The large glass doors suddenly closed behind the girl. Startled, she turned back. Just when she did, something forcefully grabbed the back of her neck.
"Ngh!?"
Rinne unwillingly let out a loud, pained noise as she struggled helplessly. Her feet then rose from the ground. She kicked wildly, hoping to kick whoever it was that had grabbed her by the back of the neck. But it was in vain; the grip only tightened.
Why her?
Why did she always get dealt the short end of the stick?
Rinne bit her lip. She had made it this far; she was not about to give up. She moved her hands to her neck and used all the strength she could muster to pry off the fingers that clamped tightly around her neck.
"Seriously, what the hell are you doing?" A voice rang out from behind. "You might be her child, but you rely too much on dumb luck. In what world would you be able to pry yourself free of a vice grip like this?"
The hand that held Rinne in the air suddenly loosened, and she fell promptly onto her butt.
"Like mother, like daughter, I suppose." The voice let out a sigh as the echoing sounds of heels filled the dark air. Each step sped up the beating of Rinne's heart.
Then there was a faint clicking noise. As if she were on a stage, the lights on the ceiling lit up, one by one, stopping on the last row of lights.
"Boo!" The last light turned on, and Rinne was met by a woman dressed in a sheer purple dress. She had brown hair loosely tied in a braid that rested on her ample chest. The woman looked to be in her mid-thirties with slight wrinkles that covered her face. Purple eyes stared at Rinne with a dominating look, as if she were prey that had wandered into a predator's den.
Rinne could not help but feel that was the case.
"Oh my, feels like I opened a time capsule filled with photos," the woman said, a warm smile spreading across her face. "What's with that look, girly? Making a face like that is only gonna make you age faster, you know. You're too cute for that."
Rinne stood up and slowly stepped backwards until she could feel her back press against the glass door. As she thought, the door was not automatic, nor was there a handle to open it. Maybe she could break it?
She looked around the building she found herself in while the woman stood there with an amused look on her face. Food, weapons, clothes, weird trinkets—was this a store of some kind? If so, then that woman, was she the owner?
"Hmm?" The woman made a noise when Rinne locked eyes with her. "Your thoughts are correct, girly. I am the owner of this store. Margaret is my name, and I consider myself a close confidant to that man you started living with."
Rinne could not feel any hostility in the woman's expression, but she felt somewhat violated at being read so easily. Adding to that was the fact that this woman had been the one who casually lifted her into the air by the back of her neck.
Margaret dismissively waved her hand with a somewhat amused look. "You act like I'm gonna grab you again."
"How can I trust you won't?" Rinne said. She took a careful look at Margaret's arms. They weren't thick like she had imagined. They were slender, pale, and smooth. There was no way that those arms could have lifted her.
"Wanna find out?" Once again, as if reading her thoughts, the woman chuckled as she moved forward.
Rinne tried to flee, but her legs failed to move. How was this woman scarier than a drunk man holding a gun to her?
Margaret stopped in front of Rinne and put out her hands. Rinne flinched as her fingers moved around her body. They traced a particular path—around the wounds she had obtained before coming here. She felt pressure being placed on the deepest parts of the wounds, causing her to wince in pain.
"He did well to patch you up." She said in a low tone that was almost a mumble. "You should learn to express your pain." Margaret smiled at Rinne as she stepped away. "You don't need to hide these things. If you told him, he could have bandaged your more sensitive wounds better."
The way she spoke regarding him—Golden Steam—Rinne assumed, was with a look of genuine concern. Maybe she could give her information about him.
"You said you were a 'close confidant,' why use that to describe your relationship? You make it seem like there's more to it than what meets the eye." Rinne spoke, looking her in the eyes.
Margaret blanked once with surprise before puffing out her chest and making a sound of approval. Rinne could not help but avert her eyes at the woman's prideful flaunting. "That's because there is. And your picking up on that is proof that the legendary blood flows through your veins."
"Legendary blood?" Did the woman truly think that she was that young? Who in their right mind would believe in just an outlandish myth of legendary blood? What's next? She's gonna tell her that strange creatures that lurk in the shadows exist?
"You've got much to learn." Margaret sighed in disappointment. "Though I can't blame you. You came from the Upper Core, so you never had to deal with those problems yet."
"Can you not read my mind?" Rinne shouted, somewhat embarrassed. She took pride in her ability to put on airs around others to mask her feelings, but this woman could see through both her emotions and thoughts.
Then again, so did that man.