Summon the Modern Lady!

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Cheska Reyes, 26 years old.

There were a lot of things in life she hated rather than liked. High on that list was unorganized and unprepared people—those who impulsively made decisions and failed to follow through.

Take the high school reunion group chat, for example. People would suddenly pop in, brimming with enthusiasm about hosting a reunion, tossing out random dates and venues as if everything was already set in stone.

But when the day came?

No reservations. Half the attendees couldn't make it. And the other half would awkwardly mill about, wondering why they even bothered to show up.

It was messy. It was frustrating. And it made her hate people all the more.

Unfortunately, this time, the unprepared person wasn't someone else.

It was her.

Amaranthe tipped her sun hat to the side with a gloved hand, her green eyes focused on the task at hand.

"Outing? Uh…" she hesitated, glancing over her shoulder.

She had been weeding the garden alongside Pete since early morning. Today was Tuesday—his scheduled weed-pulling session—and Amaranthe, true to form, had joined in to help. Even now, dirt smudged her gloves, and a few stray leaves clung to her apron.

Well, look at that, whispered the voice in Cheska's mind. She has an excuse.

Quiet.

Cheska snapped internally, shaking off the unwanted thought.

"Are you not able to…?" she coughed awkwardly, trying to sound casual. Something about Amaranthe's reluctance felt heavy, almost deliberate, and the idea of forcing her to join seemed wrong.

Still, her own frustration simmered beneath the surface.

Amaranthe's gaze drifted to the people standing behind Cheska.

One was Kalis, Cheska's personal maid, who offered a polite bow. Beside her stood Sir Walt, the guardian knight Emette had introduced earlier. Calm and composed, the man radiated a quiet strength.

Finally, Amaranthe's attention settled on Pete, the young boy a few paces away. Her shoulders relaxed as if the decision had been made for her.

"I'm sorry, Cheska," she said softly, shaking her head. "I can't leave Pete here alone. There was a snake last time, and I'd feel better staying with him."

Excuses.

This time, Cheska didn't bother to silence the whisper. Excuses or not, Amaranthe wasn't coming. Deflated, she nodded and turned back to Kalis and Walt, preparing to leave on her own.

But before she could take another step—

"M-my hand!"

Pete's voice rang out, sharp with pain.

Amaranthe was at his side in an instant, her smile vanishing as her instincts kicked in. Cheska followed quickly, her breath hitching when she saw what had happened.

Pete's pruning shears had slipped, leaving a deep, diagonal gash across his small palm.

The boy clutched his injured hand, tears streaming down his cheeks as blood seeped between his fingers. His sobs were jagged, each one pulling at the hearts of those around him.

"Pete!" Amaranthe gasped, kneeling beside him. Her voice was steady despite the panic in her eyes.

"It's okay, Pete," she murmured, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket and pressing it firmly against the wound. "I'm here. We'll take care of this, all right? Deep breaths, now. You're a brave boy."

Pete's trembling slowed as Amaranthe's calm presence grounded him.

Walt stepped forward, his voice firm but gentle. "My lady, let me carry him to the clinic."

Amaranthe shook her head as she stood, her hand still firmly on Pete's shoulder. "It's all right. The bleeding isn't too bad. I'll take him myself."

Cheska watched, her chest tightening. She wanted to help, to do something useful, but before she could act, Amaranthe turned to her, her green eyes apologetic.

"I'm sorry, Cheska," she said, her voice soft but resolute. "I can't join you today. Pete needs to get to his parents and the clinic as soon as possible."

"Of course," Cheska replied, forcing a smile. "Don't worry about me—just focus on the kid."

Amaranthe's lips curved faintly in gratitude. With one last reassuring pat on Pete's shoulder, she guided him toward the garden's exit.

Cheska stood there for a moment, watching them leave.

Look, she finally has a proper excuse.

Not like she did it.

Did she really not?

Cheska flinched at the insinuating tone of the whispers, shaking her head as she climbed into the waiting carriage with Kalis and Walt.

"That was such a large gash for a child," she murmured, her brow furrowed.

