Chapter 356: Chapter 356

Miss Frida never asked what "that ritual" was. Sighing, she walked alongside Miss Bevanna, their feet treading over green leaves and tender grass as they made their way out of the vibrant forest.

The forest was sharply divided from the outside world. Snow and grass met at the valley's edge, each keeping to its own side without intrusion. It was a truly bizarre spectacle.

"The Middleton family line is coming to an end. Another ancient house, vanished forever. I suppose the blood of elven priests will never appear among humans again."

This was the cause of her lament.

"It's more than that," Miss Bevanna replied. "From a secular point of view, who knows what sort of trouble the end of the Fidektri Kingdom's legitimate royal line will cause. The king has already decided to grant the throne to that lucky foreigner."

Here, Miss Bevanna paused pointedly.

"Then again, perhaps there's an illegitimate royal child out there somewhere."

"Not in this generation or the last. That much was confirmed during the turmoil twelve years ago."

Miss Bevanna nodded at her words, letting the topic drop. Her thoughts drifted to a conversation from two months prior between Bishop Parrold and Robert Williams. It had been prompted by Jenkins's request for the Church to investigate how the Williams family had come into its wealth.

"Only a Sage could have written such an interesting script. It truly is..."

She smiled and shook her head, content to wait for fate to arrange the scenes for the players on its stage.

(Chocolate is napping...)

Though his studies and work at the antique shop left him exhausted, Jenkins hadn't forgotten his promise to Miss Mikhail to attend the seance game that evening.

When Jenkins had mentioned it to Papa Oliver, the old man had given him a strange look. He'd specifically asked if Hersha would be going as well, but according to Miss Mikhail, Hathaway was so strongly opposed to such activities that Briny hadn't even told her about it.

Upon hearing this, the way Papa Oliver sized him up grew even stranger, as if he were observing some rare and exotic creature.

Although the conversation had taken place just last week, the ceaseless repetition of the 31st made it feel like a distant memory, half a month old. Now, as he climbed into the carriage waiting outside the antique shop with Chocolate in his arms, the sight of Miss Mikhail's beautiful face brought him a welcome sense of calm.

After all, of his few friends, she was the only one who was an ordinary person—not an Enchanter.

Chocolate, of course, came along. Jenkins figured the cat's clingy personality was a result of him adopting it when it was just a tiny kitten. That, and his inexperience in caring for a cat back then, had made their bond unusually close.

Not that Jenkins disliked it one bit.

"It's been a while," Jenkins said. "You look lovely today."

Even though it was early winter, Miss Mikhail still wore a dress. It was clearly made of a thicker fabric, and one could tell just by looking how substantial the blue-laced garment was.

Over it, she wore a long, warm windbreaker, and underneath, a woolen jacket and a white embroidered sweater. Through the open collar of her coat, he could just glimpse the stylish collar of her blouse. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ɴovelfire.net

"Thank you for the compliment."

Miss Mikhail replied with a smile. No lady ever disliked such a compliment.

It was a line, in fact, that Hathaway had taught him, bit by bit, over the course of their friendship.

Neither of them had eaten dinner, as there would be a reception for all the guests before the game began. In the carriage, Miss Mikhail gave him a brief rundown of the evening's plans.

As it turned out, she wasn't the host. The game was being organized by a friend of hers, a Miss Lindsay.

"Lindsay? That's not a common surname. The only Lindsay I know of is the Speaker of the Kingdom's Upper House."

"That's right. Laurel Lindsay is the Speaker's third granddaughter. Her father may only be an unremarkable viscount, but Laurel is dearly loved by Duke Lindsay."

In the eyes of a true aristocrat like Miss Mikhail, the title of viscount was indeed "unremarkable," especially for those who had no personal merit and relied solely on their station.

Miss Laurel Lindsay had acquired her Ouija board—an identical model—from a secondhand shop on Miss Mikhail's recommendation. In fact, many of their friends had purchased the very same item from that store.

Afterward, whether out of sheer boredom or genuine curiosity, Miss Lindsay had organized this seance. As a close friend, Miss Mikhail was naturally invited, and Jenkins's role was to be her escort.

At the parties and salons hosted by unmarried ladies, a handsome escort was considered as essential an accessory as a piece of fine jewelry.

This wasn't merely a matter of childish competition; sometimes, far more complex issues were at stake.

All of this, Jenkins had recently learned from reading court novels. The thought reaffirmed his belief that the Church was absolutely right to make aristocratic etiquette one of its first required courses.

"I should probably go see the Bishop soon and ask when those classes start," he thought.

Since he had come straight from work, Jenkins was still in his durable, dirt-resistant black attire.

He mentioned that he wanted to go home and change, but Miss Mikhail simply smiled at him.

"That's quite all right. The venue for tonight's game is rather unusual, so we won't need formal attire. Everyday clothes will be fine," she said. "And I must say, Mr. Williams, that outfit makes you look quite a bit younger."

Jenkins immediately fell silent, afraid she might realize his "youthfulness" wasn't just an appearance.

Thanks to the previous day's heavy snowfall, the entire city was cloaked in silver. But it was still only November, and this was the coastal city of Nolan, not Ruen in the far north. By evening, the snow had already begun to show signs of melting.

Gazing at the snow outside, Jenkins steered the conversation to a new topic: the famous author's new book, "A Tale of Ice and Snow."

This gave him a new idea. If the advent ritual was a two-way street, he could simply travel to Ruen and observe the kingdom of ice and snow firsthand.

The book itself was actually finished; it just needed a few final touches from Jenkins before going to the publisher. It was also the last major source of income he'd planned on for the year.

Vegetable prices soared in the winter, and even getting one's hands on a bit of meat was a challenge. Although Jenkins had followed Mary Williams's advice and stockpiled a large supply of easily preserved vegetables at the end of autumn, he really didn't want to spend the entire winter subsisting on them.

Over the past few months, he had become keenly aware of the era's inconveniences, but it was only recently that he'd realized the winter diet was the most unbearable part of it all.