A Change of Shoes

The butler opened the doors to the three guest rooms one by one.

"Sir and Madam, you'll be in this room. Miss Evelyn will be next door, and young master Richard will be in the room at the very end."

He handed the keys to each of them.

"If you need anything, ring for a servant. Someone will come to show you the way before dinner."

Before turning to leave, the butler noticed the obviously ill-fitting little leather shoes on Evelyn's feet and made a mental note of it.

Richard walked down the corridor toward the far end.

When he opened the door, the room was at least three times the size of his bedroom.

There were no gold-plated ornaments or crystal chandeliers, the sort of things that immediately made you think of how expensive they were.

But the materials, craftsmanship, and age of everything in the room spoke for themselves.

That was the essence of old money. The Gray Family's car had given him the same impression.

He took off his jacket, damp with sweat, and hung it on a hook, then picked a waistcoat from his spare clothes and put it on.

A shirt and waistcoat weren't inappropriate for a dinner party, but they were far more relaxed than a three-piece suit.

After changing, Richard sprawled across the bed, arms and legs outstretched, and began to review what had just happened.

There was no longer any doubt that his maternal grandfather was part of the Occult Side.

The way he had crushed Richard's Micro-circulation with the Aether Field had been clean and precise, controlled with effortless ease.

He had released it against Richard alone; no one else nearby had sensed a thing.

A Practitioner couldn't achieve that level of precision.

A Practitioner's use of Aether was still at the active stage, like picking up a tool to do a job—every step demanded their full concentration.

But his grandfather's move had been as if he were Aether itself, able to control the Aether Field with nothing more than a thought.

The difference between the two was a qualitative leap between ranks.

According to the ranks deciphered from that book, Flora of the Western Continent:

Novice, Practitioner, Adeptus Minor, Adeptus Major, Virtuoso, Magister, Archon.

His grandfather was likely at least an Adeptus Minor, and possibly an Adeptus Major.

The book had almost nothing to say about the fifth rank, Virtuoso, or anything above it.

But from the scattered phrases, it seemed those higher ranks had already strayed beyond the realm of "human."

His grandfather probably hadn't reached that level yet.

Somewhere between Adeptus Minor and Adeptus Major—that was the most reasonable judgment Richard could make for now.

But whichever rank he was, he was so powerful that Richard couldn't hope to match him.

Judging by how his grandfather's attitude had changed after the test, Richard had probably passed.

He didn't know whether passing the test was a good thing, but whatever his grandfather was planning, Richard couldn't let it throw him off his own rhythm.

He got to his feet, intending to open the door and look around the floor.

His fingers had just touched the doorknob when a muffled thump came from the room next door.

It sounded like something had hit the wall, perhaps a chair or stool.

By the time the sound reached him, it was already quite indistinct. The soundproofing in a high-end residence like this was excellent.

Evelyn was staying next door.

Richard's hand paused on the doorknob as he waited a few seconds.

Nothing followed.

Maybe she'd kicked a piece of furniture? Knocked something over while changing?

He frowned. In an unfamiliar place, a little extra caution never hurt.

Richard turned and went back to the side of the room against the wall, sinking his attention into the Seat of the Sun.

A thread of Aether split off from his Micro-circulation and traveled up along the side of his neck, guided into his ear canal.

As Aether flowed through his cochlea, his hearing became extraordinarily sensitive, and the sounds in the next room suddenly grew clear.

"No, no need! Really, there's no need!"

His sister sounded flustered.

"Miss, the butler asked me to bring these shoes for you to try. See which pair fits."

The other voice belonged to an older woman, probably one of the maids from the estate.

"I can change them myself! Just leave them at the door, okay? Leave them there!"

"Miss, I need to check the size to make sure they fit..."

"No need to measure! My feet... I, I'm a little uncomfortable at the moment!"

"Miss?" The maid sounded confused.

Richard had already figured out what was going on.

Before they left that morning, he'd given his socks to his sister. They were a full size too big for her.

She'd stuffed them into little leather shoes that were already tight, then walked around in them for half a day. And the Imperial Capital was warmer than Briston...

Her feet had been wrapped up all day. It wasn't hard to imagine what condition they were in.

"Miss, are you uncomfortable? Should I call a doctor?"

"No, no, no! Go out first. I'll change them myself!"

Through the wall, Richard heard the entire sound performance.

First came a burst of hurried footsteps, probably Evelyn quickly backing away across the room;

Then the chair scraped again, probably because his sister had bumped into its back;

The maid chased after her footsteps, and the two of them went around at least half the room.

It didn't sound like anything serious.

He drew the Aether back from his hearing. His shoulders shook as he struggled to hold in his laughter.

A few minutes later, he heard a door open and close next door.

Soon, someone knocked on the door to Richard's room.

"It's unlocked," he called.

Evelyn poked half her head around the door. "Richard?"

"What is it?"

The girl stood on the carpet with both hands hidden behind her back.

Her face was red from the tips of her ears down to her neck.

"Did you... hear anything?"

"What?"

"I mean... the sounds next door."

"These walls are well soundproofed. I didn't hear a thing." Richard kept a straight face.

Evelyn stared at him suspiciously for several seconds, then slowly let out a breath.

"The maid insisted on helping me change my shoes."

"So let her."

"I wore your socks today! I walked around in them all day!"

Her expression was somewhere between mortified and furious.

"You're only changing shoes, not feet."

"You don't understand!" Evelyn's voice rose a notch.

"She was kneeling in front of me, trying to take off my shoes... I... I couldn't bring myself to stick my feet out."

The girl's whole face was red enough to start smoking.

"What if she tells someone... says that the Ashford Family's granddaughter..."

"She won't. The maids don't go around spreading gossip."

"How do you know?!"

"Because in a family like this, anyone who can't keep their mouth shut gets fired."

Evelyn opened her mouth. It made sense, but she still felt uneasy.

"Did you change them or not?"

"I did." She stuck a foot out from behind her back to show him.

She wore a pair of soft-soled, dark brown sheepskin shoes. They fit just right.

"These are more comfortable than my own shoes."

She couldn't help stamping on the carpet twice, her embarrassment giving way to contentment.

"Then there you go."

"But my socks..." She drew her foot back again.

"I stuffed them under the pillow. Make sure I don't forget to take them when we leave."

"You should find somewhere to wash and hang them up to dry."

"What if someone sees them? A pair of oversized, smelly socks hanging up at the Ashford Family's house?"

"...That's a fair point."

"So I put them under the pillow."

"Planning to make the pillow suffer too?"

Evelyn glared at him, turned around, and slammed the door shut.

Two seconds later, the door opened a crack again.

"Come knock on my door before dinner. We'll go downstairs together."

"All right."

"And one more thing."

"Hm?"

"If you tell anyone about the socks, I'm disowning you as my brother."