Guyld meets her daughter (and a procession of warrior monks)

Guyld III would soon discover that her therapist hadn't just been fabricating stories to guilt trip her patient into altruism; Guyld IV, ever the spitting image of her mother, really had gone out to entertain the faithful at the local chapels. Of course, doing so on the bad side of town meant coming prepared with a throng of those shaven, cudgel-carrying monks that the St. Vendigeld family employed when traveling, to repel bandits and demons.

Where the mother was aging and chubby, the daughter was vibrant and youthful, everything one could want from a daughter... with perhaps some of the same flaws as her mother, in terms of aristocratic arrogance. Her vibrant green hair was styled in a single large ponytail, forming first a loop at the back of her head, then clipped to fall all the way down past her hips in the back, and her sparkling emerald eyes matched her mother's, along with her fair skin and pink lips. Guyld III had groomed her daughter to be a perfect bride and net a winner of a husband, just like she had. Guyld IV remained unmarried, rounding the curve from 19 to 20... most would say that was still plenty young, but it had become the source of arguments many times already. Guyld III had wanted her daughter to marry as soon as possible and felt that the girl was dragging her feet... Many times she'd tried to break her daughter's romantic ideals or pick out suitors for her, but to no avail.

All of that said: the daughter had many reasons for finding herself averse to her own mother's presence. As such, when she spotted her mother's head peeking out from behind a fence as she conducted the long walk up church street from the poor chapel to her home, her first thought was not "what is mama doing back there?" Instead, it was "oh great, mom's here to rag on me while I'm doing charity work." She verbalized neither thought, instead putting on a **** smile and offering a curtsy. Like her mother, she was dressed all in white, but with a tube-dress instead of a slit one, reaching to just above her ankles, which were clad in gold-colored sandals with pink flower adornments on the straps. "Good evening, mother. Have you been following me for a while now? I apologize, I would have slowed my procession," she lied. "Did you manage to catch the last show? Ah, it was... rather unusual... but I think the people enjoyed it."

When the elder Guyld had spotted her daughter, her immediate thought was that Guyld IV had been sent to dress her and take her back to the mansion. In her supernaturally charitable mood, however, she found the revelation that her daughter had been doing charity work to be quite pleasing. As such, she emerged from behind the mansion, to the gasping of many monks, and embraced her daughter in a big hug. "Splendid, Guyld! You're becoming quite the go-getter, aren't you? I never praise you for that, but I really ought to!" she chuckled, running a hand through her daughter's hair like a doting mother, fixing the green locks to be nice and evenly arranged.

"M-M-Mother! What are you wearing?!" Guyld IV questioned, struggling to get free as she was squished against her mom's mostly exposed body.

"Oh...? Oh!" the mother first questioned, then gasped, looking down. "I see your confusion now. You see, I've been doing charity work all day and this is the natural conclusion, ho ho."

"There's nothing natural about it!!" Guyld IV protested, covering her face with both hands as she managed to back up. The monks didn't appear to be keen to do the same thing, instead staring with interest.

Sensing her daughter's dismay, Guyld III frowned with a sympathetic expression. "Oh, I see... You must be so disillusioned. It's true, you know? I've always worn a girdled corset," she explained. "Although these are not panties I would normally wear. I got them from a stranger."

"You... a stranger... wait, what?" the daughter questioned, suddenly going from concerned to frustrated as she caught the implication. "Mama, that's not fair! You wear a girdle?! You made me stop baking sweets because you said they were bad for my figure, remember? You've been wearing a girdle this whole time?! So what, are you sneaking sweets and things?! I've been skipping breakfast just to fit in your hand-me-downs!"

"... Not 'sneaking,' per say... A small tray of cookies or tarts is an elegant mid-morning snack for a noble woman," Guyld III answered, pressing her fingers together sheepishly. "A-And after attending to the affairs of all the church coin, which can be extremely taxing- if you'll pardon the joke- I think I'm owed a macaroon... or four..."

"Mama, do you even know how long it's been since I had a macaroon?!" the child cried, stomping her feet up and down and waving her fists.

"Don't be mad, my sweet Guyld," the unusually mild mother encouraged her daughter. "I'll make it up to you! Don't worry, I've seen the light! I'm a changed woman! What can I do to make it up to you? I've seen the redemption that lies in charity, I swear it! D-Do you want sweets? If we must, I can have the chef prepare you a dainty snack, appropriate for an unwed woman. But, but- once you get married, then you can take your corset off and have all the snacks you want, dear, once you've got him wrapped around your finger! Until then, composure, diligence, modesty...!"

The monks all looked at one another in confusion; none of them had ever seen Guyld III lose her composure before (although Guyld IV did so quite often). It was as though they were watching a completely different woman... and deprived of all of her finery, wearing just a corset and ripped panties, she really did look like somebody totally foreign to them. At the same time, the younger Guyld had ceased her shouting, but now stood raging with her cheeks puffed out and her fists shaking, full of vengeful thoughts towards her mother...