New Day, New Sun

“Yeah… Take that, you stupid Kaito. Suck on my non-isekai non-existent nuts…”

Jenn rolled in bed, feeling quite at ease with her newfound luxuries. Her eyes opened soon enough to a scant ray of sun, pouring in from the bedside window. She felt her body. The wounds were gone. Her shoulder was locked in place and did not dangle in threads of muscle.

“Not an infirmary this time,” she mused, standing up.

The room was far too fancy for that. Wrapped in a blue, damask fabric, the walls, curtains, and everything remotely cloth-y were embroidered with gilded threads. The ceiling was low, true—but it was painted!; detailing a black-haired twink cutting down a dragon in flight.

How many ceilings are painted? Certainly not many. Certainly not, given the extent of Jenn’s expression and the distinct admiration in her beady brown eyes (despite how much she would deny it so).

She grunted with slight disdain.

Jenn’s gaze fell eastward, and she saw a bowl of fruits atop a table. “Woah. That is a lot of fruit.” She was taken aback. “I mean, that is a lot of fruit.” Jenn paused. “But like, there’s nothing saying the price… I’m guessing if there were, it wouldn’t be market-value.”

She bent over, picked up a yellow sphere of fruit, and ate it. She continued this for a while, repeating with a half-dozen, spitting out cores whenever she could into a bin.

“Phew.”

Jenn changed out of her tunic into a stack of her perfumed, washed clothes. Red overcoat. Collared shirt. White jeans. And a leather belt cinched around the waist, accentuating her already fit figure.

Her gaze turned towards the mirror, and she had a good look at her reflection. “Heh. Nice ass.”

When she left, Jenn was in a long, stone hallway. Carpeted. With maids. With butlers. With more than a few odd sights, knights, spandexed heroes, and the like.

“Filly?”

The horseman was there too. Leaned against the wall with a cross of his arms, hat tipped enough to hide his eyes. A patterned napkin was tucked in his hand, protruding with mounds.

Very stylish. If Jenn were a furr—sorry, ‘horse girl’, she might’ve even made a pun on the dual nature of riding. But she wasn’t, so all she did was nod, and give an appreciative smile.

“You missed breakfast.”

Filly opened the inside of his napkin. There was food bundled inside, salted beef tongue, raw vegetables, and even a small glass of wine.

“Filly, you're the coolest cowboy ever, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.”

The duo went downstairs and made their way to the palace gardens. It was mostly in the Renaissance style, with its tall, stone walls and manicured hedges. Yet, there were at times, strange interjections of other cultures, such as a square of raked white gravel before a hedge maze, a moon gate to another detached garden, and a tiny courtyard filled with exotic flowers and rocks.

“It’s kinda incoherent, don’t you think?”

Reading her gaze, Filly said, “Rocks and shrubs.” Then he repeated, this time a bit louder, “Rocks and shrubs. You live like me, ridin’ burros in waste and sand, even rocks and shrubs start lookin’ like gold and silver.”

“There's still good gold and bad gold. 10 karat, 24?”

“Only karat I know is long and orange.” He let the joke linger. “I’m talkin’ ‘bout a carrot. Sorry. Frontier humor.”

“So cool…” Jenn said, giving a vigorous shake of her head. “Urgh—but that just makes me hate the others all the more.”

The two stopped short of a path’s crossroads. They sat on a stone bench, without complaint. Filly passed her the food. She gave him a curious glance, a true ‘if you don’t want any, I’ll eat it all’ stare, and then did just that.

“What’d I miss?” asked Jenn.

“Oh, not much. Just reiterations of things already known.”

“Hey.” Jenn met Filly’s gaze. “See my eyes? Not an ounce of intelligence in them. So, any exposition you got, I’ll take it.”

His upper lip twitched. “At breakfast this mornin’, they explained that they’d be holdin’ the melee ‘fore lunch. Maybe in an hour or two? But ‘fore then, there’ll be a ceremony.”

“A ceremony?” Jenn repeated.

“A procession of music, and a visit from the King, so says the wind.”

“So says the wind,” said Jenn, leaning back into the bench. “And yet, I’m far more curious about what Filly has to say.” She looked at him. “Hey Filly, how do you feel about the procession?”

The horseman met her gaze with his big, horse-eyes.

If I had to guess, I’d assume he was in a somewhat vulnerable state of being. Thinking something along the lines of Oh rootin tootin son of a gun. Shot me much folk I did, aye. But not this! I’m as dusty as a saloon!

After a short moment of masculine contemplation, Filly started. “I’ve interest. I am here, ain’t I?” He checked that Jenn was not offended and started again. “‘Pears to me that I’m awful terrible at this sort of discussion.” Air entered his large, flared nostrils (embarrassment perhaps?).

“Nah, you’re doing good, Filly.” Jenn urged.

“Well then.” He stood upright. “Suppose my meaning is that I’m like you. I want to see how far I can go. And suppose only way this man can and do that is by means of shootin’ what he’s allowed to… Yes.”

“Shooting that girl, though?” Jenn said.

“...That was just good conscience. Ugly thing. But would’ve been uglier if I did nothin’.”

A moment passed without words. Every time a person stirred, so as to speak or move, they stopped, and every time it seemed someone would follow on that, well, that stopped too.

A great man once said, ‘Nothing great comes from alcohol. ’ But a popular man said in a half-drunken stutter, ‘But, me conversation!’, and that was that.

“Well, good lady,” Filly stood in a hurry. “Apologies for all that ramblin’. Introspective monlougin’ ain’t a water-worn cave for ol’ Filly.”

Jenn stood with him. “I liked your monologue, Filly.” She nodded her fast, short nods, a habit of her excitement. “Short as it was, I liked it quite a bit.”

His boots shuffled, and their spurs did clink. “Thank you kindly.”

Jenn was still. So was Filly.

A figure waltzed in: blonde drills, short stature, lips curved into a full-on smirk. And thus, the dream did end.

“OMG, get a room and take horse-dick already, you worn-out hag!”

For a moment, Jenn was curiously calm. Then, for the next, her hands were wrapped around the loli (who had appeared from a bush), and a fight promptly ensued.