As he savored his meal, he observed the girl across from him. She seemed to be struggling to use all her utensils, as if trying to imitate his movements. Unfortunately for her, it was quite a mess; well, that could also be a form of enjoyment. He couldn't criticize her for making an effort to do things she wasn't accustomed to. In fact, he didn't mind the whole display of pomp at all, even though he was used to dining this way.
He adjusted his eating pace to match what he imagined would be her time to finish the meal, even though he hadn't said a word to the young woman, which clearly seemed to bother her. She stole glances at him while eating, but avoided looking directly at him.
Her posture was closed off, yet she was clearly enjoying her meal, having gone back for seconds three times. This made him ponder a rather mundane question: 'Why do people feel so embarrassed or inadequate during silence? Why do they think it's wrong?' Although that feeling was now a distant memory, his current emotions were untroubled by it.
At some point, noticing that she would soon finish her meal, he took a goblet of wine and downed it in one gulp. He then picked up one of the silk napkins and gently wiped his mouth. He was done.
He noticed she had finished as well. Small details, like her leaning back in her chair, completely setting down her utensils, and her facial expressions, clearly indicated to him that she was done and waiting to see what he would do next, which was understandable given his position.
A purple gleam lit up his eyes as he gently raised his palm, pushing it forward. This made the napkin holder float and glide toward the girl, settling at the corner of the table. He heard her say in a muffled voice, "Th...thank you, sir."
Seeing the enormous amount of leftover food from the banquet, it would be a waste to let it go to waste. He summoned small stones to the table, transmuting them into aluminum containers. With a gesture of his hand, the remaining food was divided and packed into one hundred and twenty-three large takeout containers, while purple, ghostly butterflies appeared to carry the packages away.
"Sir," she timidly interrupted him as he gestured for her to continue. With eyes that seemed to plead, she said, "What are you going to do with that food?"
He replied without looking at her, focused on the containers: "I'll distribute it to the needy or to street children, whoever I find first. Why?"
Her face flushed red, and she quietly asked, "I... I thought that, if it wasn't... I don't know if it's appropriate, but Your Excellency... Jhonatan wouldn't have anything to eat today." She nervously laughed, unsure how to ask. "I'm really worried about him."
"Understood. Jhonatan will have his meal," he replied over his shoulder as he summoned his demonic energy, although he could sense the girl's emotions behind him.
Feeling even more embarrassed about her situation, she hurried to say, "Please forgive me, sir!"
He responded, maintaining a friendly tone from a distance, "It's alright."
Her eyes shone even brighter as the butterflies took flight. The purple creatures, with semi-transparent silk wings, offered a supernatural, ethereal sight. As they touched the containers, they vanished, carrying them to their destinations, including Jhonatan's place in the old alley. Only the impeccably clean table remained, accompanied by a stray bundle of silk napkins.
He walked to a seat closer to her and focused his full attention on her. Although his eyes remained cold beneath the mask of a handsome face, he asked, "Could you tell me how things went so wrong for you?"
She lowered her head slightly, avoiding his gaze, and gathered her strength to speak, trying to contain her sorrow. "After that day, Jhonatan was assessed by the doctors. They ran many tests and extended his hospital stay. This continued until all the doctors inexplicably lost interest in him, and all the expenses that had previously been agreed to be covered by the hospital were canceled, and we were charged the full amount: £52,000. We had to sell everything we owned, even the money for our house. But that wasn't all; things got much worse."
"We rented a place to stay in the alleys, and Jhonatan, who had never drunk before, started spending his days in bars and gambling. Soon after, we had nothing left." She sighed as tears streamed down her blue, now red-rimmed eyes. She then murmured, "We didn't even have our wedding night... that part of him was gone."
Seeing her despair, he reached out and held her hand firmly. At this, Helena could no longer contain her anguish and began to cry. He said nothing, nor did he take any further action; he simply held her hand in silence, allowing her to cry for as long as she needed.
When she finished venting her emotions, he took one of the silk handkerchiefs and placed it in her hand as he pulled away. She wiped her face and took a deep breath.
"What will happen to me, sir?"
He reflected on what he was going to say and replied bluntly, "You don't need to refer to me so formally; I don't care about such things."
"As for what will happen to you… Well, the terms of our agreement were to save Jhonatan's life in exchange for yours. And as I said before, my agreements are not deceptive. Jhonatan will live a life as long as the one you were supposed to have, around seventy years. As for the quality of that life, that doesn't concern me, as I don't intervene beyond what was agreed upon. And as a result of our agreement, your life belongs to me." He paused to let her absorb what had been said and continued, "Although I'm not going to take your life or claim your soul as you have imagined. In fact, the agreement doesn't say anything about souls. For now, I want you to be the manager of my apothecary. You will serve the customers I send you and guide them to make demonic contracts."
