Listening to his father and brother's conversation, John felt a twinge of envy. He knew that even when he ca of age, he wouldn't instantly have access to so much money, let alone be in a position to donate it.
He then recalled consulting Jenkins about the Miss Fabry affair and was flooded with a profound sense of relief.
“Jenkins, I'm proud of you.”
Robert repeated.
The Year's End Festival didn't traditionally include a custom of visiting deceased relatives; it was simply a habit the Williams family had cultivated over the years. As a result, the cetery was rather quiet. Aside from the Williamses, only a few scattered figures could be seen in the distance, walking along the path paved with flat gray flagstones.
Perhaps the influence of the God's Child in the city didn't extend to the suburbs, for the early morning cetery was shrouded in a thin layer of white mist. The five of them chatted as they walked deeper into the grounds, and they soon found what they were looking for.
Since it was a free plot, the "grave" was nothing more than a flat patch of earth with a simple stone marker set into the soil. Years ago, Mary had spent nearly all the family's savings to secure this pri location; otherwise, this year-end tradition would never have been possible.
John, the youngest son, held two bouquets of flowers while the others bent to clear away fallen leaves and debris from the area. After placing the flowers on the grave, they stood in silence for a few more monts before turning to leave.
Since they were planning to relocate the grave, Robert took Mary and John to find the groundskeeper and inquire about the process. anwhile, Newman happened to run into an acquaintance, and just like that, Jenkins found himself alone once more.
Unsure how long the others would be, he decided not to wait in one spot but didn't wander far either. He took Chocolate for a short stroll to admire the scenery. He had woken up rather early, and the cat was busy stretching, kicking its legs out in a long, satisfying arc.
“I hear the church's Year's End Festival banquet tonight will be quite lavish, with things like roast goose, pudding, and fried chicken.”
He mused aloud, shoving his hands into his pockets for warmth. The Year's End Festivals of his mory were always snowy, but today the sky was clear. He supposed there would be no snow.
As he andered, he saw a few other strangers. A simple nod served as a greeting between them, no words needed. But there were always a few friendly souls eager to chat, and as it happened, Jenkins had so ti to spare.
“Pardon , are you Mr. Jenkins Williams?”
The speaker was a middle-aged man dressed in a fine brown suit with a fur collar and a black hat. He held a bouquet of white carnations. Though ti had etched lines upon his face, he was still a strikingly handso man.
He possessed a unique charisma that naturally drew people to him; even though he had interrupted Jenkins's stroll, Jenkins felt no sense of annoyance.
“Yes, that's . Hello. Have we t before?”
He suspected the man might have been in the audience at his public lecture the day before.
“I've seen your photograph in the papers,” the man said. “People are calling you a hero, you know.”
“Oh no, I'm hardly a hero.”
“Miss Fabry's sche was a work of genius in its own right,” the man continued. “To have been able to expose her ans you must possess an even more exceptional mind.”
Jenkins couldn't tell if the man was just an ordinary citizen who had heard about the incident or one of the victims who had invested in Miss Fabry's fund. But his words made one thing clear: he held a genuine admiration for Miss Fabry, believing that her "spire-style" fraud—a sche designed to funnel all wealth to the top—was the most brilliant idea of the epoch.
Their conversation was just a small snapshot of the incident's far-reaching impact.
The carriage dropped Jenkins off at the church first before taking Robert and the other three back to Maidenhaven Road. This would be the first Year's End Festival Jenkins would spend away from ho, and Mary was clearly reluctant to let him go.
Before they parted, she pulled Jenkins into a tight embrace, making him promise to visit on the first day of the new year. Jenkins felt a bit awkward, especially when he caught John making a silly face at him from the side.
It was only ten in the morning when he returned to the church. With the antique shop closed for the holiday, Jenkins had no work to attend to. He found himself at a loose end; everyone at the church was busy with decorations but waved off his offers to help. He had no choice but to head back out to the streets for a casual stroll, using the ti to ntally run through his list of friends, wondering if he had forgotten anyone's gift.
After lunch, the festive decorations at the church were complete. Tasseled ornants symbolizing a bountiful harvest for the coming year hung from the doorfras. On the steps leading up to the entrance, pots of vibrant flowers were arranged in a beautiful display—Jenkins's handiwork from the night before.
He and Chocolate stood in the courtyard, their heads tilted back to look at the golden star perched atop the spire of the side tower. A mont later, they had to hastily sidestep a gaggle of children dressed in their holiday best. The children were rushing toward the main hall, eager for the afternoon's collective prayer service to begin.
The air buzzed with joy and excitent, and Jenkins found the feeling infectious. He even joined the choir for a song. Though his singing was a bit off-key, the listeners offered a polite round of applause when he finished.
“Happy Festival, Alexia!”
He arrived in Ruen at four in the afternoon. She was alone in the room; on such an important day, Miss Stuart had been unable to find an opportunity to slip away from the palace.
“Happy Festival, Jenkins.”
The woman smiled as she accepted the gift from his hands. The distance between Nolan and Ruen was vast, and he couldn't have been sure it would arrive in ti if he had sent it by post.
“I hear you've been making waves in Nolan again.”
It seed she was well-inford, which likely ant she was using Miss Stuart's information channels. After all, Ruen and Nolan were separated by half a continent.
Jenkins just smiled, not wanting to get into that topic right now. He opened his hand, and a Star Spirit instantly transferred the gifts he had stored in Nolan.
“These are for Miss Stuart and Miss Minnewick,” he explained. “I hope they like the brooches I chose.”
“And what's my gift?”
Alexia asked.
“I can't tell you. That's for you to discover tomorrow morning.”
Jenkins replied with a serious expression.
A gentle smile graced her lips once more. In truth, the mont she took the box, she had guessed its contents from the weight alone. But she wouldn't spoil the surprise; she wanted Jenkins to keep his cheerful mood.
The Stuart royal family held a traditional Year's End Festival banquet every year, and as the princess's tutor, Alexia was on the guest list. Seeing that she needed to prepare her gown for the evening and et up with Miss Stuart, Jenkins made to leave, but she stopped him.
“Wait a mont. You haven't taken your gift.”
“Didn't I get it last ti?”
He was referring to the gift boxes, wrapped in colorful paper, that he had already collected from the three won on his previous visit.
“That was only part of it. There's another gift, one that Dolores isn't ant to see. Could you lower your head, please?”
She asked this with her hands behind her back, rising onto her tiptoes. It was a truly charming gesture.
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