At that moment, Eleanor stood before him.
Her clothes had changed. The main dress was a dark, wool fabric with a wide skirt that fell in soft waves, highlighting her slim waist. The upper part of the dress secured her full bust, with no neckline that might expose her porcelain skin. The sleeves were long, fitted at the wrists, ending in a small, elegant white cuff. Over the dress, she still wore a white apron tied around her waist. The apron covered most of the front of the dress, but its shape still allowed a glimpse of her ample figure underneath.
She was completely covered.
'Now that is what a real maid looks like...' Reynard nodded internally.
These clothes created an image that he was very familiar with. Eleanor was like one of those classic maids you might find in a fantasy story mansion. The maid dress truly suited her and made Reynard feel that he was now, appropriately, in the correct world.
Although he questioned for a moment why these clothes existed here...
This style of garment, in his old world, originated from another century. There was a gap of hundreds of years between those two eras, and the fashion and tailoring techniques were radically different.
It was just a coincidence?
After all, this had become popular in fantasy stories, but that didn't mean no one would have thought of it before.
There weren't many paths when putting fabrics together.
Knowing where this style originated was the least of his worries. He could be considered strange for trying to find any logic in this already absurd enough situation.
'This can be considered poetic license...' And a part of him felt happy and comfortable looking at those familiar clothes.
"Did you like what you saw?" Noticing that Reynard seemed lost in thought while staring at her, Eleanor blushed slightly.
She still felt a little shy receiving his gaze.
Hearing her voice, Reynard snapped out of his daze and smiled. "Of course. You look beautiful."
Saying this, his gaze swept over her figure for another moment before he added: "You don't look very accustomed to these clothes. Do you think you can keep up with me?"
Eleanor let out a soft chuckle as she felt the subtle provocation in his tone, her gaze holding a light that was no less playful. "Don't worry."
Saying this, she softly flexed her knees, making the dress discreetly flutter around her legs. At the same time, she bowed her head forward in a delicate gesture, a few strands of hair falling gently to the side of her face.
"Master Reynard, your wish is my command... Like this?" Her voice came out low and reverent as she stared at him.
"Not bad, not bad at all!" Reynard clapped his hands, laughing loudly, his eyes shining with satisfaction at the sight. By her fluid actions and movements, he could tell she had practiced those moves several times in front of the mirror.
Eleanor truly didn't want to make him lose face and was putting in the effort.
He had arranged a good maid!
Now it was his turn.
He needed to show that he wasn't the only one making an effort...
Taking a breath, Reynard puffed out his chest and cleared his throat. His expression suddenly shifted to a more distant and clouded look, a crooked smile slowly emerging on his lips.
Perhaps it was the slight curve of his lips, the subtle inclination of his nose, or the way his gaze seemed to look down and judge every detail. Whatever the combination, it all made anyone looking at him feel a sudden urge to punch his face.
"Maid, we are leaving now! Prepare the things!"
Like a fork scratching a plate, his tone of voice echoed loudly, catching Eleanor off guard. She was surprised by the sudden change in his voice and, for an instant, thought he was a completely different person, but quickly understood what was happening when she noticed the amusement in his eyes.
"As you command." Nodding her head, she bowed slightly, the collar of her dress yielding just enough to reveal a glimpse of the smooth skin of her neck and collarbone, before turning and leaving the hall.
Watching her disappear from his sight with light steps, Reynard ran his hands through his hair, brushing it back with a smile.
He was merely imitating the mannerisms of the former owner.
It would be problematic if his personality changed suddenly because he ran the risk of encountering other people who knew the original owner of this body.
Of course, arousing suspicion wasn't a concern. After all, no one would consider the absurd hypothesis of Reynard having died and someone else taking his place as an impostor.
This was the real world.
It was just that it was convenient to maintain that attitude as a noble.
And a part of him wanted to play and test the waters outside.
It wasn't every day he had the chance to be a noble.
Meanwhile, Eleanor quickly returned, carrying a basket in her arms.
"Everything is prepared." Inside the basket she carried, it was possible to see some bread, cheese, and dried meat for the trip.
These foods were ready for immediate consumption that day.
Most of the important supplies had been packed and secured in the carriage by Eleanor in advance before leaving. It would be problematic to carry wooden boxes of food when the castle didn't have much labor to spare.
She had also taken care of their clothes, selecting, folding, and organizing them inside the carriage's trunk. Hygiene items like soap, combs, basins, and towels were prepared beforehand.
Eleanor had even prepared some needles and scraps of fabric for small repairs during the trip.
As the sole responsible party, her task was to ensure that everything was accessible when needed and safe during their journey.
She didn't want to make any crucial mistakes at this moment.
Especially since it was her first time accompanying him outside.
This left Reynard pleasantly surprised and satisfied.
He hadn't expected such good performance. If he hadn't known her past, he would have thought she came from a family of experienced servants in the trade.
She had truly thought of everything.
Without wasting any more time, they left the castle, finding a carriage pulled by two horses already stopped in front of the gate, waiting for them.
The carriage's appearance was simple, but robust.
It wasn't a luxury carriage used for parades, but the useful kind that was superior to the carts used by peasants. Constructed of dark brown wood, it was reinforced with iron at the joints and wheels, the surface containing some graining. The wooden window was open, thick red curtains swaying in the wind.
It was a luxury to travel with something fragile like glass in a travel carriage, especially considering his status.
In front of the carriage was the elevated seat where the coachman controlled the horses.
An old man was already seated there, waiting for them.
No roof could be seen, leaving him exposed to the elements like sun and rain, making Reynard wonder if that was really smart.
