Night of Eden 89

 Chapter 89

***

When Theodore arrived at Kreutz Castle, there were grubs everywhere.

Butler Buzlow came running out as if he'd been waiting for him, and Tilly was beside him. It was he who had changed the most over the years.

The people who scoffed at him, saying he was too fat to be an attendant, would be speechless if they saw him now.

His body had completely thinned out from all the traveling he'd done across continents and across oceans to the Federation. His eyes were deep, like those of an investigator, and his untrimmed beard made him look old beyond his years. (*I’m pretty sure they’re describing Tilly.)

"Shall I summon Nina?"

Theodore nodded.

A moment later, a petite woman appeared in the silent study. A white-faced maid with light brown hair and blue eyes. This was the same maid that Theodore had stared at without blinking when he and Tilly had been grouse hunting long ago.

In recent days, Tilly had dressed her in a plain dress instead of her maid's uniform. With light makeup and a good haircut, she was quite a beauty-not just a beauty, but someone who looked a lot like....

Theodore stared at her wordlessly. He looked at her as if he was a judge, giving all sorts of instructions: untie her hair, tie it back, put on makeup, take it off.

Nina did as she was told, but his eyes were filled with dissatisfaction.

"...Enough. Tell her to leave."

Tilly knew why his master was doing this, and he pitied him for even believing it was possible, but there was no other option, so he said nothing.

"The bath is ready."

Theodore headed straight for the bathroom.

In the meantime, Tilly organized his master's clothes and went into the next room to check the papers once more.

The Master was more sensitive than ever now. Even the slightest mistake was unacceptable, so Tilly had to double-check and triple-check each time he moved forward.

Satisfied that the paperwork was in order, Tilly stood at the door of the Master's office.

After a light knock, he didn't even wait to be asked in. It was a privilege he had earned through unspeakable hardship over the past three years.

"Master, there's something I need you to check out right now......."

Tilly was stunned into silence, unable to say more.

It wasn't because his master had finished his bath and dressed himself.

It was something lying on the table, right next to him.

A pistol lay in an open box.

Theodore stared down at it as he buttoned his sleeve. It was the very thing that had sent chills down the Duke and Duchess of Macmilan's spine.

***

[porche]

In ancient language, por means salt and che means drink, hence the name "salt tea.”

Jude Anderson had been wandering the train station square for tens of minutes in search of a teahouse that served the unique tea.

This was the main street of Biltriere, the largest industrial city in the Confederation.

The massive steel-and-glass Lewis Station station was a landmark in this vibrant city. The scene was spectacular, with dozens of glass structures reflecting the light of the rising sun in every direction.

While Jude was momentarily mesmerized by the glorious display of light, hundreds of people poured out of the station's entrance.

After a few minutes of frantically walking through the endless crowd, Jude realized that something was wrong.

His father had told him the teahouse was surely near this square.

But there was no sign that said "Porche," not even a glimpse of the statue of that war hero, General Brokeshire, three times.

Jude turned at the fork and walked away from the square. After walking aimlessly along the main street, his buffalo-skin loafers came to a screeching halt once more. Unlike before, a satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

He had found it.

[Porche]

Jude wiped the sweat from his brow with his handkerchief and approached the doorway. When he stood in front of the glass windows that looked out onto the interior, he was stunned.

It was 7 a.m., the lights were bright and the tables were packed with customers.

He had heard from his father how popular the restaurant was, so it wasn't surprising that there were so many people.

What made him pause was the color of their clothes. Most wore hats with holes in them, jackets with elbow patches, and their hair and beards were as unkempt as a rough broom.

Despite the frightening growth of Biltiere, the practice of paying for tea was still the preserve of the silver heritage class. The idea of selling tea to poor migrant workers was unheard of.

"Sir. If you're not going in."

Someone said impatiently from behind. Jude recovered from his surprise and opened the door.

With a ding, a bell rang, and a woman with red hair pulled back in a bun on either side greeted him.

"Welcome."

She greeted him cheerfully, then paused. She seemed to notice right away that Jude's attire was distinctly different from that of a laborer, and strangely enough, a suspicious look came into the woman's eyes.

"Did Mr. Scott send you, by any chance?"

"What?"

Jude asked, dumbfounded, and the woman blinked for a moment before quickly composing herself.

"Uh... Oh, I'm sorry, I was mistaken, I'm sorry."

The woman stammered, unable to help herself.

"Uh... and I'm sorry again, but we only have salt tea right now. Blended teas are only available after 12:00."

Blended teas? Does that mean they'll be selling fancy teas then?

Jude swallowed his surprise and replied.

"No, I'm here for salt tea."

Her eyes narrowed again as she turned around. Then she blushed as she realized she was being rude to a customer.

"Uh... would you mind waiting, then? As you can see, there's no room."

"Sure."

Jude removed his hat and stood in a suitable spot. His eyes naturally wandered around the shop.

The tearoom was larger than he'd expected. The walls were lined with modern gas lamps, and the chairs and tables looked luxurious. The ornaments and vases in the closet compartments were not cheap either.

As he looked around, he realized that this place was decorated similarly to the drawing room of a nobleman's house. The bustling staff were also dressed in casual clothes.

It was like being invited to a middle-class family's tea time, not a tea shop.

The only thing that gave it a rough and tumble feel was the appearance of the customers.

Jude had to blink for a long time to adjust to the strange sight.

Was that salt tea, by the way?