"Do you have any questions?"
She then looked at him and asked the one thing she truly wanted to know: "While I work here, will I still be able to live with Jhonatan?"
"No, the apothecary requires full dedication." He replied in an indifferent tone, asserting categorically, "Your life with Jhonatan no longer exists. You and him now belong to different worlds. And your new kind of life may bring magical problems for him, something he cannot handle."
"But, sir…" She closed her eyes as she complained, but in the end, she nodded. "Alright."
"Perhaps you could get some level of help for him, indirectly," he let slip, concluding, "But I won't promise anything."
He continued, "Now I'd like to give you a tour of the Apothecary. Let's start with the shop."
Both men and women shared steps on the common white marble floor of the entire place, contrasting with the light orange, warm, and inviting walls, adorned with symmetrical geometric patterns. The floor was so well-polished that it reflected their images. Upon entering the shop, they were greeted by a set of chandeliers that lit up automatically, illuminating the entire space.
Pointing to the wall where a butterfly sat inside a perfect triangle. "This is my crest, also my mark that is closely tied to me. Yes, the same tattoo you have on your wrist; this has great meaning for me. I would tolerate being insulted, but I would not tolerate anyone offending this symbol."
He walked over to one of the shelves, retrieving a brown potion, bottled in a delicate triangular crystal vial, along with another dark green one contained in a cylindrical glass bottle. He handed them to the girl: "Before we begin, you must take these two potions. One to recover your body from malnutrition and the other to heal your body."
She opened the first container, swallowing it in one go, internally grateful for it. The taste was bitter, reminiscent of roots from the earth, and she would have likely spat it out if she hadn't swallowed it all at once.
For the first time that night, he smiled at the young woman's grimace as she took the potion. "The next one is easier to swallow, I promise," he said.
She looked at him suspiciously. The green vial, luminescent and slimy, didn't exactly look appetizing. She mustered the courage to say, "Sir, I highly doubt it."
But surprisingly, it wasn't exactly bad; it tasted like a strong alcoholic drink with lemon. Although she still grimaced, she said, "It's not so bad."
The effects of the potion were evident: her extremely emaciated face began to regain flesh, and the same happened with the rest of her body. Spots, wounds, scars, and even bodily ailments were all being healed. Common magical potions had a surprising effect in terms of health or ailments of a non-magical nature. He observed her changes and was continually surprised every time he assessed these results, even though she felt very tired from it all.
As she was recovering, he took a small book and brought it to her hand, saying, "Helena, this is the catalog of everything that the options here are capable of doing, from basic potions for boils to complex potions like Felix Felicis, which can even alter someone's luck, though not without costs. You must understand all the effects and nuances of these potions; some may be a bit dangerous. But don't worry about that, as I will teach you properly later."
"Are you alright?" he asked, noticing she was very quiet and distant.
She turned to him and replied, "I'm feeling very tired."
"Ah, it must be an effect of the potions; don't worry, it will pass quickly. I think it would be appropriate to take you to the place that will be your room!"
They crossed the rooms of the house while she struggled to keep up with him, who, unfortunately for her, did not slow down at all. Until they reached a closed room, he took out a key and handed it to her. "This will be your room; I took the liberty of decorating it. If you don't like something or want something specific, let me know tomorrow. Have a good night, Miss Helena."
"Good night, Sir."
As she entered, the first thing she noticed was the size, a little over fifteen square meters, larger than the place she lived in the alley. There was a large bed in one corner, decorated with sheets in a light salmon tone. The walls were light orange and shared the same eccentric patterns throughout the house. The room was illuminated by wall-mounted lanterns, with a large shuttered window, a nightstand, and, in addition, a chic wooden wardrobe, bigger than anything she had ever seen. Inside, there were clothes that seemed suitable for her size, though she would need to try them on to be sure. All the dresses were very traditional, although they seemed to flatter her curves, a mix of boldness and classicism. She couldn't lie that she was curious about how she would look in those dresses, but that was for another day.
She let herself fall lightly onto the bed, being embraced by the soft mattress. "My God, how can there be such an amazing mattress like this? Jhonatan would have liked it."
Finally, she closed her eyes and began to think about everything that had happened that day, that feeling that seemed too unreal to be false. Fortunately, she soon fell asleep.
.