Night of Eden 93

 Chapter 93

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That night and the next day, Dana's heart was racing, and she found it hard to focus on her work all day.

How could this happen after hearing his name?

She thought she was over him, but she wasn't. She thought three years was long, but it was short.

What would her life have been like if she hadn't run away that day?

That stupid question stuck in her head the whole time.

What if she had woken up in that man's arms?

Perhaps they would have traveled together. Perhaps they would have made it all the way to the Federation.

Perhaps they would have watched the sun rise over the roof of the Lewis train station, marveling at how big the world was.

They would probably have tea together. She would have sipped it, savoring the taste and flavor, and he, being  picky that he was, would have taken a sip and left the rest.

Dana couldn't believe she was imagining something so sweet.

She tried to shake off the bizarre fantasy, but her mind raced like a runaway train.

Or perhaps he had never broken off the engagement with Lady Liana. Dana might have been left alone in the castle called Kreutz, miserable and lonely.

No.

Dana shook her head abruptly.

No, that wouldn't have happened.

She knew herself well enough.

Though she had found pleasure in the man's arms, it was nothing so great as to throw off her conscience, and if he hadn't ended up marrying the young lady, she would have left either way.

This fanciful fantasy continued until well past noon. Unusually for the day, there were no customers, and Tony Scott was the only one occupying a table.

"Hello, Mrs. Miller, how was business today?"

"So-so."

Dana replied, her sight and hearing not reaching her brain at all.

"I'm sure Mr. Miller is hard at work on the farm right now, and it must be very sad and lonely for the good couple to be apart."

Muttering to himself, he suddenly glanced at Rachel.

“You too should quickly meet a good man and get married.”

Dana let it slip by her ear, and Rachel turned around and frowned.

"Women are fragile glass beads and need to be protected by a man. Alas. God does not approve of a woman running around unmarried."

He spoke with determination, then glanced back at Dana.

"By the way, I hope you're ready for this Saturday?"

Dana nodded, a beat too late.

"Well, I'd prefer not to have any messy morning guests that day, but if you're the kind of person you are, I'll lock the door."

He placed a hand on his bulging belly.

"Please also replenish the tea leaves for that tea or something. I'll pay any price for tea, but I want the finest."

Tony Scott didn't return until after dinner.

Dana was still in a daze. With no work in hand and no customers anyway, she sent Mick home first.

Only Rachel, who had taken up residence on the second floor, stayed with her in the deserted tearoom.

The sky was slowly turning pink. The gas lamps were lit, and the number of people and carriages on the streets thinned. The dark clouds that had been forming one by one earlier had now covered the entire sky.

Raindrops scattered, then began to thicken.

"It looks like it's going to rain hard!"

Rachel rushed out of the store, pulling the awning wide open.

True to her word, the rain quickly turned violent.

It was pitch black everywhere. Dana turned up the gas light and waited for the customer who never came.

Rachel looked out of the corner of her eye and reached into her bag. Realizing what she wanted, Dana nodded.

"It's okay."

"Thank you."

Rachel pulled the knitting out of her bag.

Dana stared at the two long wooden needles as they moved back and forth, measuring the yarn. She'd been doing this for a while, and suddenly she realized she shouldn't stay like this forever.

Mr. Scott has asked her to do something, and she needed to check the tea leaves first. She also needed to make sure there was no spoiled milk. Oh, and did Mick take out the trash?

Dana headed for the kitchen, her mind racing.

She wanted to make a cup of tea first. And since they were having company, she might as well check out Celeste's recipe.

A few minutes later, Dana stood with a steaming mug of tea.

"Rachel, would you like a cup...."

As Dana walked out with her mug, she paused.

She could see a human figure through the rain dripping from the awning.

A man was walking toward her. Someone was behind him, holding up an umbrella.

It was a scene she hadn't seen since living in the Commonwealth. Here, no matter how rich or poor you are, you hold your own umbrella.

She had only seen that in Belvida. .......

Dana's pulse quickened, just as it had when she found the newspaper.

The person’s build and gait were strangely familiar. And they were definitely walking toward her shop. Through the stream of water running down the glass window, she realized that the other person was looking at her.

The man behind him, carrying an umbrella, was also vaguely familiar.

Her brow furrowed. Her pulse was already racing, and the hand holding the teacup was trembling inexplicably.

Before she knew it, the man was right in front of the door.

The umbrella was folded and the door opened.

Without a moment's delay, without warning.

Ding, ding, ding.

The bell rang like a scream.

Rachel put down her knitting and jumped to her feet.

"Welcome."

The man rushed inside.

Dana still thought it was a vision.

Crazy, it must be the newspaper.

She stared, frozen in place, as the other man approached, his rain-soaked shoes trudging across the floor.

