Chapter 182: Ch. 181: Aria the Comedian

The crack of a wood and iron wheel against cobblestone sounds more normal to my ears than rubber car tires on asphalt concrete. Today I sit alone in the carriage; Nina has been relegated to clinging onto the narrow outdoor platform on the outside of the carriage, which I've heard is rather uncomfortable when you are in a skirt as opposed to the practical pants the footmen wear. I see very little point in paying attention to Nina's comforts when she would so quickly entreat the very person she swore she never would.

Besides, she would just spend the entirety of the carriage ride staring at my face in an attempt to discern my thoughts somehow. Her curiosity today when I told her to dress me for a sudden outing to the Grand Temple was palpable, hanging in the air like a thick fog. But it is quite warranted. For the first time, I have not been hailed by the Holy Church.