I had been writing a magic scroll by the candlelight when my eyes started to get watery.
I heard once that there was a lamp-like object called a “magic lamp” for light magic.
It seemed like it would be incredibly handy for nights like this when I found myself working late.
Contemplating the idea, I considered approaching Ms. Fuyu to inquire about the spell formula and possibly attempt its creation if it appeared easy enough.
It was probably around past the fifth hour of the earth (around 22:00) currently.
Just as I was about to go to bed, I heard a knocking sound on the shutters.
“Barton, open up! I’m freezing to death!”
I opened the window, and Kimberly jumped into the room along with the cold night breeze.
“It’s so cold, so cold! Bless me with fire magic!”
“Can it be used for that? Come here, in my hands.”
I wrapped my hands around Kimberly’s freezing body to warm her up.
“Phew, that feels refreshing.”
“You’re completely cold. Would you like hot water and whiskey from Giselle?”
“I’d rather drink a Brandon over Giselle.”
Brandon was a luxurious wine distilled from grapes. When I was at the Sullivan mansion, I used to extract it with a syringe from my father’s bottle and share it with Kimberly. Since she only had a few drops, there was no way we would get caught.
But now, I couldn’t even do that anymore.
“Hey, don’t be so extravagant. Brandon is only available in Warden Blackberry’s room,”
Moreover, it was kept in a locked cabinet, making it impossible to access.
“Well, if that’s the case, I’ll settle for Giselle. But make sure to add honey,” Kimberly replied.
I used a candle to boil water in a pot. I only needed a small amount of hot water, so even a feeble flame would suffice.
“So, did you find out anything?” I asked.
“Well, the thing is, I was hiding to eavesdrop on the couple’s conversation, but they don’t talk at all,” Kimberly explained.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s like they’ve completely grown apart. They don’t exchange a single word even during dinner. The husband is always busy with work, and the wife just wears a sullen expression while doing household chores.”
Mr. Essel was supposed to be in his early forties, but I wonder if at that age, one simply loses interest in their spouse.
“I was eavesdropping, hoping to catch any mention of Jane, but it was a complete swing and a miss. I stayed at that house for hours, and the only conversation I heard was ‘It’s dinner time’ and ‘Understood.’ I can’t understand what they find enjoyable about living together.”
It was astonishing to hear. Even my father, who had completely grown apart from his wife, would occasionally exchange jokes with her. But perhaps it was because they each had acknowledged lovers that they had become indifferent. They seemed to have no feelings for each other, to the point where jealousy wasn’t even a factor.
“That couple even had separate bedrooms,” Kimberly said
“In that case, does it mean there’s no information about Jane?”
“Sorry, Barton! I looked for diaries and such, but all I found in that house were ledgers.”
Kimberly lowered her head, visibly frustrated.
“Here, I’ve made honey-infused hot water with a splash of whiskey. Drink it while it’s warm.”
She had done her best in her own way, so there was no helping it.
“After drinking that, let’s call it a night. Maybe we’ll come up with a good idea tomorrow.”
I didn’t expect things to go so smoothly, but I felt it was important to maintain hope.
However, the next day, Mrs. Essel unexpectedly requested a meeting with Jane, signaling a sudden turn of events.
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