After a successful first contact with the so-called ‘Universal Genius’, the Konigsmahne heiress aimed to find a private place where she could write a telegram, perhaps one of those opera boxes would do, then after that’s done, head to the post office to send it. According to her deductions, she could accomplish all of these while still having enough time to return to the ball before the feast period is over. Indeed, rather than spend her time here doing nothing useful now that her goal was accomplished, she might as well use the hours for something worthwhile.
The silver-haired young girl lived each day according to a predefined mental schedule and any deviation from said schedule would be considered wasted time, this was how she dealt with life and it brought her a sense of stability and order in an otherwise chaotically abstract universe. Her peers might judge her as being humorless and boring, but let the dogs bark for they knew not the lion’s burden.
However, despite all of her special gifts and quirks, Lucy was still a human like any other, her body wasn’t altered in any way unlike egoists and thus, when the sudden shifts of luminosity from the bulbs up above were reflected on her retinae, she instinctively tilted her gaze up out of instinctual curiosity. How peculiar… was this intentional?
”Nnngh…” Then the light grew much too bright for comfort, prompting her eyelids to close, shielding the Deutschscion’s most valuable sensory organs, while one of her hands as it went up to perch on her forehead. This happened in nigh-perfect sync with the faulty lightbulb’s shattering demise as its transparent shards rained down upon the thirteen-year-old.
Alas, if only Schwarzritter was one of those fabled automata, it could’ve taken the initiative to protect its charge like a knight should, but as it stood, twas’ merely an extension of Lucretia’s will and a limb is only as good as its wielder.
What was wrong with that girl? Did she have some sort of agenda? Was there a target of some sort on his back? Kalil fidgeted with his pipe, side-eyeing the other polymaths around him. His certain criminal connections were not widely known, not many peered into the internal affairs of the Mughals, as secretive as they were. As far as anyone should know, he was merely the genius son of a far off eastern merchant. Could any of these other “children” carry an agenda of their own? Spies, criminals, murderers?
The merchant scion gripped his pipe tighter and breathed out, releasing the air he did not realise he was holding. If he was to stress like this every time a female cornered him, he would have grey hairs at 20. He needed to take his own advice and relax. Once an (in)sufficient amount of space and people were put between him and the madwoman, he began his search for his target. But this only set his thoughts aflame.
What was the point of him, a lowly merchant’s son, going for an Occidental noble’s daughter? What were the Bengals playing at? The brand on his chest itched at the thought. A reminder of Kalil’s debt and the futility of his thinking. No use wondering, only act. As is duty.
The lights flickered and the boy looked up on instinct, perceiving the formulae which struck across the air. Crackling but subdued. Thunder but no lightning. Eyes narrowed as an aberration of his own abilities had propelled itself across the room. This place was only getting stranger.
But before Kalil could cast his eyes on the culprit, glass bulged and shattered, hot metal pieces raining from the sky. A person underneath the broken bulb, back turned towards him. He lunged, arms reaching towards the silver-haired girl in a natural panic. His heart hammered in his ear as he kept his left arm shielding from the shards above, his right scooping the surprisingly heavy girl under him. But as soon as the moment came, it ended.
The young Bengal found himself staring at emerald eyes, the very same he was searching for. Well, this was convenient. Crimson liquid splashed down on her cheek and he wiped it away instinctively, eyebrows furrowed at the sight. He glanced down at his still raised shield, a rip down his white sleeves revealing a savage cut on his forearm.
Kalil snorted before the pain hit.
”Well, this wasn’t how I imagined I’d meet you, Ms. Konigsmahne.” At least he avoided butchering her last name.
For someone so naturally adept at crafting artificial tools, Lucretia’s body was as natural as a human could be, no cybernetic limbs like Bang, nor biomass modifications of Egoists. As far as her physical existence went, she really was just a 13-year-old German girl, one who was firmly on the smaller side of build too. Thus, the error fully lied on Kalil’s side when he misjudged her weight.
