Later, Rein couldn’t quite recall how things unfolded. Her hazy memories only held Sophia explaining the trick to handle Hill when controlled by the sigil: bloodletting. That’s why Sophia’s short sword was stained with blood.

Rein woke up lying on the right-side bed in the room. A thin but surprisingly warm quilt covered her. Instead of a doll, she clutched half a dark rye bread to her chest. Though she hadn’t moved much overnight, crumbs littered her clothes.

She sat up, stuffed the bread into her pocket, and found yesterday’s leftover plain bread and some pork jerky already there. Rein felt like a true vagrant—hoarding food despite having steady access, as if the next meal might vanish.

She took a bite of the rye bread. Stale from being tucked under the quilt, its taste was awful. Rein tossed it out the window. A crash echoed below—her bread had shattered someone’s windowpane.

After tidying her pockets, she washed her face with water from a basin Sophia must have left. Damp fingers smoothed her messy silver hair. Only then did Rein push open the door and head downstairs.

Downstairs, Sophia was preparing breakfast. The inn didn’t serve meals, so she cooked herself. Rein trusted her skills—no disastrous dishes here.

"Little Rein, up already?"

"Mm..."

Rein nodded, walking straight to the table and taking a seat.

The meal was simple: steaming mashed potatoes, a small dish of slightly gritty salt, and the standard dark rye bread. A farmer could work all day on this.

As Rein debated adding salt to her potatoes, Sophia placed a wooden beer mug filled with hot milk before her.

"Little Rein, you must finish this! Or you’ll never grow tall!"

The milk smelled rich, but the portion was huge. Rein calculated she’d have no room for anything else. She pushed the mug aside.

"Huh? Don’t like milk?" Sophia asked, spreading potato mash on bread with a spoon.

"Wait..."

Rein pulled the potato dish closer, seasoned it with salt, and began eating.

A loud thud echoed from the doorway—someone had tripped and fallen flat.

Hill woke that morning dizzy and aching all over. She shouldn’t get low blood sugar, yet last night was a blank. Stumbling on instinct, she reached the inn only to trip over the raised threshold, nearly losing face.

"Hey, anyone know what I did last night?"

Only three people were present. Rein stayed silent. Sophia retorted, "Who knows where you partied? You’re supposed to be a nun..." Her tone implied Hill was unfit for the role.

Dazed, Hill ignored the jab. She grabbed the wooden mug and gulped the milk down.

"Sc-sc-scalding... but awesome!" She clutched her reddened lips.

Sophia frowned, ready to scold, but Rein cut in: "I’m full."

"Full? Wait—I’ll heat more milk—"

"No thanks. I don’t want it."

"If you skip it, you’ll end up flat like Hill!" Sophia pointed at Hill’s chest. Her daily nun outfit was fitted, revealing her figure.

Very flat. Universally praised.

Hill had a slight curve, but it was nearly nonexistent. Young as she was, growth seemed unlikely.

"Doesn’t matter," Rein said. She truly didn’t care—having none felt freer.

"Nonsense! Little Rein, this spot is a girl’s secret weapon to conquer men!"

"Not needed."

Rein suddenly wondered about her future. Once a man, now a woman, she’d never accept men without a mindset shift. Same-sex marriage didn’t exist here. Except for that female Mage she’d met in Gloria—she openly loved women, unchallenged by any man.