Kalis offered a reassuring smile. "It'll be okay, my lady. There are healers within the royal palace. They'll make sure he recovers quickly."

Cheska nodded but couldn't shake the uneasy feeling gnawing at her chest. 

Once they were all seated in the carriage and it began to move, she turned her attention to the others, realizing a question in her mind.

"Are healers common here?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Walt answered this time, his tone somber. "They used to be... Light mages could heal naturally, as though it were a holy power granted by the godesses. But things changed."

Cheska tilted her head. "Changed how?"

"It started during the Demon King's reign," Walt continued, his eyes darkening as if recalling complicated memories. "The healing power itself began to fade. And even after that being's defeat, the ability to heal never returned fully. Now, only a few people in the entire kingdom possess even a fraction of that power."

Cheska's stomach churned at the revelation. A power so vital to life, so inherently good, now diminished… 

She stared out the carriage window, her unease deepening as she pondered the implications of what Walt had said. The idea of healing magic fading away felt like a shadow creeping over the kingdom— a burden she couldn't ignore, even if it wasn't her world.

But such heavy thoughts were soon swept aside.

To her surprise, roaming the bustling town square of Rudenheischt Capital with Kalis and Walt turned out to be a delightful distraction.

"My lady. You might have been to the area before. Do you recognize it?"

Cheska looked around to humor her guide, "Is this the street for Madam Aurora's Boutique?"

Kalis clapped, cheering for the smallest enthusiasm Cheska could muster against her swirling negative thoughts. "You're right, my lady. This street has some of the best places in Rudenheischt," she explained, her tone light but confident. "From Madam Aurora's Boutique, renowned for its exquisite dresses, to the recently popular coffee shops and bookstores further down."

Cheska nodded, her gaze lingering on a quaint shop with a display of delicate pastries. The bright awnings and carefully arranged stalls made the market feel like something out of a storybook.

Kalis, ever attentive, paused near a stall filled with fragrant cream puffs. "My lady," she said, turning to Cheska with a hopeful smile, "this vendor is famous for their pastries. Would you like to try one?"

"Okay." She replied lightly.

Cheska is having fun. You don't want to go back anymore?

I still do...

She sighed, half-entertaining her whispers and the other half was to keep them in check. In a way it was good to have it since the whispers kept her grounded.

As the three of them roamed around, guided by Kalis' enthusiasm, the awkwardness and barrier disappeared between each other.

"Kalis, how are you such an experienced guide?" 

The maid beamed at her lady's question, answering in a light tone. "My previous mistress was a merchant's daughter, carefree to a fault and liked going from places to places."

Cheska chuckled, "She must've been lovely in her own way," appreciating the explanation.

The maid raised a brow, surprised, and smiled gently before moving on to the next attraction.

With Kalis' knowledge, she eagerly pointed out the latest trends and recommended the best places to enjoy food and drinks. Her enthusiasm was infectious as she led Cheska from one charming vendor to another, each stop brimming with laughter and new discoveries.

Walt, on the other hand, had seemed stoic and reserved at first. But as the outing continued, his demeanor softened. 

At one point, he leaned in with a conspiratorial smile and whispered, "If you're looking for something stronger than tea, I know a few good bars nearby."

Cheska blinked at him, momentarily stunned, before bursting into laughter. "Walt, Are you serious?" Then paused, "...Um can I ask where? I'm asking for a friend."

His smile widens. "If you go down Saint Borough's street behind this one..." he explained.

The unexpected camaraderie between the three of them made the outing feel less like a chore and more like a genuine escape.

As they continued exploring, Cheska felt a small spark of warmth settle in her chest. Though the whispers kept at it nonstop.

You'll be stuck in here forever.

I will go home.

You won't see him any—

"Oh, I apologize!" Cheska gasped,

She stumbled slightly, colliding with a cloaked figure as her distracted mind failed to process her surroundings.

The impact was harder than expected, sending the stranger reeling back a step. A glass bottle slipped from his grip and shattered on the cobblestone street between them.

For a moment, an eerie silence followed.