Perhaps twas’ a clue that his strength wasn’t as it’s supposed to be for someone his size due to all the opium he smoked? Perhaps the Bengal did something to make sure he remained a harmless tiger cub? Or perhaps it really was an honest mistake made in the heat of the moment? Regardless, for this split-second moment of danger, one couldn’t exactly afford to care about an irrelevant thing such as a young lady’s weight.
”...wha-?!” An honestly adorable yelp came from the usually-stoic girl when she found her feet suddenly being lifted off the hall floor, and in that sudden moment, her fight or flight instinct took over higher forms of thought.
”Schwarzritter, aktiviere!” The command was enunciated and it took the record of the loudest Lucy had been since she arrived here at Bermuda.
Upon the soundwave of its mistress’ voice reaching its audio receiver module, the metal “backpack'' floating beside the pair lit up with a rather ominous pale blue glow, pulsating light in the shape of a circle, then within the span of a few seconds, the thing unraveled itself via the Formulization functions already installed, copper veins gave life to the metallic construct as it transformed into a floating T-shaped drone a little more than twice Lucretia’s height, its shadow looming ominously over the Flametouched Virtuoso. Schwarzritter, Lucretia von Konigsmahne’s masterwork and personal guardian, in the ‘flesh’.
Normally, its mistress would immediately issue further commands, but this time, nothing came. It was left floating there like a silent observer, perhaps wondering just why it was so.
Of course, the answer lied with the aforementioned mistress.
”...e-... eh?” Emerald eyes blinked with creeping realization that her “assailant” wasn’t intending to harm her. He… was a fellow student it seemed, his features and turban screamed Mughal, and he knew her name, well… to be fair many people did, but it still didn’t answer the question just why he invaded her personal spac-
-by the Kaiser, he was
bleeding!”E… eeeh…? Ah… uhm…! Now finding herself in a completely ‘unplanned’ encounter and situation, Lucretia’s composure broke down as she was left stammering like a deer in headlights, the rapid shifts of her gaze repeating between Kalil’s face and his injured arm said enough. Why did he suddenly scoop her up? Why is he bleeding? Just
what is going on?!
So many unanswered questions, so many uncertainties, she didn’t like this, not one bit, she wanted to return to a safe place, where order was maintained in a stable environment.
Chaos seemed to surround the merchant heir wherever he went. From Abya Yala to Dhaka to even here in Bermuda, trouble seemed to follow in his shadow. It was like a constant joke was being played on him and the people surrounding him. At this point, it was a wonder his lungs hadn’t clogged with the amount of nicotine and drugs he’d consumed to cope with it all.
But throbbing pain was nothing Kalil wasn’t used to. Unlike a currently panicking noble’s daughter, he had not been coddled even as a merchant’s son. As far as he was concerned, ‘tis but a mere scratch compared to the beating and branding he’d undergone. It would leave nothing but a small, faint scar.
Kalil stood straight, gently letting go of the girl in his arm. He noted the large floating metallic being near them which unfurled itself on Konigsmahne’s command. A frightening beast for sure. Perhaps this was were the riches were?
He mentally shrugged, ripping the bloody, torn sleeve away and wrapping it tightly around the cut to form a makeshift bandage. Such a waste of cloth but it was unlike this was coming from his own pockets. The Bengals paid for these clothes, as much as an object owned by them as he was. Once satisfied that blood would not drip-drop on the floor, he surveyed his surroundings.
It seems as though he had gathered an audience from his stunt. Unfortunate. Seems they’ll have to make a quick escape if he wanted to talk with her alone. He outstretched his hand and offered a reassuring smile.
”It seems as though it is raining with hot glass tonight, Ms. Konigsmahne,” Kalil started,
”fortunate that I was there to take a blow for you, yes? It wouldn’t do for a pretty face like yours to lose an eye from such a thing. But alas, I wished to converse with you beforehand. Perhaps we can continue this somewhere more private? You do owe me at least a conversation, no?” He jokingly pointed at his bloodied arm, some more crimson staining the white fabric.
