[Western Fantasy] The black-skinned elf also wants to hug the rich woman’s lap today

"I heard that our new city lord will hold a dance at the end of this month. As a result, there have been a large number of orders for 'Never-Drying Velvet Flowers'. I guess florists all over the city are taking the time to bandage them."

The old lady who owned the shop explained, while bending down to pick through a large pile of flowers. The plants are placed quietly in glass bottles on wooden stands, raising their heads delicately and showcasing their elegant and slender shapes.

"Gardenia seems to be a little too fragrant."

"Lily petals are too fragile and fall off easily."

"Then let's have this." She held out a small white porcelain can. A large bunch of lily of the valley is contained in it. The thick leaves have smooth lines, half covering the flowers. The flowers hang in bunches on delicate stems, like light and agile bells, small and cute.

It's really cute. Through the mask, O'Brien's green eyes stared at it unblinkingly. Although he is a poor man, his poor living conditions cannot deprive him of his ability to appreciate beauty. Vibrant green plants naturally have an unparalleled attraction to elves.

"Not bad. Lady's lily of the valley means 'happy return'." The old lady looked at the elf admiring the bouquet blankly, squinted her eyes and smiled gently, skillfully selected a few blooming more enthusiastically, and selected Lace ties are wrapped around emerald green stems to create a bouquet.

"Young man, I also wish you happiness."

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But at least now, O'Brien doesn't feel happy at all.

But when he prepared himself mentally countless times and knocked on Sylvia's door but received no response, he was unlucky to find that the pastor seemed to have gone out again.

amazing. The elf couldn't help but think bitterly. God seemed to be against him. Whenever he wanted to get in front of the kind-hearted rich woman with bad intentions, it seemed that even fate could not stand his evil deeds and helped push the girl away from him. Stay far away.

But he doesn't care. No matter how fate plays tricks on him, the priest can escape but the monk cannot escape the temple.

O'Brien didn't want to be rejected anymore, so he went back to his room to get a dictionary and a magazine, and then carefully held the bouquet in his arms. He sat cross-legged in front of Sylvia's room, leaning against the door panel, waiting quietly for her. Return.

At this time, Sylvia was standing in front of a magic material store. The uncle of the store next to him saw the pastor standing in front of the store looking like he was at a loss, and couldn't help but remind her that the owner of this store had just closed the store and returned to his hometown a few days ago.

"After all, that old man is a devout believer, and the current city lord is... I guess he will go back to his hometown to continue opening a shop, and take care of himself in the empire." The uncle touched his smooth head and kept sneaking sidelong glances at the blind man. Eyed girl.

"Two days ago..." Sylvia counted the time in her mind. This shop has been open in Gabu City for nearly a hundred years. On the surface, it is a magic material store, selling materials related to light magic circles. In fact, it is a dark spot of the Holy See in Gabu City, used for Gabu. Pastors in the city provide, share and pass on information.

Two days ago, news of the arrival of the dragon should have reached Gabu City. Is it because the situation is so serious that the person in charge needs to report back to the Central Holy See, or is it because...

Sylvia lowered her eyes, remembering the seed embedded in the flesh, but then she smiled politely and expressed her gratitude to the uncle who provided the information.

The purpose of this trip was not achieved, and the pastor walked steadily on the wide main street of Gabu City. Step by step, each step was taken cautiously and steadily, almost walking slowly close to the ground. This is her habitual way of walking. Although she has the assistance of vision brought by elemental affinity, her natural lack of awareness of space still makes it difficult for her to maintain balance when she is not concentrating, so she never runs or jumps. Her light activity pattern is incompatible with her Never mind, she must know exactly where she will end up every step of the way.

The long staff touched the ground slightly, and the precious white crystal stone collided with the ground unceremoniously, helping her judge the condition of the road.

But suddenly, she stopped.

This is a very strange feeling. It was so strange that she couldn't use the limited verbal expressions to describe her feelings at this time. Just like in the originally flat visual space, a certain circle suddenly received some kind of stimulation, swelled up, and turned into a sphere. She had never seen this phenomenon, nor had she seen a description of this image in ancient scrolls. She could only vaguely judge from the outline of this shape that the source of the abnormality was standing on her left. in the alley.

That's not the only weird thing. Sylvia unconsciously clenched the staff in her hand, one finger after another, and even her thumb was tightly clasped on the staff. The strangest thing was her, or rather how she felt. She was obviously injured while walking on the main street, but at some point the noisy shouts and laughter on the street were like noise from the other side, gradually disappearing in her ears. She could feel that the pedestrians and vendors still existed in this space, but all her senses were attracted by this "sphere".

What should she be feeling? According to rational judgment, she should be nervous, cautious, and fearful, but in fact she has none of these. Out of nowhere, her sensibility took over, and she actually felt a strange sense of closeness. But her rational mind screamed in her brain that she hated this feeling.

