The Ruen nightscape certainly had a unique charm, but it was brutally cold. Just before eleven, the pair ducked into an alley where Miss Miller rapped on an unassuming iron door. Stepping inside, they found themselves in a hidden bar.
To be precise, it was a bar for Benefactors. A glance around the room revealed that every patron bore the faint glow of power. Miss Miller's aura was the brightest, while the faintest belonged to the bartender—he was a re Level 0.
They chose a table against the wall, and on Miss Miller’s recomndation, Jenkins ordered a drink with low alcohol content.
Bars in this city rarely served non-alcoholic drinks. The extre climate ant that before the rise of the steam industry, people relied on alcohol to brave the bitter cold, fostering a long-standing culture of heavy drinking.
“This place is a lot like the underground black market in Nolan, but the rules are more lax. Violent incidents aren't unheard of.”
Miss Miller whispered, while Jenkins surveyed his surroundings with keen interest.
They only stayed in the bar for a short while before setting out again. It was easy enough to find an available carriage, its driver huddled against the cold and practically dozing off. The carriage took them out of the city, dropping them off on the side of a narrow road.
They trudged for so ti through a birch forest, sinking into the snow with every step, before finally cresting a small hill.
“Hah...”
Jenkins let out a long, steamy breath. He took off his hat, shook the snow from it, and walked a few steps forward to gaze down at the city below.
Pinpricks of light faintly sketched the city's sprawling shape. Spread out before him lay the capital of one of the world's greatest kingdoms.
“Truly spectacular,” Jenkins remarked. “It’s a sha there’s no vantage point like this to look out over Nolan.”
“There are many other interesting sights to see. If we have ti, we can explore during the day next ti,” Miller said. “But sothing terrible has been lurking around Ruen lately. It's not a good idea to stray too far from the city after dark.”
“Sothing terrible?”
Jenkins asked, turning to face her.
Miss Miller winked at him. “That's right. A Cursed Item.”
The return trip to the city was fraught with tension, but thankfully, they never encountered the so-called “terrible thing.” Chocolate, it seed, had simply taken a nap in Jenkins's coat. He didn't stir until they were back at their lodgings, wriggling lazily against Jenkins's chest until he was lifted out.
They had wandered all over the city, and it was now approaching midnight. The original plan had been to resu their earlier discussion and tackle that complex mathematical problem again.
But they had barely exchanged a few words when the sound of hurried footsteps shattered their concentration.
The footsteps in the hallway stopped outside their door, followed by an anxious rap on the wood.
“Co in.”
Miss Miller called out, her brow furrowed in annoyance. She was normally quite easygoing, but she despised being interrupted when she was focused on mathematics.
The maid who had brought their tea entered, accompanied by another young woman. The newcor was clearly in a hurry; despite her scarf, her cheeks were flushed bright red from the cold. This, Jenkins presud, was their visitor.
“Miss Miller.”
The woman started for a mont upon seeing a man in the room, but her eyes then fell upon the table covered in papers and the small cat lounging lazily beside them, and she realized it wasn't what she had assud.
“I'm so sorry to bother you this late. Have you seen my young lady today?”
She spoke quickly.
“Miss Dolores Kingsley? I'm sorry, Julia, she hasn't visited today. Has sothing happened?”
If Jenkins recalled correctly, the current queen of the Hamparvo Kingdom had the maiden na Kingsley. Her father was one of the kingdom's own dukes.
So, Miss Miller's friend is a noble after all, Jenkins thought with so surprise.
“I'm sorry to have disturbed you. I'll go look sowhere else.”
She turned to leave, but Miss Miller shot Jenkins a aningful look before quickly rising to follow her.
What did that an?
Unfortunately, deciphering a woman's intentions was hardly Jenkins's strong suit.
Does she want to stay here? Follow her? Or sothing else entirely?
After a mont's hesitation, he beckoned to Chocolate. The cat imdiately leaped into his arms.
He then walked swiftly out of the room. After a quick word with the maid, he found the won just as he'd expected, standing in the snow-covered courtyard and talking.
Julia looked as if she were on the verge of tears, while Miss Miller stood beside her, offering quiet words of comfort.
“My friend is missing,” she told Jenkins. “I'm sorry, but I think we'll have to end our discussion for tonight.”
As she spoke, she winked at Jenkins again. This ti, miraculously, he understood.
“Do you need my help?”
“Well...”
Miss Miller turned to Julia, a troubled look on her face. “I may be a detective, but it's still better to have a man along when going out this late. My friend is skilled with both his fists and firearms. He could serve as a temporary bodyguard.”
Julia wiped away her tears, then thanked Jenkins and Miss Miller.
“May I ask your na, sir?”
“Hercule Poirot.”
Miss Miller supplied the alias before Jenkins could even open his mouth.
During one of their mathematical discussions, they had touched upon the subject of modern detective novels. Jenkins had rcilessly mocked the current crop of authors before using the nas Hols and Poirot to illustrate a few stories of his own. He never imagined she'd actually rembered.
In the end, the maid, Julia, accepted Miss Miller's offer of help. After a brief explanation, she led them to a carriage. Its exterior was remarkably plain, but the interior was astonishingly luxurious.
Of course, even Jenkins could tell that there was sothing suspicious about Miss Dolores Kingsley's disappearance. For one thing, the maid, Julia, steadfastly refused to tell them anything about her mistress's schedule for the day.
He worried she might have eloped. Such things weren't just plot twists from novels; a similar scandal had recently erupted in Nolan. But the great writer's emotional intelligence had improved of late, and he knew that voicing such a suspicion now would only make him unwelco.
On reflection, Miss Kingsley had only been missing for about an hour. Julia's intense anxiety seed almost overwrought.
A few discreet questions revealed that, in addition to the three of them, other “trustworthy people” had been dispatched to check the places Miss Kingsley might have gone. If she wasn't found within three hours, they would have no choice but to inform the Duke and begin a formal search.
Miss Miller had managed to insert herself into the affair thanks to her status as a “renowned Nolan detective.” Jenkins wasn't sure what thods she had employed, but she had effortlessly won the young maid's trust.
It was clear Julia was still holding a great deal back. She had been reluctant to let Jenkins co along at first, but Miss Miller's silver tongue had resolved all her objections.
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