His gaze fell to the teacup, and his eyes widened again.

Is it from Riamo?

Riamo was a well-regarded pottery workshop on the mainland, and had recently become a hot commodity among the wealthy of the Federation. The sight of a man holding a fine teacup in his greasy hands was out of place.

"Hmmm."

The man coughed and stood up from his seat. He pulled a coin from his pocket and placed it on the table. The red-haired woman quickly slipped it into her pocket and began to clear the table.

Jude had to swallow hard.

...That's all they get for a drink. Can she even afford to run a shop?

"Thank you."

The man's lips drew a satisfied arc beneath his coarse beard.

As Jude stared after the man, a new voice spoke behind him.

"Be careful where you go, Mr. Bradley."

Naturally, his head snapped in that direction.

There was another woman. A young, beautiful woman with light brown hair tied loosely in a low bun.

Was it because she was standing in the middle of a sea of drab laborers that she seemed to be the only one shining?

Could it be her?

Jude's eyes narrowed. His father's words echoed in his head.

“I heard that a young woman actually runs the store. She's quite a beauty, you'd know her on sight.”

She could be in her early twenties?

Her slender face and her delicate features were in perfect harmony. Her nose was straight along her high forehead, and her eyes were the color of blue-gray, like the wings of a magpie.

The most attractive feature was the lower jaw. Her lips and chin formed a graceful, dignified line that only a person with perfectly aligned teeth could have.

Jude even liked the way she was dressed. The high-necked checked blouse and tonal monochromatic skirt that had become all the rage in the Federation lately was very flattering on her well-proportioned figure.

Pearl earrings jingled in her earlobes as she made her way back to the kitchen, light brown strands of hair falling gently from the nape of her neck.

“She's very peculiar, if you look closely. In some ways she's just a commoner, but in other ways she's a noblewoman from the mainland, and according to the president of the merchants' guild there, she never talks about her personal life, so I'm guessing her family has fallen, or she's involved in crime, or something.”

True to his father's words, the woman was very striking. It wasn't just her looks, but the way she spoke and the smallest gestures that suggested she was well educated.

“From what people around her said, she was surprisingly intelligent and stubborn. You shouldn't look down on her because she's a woman.”

Jude's eyes scanned her once more. It wasn't love at first sight, or even a rational attraction; he'd blocked that kind of curiosity out of his mind.

"What is it?"

A large figure suddenly stopped in front of him. Jude looked up, startled.

A man stared down at him with his arms crossed, a young man with broad shoulders that could only be described as 'towering'.

His muscular forearms, darkly muscled beneath his rolled-up sleeves, showed that he could easily overpower a dwarf like him.

"What's going on?"

There was a hint of wariness in his voice when he asked again.

"Oh, no, no...."

Jude shrunk unnecessarily and sat down in the empty seat that had just opened up.

The man shot Jude one more sharp look, then turned and walked away, heading for the kitchen where the woman was.

Resisting the urge to observe her a little longer, Jude turned his attention to the sugar jar on the table, fiddling with the lid, waiting for a little more time to pass.

After a few moments, his gaze drifted back to the kitchen.

The woman was making a pot of tea. Her hand was hovering over the teapot, as if testing the temperature of the water, and next to her was the man from earlier. With one hand on the cupboard, he leaned toward her and whispered something. She burst out laughing.

Yes, that's right.

Jude was sure now.

That must be Noah Miller, the owner of this place. And that woman must be Dana Miller, his wife.

******

"Master."

Theodore, who had finished buttoning his sleeves, looked up from the items on the table. Tilly handed him the papers, hiding his anxiety.

Theodore perched on the corner of the desk and opened the envelope. As he flipped through each page, his eyes seemed calm and impassive. But the maddening tenacity that burned within them was probably only visible to Tilly.

Half a year ago, he had disappointed and shocked everyone with his weak appearance under the influence of alcohol and drugs.

Perhaps the only one who understood him was Tilly himself. He had to. He would have done the same thing.

It was probably for the best. He believed that after hitting rock bottom his master would move on and start anew.

He had seen him closely enough to know that his master never crossed the line. He was the heir to the Macmilan name to the bone. He would never allow himself to become a junkie.

But when the Master stepped out again after a long silence, Tilly realized that he had been wrong in a crucial respect, and a feeling of dread, bordering on terror, came over him.

His shaky eyes turned back to the open box. His heart was beating uneasily, but for a very different reason than the Duke and Duchess of Macmilan.

Contrary to what they had thought, it had been exactly half a year ago that the Master had first taken the gun out.

"What would happen to a woman if her husband suddenly died? The man she trusted enough to drop everything and run away with?"

"She'd probably never forget him, miss him to her bones, and die with him?"

Tilly remembered the look in his master’s eyes as he said that. It was that of a man ready, willing, and able to fall to his death.

"I beg you, please, do not forget."

He could only repeat the same words whenever the Master's eyes burned so insistently.

"You promised me, didn't you, that there would be no bloodshed, and I'm counting on that word alone."

Theodore looked up from his papers to face Tilly.

The killing intent from before was gone, but there was a coldness in his eyes that said, I don't care what you do or don't do.

"Master, please...."

Theodore turned his attention back to the papers. Tilly could feel the precision and carefulness in his master’s eyes as he read over every word, double-checking what he had seen.

Yes, everything would go according to the plan in that document. It had to go smoothly, without a single deviation.

It had to be.

***

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