"I'll go next, then."
Encouraged by Jenkins's "confident" answer, the lady with the shrill voice approached the table and handed him five pence.
"Your path to love will be a rocky one. For the next two years, you must turn away all suitors. Your true love will appear after that."
Jenkins proclaid.
"What about us, then?"
The two won who had been silent—aside from Briny—asked in unison. They looked remarkably similar, likely twins, though only one of them opened her handbag as she spoke.
"Do not trust handso n. The one for you will be a young man of ordinary appearance but extraordinary talent. Yes, the sa goes for your sister."
He couldn't be bothered to invent any more outlandish fortunes. A wave of regret washed over him for choosing this place to hide.
Once the two look-alike ladies had stepped back, Briny approached the table. Just like her friends, she gave Jenkins five pence.
"I knew this would happen... When I see Hathaway this evening, I'll have to tell her about this. She'll definitely make fun of ."
He collected the coin with a stony expression, cleared his throat, and spoke:
"You have already found love. Why do you co to with this question?"
The twins behind Briny imdiately began to whisper to each other. Jenkins's hearing was sharp, and he faintly caught the na "Hathaway."
"I have?"
Briny asked, her expression hesitant.
Jenkins didn't answer right away, instead rubbing his fingers together in a gesture for more money. The blonde girl shot him a glare but couldn't find any more coins. Jenkins offered to make change, but Briny waved it off, simply telling him to finish what he had to say.
"Yes. The future your love portends is quite complex—a love unlike that of ordinary people. But it will be a fulfilling and happy one. You need not worry. Fate favors you, miss. That is sothing many can only dream of."
He didn't dare to be too specific, afraid he might give himself away. He never expected, however, that Briny would notice the lazy cat curled up beside him. By so strange whim, the cat made her think of Jenkins. She pulled a one-shilling note from her bag and offered it to him:
"I'd like you to do a reading for a friend of mine. His na is Jenkins Williams, a twenty-one-year-old man, born in Nolan. Since you seem to need no special items for your divinations, please, begin."
Jenkins pocketed the banknote without a change in expression, knowing this was a critical mont. One wrong word, and he would raise suspicion. Briny might not guess that the hook-nosed man before her was Jenkins himself, but she could easily suspect he was soone Jenkins had sent.
"Jenkins Williams..." he mused. "I feel as if I've heard that na sowhere before. He is..."
He took a deep breath, eting the scrutinizing gaze in Briny's eyes.
"He is fated for a tumultuous life. And he is of noble birth. Yes, exceedingly noble."
This was, of course, a blatant lie. Jenkins Williams was the bona fide son of a commoner.
"He has a wild personality and enjoys the company of beautiful won. A true rake."
Another lie. Jenkins considered himself quite conservative and traditional on the inside, even if his actions often painted him as a scoundrel.
"He is exceptionally gifted, his talents astonishing."
He had to throw in so "predictions" that matched his actual traits. If every single thing he said was wrong, Briny would surely grow suspicious.
"So, there you have it. A typical young nobleman of high birth—perhaps even a prince of so sort. That is what my divination reveals."
He concluded with a deliberately profound air, but Briny didn't give him so much as a second glance. After a quick word of thanks, she turned and hurried away with her friends, as if escaping.
"So... did I overdo it?"
He remained seated behind the table, his expression impassive. Beside the cat, the crystal ball reflected his contorted features.
After leaving the fortune-teller's tent, Briny and her friends wandered about for a while, like any other young won enjoying a day out. Then, they headed toward the cluster of towers at the heart of the encampnt.
The towers had been built by unscrupulous lumber rchants who stored their wood here through the sumr, autumn, and winter, renting each one out individually. According to the original Jenkins's mories, the Inherited Sage Church had rented one of the towers when he was nine, using it to sell church-printed books at low prices for missionary work.
This year, however, all the towers were rented out to private individuals. From what Jenkins had gathered during his earlier stroll, the tower the young won were heading toward was one that specialized in selling cheap perfus.
The ingredients in those perfus were questionable. They certainly had a fragrance, but it was tinged with a pungent, bizarre undertone. They were definitely not made from natural components; they slled more like crudely processed by-products of the chemical industry, peddled to the unsuspecting.
He was therefore certain these perfus had nothing to do with the Perfu Appreciation Committee. That group dealt exclusively in high-end products; to produce such inferior goods would be an insult to their craft.
"So, what are Briny and her friends up to?"
He looked up, focusing on the spiritual aura emanating from the charm Briny carried. He watched as the light spiraled steadily upward, indicating that she was climbing a flight of stairs.
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