It must have been the stranger's casual, unannounced entry into her home. Rachel, too, froze in place, blinking, as if she were terribly perplexed.

"Please."

Tilly peeled off his raincoat. Watching the water droplets splashing, Dana wondered why Tilly Bryson was here, how she could recognize him at a glance when he had changed so much.

The man in the dark blue suit, coat off, was looking straight at her.

He had been staring at her like that since he was outside.

He hadn't taken his eyes off her the entire time he'd been walking. His face became clearer and clearer in her blurry memory.

Dana couldn't help but let out a hollow laugh.

Was she dreaming?

"...Mrs. Miller... Mrs. Miller?"

Rachel leaned in closer to Dana, sensing something strange.

Yes, of course she would.

Anyone who met that man for the first time would be overwhelmed by his power.

Her spinning, dizzying vision flashed back to the day she'd first met Celeste.

Celeste had just finished shaving his face that day when he stood up and approached her like that. She was so frightened she couldn't breathe.

Just like then, the citrusy scent washed over her. With the familiar scent of shave, Dana slowly realized that this was not a dream, but a reality that had suddenly arrived.

Her breath caught.

Her head snapped up.

Turquoise eyes shone beautifully from beneath a well-groomed head of dark hair. The face of the man without a trace of age smiled down at her.

"Hello, Dana."

His voice was still deep and pleasant to listen to, the throat clearing that made it sound so good swayed gently.

Dana's legs buckled. Her whole body shivered, just like the day she'd gotten lost in the woods.

A shadowy figure loomed over her, the man with a pleasant scent. Dana stared at him, stunned.

No dream. No illusion. No hallucination.

"Long time no see."

The man's lips curled up at an angle, forming a smile she'd never seen before.

Dana's grip loosened completely.

Poof, the teacup shattered.

The tea spread rapidly in a circle between them, and across the puddle, Theodore strode.

Across the river of time that separated them, his eyes still the same as they'd been when he'd deliberately shattered the cobalt-colored porcelain, as if nothing had happened.

***

"Ma'am!"

Rachel let out a shrill scream.

"Please be careful. I'll clean it up right away."

Tilly Bryson's voice sounded vaguely distant. He could be seen vaguely as he approached her.

"Leave it, and take care of Mrs. Miller. Mrs. Miller seems to be much alarmed."

"What? Ah... Oh, yes!"

Then something touched her arm. It was Rachel's hand.

"There, ma'am, have a seat."

Dana staggered into the chair, letting her hand guide her. Theodore followed and stood opposite her. The chair slid back, his long body folded, and they were eye level.

Everything around them blurred, his face becoming clearer and clearer.

Something had changed in his hairstyle. It was a little shorter overall, the parting tilted more to one side, and the wispy bangs were damp from the rain. Beneath it, the smooth forehead and delicate throat were unchanged from three years ago.

Theodore was calm, and Dana was pale in his presence. Rachel stood frozen between them, unsure of what to do.

"Rachel."

Dana called out to her. Her voice sounded like it had been drained of its soul and didn't belong to her.

"Wait... Can you go upstairs?"

Rachel's eyes widened, probably because her boss looked like she'd just been confronted by a robber with a gun. Rachel couldn't help but pace.

"It's okay, I know him, I just need to talk to him alone."

Rachel fumbled for her bag and knitting.

"If something's wrong... Call me."

Reluctant steps led to the second floor.

Dana kept staring at him.

It didn't feel real at all. It was unbelievable to see, unbelievable to hear.

Theodore hadn't taken his eyes off her either.

His inscrutable green eyes slowly swept from her gracefully coiffed hair, down the cute bridge of her nose, across her sharp chin, and over her coral-colored lips.

He stared, and then suddenly the corners of his eyes curled into a smile.

"How are you?"

The unreality of the scene stunned Dana again.

"Why are you so surprised? I left you a trail."

A...trail?

She immediately thought of the newspaper.

It felt like someone had slapped her across the face. Her ear rang and her consciousness was sucked back into shock. Fear washed over her.

"...What...why..are you here?"

She asked, gasping for breath.

Instead of answering, Theodore leaned back and relaxed.

His eyelids blinked slowly.

Once, then another, then one last time.

Each time, his pupils took on a languid glow and his expression grew more unreadable.

That was Theodore Macmillan, she remembered exactly.

Dana had always been intimidated by him.

She would be speechless and flustered, and her face just turned red.

But three years was, in some ways, not a long time at all.

Life in a strange land had hardened Dana. From parsonage to farm to settling here in Biltrere, she had been called as many things as 'good' and 'naive' and 'stubborn' and 'strong-willed', but she had become much harder inside.

Dana gathered herself and opened her mouth once more.

"What is this ... why are you here?"

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