Jenkins spent his morning transcribing the tadpole-like script and practicing a rather difficult ritual. His entire afternoon was then consud by checking the account books. Papa Oliver sat by the fireplace reading all day, leaving only for a short lunch break. And Chocolate, the cat, remained utterly motionless on the soft cushion of the counter, to the point that Jenkins had to place its little saucer right in front of it at lunchti.
As he had to attend the gas streetlight ribbon-cutting ceremony that evening, Jenkins left the antique shop a little early. He returned to the church to change his clothes before setting out with the other clergy mbers who were also attending the event.
But before they departed, Miss Bevanna handed him Bishop Parrold's ring of authority.
"This... isn't this against protocol?"
The iron-alloy ring had been in use since the founding of the Nolan diocese. As it was just one step away from becoming a true divine artifact, its surface was exceptionally smooth, without a trace of rust. Normally, Bishop Parrold never allowed anyone else to touch it.
"This is the diocese's decision," she stated. "You are representing the Bishop at this event. It is necessary for you to carry sothing that symbolizes his authority."
The ceremony for Nolan City's first gas streetlight was, naturally, held in front of City Hall. The building was located in a district near the central public square and the clock tower. On a clear day, if one were to look down from the top of the clock tower, they would see that City Hall was situated right at the largest bend of the Westminster River as it wound through the city.
But City Hall was built on high ground; even during the most dangerous rainy seasons, when the river flooded the city, it remained the safest place.
It was evening now, and the fog was as thick as ever. Only a few faint rays of the setting sun managed to pierce the clouds and touch the ground.
Directly across from City Hall stood a three-story stone building. The ground floor was occupied by shops, while the upper floors and attic were rented out as apartnts. Over a dozen cables stretched from the eaves of City Hall to the bases of the third-floor windows opposite, from which hung beautiful, colorful banners that fluttered in the wind.
The area before City Hall was paved with stone bricks. Last month's snow had not yet completely lted, leaving the ground looking damp and slick. Gentlen in top hats and formal wear and ladies in beautiful gowns had already gathered, while plainclothes policen patrolled both sides of the street. At the intersections, nurous carriages stood parked and waiting.
The citizens were also permitted to attend the ceremony, but they could only watch from a distance, behind a police line. Even so, the crowd of onlookers grew larger and larger.
As dusk fell, the din of the crowd grew louder, while the "important personages" attending the event always arrived fashionably late, just as things were about to begin.
Miss Mikhail stood with a group of other young noblewon, listening to them excitedly discuss whether there were any handso n among the spectators. On the surface, however, they all maintained perfectly ladylike composure, making it difficult for any outsider to connect their demure appearances with the topic of their conversation.
It wasn't a universal trait of womanhood, but rather a reflection of the era's customs—a ti when face powder and silk scarves fluttered in the winds of fashion. Besides, everyone knew that the young n were almost certainly on the other side of the street, having a similar discussion about them.
Hathaway had not been invited to such an event, so Miss Mikhail could only make idle small talk with her other friends. Sohow, her thoughts drifted to the not-so-talkative Jenkins.
A commotion erupted from the intersection to the left. The crowd of onlookers automatically parted, forming a wide path. A mont later, a carriage bearing the holy emblem of the Legacy Sage erged slowly from the throng.
The coachman was a skilled driver, and the Church's horses were remarkably docile, so the carriage passed through the crowd without causing any disturbance.
The ladies and gentlen at the entrance of City Hall imdiately turned their attention to the arrival. The mayor had not yet appeared, so Deputy Mayor Pence led the welcoming party forward.
The procession of carriages slowly ca to a halt to the left of City Hall. The doors opened, and priests and clergyn in their robes were the first to step out. The carriage in the very center of the procession was the largest—the one from which Bishop Parrold of the Legacy Sage Church would normally erge.
"Did you hear?"
Miss Mikhail heard her friends whispering nearby:
"Mr. Jenkins Williams was invited to this event too. Do you think he'll be following behind Bishop Parrold?"
"Jenkins will be here," Miss Mikhail told herself. Hathaway had ntioned it last night on their way back from KalFax Field.
At the thought, she subconsciously felt the urge to rise onto her tiptoes and peer over the crowd toward the carriages, but the sequined high heels she wore were clearly unsuitable for such a maneuver.
She was determined to find ti to thank Jenkins in person, at least before the banquet this Saturday. When she was a girl in her early teens, first discovering courtly novels through her maid, she had learned all about the "knight saving the damsel" trope. What happened last night had stirred sothing within her, but it was certainly not any sort of romantic feeling. Thanking him sooner would help her shake off this strange sensation all the faster. At least, that was what she told herself.
The old priest leading the delegation from the Legacy Sage Church briefly shook Mr. Pence's hand. The two exchanged a few quiet words, and the onlookers could clearly see the surprise that flickered across the deputy mayor's face.
He finally nodded, straightened his suit, and walked with the others toward the largest carriage.
The carriage door swung open, and a slightly nervous young man wearing an ostentatious ring stepped down.
A ripple of whispers imdiately spread through the crowd.
"Briny, that's Mr. Williams, isn't it? The ring he's wearing looks like..."
Miss Mikhail was too stunned to register which of her friends had spoken, but she knew for certain that the young man speaking with Mr. Pence, a bashful smile on his face, was indeed Jenkins, whom she had seen just that morning.
To appear at such an occasion wearing the ring that represented the Bishop's authority was an act laden with profound aning. Regardless of what the Legacy Sage Church intended by this gesture, after today, no one would ever again see Jenkins Williams as just a promising young man. He had already ascended to a position that others could only look up to with awe.
The chattering voices of won buzzed around her. Compared to the dull ceremony, the arrival of a young and powerful man was sothing truly worth their excitent.
"Briny, I imagine you must know Mr. Williams's address!"
She didn't know who had said it, but the irritating whispers surrounding Miss Mikhail suddenly grew even more vexing.
Reviews
All reviews (0)