Just like that, she looked at the entrance of the alley half awake and half intoxicated.

The "Sphere" stepped out.

"Hello, Sylvia." It was the voice of a young man. His voice had not lost its youthfulness, but his tone was almost calm, and there seemed to be no waves.

He didn't introduce himself, maybe because he thought this was a boring and irrelevant link, so he started asking questions directly, looking arrogant and arrogant.

"Are you happy, Sylvia?"

It's really strange, extremely strange. As if she was bewitched, she "looked" at the void with unblinking eyes. Her mind was completely empty, and even her only sense was swallowed up by a huge emotion.

"I'm very satisfied." She heard her answer, her voice seemed to come from far away.

She felt that the young man seemed to shake his head, feeling dissatisfied with her inconsideration.

"Are you sad, Sylvia?" He then continued to ask aggressively.

The answer to this question is not difficult.

"It's a feeling I'm still learning."

The boy took a few steps closer, and Sylvia could feel that he was standing in front of her, and they could almost touch each other.

"Last question." The young man's voice softened, which made his voice mixed with an almost indistinguishable tremor if you listened carefully, but his question was still so short and sharp, like ice crystals hanging on the rime in winter. .

"Are you happy, Sylvia?"

The young man was almost whispering, and she couldn't distinguish the complicated emotions in his words, which were like thick fog.

But she had a gut feeling that was completely unfounded. She could feel that what he was looking at was not "her", and what he wanted to ask about was not "her", but some kind of thick, wet, and indescribable sadness behind "her".

"..."

A cold wind blew from nowhere. The white-robed priest couldn't help but shudder.

what

Her fingers gently played with the hem of her clothes. The hot afternoon sun was radiating heat mercilessly, and she could feel her clothes and body getting hot, as if she had been standing here for a long time.

What was she thinking about just now that made her dazed? The memory is fragmented and the logical chain cannot be connected. She should be on her way back to the hotel... at least she should be.

Maybe it was because she had been in the sun for too long, but the back of her neck was burning.

She unconsciously tugged the hair around her ears, and slid her fingers along the silky touch to the end of her hair, then slowly teased the hair and wrapped it around her fingers, as if it was a fun game to distract herself from the thoughts behind her hair. Neck sensation.

O'Brien was waiting for such a priest.

When he saw her entering the hotel, he closed his magazine and dictionary, casually put a leaf he picked up from somewhere as a bookmark between them, raised his head and waited for the girl to come to him.

In fact, the pastor's expressions are not really rich, especially without eye contact, it is really difficult to convey emotions. But he could indeed see her trance from her plain face.

If his intuition wasn't enough to prove that this young lady was absent-minded, then when Sylvia walked straight this way without any pause, and even almost stepped on his crossed legs, it was enough to prove that she was absent-minded.

"Hey, Pastor." He couldn't help but remind him. Looking at the girl's reaction as if she was awakened from a deep sleep, he couldn't help but be curious, "Are you okay?"

But he saw her frowning. It's really strange. Miss Pastor has always been full of confidence. It's rare to see her so hesitant.

She thought about it, but in the end she couldn't come up with a reasonable explanation for why she was so out of shape, but she was even more unwilling to admit that she couldn't control her physical state. Being exposed by O'Brien made her feel a little angry deep down, so she could only Forcibly change the subject.

"If I'm not mistaken, this is my room." She tilted her head, pretending to be confused, her tone was high and high, completely different from her usual tone, "Why are you sitting here, Elf."

Now O'Brien was sure that Sylvia did have resentment in her heart after the last conversation, so he was lucky enough to see the priest's rare yin and yang aura. But now he was the one who needed to bow his head, so he had no choice but to raise his hands to beg for mercy.

"I was wrong." He admitted his mistake frankly and directly. He doesn't feel any shame about it. What a joke, what shame can there be in bowing down for money.

Sylvia, on the other hand, was puzzled. Perhaps even she herself was not aware of the faint dissatisfaction in the previous sentence, "What are you apologizing for?"

"Aren't you unhappy?" The elf stood up, and now his obvious height advantage allowed him to breathe a little easier when facing the girl in front of him.

The pastor lowered his eyes, "I'm not... at least I don't feel unhappy." But she still kept a straight face.

Something was suddenly held in front of her. She was startled and subconsciously tilted her head back.

"But you do look unhappy." This was completely true. O'Brien thought there was no hint of glibness in his words. "Be happy, Sylvia. Look, I brought you flowers."

"What's the meaning?" He scratched the back of his head, remembering something, and his tone was a little smug. The person who chose this bouquet of flowers was simply a genius. "Oh."

"It's 'Happy Return'."