwyn requested we keep an eye on you, miss."
"Under what authority?" she scoffed.
"The Duke's, miss."
"Aha. I'm simply headed to a tavern, so don't worry."
Seemingly shocked by her transparency, the guard coughed.
"Please do come back before sundown, then. Should we send someone to pick you up, miss?"
"I'm not going to be drinking. Don't you see this big thing on my back?"
"Oh, of course! My apologies, miss. I wasn't aware you were a bard."
"I'm... not. Whatever, leave me alone. If you send anyone after me, I might kill them on accident or something. Seeya."
"Yes, miss."
On Aliza's back was a six-string guitar. It wasn't the typical lute that most bards were using, and often times people wondered why she used such a strange instrument in the first place. It was something she'd owned since she was a young girl, and she was good at using it. That was all.
Aliza whistled as she walked through the bustling noon streets. The lively atmosphere was exactly what she needed. That large palace that Duke Saivelle stayed in was, despite its size, absolutely suffocating.
The cobbles beneath her feet gently rubbed against each other, creating a satisfying sound as she and others roamed. The sound of rushing water, too, was too satisfying. The clopping of horse feet, the calling of merchants, the cheers of the people.
Too long had Aliza spent wasting away in that small, decaying city, absorbed in fruitless research. And with what to show for it? Now, she was deathly ill, and had the smallest of the smallest meagre red cores which was almost incapable of performing even the simplest spells.
'Aquanus, you bastard. I must've gone mad to try and make a deal with you. Damned saints...!'
"Oh? I'm a bastard? A bastard? Me? A bastard!? How about you!?"
'Shut up, bastard. Bastard, bastard, bastard. That's right. What sort of god spends all his time annoying a puny mortal? I'm not having your kids, you deviant!'
Since that time a few months prior, Aliza's deal with Saint Aquanus, he had been speaking to her. She had done well in hiding it. Very well. The saint, too, did well. Whatever method a god used to speak remotely to people was not noticeable even to someone as keen as Alwyn.
"Do you seriously, seriously, seriously think, that I, the great Saint Aquanus, am fully occupied with you, girl!? That I want you to birth my children?"
He burst into maniacal laughter.
'Yeah, actually. I do.'
"Hmm... impudent. Impudent. Impudent...!"
The god wasn't too talkative, only speaking when something amused or offended him, and never for long. It seemed he wasn't eager for conversation. Not with Aliza, at least.
She shook her head, pushing the thoughts of the deity away as she arrived at the front of the tavern. It was a different one from the previous night. She was pretty sure that place would've turned her away insantly. This one was a lot bigger, anyway, and seemed to have a good reputation.
Behind the doors, a decently filled room revealed itself. It wasn't the prime hours for tavern-going, so the place even being this filled was certainly impressive.
"Who owns this place?" Aliza called out to the waitress.
"Mr. Gerry, over there. Are you a bard?"
"...I guess."
The waitress clasped her hands together and smiled. She wasn't a bard, but it really made no difference.
"That's perfect! Mr. Gerry was just talking about how he wanted some music! Mr. Gerry, over here!"
The towering man walked over with a curious expression.
"What is it? Is this person being a problem?"
"No, no. She says she's a bard."
"Really, now? A pretty lady like you's a bard? Well, nice to meet you. I'm Gerry." He held out his hand.
Aliza shook it with a rough grip.
"I'm Aliza. And I'm glad you find me pretty," she smirked.
"You've got a strong handshake! It's a shame you feel so brittle. And that height, too... are you sure you're a bard?"
"Pretty sure."
"Ha! Alright, Aliza. How much would you like?"
"I'll play for free. I don't need any money, I just want to play."
Gerry narrowed his eyes, surely wondering if the woman in front of him was actually a musician. He wouldn't want ear-bleed-inducing music to scare all his patrons out.
"Play a tune for me, then, as payment. Right now."