Mr. Brol was suprely confident in 'Frozen.' He planned a five-figure first print run, figuring that even in the worst-case scenario where they didn't sell out, they could ship the surplus to neighboring regions for sale.
"Speaking of which, have you ever thought about taking a short trip to the Hamparvo Kingdom?"
Jenkins was still watching Mr. Brol's figure as he climbed into his carriage when Papa Oliver suddenly posed the question.
A jolt of alarm shot through him; he thought for a mont that his unauthorized, illegal border crossing had been exposed, but a second thought told him that was highly unlikely.
"I haven't, Papa Oliver. From what I've heard, the Hamparvo Kingdom in winter, anywhere north of Fenir County, is no place for people to live."
"Can't you just put on a few more layers? There are plenty of large cities in the far north, you know. The permafrost glaciers and the hot springs on the snowfields are marvelous sights you can't see anywhere else."
He took off his glasses and stored them under the counter. Picking up the ruby he'd been holding, he gave it a quick wipe with the cloth he used for the tabletop and said in a casual tone:
"There's a shipnt that needs to be brought over from there. If you're not interested, I'll just find soone else to escort it. I've heard you've never once left the Fidektri Kingdom. A young man ought to get out and see the world a bit."
"That sounds an awful lot like sothing the Traveler's Sect would say."
Jenkins remarked, but imdiately felt his comnt was impolite. Before Papa Oliver could react, he quickly asked another question:
"So, have you been to the northern part of the continent?"
"Of course. When I was young, I even lived in Ruen for two years. A truly fascinating city. Hold on a mont..."
With that, he set down the jewel and headed up the stairs to the second floor. He returned a few minutes later holding a photo album.
The album had a brown leather cover that was smooth to the touch. Papa Oliver didn't let Jenkins see the first few pages, flipping directly to a spot just past the middle.
Within the opened album were six black-and-white photographs, all severely yellowed with age. The subject of every picture was the sa stern-faced, middle-aged man. Jenkins couldn't discern the order in which they were taken, because Papa Oliver looked identical in all six.
"You were very handso when you were younger."
"Oh? You think so?"
A rare smile graced Papa Oliver's lips. He gazed at the photos with a hint of nostalgia, as if lost in mories of the past.
"These were taken a very long ti ago. Photography was much cruder back then; otherwise, they would have been better preserved."
He pointed to the middle photograph on the left page. In the background stood an exceptionally tall clock tower. Compared to the one in Nolan City, the spire-topped tower in the picture possessed a much greater sense of history, suggesting it had stood for well over a century.
"That's the famous Helfert Clock Tower in Ruen, a landmark symbolizing freedom and peace. In the sumr of 871 by the Universal Calendar, Emperor Rodfels III of the ancient Sicari Empire funded its construction from the state treasury to commorate the five-hundredth anniversary of human settlent there."
The clock tower still stands today, though it's no longer open to the public. Miss Miller and Jenkins had seen it from a distance while sightseeing in Ruen. She had even suggested they fly up at night for a closer look, but Jenkins had declined, as it was getting too late.
In truth, the backgrounds of all six photographs were so blurry they were nearly indecipherable. Jenkins could only identify the locations thanks to Papa Oliver's explanations.
The only group photo was at the top of the right-hand page. Standing next to Papa Oliver was a young man with a brilliant smile. He was dressed in formal attire, pretentiously leaning on a cane with both hands, and appeared to be about the sa age as Jenkins.
Papa Oliver didn't say who it was, and Jenkins didn't ask, but he had the distinct feeling he had seen that face sowhere before.
After work, Jenkins first made a trip back to Maidenhaven Road to check on John, who had narrowly escaped a violent death.
While chatting downstairs, a somber Mary told him she had already arranged for John to take a week off from school so he could rest at ho. John hadn't been injured, but considering that all the young people who died the previous afternoon were his classmates at the Third Private Preparatory College, Mary wanted him to stay away for a while. As Jenkins understood it, John's grade only had three classes, and with more than twenty students lost in one go, it was a devastating blow for everyone.
John was lying in his room. He looked physically fine, just emotionally drained. Although the girl he had a crush on had also been spared, most of his friends had closed their eyes for the last ti.
Realizing that most of them had died from the aftershock of the [Twin Demons] explosion, Jenkins had no idea how to comfort his brother.
He placed the fountain pen he had picked out earlier—a gift worth five pounds and three shillings—on the nightstand. The two brothers exchanged a few simple words before Jenkins excused himself from the room.
The mont he stepped out, he saw Chocolate perched on the stair railing, watching him. The sight brought Jenkins a small asure of comfort.
Before leaving Maidenhaven Road, Mary quietly asked if he needed to co ho for the week. She had read in the newspaper that the residents of St. George Avenue had all temporarily relocated due to a large-scale renovation of the underground pipes, and she was worried Jenkins had nowhere to stay.
"It's all right. Bishop Parrold has prepared a small room for at the church."
In truth, it was larger than his own living room.
"It's very comfortable there. It's a bit far from Pops Antique Shop, but at least at night, I can join the priests for prayers and attend mass."
He declined the offer to move back temporarily, worried he might bring his troubles ho with him.
After having dinner at the church and chatting for a bit with Bishop Parrold, he killed so ti in the Secret Trace Library before returning to his room to get ready for bed.
He sat on his bed cradling his cat, a history book about the 17th Epoch spread open on his crossed legs. When his pocket watch showed eight o'clock, he activated the spiritual lodestone.
He found himself once again before the roaring fireplace. Miss Miller had her elbow on the armrest, her chin propped in her hand, watching as his form materialized from transparent to illusory, and then from illusory to solid.
"Good evening."
"Good evening."
Through the window, the moon was visible—a rare sight. There was no snowfall tonight, which was unusual weather for winter in Ruen.
Miss Stuart and Julia had yet to arrive; they could only find an opportunity to slip away from the royal palace after nine. As a princess of the kingdom, she could only find an excuse to move out of that brightly lit palace after she turned eighteen, and this year, Dolores was only sixteen.
"Alright."
Miss Miller gave Jenkins a light smile. "So, has anything interesting happened this week?"
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