”Uh...” It became apparent that the silver-haired girl couldn’t function well in sudden unfamiliar situations as she simply stared in silence after Kalil put her down, though her eyes were focused at the wound on his forearm, she otherwise kept still. It wasn’t like she couldn’t comprehend the notion of someone being injured, but considering the circumstances, a student suddenly scooping her from behind and then getting injured? The chain of events didn’t make sense at all, there
must be something she missed here.
The gears of her mind turned, coming up with various hypotheses in order to make sense of things, to bring order to the chaos, if she could connect the dots then she could be at peace. Yes, this was of utmost importance.
”That bright light... a short-circuit in the electrical conduits? Short-circuit... that led to... oh.” A figurative lightbulb shone above her head, a perfectly functioning one unlike the one responsible for drawing Kalil’s blood.
Yes, it made sense now, a glass bulb shattered above her due to voltage overload caused by a fault in the wired network, then those shattered pieces of glass rained down upon her. She didn’t notice this, but this Mughalman did and he took it upon himself to shield her from harm at the expense of his own safety, explaining the invasion of personal space. He wasn’t an assailant, no, he was her
saviour.She knew what must be done.
Kalil could now see the composure returning to the petite girl’s face, no longer were her gasping breaths audible and no longer her eyes shifted from place to place, focused and direct just like when he observed her earlier.
”Schwarzritter, zurückkehren.” Upon her voice command, the iron construct ran one of its many installed formulizations to fold itself and within a few seconds, it became no more than a floating object in the shape of a backpack. With that done, she finally addressed the taller student, in Latin, the lingua franca of the academia,
”No, good sir, I certainly owe you more than a simple conversation.” She declared as she accepted his outstretched hand, shaking it, her eyes again returning to the covered wound on his arm,
”Our first priority is to go to the nearest infirmary to properly treat your injury, lest you run the risk of an infection. Anything else can wait, but rest assured, I will adhere to your request.” She didn’t even wait for him to reply as she began leading him by his - uninjured - hand, out of the Hall of the Greats and toward the aforementioned infirmary, it seemed she had already memorized the route.
It might come to Kalil that the noble girl didn’t recognize him and never asked for his name, but as she said, anything else could wait, including introductions.
Even the best cunning merchant could not take a Konigsmahne woman from her set path. And thus the duo found themselves in the infirmary where a stern-looking nurse awaited. She took one look at Kalil’s bleeding arm and muttered about how idiotic some geniuses could be. Explaining the situation as much as he could but the fading adrenaline meant Lucretia had to fill in with what she knew (which was little).
They found themselves in silence after the nurse had finished disinfecting and wrapping fresh bandages around Kalil’s wound. The Mughal man rested his head on the pillow, occasionally glancing at the girl sitting beside him. They were alone in the infirmary, accompanied only by moonlight and the slow ticking of a clock.
Now that they are here together, what to do now? “You know what to do”? Bloody Bengals. Why give such vague instructions?
Kalil came to a sudden realisation throughout all this that he did
not have a plan. Despite all his ability to “charm”, how does one charm what amounts to barely a teenager? He sat up, despite protests from his companion, facing the girl with a deep focus from his golden brown eyes. They pierced and struck, looking deeply into emerald orbs to search for answers. The same expression of a polymath figuring out complex equations, trying to find the lay of the world. Gears turned, seconds passed like hours, but he could find no answer. Nothing which did not sicken him to his core at least.
Criminal he may now be but that was only by association. By Allah he would not lower himself to scum. Kalil merely sighed, closing his eyes briefly to rest his mind. He extended his two hands in front of him, grasping the formulae which surrounded them.
