"Enough, Anna. You're embarrassing me," Master Sheffield snapped, losing patience.
Anna felt her father's genuine anger but couldn't stifle her laughter, bolting from the room. Her cackling echoed through the guild, the tavern, even the entire town—unapologetic, unrestrained.
Sheffield, a powerful mage and respected guild master, wore a helpless expression as he listened to his daughter's retreating laughter. He turned to Houshao'nao, awkward: "My apologies. Anna's been spoiled rotten since childhood. I… well, to be honest, your appearance *is* quite striking."
Houshao'nao's emotions churned. He'd secretly hoped to one day confront Anna, but that dream crumbled. Gritting his teeth, he yielded: "It's my fault, Master. It won't happen again."
Sheffield, who'd seen countless souls, was startled by the young man's humility. *Kerry mentioned this in his letter—such grace in one so young. Impressive,* he thought, nodding approvingly.
"Good. Your open-mindedness is rare. Work hard, and I'll reward you. Understood?"
Houshao'nao, surprised by the praise, vowed: "Thank you, Master. I'll serve diligently."
"Excellent. Take this letter to President Giles—hand it to him personally. It's crucial; I'd deliver it myself if I could," Sheffield said, serious now.
"Yes, Master. I'll ensure it reaches him," Houshao'nao replied, clasping the envelope solemnly.
"Here are three more—from the magic academy. Deliver them too. Ask for directions; one is Giles' son's acceptance letter," Sheffield added, handing over more letters.
"Anything else, Master?"
"Not now. Go and return quickly."
"Yes, Master." Houshao'nao bowed and retreated, clutching the letters. *Lost in Mecca Town with no contacts. Who to ask for directions?*
*Dier! She'll know,* he realized, hurrying to the tavern. But as he emerged, a familiar figure blocked his path.
"You… An… Miss Anna…" He froze, hatred mingling with terror at the girl who'd nearly burned him.
"Hmph, correct. What's Father sending you to do?" Anna demanded, eyes blazing.
"M-master wants me to d-deliver letters," he stammered, knees knocking.
"Letters? To whom? Let me see."
He clutched his chest. "No, they're important, I can't—"
"talk back? Want to die?" Anna conjured a flame, threatening.
*Fire again. Give in or risk the letters?* "F-fine," he sighed, pulling out the letters.
"Smart boy." Anna dismissed the fire, snatching the letters. s Jermyn's,Ken's… ugh, Giles' fool son's. Why does *he* get a letter?"
*How should I know? Ask your father!* he seethed inwardly, forcing a smile: "Miss, could I answer later? I'll ask the postman next time he comes."
Anna paused, then smirked: "Clever. Father sent you to deliver these? I'll come with you."
"W-with me?" he squeaked.
"What, you object?" Her gaze turned menacing.
He swallowed. "N-no, of course not, Miss."
"Good. Let's go." Her mood flipped instantly.
"Miss, I don't know the way. Could you lead?" he ventured, shrinking.
Anna's eyes lit up. "Sure—but not for free. Pay up."
"Pay?"
"Money, idiot!"
He clutched his coin purse, sweating. "Miss, I haven't been paid yet—"
"Lies! You have money. I need it urgently," she cooed, suddenly sweet.
Her sickly-sweet tone made his hair stand on end. *Blackmail. But if I refuse, she'll burn the letters…* Reluctantly, he pulled out a silver coin. "Only this, Miss…"
"Ugh, just one? Fine." She snatched it, stuffing it into her pocket.
Houshao'nao inwardly wept: *Three days' food gone.*
"Ready to leave, Miss?" he asked, pitiful.
"Leave? Where?"
He froze. *You forgot?* "To deliver the letters, Miss."
"Oh right! But I'm busy now. Dier! Guide this fool to deliver the letters," Anna ordered, spinning on her heel.
"Miss, return my coin—"
She caught him staring at her pocket, blushing furiously. "Pervert! Eyes off my chest! Keep your letters." She thrust the envelopes at him and fled.
Dier approached, hiding a smile. "She's gone, you know."
"Gone… my three days of food…" he moaned.
Dier giggled. "Don't bother her. I have some coins—want them for food?"
"No, thanks." He shook his head, defeated.
"Alright, let's deliver the letters then."
Nodding, he followed her out, mind stuck on the stolen silver. Dier led silently, but his distraction caused disaster—he collided with her, sending her staggering.
"Oof!" Dier gasped, flushed.
"S-sorry! I didn't mean—"
"It's… fine. This is Jermyn's house. Knock," she said, avoiding his gaze.
He rushed to the door, mortified—*Did I… touch her?*—and banged loudly.
"Who is it?" a voice called.
"Is Master Jermyn home? Master Sheffield sent me with a letter," he called, eyeing the luxurious door.