Chapter 415: Chapter 415

The VIP carriage Jenkins occupied had five compartments, and his was number one. The car was flanked by a dedicated dining room, lounge, and smoking room. Jenkins had already met the other passengers at lunch; they were all, like him, headed for Bel Diran.

Knowing in advance that he had bodyguards traveling incognito, he had spent his lunch subtly studying the others, trying to guess which of the two men and two women were assigned to protect him.

The compartment was well-appointed enough, furnished with a table, a low bed, and a small wardrobe. Jenkins spent the entire day there, reading, only leaving for lunch and dinner. Chocolate seemed fascinated by the steam train, but Jenkins, worried the cat might wander off, kept it inside the compartment.

By afternoon, the cat had thoroughly given up. It settled onto the windowsill, listlessly watching the wild fields speed past the window. Occasionally, it would turn and paw at the manuscript for "The Tale of Ice and Snow" scattered across the low bed—in truth, it was trying to sneak a peek.

After dinner had come and gone, Jenkins once again politely declined an invitation from two gentlemen to play cards and made his way back to his compartment, teacup in hand.

He settled the well-fed and very content Chocolate onto his lap, leaned back comfortably against the headboard, and projected his consciousness to Ruen.

He found himself in the same intimidatingly large living room, standing in the exact same spot as before. The only difference was that night had now completely fallen over Ruen.

Miss Miller offered a faint smile when Jenkins appeared, but she quickly pressed a finger to her lips, signaling for him to remain silent. Both Jenkins's and Chocolate's ears twitched in unison as they caught the sound of footsteps approaching the door.

"Miss Miller... Oh, Mr. Pollo, you're here as well. I didn't see you a moment ago?"

Julia wore her familiar maid's uniform, but Miss Stuart was dressed in what was, even to a modern eye, a very fashionable high-waisted gown. It was adorned with lace frills and ruffles, with a large bow tied at her waist and a delicate layer of tulle over the skirt.

Jenkins couldn't fathom wearing something so light in this weather.

Still, he recalled the bit of social coaching Hathaway had once given him. If you found yourself needing to make conversation with a lady to prevent an awkward silence, the safest course of action was always the same:

"That is a truly beautiful dress. I imagine it must have been hand-stitched by a master artisan?"

"Do you really think so? It was made by Mrs. Stephanie at Ofanli's Fashions, though Julia was the one who added the petticoat for me."

Beaming, she took a seat in another chair, and Julia moved to stand naturally behind her, a hand resting on the chair back.

"Just as I thought. A compliment on their clothes never fails to please a lady."

Jenkins thought to himself, then glanced at Miss Miller, waiting for her to initiate the topic of discussion.

During his last, hurried projection to Ruen to confirm his safety, Miss Miller had briefly filled him in on the situation. She had managed to earn Miss Stuart's initial trust and had even been invited to a local gathering of Enchanters.

Meanwhile, the investigation into "Mr. Pollo" had, predictably, gone nowhere. Miss Miller could sense that she and her associates were under surveillance, so she had been dutifully playing her part in the charade.

"Since you're a friend of Miss Miller's, Mr. Pollo, does that mean you also know a Mr. Williams?" Miss Stuart began.

"Yes, I know him quite well. A remarkably talented man."

And that, at least, was no lie.

"Then could you please tell me a bit about him? What sort of man is Mr. Williams? I'm his pen pal, you see, but I know next to nothing about this incredibly talented gentleman."

Her delicate brows furrowed, perfectly conveying her troubled curiosity.

"Oh, of course. Not a problem at all."

Noticing that Miss Miller was observing their exchange with a persistent smile, Jenkins cleared his throat and began his "introduction":

"My... my friend, Jenkins Williams, that is... he's an exceptionally boring fellow. The kind of man ladies find utterly tiresome, I'd imagine—not a romantic bone in his body. He works in an antique shop, you see. An apprentice, yes. And even though his writing brings in a respectable income, he's still obsessed with all that old junk.

I believe I met him near the end of this past summer, right around when he started writing that collection of stories. Heh. I offered him plenty of my own feedback and suggestions, but the man always claimed my perspective was too narrow and insisted on having others review his manuscripts. Dıscover more novels at NoveIꜰire.net

He's an incredibly stubborn, old-fashioned man who despises any disruption to his routine. He also keeps a cat, much like myself..."

Chocolate glanced up at Jenkins.

"But when it comes to that cat... ladies, I've honestly never met anyone who keeps a pet like he does. It's not cruelty, not exactly, but he's perpetually convinced the cat eats far too much. The last I heard, he was preparing to put the poor thing on a diet."

If Jenkins hadn't been pressing down firmly on Chocolate, the cat would have undoubtedly bolted. As it was, a menacing rumble started deep in its throat.

"Is Mr. Williams married? I imagine a gentleman of his talent and ambition must have plenty of admirers."

Miss Stuart's face was alight with curiosity, and she leaned forward ever so slightly.

The corner of Julia's mouth twitched. She moved her hand from the back of the chair and gave her mistress a gentle tap on the back.

"Ha! Married? That fellow? He's the type who cares for absolutely nothing besides his work and his studies."

At that, even Miss Miller's placid expression wavered. She was dying to ask, "You're self-aware enough to know that?" but had to swallow the words. The restraint was almost painful.

Jenkins gestured with his right hand as he continued:

"Please, don't get the wrong idea. There's nothing wrong with his health, physical or otherwise. He simply hasn't met the right person. He works and studies so hard now only so that he might have a better life in the future..."

"A very responsible man," Miss Stuart commented.

He blinked, a faint blush rising to his cheeks at her comment.

Even Jenkins could see it now: the young princess held an almost fanatical admiration for her faraway pen pal. To put it in perspective, it was much like the adoration lavished upon the actors of an opera troupe.

He couldn't fathom how a mere handful of letters could inspire such devotion in a princess, and could only marvel at the strange ways of the world.