“I'm flying straight up. Do you need to carry you, or can you get up there on your own?”
Alexia sized up Hathaway's bedroom window. She pulled a specially prepared case from her pocket, retrieved a pair of small, delicate gold-rimd glasses, and slid them onto her nose. Then, she addressed the cat standing in her shadow.
Chocolate shook its head and charged straight at the thick compound wall. The cat didn't collide with the stone. Instead, the wall's surface rippled like water the mont it touched him. As if passing through an illusion, Chocolate phased through the barrier and into the courtyard.
At that mont, Hathaway was sitting at the vanity in her bedroom, arranging her jewelry. She picked up an erald necklace, wondering how she should accessorize if she were truly to et the princess of Ruen. She had to ensure she wouldn't be outshone.
Deep in thought, she suddenly heard a soft tapping on the windowpane.
She rose and walked to the window, where she saw a familiar cat crouching just outside the pane. Despite the darkness, Chocolate's black and white fur made him remarkably conspicuous. He was pressed right up against the glass, but the main reason he stood out was the faintly glowing blue cube held by the petite woman floating behind him.
She took an involuntary step back, but then quickly rembered to open the window.
The mont she opened the window a crack, Chocolate slipped through the narrow gap. He sniffed the air in the room with a look of disdain before leaping onto the small round table that held her tea set.
“Our first ti eting. Allow to introduce myself—I am Alexia Miller. I imagine you've heard the na.”
Alexia remarked as she floated in through the window, landing softly on the floorboards. Hathaway reached out to close it.
“Hello. I'm Hathaway Hersha. It's a pleasure... Good evening.”
Her gaze drifted to the windowpane, where the bright indoor gaslight cast a clear reflection of her face. Hathaway could see her own stunned expression, the features twisted by a forced attempt at composure. She t her reflection's eyes for a few seconds before quickly reaching out to draw the curtains, shutting the image of herself out.
“I apologize for the late visit. Jenkins is far too vigilant, so I had to choose a ti when he wouldn't be paying attention.”
Alexia explained, glancing toward a nearby chair.
“Please, sit.”
Hathaway invited her, lowering her head to compose herself. When she looked up again, her face was a mask of elegant composure. In truth, she was more curious why Chocolate would willingly accompany this woman.
“Jenkins has told about you, and I assu he's told you about . We can dispense with the pleasantries. After all, the relationship between the two of us is, shall we say... peculiar.”
Alexia chose a neutral word as she accepted the teacup Hathaway offered. For their first eting, the two won were surprisingly free of conflict—though from Chocolate's point of view, the atmosphere in the room was deliciously strange. He quite enjoyed the scene.
Hathaway poured tea for them both, set out a few small pastries for Chocolate, and sat down herself.
“Miss Miller, what brings you here tonight?”
She carefully controlled her tone and expression.
“I want to discuss Jenkins's future with you. The princess of Ruen has already investigated the Williams family's affairs, a fact I'm sure you're aware of. As people who will be living with that man for a very long ti, shouldn't we discuss together what kind of life we ultimately want Jenkins to lead?”
Alexia adjusted her glasses, admitting to herself that such a simple accessory could genuinely alter one's aura. At the very least, facing this version of Alexia, Hathaway felt none of the pressure she might have from confronting a near-demigod. Instead, she found the woman before her to be refined and intelligent. She had to concede, Jenkins had excellent taste.
“Yes,” she agreed, “we must...”
She enunciated the pronoun "we" with heavy emphasis, and Alexia understood her aning perfectly. Because of Jenkins's despicable behavior, it wasn't just him who had to navigate a complex web of relationships. The won involved hadn't exactly accepted the situation with open arms either. Everything would require... adjustnt.
Hathaway considered herself and Briny to be the originals, while Alexia felt the red-haired woman should never have been the first to cross that line with Jenkins.
“We know you're unhappy. Frankly, so am I. But that isn't the point of our discussion tonight. Do you rember my question? That is what's crucial. Miss Hathaway Hersha, Jenkins made these decisions, but he isn't the only one who gets to determine our future. We can also determine his. For instance... whether or not he should accept that crown.”
(Finney, in prayer...)
Jenkins rode the unicorn into the sky, climbing higher and higher, drawing ever closer to the inverted city hanging above. It was a terrifying sight; for a mont, he even lost his ability to distinguish up from down.
Upon reaching a certain altitude, the unicorn stopped of its own accord. As its immaculate wings beat, a pure white light shimred around them. A distortion in the light above told Jenkins that they had reached the nexus of the anomalous space.
“Ready?”
He gently patted the small beast beneath him and drew his sword from the very air. Taking a deep breath, he swung the blade upward in a fierce arc. The impact was silent, sending ripples echoing through the air. Seizing the mont, the unicorn shot forward like an arrow, plunging into the distortion.
It all happened in an instant, witnessed only by the night sky.
Flight was forbidden in the Doomsday Illusion. After a disorienting spin, as if breaking through a mbrane of water, Jenkins completely lost his sense of direction. Gravity took hold, pulling them down, but the unicorn struggled to slow their descent with its own power. As a result, when they finally hit the ground, they were surprisingly unhard by the impact.
“You've done well. You can go back now. I'll handle the rest of the way on my own.”
The commotion of their arrival had already attracted nearby monsters. Fighting back a wave of intense nausea from the spatial transfer, Jenkins sent his unicorn away first. Then, he took stock of his surroundings. Treading over bloodstains and cobwebs on the ruined street, he used his sword to shatter the door of a tobacco shop whose sign had long since faded.
The door had been boarded up with four long planks nailed in a crisscross pattern. They must have been ancient, because they splintered at the slightest touch.
Shattering the boards created an even louder noise.
Reviews
All reviews (0)