A strange fume rose from the fragments, curling upward in tendrils that shimmered unnaturally in the sunlight. Cheska's eyes widened as the faint, acrid scent stung her nose.

"It's okay…" the cloaked man said, his voice low and calm, almost unnervingly so.

Cheska blinked, her blue eyes locking onto the figure before her. Something about him tickled at the edges of her memory— familiar, yet elusive.

But he turned around before she could say anything more.

He watched his retreating figure in suspicion. Gazing at the man as he disappeared through the crowd of endless people.

It was then that she realized one thing.

The whispers quieted down... and the man under the hood, wasn't he smiling?

~~~

"Thank you, Lady Amara." 

A trembling but grateful voice broke the quiet hum of the clinic. It was Senia, Pete's mother. Though frail due to recently recovering from an illness, she lowered her head as she could.

"Oh no! Senia! It's really okay..." Amaranthe chuckled nervously, pulling the woman back up and straightened her back. "I'm just helping out as I can."

Her green eyes softened all the more.

Pete was unconscious on the bed of a clinic, located at the ground floor of Rudenheischt Castle. 

"You did well in cleaning the injured area first, my lady." The doctor and healer, Burman, showcased his own appreciation. Though he was the better skilled of the two healers in the clinic, he had never seen a technique to tighten up cloth, pressing it to one spot of the wound.

It is both merciless but can help prevent spilling more blood.

"I just did what I knew..." She smiled.

Suddenly the doors opened, guard knights carried a heavily injured man on a different bed. Burman immediately switched over to their side, excusing him.

"Urgh.." Senia looked away, gasping at the scene while Amaranthe's eyes immediately darted to the new patient. 

The man's leg was mangled, his tattered pants exposing deep, jagged bite marks. 

Amaranthe stepped forward, her voice calm but firm as she pulled a curtain around Senia and Pete to shield them from the sight. "What happened?" Though it was being nosy, she couldn't help but ask.

One of the knights stepped back from his group, letting them aid the injured companion. He turned to Amaranthe and explained, "A horse went wild and attacked its owner. Fortunately it's just his leg but he'll be surely dismissed after this." 

Amaranthe's brows furrowed, her green eyes scanning the injured man with a mix of concern and curiosity. "I see…" 

"No. Quality of life is my goal!" Burman growled, his hands were easily stained from controlling the blood spill, acquiring help from the other guards to press on the wound. "I won't let you live in gloom so hang on!"

"Aaaargh!!!" 

The injured man couldn't help but groan. His pained cries echoing within the clinic.

Amaranthe flinched, her green eyes softening, and fingers twitched as she watched the scene.

Burman left the patient's side after seeing the controlled spill, moving swiftly to prepare the tools to clean the wound and apply the best medicine, all of that while consolidating mana to use his healing magic.

"Twice in a day?" he grumbled. 

Amaranthe's frown deepened, moving closer to the doctor and expertly helped him prepare tools for cleaning. Burman was surprised but nonetheless let her be in gratitude.

"Two similar incidents in one day?" She probed.

The healer hesitated before nodding, his focus already on cleaning the man's wounds. 

"Odd," was the only word that left her mouth.

Amaranthe left the clinic quietly, her footsteps echoing in the stone corridor. Senia had returned to her duties, leaving Pete to rest under the watchful care of the healer.

But as she walked back, an unsettling feeling crept over her.

Her breath fogged in the chilly air as she lifted her gaze to the open sky above.

The sun shone bright, its golden light casting long shadows under the trees which protected her from its radiance. Yet, something about the stillness of noon felt… wrong.

Amaranthe's green eyes narrowed, their sharpness piercing through the vast expanse above.

The wind rustled through the trees, carrying a faint, almost imperceptible hum.

The lady stood still, her focus unwavering. Her hand instinctively brushed against her nape— there was a symbol etched on her skin, something she'd hidden and kept secret since her arrival in this world.

Unease clawed at her chest, but she didn't move.

She didn't blink.

"…It's too quiet," she murmured to herself, her voice barely audible against the rustling leaves.

The faint hum grew louder for a brief moment, then stopped altogether.