"Has Miss Bevanna's injury fully healed?"
The flas of the fireplace cast a glow on his young profile as Jenkins casually inquired.
"I don't know. Perhaps you could ask her yourself."
Captain Bincy replied.
After leaving Pops' for the day, he didn't go ho for dinner but found a nearby restaurant instead. Once he had eaten, he took a carriage to Sophistus Avenue, where the Nesser & Brolin United Bookstore was located.
Worried about being recognized, he donned his black robe before entering the bookstore.
Just as Mr. Brolin had said, Jenkins's book was displayed in the most prominent spot, visible even from the shop's window outside. As evening approached, the bookstore grew more crowded, and Jenkins observed that most people paused for a mont before the display for "A Frozen Romance".
He wasn't sure if it was because of the exquisitely designed cover or his na in its conspicuous placent, but it was likely a combination of both.
"Hah, Williams's new book."
As Jenkins stood there gazing at the book's cover, a passing custor muttered under his breath, his tone laced with a hint of mockery. Jenkins was sothing of a celebrity now, so he wasn't at all surprised by such an encounter.
The custor, of course, had no idea who the slightly heavyset, middle-aged man beside him was, but he too stopped to look at the row of displayed books. Jenkins glanced at him from the corner of his eye. At first, he only found him vaguely familiar, but after a few seconds, he rembered they had t once, months ago.
It seed like a distant mory now—Miss Mikhail had invited him to a reading salon hosted by a demon, and there had been quite a few other writers in attendance besides Jenkins.
Due to his female companions and other reasons, a small faction had been rather unfriendly to the up-and-coming Jenkins, including a man with a small mustache. Though the mustache was gone now, Jenkins still rembered him. His magnum opus was "A Palace Romance".
It was worth noting that Jenkins only later found out it was an erotic novel. At the ti, when they weren't yet well-acquainted, both Miss Mikhail and Miss Hersha had advised him against associating with such a person.
"The fact that he's here ans that even though he attended that reading salon, the Church still believes he had nothing to do with the twin demons."
He reasoned internally. He had been about to leave, but since he'd run into soone interesting, he might as well stick around and hear his opinion.
"Williams?"
Jenkins mimicked the man's earlier tone. "Hmph, just a lucky fellow. I don't an to criticize the Church, but I imagine anyone with access to its knowledge and support would be just as successful."
To avoid the mistake of speaking too freely with a stranger, he deliberately spoke in an extrely deep voice. He also took a step forward, pretending not to see the man to his right and slightly behind him.
Sure enough, the man behind him took the bait.
"You're absolutely right. Williams's success isn't his own."
Jenkins imdiately turned his head in surprise, as if only just noticing soone was behind him. But his expression quickly settled into one of composure, seeing that the man shared his opinion.
"You think so too?"
Jenkins asked.
"Of course. To be honest, sir, I even know this renowned young author."
The word "renowned" was clearly ant as sarcasm.
"You can't imagine what his success is built on, can you? No one would believe it, but before last sumr, he was just so punk running wild on the streets. Hah! Then, sohow, he beca an apprentice at an antique shop, sweet-talked two noble ladies, and leveraged that to get in with the Church. And that's how he got his fa."
Jenkins had no idea where the man had heard all this, but the sequence of events was completely wrong.
"Noble ladies?"
He echoed the phrase, then answered his own question. "If that's true, it's quite enviable. Williams certainly has so good luck."
As he spoke, he raised his right hand in an exaggerated gesture.
"A poor boy and noble ladies... an interesting topic."
"Hmph. Lucky."
The man beside him sneered. He was about to add another sarcastic comnt but saw the stout, middle-aged man he'd been talking to bend down and pick up one of the books.
"Don't you dislike Williams too?"
"Of course. But now I'm genuinely intrigued by the man. I'm going to buy a copy. Perhaps I can figure out the source of his good fortune."
With that, he walked straight to the counter to pay, ignoring the other man's reaction.
Miss Bevanna's injuries seed to have fully healed. At least, Jenkins couldn't see any of the bruises on her arm caused by the divine power.
When they t in her office, the woman was busy with so docunts and asked Jenkins to wait a mont.
She also inford him that the incident at Snowstorm Manor was now being handled. The Kingdom of Cheslan, upon receiving the body of the key keeper—the serial killer—who had been buried in the snow, had readily agreed to pay the bounty. However, the investigation into the manor's doctor had hit a dead end.
On one hand, the materials Jenkins had submitted were not rare texts on necromancy, which made tracing the lead a significant challenge. On the other hand, the apartnt building Mr. Dekker had rented two years ago had collapsed during last sumr's heavy rains. The landlord's entire family had tragically died in the accident, and to make matters worse, the tenant records were missing. Now, no one knew who had left those items inside the walls.
Furthermore, because Jenkins hadn't reported anything about Quake, and since his body was also missing, the police had officially declared him dead.
But Quake's father, an old earl currently far away in Bel Diran, refused to accept this outco. Franklin Quake was the fifty-year-old man's only son and the sole heir to the entire Quake family.
"Just you wait, you filthy people, you despicable murderers! Just wait! Wait for the Quake family's revenge!"
Those, according to Miss Bevanna, were Earl Quake's exact words.
"So, what does he plan to do?"
Jenkins asked.
"The Church isn't concerned with what he wants to do, and you needn't worry either. Even if he wants revenge, he won't co after you. After all, you weren't the organizer or the venue provider for that trip. The Kingdom will soothe Earl Quake's temper and hope he doesn't do anything irrational."
Miss Bevanna didn't elaborate, but her statent that the Kingdom was keeping an eye on him implied they were well aware the old earl might, in fact, do sothing irrational.
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