”A little formula play to dismiss untoward listeners.” he quipped, most of the air circulating around the pair instead of outwards. It would last but a minute or two but would nullify most of the frequencies of his voice. Any listeners, even the nurse, would only hear muffled words from his own.
”I must confess, Ms. Lucretia Konigsmahne, that I sought you out due to your hallowed surname. Even in the depths of the Mughal Empire where I hail, I hear of the genius and wonder of your house. Your house’s creations and expert technologism is proven even in the youngest child, with your expertly made contraption over there.” Kalil gestured to the floating Schwarzitter, chuckling a little to himself as he did so. There were geniuses above geniuses after all.
”Ah, despite my label as a “genius” I am afraid I could never hope to replicate such a marvelous creation. But alas, I chatter too much. Forgive me, an old habit of my father’s mercantile ways.” The adopted heir grabbed Lucy’s hands in his own, breathing deeply. This was for his father. Swallow your pride for your father.
”I, Kalil Gharbi, heir of the Dhaka Trading Company, one of the largest in the lands under the purview of Shah Jahan, have come here seeking an ally. We seek inroads within the Occident, to facilitate trade of rich spices, textiles and silks. My father and his associates have sent me here as a way to skip over the Ottomans growing fat from the taxes on trade routes. I have been sent here to enrich the coffers of my betters through charm and wit.”Come on, Kalil, half-truths mixed with lies. You must get through to the end. He spoke with melancholy and guilt, his grip tightening with shaky breaths. The heaviness in his shoulders could not be faked.
”But what I see in front of me is not someone to be charmed or outwitted. Alas, having seen your creation, I see a girl coming into being, someone I must admit to be better than a lowly merchant’s son like myself. I cannot ask of you, a lady of higher intellect and kindness than myself, for the sum I was tasked to fool out of you. A sum needed to fund our ventures to the Occident, an investment as part of our deal, to enrich both mine and yours for future expeditions. But alas, I was sent to find a greater sum than needed, as forced by my father’s associates.”The final crescendo. You must sell this like you mean it. He dropped to his knees, head bowed with Lucretia’s hands still clasped in his.
”I must ask for forgiveness, my lady. Forgiveness for my missteps and planned deceit. I realise that I cannot, with full heart, cheat you of the investment that was needed. I will return to my father after this year as a failure, instead of deceiving a kindly, intelligent lady as yourself.”He kept the tears from dropping. Allah forgive his lies for he is tormented by his actions.
With the combination of Lucy's single-tracked mind and extraordinary capability to retain information, it didn't take long for the pair to arrive at one of the campus ground's infirmaries, the nearest one to the Hall of the Greats to be specific. The no-nonsense nurse immediately went to work, professionally removing Kalil's makeshift 'bandage', cleaning and disinfecting his wound, before finally rewrapping the wound in
real bandages this time around. That done, she assigned one of the vacant beds for him to rest, although with this kind of minor injury, he should be allowed to leave whenever he wished.
But of course Kalil wouldn't leave just yet, for this was the perfect chance to get an audience with one of the Konigsmahne, a noble house known to be notoriously difficult to appoint with if one didn't have friends in the high places.
As for Lucretia, the silver-haired girl normally would be taking her leave now as she was confident that the tanned student would be doing just fine, she still had a letter to write, things to report, and a ball to attend after all. If the circumstances were different, such as her finding Kalil already bleeding, she'd still help him get to the medical ward, but would have no issues to just hand him over to a nurse before leaving, not even introductions would be necessary, he was an injured stranger whom she helped and that'd be the end of it.
However, she didn't feel like leaving this time, perhaps beneath all the insensitively stoic exterior, the young prodigy had the capacity for empathy, even though she had difficulties expressing it herself. He had saved her from possible grievous harm, a spontaneous decision made without prior arrangements, he wasn't one of her family's bodyguards, he's just a stranger who happened to attend the same school as she, one of the two thousand Polymaths. Yet despite all that, he put himself in harm's way for her. This selfless act deserved recognition and she was the one who'd be most responsible to grant it.
