"Jenkins, where are you off to so late? Do you need a ride?"
Miss Windsor asked, leaning her head out of the carriage window. The light from within cast her shadow almost completely over Jenkins, lending the young woman a dreamlike charm.
"Oh, thank you for the offer. I was planning to take a walk and enjoy the night scenery of Bel Diran, but a fog has rolled in. This is much better, but are you sure it's on your way? I'm heading back to my house in the city."
He asked.
"No matter where you're going, it's on my way. Co on up."
She instructed her driver to open the carriage door. Jenkins nodded and climbed inside with his cat.
Miss Windsor was dressed in hunting attire. Her outermost, mud-yellow coat was fastened by a single button at the center, revealing a gray sweater underneath. She wore slim-fitting trousers and black, high-laced boots that made her legs seem long and her stature tall even while seated. It was an uncommon way for a woman to dress; ladies of this era still predominantly wore skirts. He had no idea what she had been up to.
So believed that clothes like hunting gear were ant only for n, that won couldn't carry off their distinct style. But from Jenkins's perspective, a dashing and spirited beauty like Miss Windsor looked even more striking in such an outfit. In the warm yellow gaslight, she was exceptionally captivating. Jenkins smiled at her as he sat down, then lowered his head to place the cat on his lap.
Conversation customarily began with a round of pleasantries. As Miss Windsor spoke, she leaned against the carriage wall, resting her chin in her hand and gazing out the window, which gave her a sowhat lancholic air.
"I just ca from Coldspring Palace. Tonight's banquet was quite lavish."
It was Jenkins who initiated the topic.
"Does Her Majesty seem well?"
"She does. Her voice was quite strong when she spoke with , and after dinner, she even gave a tour of the rear garden. Miss Windsor, have you not been to see Her Majesty recently?"
"No, I've been busy with my own affairs for the past half-month."
"Perhaps you could attend the banquet tomorrow. Her Majesty is hosting the naval commanders, along with a number of nobles and officials, to celebrate the complete victory in the Broken Isles campaign. I imagine you've already heard. It should be the liveliest party this month. After all, from what I've seen since arriving in Bel Diran, this city doesn't seem particularly peaceful."
"Jenkins, am I to understand that you are inviting to be your companion?"
The question was utterly abrupt. Jenkins had no idea how she had reached that conclusion, but as the lady shifted her gaze from the window to him, her eyes were filled with emotions he couldn't decipher.
"What I ant was..."
He wanted to refuse, to avoid adding any more turbulence to his romantic life, but Miss Windsor simply raised a finger and placed it on his lips. It was a remarkably forward gesture.
"Don't refuse , please?"
The cat, lounging on his lap, lazily opened one eye to peer at the woman.
She looked exceptionally sorrowful, revealing a vulnerability Jenkins had never seen in her before. He looked at her, a thousand possibilities running through his mind.
"I have my own companions. More than one, in fact."
He stated calmly, his tone devoid of its earlier polite cadence.
"Do you think I'm using you?"
The woman wearily withdrew her hand and leaned back against the carriage wall once more.
"Jenkins, I..."
Jenkins shot a hand out and covered Miss Windsor's mouth. Ignoring her struggles, he forcefully pulled her closer and narrowed his eyes, staring straight ahead. Though only the carriage wall was there, he could see through the obstruction, detecting the tell-tale glow of an Enchanter outside.
"Damn it, who would ambush this late at night?"
He cursed inwardly, signaling the still-struggling woman to stop moving. At the sa ti, the carriage began to slow down; clearly, the driver had also noticed the person standing in the road.
"Who are you? Sir, please don't stand in the middle of the road."
The two inside the carriage heard the driver's muffled voice.
"You don't need to know who I am. I'm here to take the person in the carriage."
The two people and one cat inside the carriage listened in silence, clearly hearing the exchange outside. Jenkins released his hand from Miss Windsor's mouth and reached for the gun at his waist. He also noticed the knight's longsword in the carriage—it was in nearly the sa spot as the last ti he'd encountered her. It seed Miss Windsor was quite fond of the weapon.
"My lady will not be going with a stranger."
The driver said. Simultaneously, Jenkins's ears caught the faint sound of footsteps behind the carriage. Judging by their cadence, they belonged to ordinary people. Jenkins guessed they were Miss Windsor's hidden guards.
As for Jenkins, he had no guards of his own. The Church knew how much he loathed being followed.
"That's not for you to decide."
The stranger blocking the road sneered, and then the sound of gunshots erupted around the carriage. But the sporadic firing ceased in less than half a minute. The two inside remained silent. Jenkins and the cat both knew that a group of well-trained ordinary n, even with enough firearms, stood no chance against a prepared Level 4 Enchanter.
He raised a hand, signaling Miss Windsor to stay quiet. He switched his gun to his left hand, drew the sword from its scabbard with his right, and ducked out of the carriage.
The night was utterly still. Under the moonlight and the pale yellow glow of the streetlamps, the empty street was littered with dozens of bodies. The shadow of the man standing beneath the gaslight flickered like a specter. Though the weather was already warm, a few insects sward the lamp, making its already dim light seem to pulse incessantly.
He was a round-faced man in a gray flat cap. His left hand rested on a cane with a gold-decorated head, while his right held a gleaming black pistol, its barrel still smoking. Seeing Jenkins erge, he grinned and, with a flourish, brought the gun to his lips to blow the smoke away.
"I never thought I'd find a man in Miss Windsor's private carriage. Now that's quite the story. Jessica Windsor, aren't you coming out?"
"So, he wasn't here for ," Jenkins thought, just as he heard a sound behind him. Miss Windsor had also erged from the carriage.
"Who are you?"
Her voice was still steady. She was a strong woman.
"I told you, who I am isn't important. Now, please co with . Otherwise, I have no objection to leaving with your corpse instead."
Bang!
A gunshot rang out from behind him. Miss Windsor had raised her hand and pulled the trigger. The bullet zipped past Jenkins's side, striking the man with perfect accuracy in the left side of his chest. But there was no blossoming flower of blood; the impact rely kicked up a few sparks before the bullet clattered to the ground.
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