If it rained, he wouldn't be able to continue the trip.
Not to mention the risk of sunstroke.
It was truly problematic.
Returning to his thoughts, he found two draft horses pulling the carriage. Their appearance was a common brown, but well-cared for, using resistant leather harnesses and iron buckles. One of the horses neighed, stamping its hoof against the ground and flicking its tail, a bit of dust rising in the process.
'Reliable and functional...' He extended his hand, casually stroking the horse's mane, the latter letting out a faint, low whinny in response to the touch, nudging its head towards Reynard.
They were docile and perfect for a journey of a few days like his.
Although he thought the original Reynard would have traded the horses for a purebred one at the first opportunity...
"Mommy, Mister Reynard, take care and come back soon! I will take good care of the castle!" A voice suddenly echoed from the gate. Lydia was there, jumping and waving at them animatedly with a flushed face.
Her figure remained as refreshing as a summer breeze.
When she discovered she would be left alone to care for the castle, Lydia panicked. She was feeling a mixture of emotions. Sadness at being left behind, and insecurity about having to care for and spend her days alone in this castle.
But after Reynard spoke with her, she felt convinced and was now like a child who had received an important mission. Her eyes shone with a fire of motivation, not wanting to disappoint him.
Reynard waved at her before looking at the old man seated in the coachman's seat.
"Old Henry." He greeted casually. The old man's features were dark and worn by years of service, his hair gray and thin. Some wrinkles and spots caused by sun exposure made him look older than he really was.
But something interesting about this old man was that he was the only survivor of the castle.
The only one who didn't die that night.
'Some people truly were blessed by fate...' Reynard sighed internally at the thought.
Since his job involved caring for the stables and horses, as well as cleaning the carriage and helping with small repairs and other minor issues, there was no need for him to live in the castle.
After all, he was already an old man with a wife and children, so Old Henry continued living with his own family. When Reynard required his services, he summoned this versatile servant.
And that allowed the old man to escape his fate.
If he knew how lucky he really was, perhaps he wouldn't be able to sleep anymore...
"Good day, young lord!" Old Henry quickly returned Reynard's greeting, the wrinkles on his face visible as he forced an ugly smile, showing some of his yellowed teeth.
Despite his friendly and relaxed appearance on the outside, Old Henry had turbulent thoughts inside.
He hadn't been able to sleep well for the last month.
All his colleagues had disappeared from the castle, and he didn't know what had happened to them.
Or, at least, he suspected.
Old Henry swallowed hard as he cast a discreet glance at Reynard, but quickly looked away and lowered his head when he noticed Reynard was staring back.
It was better to keep his head low.
His family depended on him, so despite finding the disappearance of the castle servants very suspicious, Old Henry continued acting normally as if nothing had happened.
Reynard didn't bother to chat with him. After casting a look at Lydia, who was still animated at the gate, he opened the carriage door and stepped onto the step. The wood creaked as it resisted under his weight while he climbed in.
Eleanor quickly followed him after casting a final look at Lydia, her fingers clutching the hem of her clothes. The shine in her eyes was more of concern than anxiety. She knew Lydia would be safe here; however, deep down, she still couldn't help but worry and longed to return soon from this trip.
After they entered the carriage, Old Henry wasted no more time and, with a light click of his tongue, his thin, wrinkled hands pulled the reins. The horses responded with a contained whinny before beginning to move, their hooves striking the ground in a rhythmic cadence.
"Have a good trip!" Lydia's shout echoed one last time from the gate, waving at them as the carriage pulled away, gaining speed.
"Are you prepared to spend two days traveling with me?" Inside the carriage, away from curious eyes, Reynard was settled in the leather seat, not at all bothered by the gentle rocking.
"Two whole days? What will we do in that time?" Eleanor asked innocently by reflex.
"Well, I'm sure we can find... ways to pass the time."
Reynard let out a laugh, beckoning Eleanor to come closer.
...
In a forest somewhere.
The clash of swords could be heard in the distance. The metallic sound was loud as thunder, making the listeners' ears ring.
A figure was thrown by the force of the sword, unable to resist the blows. With every breath, the body fell backward as if in a free fall.
The noise of a tree splitting echoed, like the sound of a giant bone shattering. Birds abandoned their nests in nearby trees and flew away desperately without knowing what was happening.
To them, it seemed like the end of the world.
A large group of colorful-feathered birds flew away, painting the sky with varied colors, the sound of their beating wings muffled only by the sound of the destruction of wood and the aggressive snaps.
When that body finally stopped falling backward upon hitting a final tree, its trunk so thick that it would take several people to embrace it, the forest fell silent.
No metallic sound.
Only heavy breathing.
When things finally calmed down, the figure that was thrown became visible.
It was a woman.
Despite her disheveled state, her chest rose and fell in a rhythmic cadence, indicating that she was still breathing. Her black hair was a mess of strands stuck to her forehead due to the blood.
And none of this was enough to extinguish the light in her eyes, which were as firm as steel.
Which was surprising.
An ordinary human would have already died from the first impact, but there she was, whole. In her hands, a sword could be seen, though the blade already contained numerous cracks like spiderwebs.
If blown upon, it would surely disintegrate with the wind.
"You shouldn't try to ambush people if you don't have enough strength." In the silence of the forest, that voice seemed abnormally loud. Its tone was soft, yet firm and restrained.
Looking in that direction, a figure walked with slow steps between destroyed trees.
Her face was delicate, with golden hair, long lashes of the same color, and blue eyes that seemed to carry the sky. She was wearing silver armor and, under the sun, she seemed to be...
Shining.
***
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