"…huh?"

In that instant, Astoria's rigid expression and the divine image Tristessa had of her melted before pure vulgarity.

She had a smile that couldn't control laughter, drool escaping from the corners of her lips, and eyes that could barely stay open.

"What the hell?!" Tristessa screamed inside her head, more than surprised. She had expected a certain level of intoxication after hearing those rumors passed from mouth to mouth, but that woman was very close to fainting after a bottle and a half of beer.

"Heh...heh, that old pervert hires such young girls now? Hic, shit, I was hoping to get lucky and have Brünnhilde all to myself... But well, rather than having nothing and being alone all damn night, I can't complain. Come here, hic!"

Astoria Silverthorn extended her plate-gloved hand toward her, inviting her to sit...on her lap.

"B-but I...!" the girl tried to say, blushing with the intensity of an out-of-control fire.

"Come on, come on, don't be shy. I don't bite...yet."

Tristessa gulped and looked around, meeting the mocking glances of the customers and the whispers that were beginning to circulate. Long gone was that knightess from the south gate who had been a bastion of decorum and circumspection: now she was a woman freed from all limits, free of responsibilities and wanting to have a good time.

"Oh, what the hell… I can't waste time!"

She took that hand, warm and with strong fingers, which drew her to its owner a little roughly, so that the blonde knightess could place a wet kiss on her knuckles. With her ears and cheeks burning, Tristessa gathered the lower part of her dress and sat on top of Astoria's legs, feeling a little discomfort because of the metal plates protecting her thighs.

"By Xiliarra's tits, now that I see you closer, you are very pretty," the knightess whispered, putting her arm behind her to place her hand on her waist. Pleasurable shivers ran down Tristessa's spine, and her heart didn't seem to slow down in that position with that woman's face so close. "Pretty and quite strong in spiritual scent… Your Discord is overwhelming."

"I-I hope that's not an inconvenience…," the black-haired girl managed to murmur with a tiny voice.

"Hell no! I like my girls with a little spice!"

Astoria was truly charmed by her, making Tristessa even unable to hide a little grin.

"Ha, I saw that smile! Damn… The old man struck gold with you. It's obvious you take great care of your appearance," she said, with such a lovely grin that Tristessa's heart could barely hold such a high degree of excitement. "Your hair, more than anything. So soft and silky."

Having placed the bottle on the table, Astoria took a strand of black hair, her fingertips—the only part free of armored protection—stroking it.

"Knightess Silverthorn…!" she tried to say, so hot and excited that she feared she might faint right there.

"Call me Astoria, kitten. You don't mind me calling you that, do you? You're so cute, I'd like to devour you in one bite." The alcohol level in Astoria's blood released all restraint; perhaps that kind of attitude had earned her a slap or two from the hostesses. "What's your name?"

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"T-Tristessa."

"Pretty, like you. Would you like something to drink? That beer is awful, but it'll do wonders to ease your nerves," she suggested. "As a newcomer, it must be very difficult for you. You know, needing to suffer me, in particular."

"N-no, not at all…" Tristessa stepped out of character, staring into her eyes as her thumbs played with each other on her thighs. "I came straight to you. I've heard so many good things about you, Knightess… I mean, Astoria."

"Ha! Good things?" Amidst her aura of drunkenness, Astoria laughed with sarcasm. "You don't have to lie to me like that; I'll pay you anyway for keeping me company."

"No, I wouldn't reciprocate. I'm not a hostess."

"Huh? Is this some kind of game? I'm not getting the joke."

"I'm serious. I don't work here. I came here entirely on my own."

The insistence caused an absolute storm of confusion in the woman, whose alcohol was working against her.

"I don't understand..."

"I'm sorry. And excuse my boldness..." Tristessa sighed to get rid of some of that nervousness that was eating her heart away. "I needed to talk to you."

Even with the gazes of those present on them, as if they were an impossible-to-believe spectacle taking place, Tristessa couldn't back down now.

"I need your help."

Astoria narrowed her eyes, so confused that thinking about it made her head hurt. She groped almost blind for the beer bottle and took a generous gulp, followed by a hiccup that covered Tristessa's face with the repugnant smell of what she had drunk.

"Come on, don't play with me like that. Lying to me only damages my fragile heart, kitten..." A veil of sadness and depression covered the downcast Astoria, her emotions amplified to the point where she seemed on the verge of tears. "Why would you want my help?"

"There are people I care about who are in danger," she replied. "If we don't do something, they'll be dead the day after tomorrow."

The knightess did not expect to hear such a thing, that was obvious. Her red eyes opened in bewilderment and overcoming part of her drunkenness.

"What the hell…? And why me? Go ask the authorities for help, report the possible attack." Astoria took another sip of beer, her frustration evident. "I can't help you."

"Of course you can. You're the only one who can. No one but you."

The knightess slammed the bottle down on the table, with such force that it almost shattered into thousands of glass fragments.

"Are you asking the Blackguard for help? A Silverthorn? The descendant of the evil [Valthiel Silverthorn]? The descendant of the [Valkyrie of Darkness]?"

All that negativity Astoria emanated transmuted into anger. Her voice once again expressed that indifferent coldness Tristessa had known the day before.

The freezing countenance of someone that slayed a group of dangerous bandits as if nothing.

"Are you asking for help from the unwanted Astoria Silverthorn, whom everyone hopes will one day drop dead, and free them from having to deal with her presence? Is that who you seek, hostess Tristessa?" the knightess asked, clearly trying to intimidate her with those red eyes so powerful that even Tiara's, in the midst of their torture session back in the non-existent past, were insignificant.

Perhaps days ago, after dying multiple times and with no clear objective in her troubled mind, Tristessa wouldn't have hesitated to get up and run away, fearing for her life. Perhaps if she hadn't seen with her own eyes what Astoria Silverthorn was capable of, and heard Severus's testimony, she would have accepted what people were saying about her.

That it was better not to interact with her. That she meant trouble. That her family was dangerous.

But not that upcoming evening. Not when the lives of the Mercer-Archeos were at risk. Not when the Dullahan was closing in to kill her and anyone else who dared to get in her way.

"What the…?!"

Tristessa took Astoria Silverthorn completely by surprise: she placed both hands on her cheeks and, without taking her eyes off those filled with deep anger, placed a kiss on her right cheek, very close to the corner of her lips.

Thus, leaving the knightess of silver-colored hair speechless.

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