The events of my day out with my mother were still fresh in my mind. It had been a few days since then, a week at most. I had become so engrossed in my new hobby as I felt it was my way of reconnecting with my old self—something that I still wasn’t ready to get over.

Death had dysenthisized me of many things. Something, for the first time, finally felt real.

My materials were insufficient, even so. I needed a weighing scale to determine how much oil I was using to make the mixtures more accurate. So far, I was getting by with the dropper.

I found it hard to retrace the same methods I had been taught before. This place, being another world, possessed a different methodology. Referring to the book I was given by the shop owner made that clear. I didn’t know whether to follow what I was taught in the past or refer to the standards of my current world.

“Ah…” I muttered, feeling a bit discouraged. There were moments when I questioned my decision with the oils. I was not talented in mixing scents like my previous life’s mother have been. She taught me things, and I had helped her out a couple of times. I did not, however, dedicate a lot of my time to it. Not to mention things were not the same in this world.

Good grace, who was I even kidding? Why was I even doing this in the first place?

I patted my cheeks, trying to knock some sense into myself. “It’s always hard at first.”

I picked up the dropper and shoved away the temptation of giving up. Sometimes, I wondered why I was making myself suffer this way. Then again, no reward came without suffering.

I carefully poured small drops of the rose oil into the porcelain bowl. In my head, I counted, “One, two, three—”

Swift, gentle knocks resounded on my door. Startled, I squeezed a little too firmly. A good few drops streamed into the bowl.

I gasped. “No.”

After the moment of horror passed, disappointment and weariness took the stage. I sighed, a little disgruntled from being disturbed.

Broken from my concentration, I straightened my back and set down the dropper.

“What is it?” I asked towards the door.

It slid open and my Mistress Veronika looked inside. “Evyionne,” she said.

“Mistress.” I stood.

“Dragon’s mercy…this place reeks!” She reached up to pinch her nose closed, fanning out the air in front of her—as though that would really make a difference. “Open the windows!”

“They already are!” I said, pointing to my only pair of windows in the room.

“Come on out, Evyionne, and leave the doors open. We need to air out this place. What are you even doing in here?” Veronika’s voice had turned nasal, making her look a lot less intimidating.

“But I’m not finished…” I whispered in protest.

“It doesn’t matter. Clean up and proceed to the garden with me. I have much to show you.”

I scratched my head. Mistress Veronika showing me something?

I had learned long before that Mistress Veronika was talented for…violent things. And when I say violent things, I meant that she knew how to wield blades. She had a knack for all things sharp. In fact, she was assigned to do most of the slicing and dicing in the kitchen. I had regularly received the tutelage of the other mistresses, but Mistress Lamia and Mistress Veronika had not taught me anything from the crafts they specialized in.

“And change your clothes.” Her voice sharply cut through my reverie, pulling me out of another stupor I had fallen into. “Something more comfortable. And that you can move in.”

Ooh. This wasn’t looking good. If I was anything, I was lazy. I could sit on my ass all day—and I would if it weren’t for the fact that I had to go to the bathroom occasionally. I definitely would not even think about exercising.

“Evyionne.”

I jumped. Seeing Mistress Veronika’s pointed look, I quickly moved, running into my closet and pulling out some loose clothes I could wear.

I pulled on some pants and a soft and comfortable tunic.

“Evyionne, what’s the holdup?” Veronika hollered.

“I’m coming!”

I put away my tools for the perfumery. After making sure the plugs on my bottles were all in place, I ran out of my room towards the garden. My mother Hellenia caught me running across the halls. She gave a warm smile just as I was passing and bent down to grab me into her arms and pull me in for a kiss.

“Come here, my Evy.”

I giggled. “Mama, Mistress Veronika is going to kill me.”

“She dares!”

I laughed and planted a kiss on her cheek. “I’m going. I’m going.”

I quickly squirmed out of my mother’s embrace and continued running until, finally, I came to the garden. I sank on the porch stairs to change shoes, leaving my indoor ones on the corner by the column and taking the ones for the outdoors. Mistress Veronika was tapping her foot, watching me. And while she didn’t look impressed, she had a quirked brow that told me she was amused.

“I’m sorry, mistress…” I stumbled down the stairs, breathing shallowly as I walked up to her.

“Stand right there, Evyionne,” she said, pointing to the spot in front of her.

I stood still and straight like steel, mustering the most serious look on my face as I looked at her.

To my surprise, she burst out laughing. “Evy, darling, why in the world do you look so serious?” She stepped forward and knelt before me with a bemused smile. Mistress Veronika patted my head, midnight blue eyes shining with glee. “The other mistresses and I talked. It’s about time you began learning things much more seriously. Specifically, find out more about what you can do.”

I stuck out my lower lip, a little bummed. I was more disappointed over my loss of free time, as the mistresses were starting to reinforce my education even more. I suppose I was in that age that I had to go to school. Life had been blissful so far, but I knew I had to start waking up—otherwise, with the matter concerning Amber, I wouldn’t fare well if I wasn’t equipped with enough knowledge and skills.

“Evy,” she began, brushing back strands of her hair as she took both my shoulders and stared into my eyes, “you are about to grow up in a much too complicated world. We want you to be ready for it, alright?”

“I know that,” I said, nodding resolutely. “I promise to try my best! What are you going to teach me today?”

“Mm. Good. My area of expertise isn’t always needed in the House of Oblivion. But, today, I think I’ll be able to pass some of what I know down to you.”

I wasn’t very enthusiastic about this, but I couldn’t help but feel excited about what I was about to learn. I took summer classes in martial arts in my past life—just so that I knew how to defend myself. That was only one summer though, and I learned how to kick someone properly. Nothing more than that, unfortunately.