Besides, she promised him a conversation and a Konigsmahne's word actually meant something.
The quiet infirmary under the moonlight of the evening sky provided the perfect atmosphere to have a private talk where each and every word would be heard, free from the ambient noises of a lively party and an automated brass orchestra.
While Kalil gathered his thoughts, Lucy decided to tinker with the backpack-formed Schwarzritter, ever the workaholic savant she was. This way, she could wait until he was ready while also doing something useful. Waiting for its own sake wasn't an ideal situation to be in for one such as herself.
His sigh prompted her to look up from her construct as her eyes focused on his face. She blinked once in curiosity when he declared his intention to formulize... the air?
"Formulization of the intangible... hmmm... so he's a Dynamist." She concurred, an elementary-level deduction.
"But for what reason? Oh, of course, privacy." Asking the nurse to leave her post would be unreasonable after all, another elementary deduction, solved.
With Lucy already planning to listen, she was all ears when Kalil continued speaking. So, even before he took the plunge to shield her from the raining glass, he was already intending to meet her and it was a pleasant coincidence that he saved the person he wanted to talk to.
"So that's why he requested to privately converse after knowing who I am... Then indeed, humoring him was the least she could do.
"..." When Kalil praised Schwarzritter, the younger student had a visible reaction, subtle it might be, the secluded nature of the infirmary meant it was clear to someone as sharp as him. The corners of Lucretia's lips curled into a small proud smirk as her left hand moved to pet the floating contraption as if it was a beloved canine companion, it's clear that she had emotional attachments to the drone.
She continued listening, uttering no words of her own so he could take center stage. It seemed he really admired her family a lot, despite coming from the Orient, rather unexpected and just made Lucy realize just how famous her family is, beyond what she expected them to be. Her eyes widened a bit when he held her hands, but then relaxed not even a second later, her rational mind reminding her that this foreign student held no ill will toward her, and perhaps, physical contact among acquaintances was part of his culture, just as it was for the Italians.
He finally introduced himself, Kalil Gharbi of the Dhaka Trading Company, hailing from the Mughal Empire, an Orient sovereign nation under the rule of Shah Jahan. To be honest, she never heard of him personally, but it wouldn't take a genius to see that he came from a prestigious merchant-prince background. So, he's seeking an alliance... just as she intended to ally Herr Steiner, perhaps? Although conceptually similar, the details were different, he wanted to expand his company's business into the Occident, without having to bow to the Ottoman Sultan, cut off the middle man so to speak.
That seemed reasonable enough, Lucy thought, of course a merchant-prince would want to expand his family's business, and if he was looking to expand into the Occident, then gaining the alliance of her house was the logical move. After all, the Konigsmahne held a significant amount of political power in the Iron Sentinel Empire, and Germany was considered the ubiquitous 'leader' of the Occidents for centuries now. However, this still didn't explain why he seemed so desperate, perhaps he would explain it in due time.
Her prediction proved true as he expressed that he was supposed to... gain a significant amount of funds out of the deal?
"...?" She didn't want to offend, but it seemed he was making a huge deal out of... nothing really, it was public secret that in most - if not
all - business deals, each party would try to leverage one another for their own interests, until an equilibrium was reached, it's a simple matter of reaching that sweet spot where both parties would benefit the most. She wasn't a businessman and even she knew that, it's among the very basic principles of economics.
As such, while Lucretia understood what he wanted, she couldn't comprehend why he needed to be so dramatic about it, going as far as kneeling and bowing as if he had murdered someone she loved. She... honestly didn't know how to tell him that it wasn't necessary. If he wanted to talk about a business, why didn't he just do it like normal? Take her talk with Franz for example, a simple introduction, discuss the terms of the deal, then shake hands in agreement, done. Was this... part of Mughal culture?
"I... don't really know what to say to that because as far I am concerned, you're someone who wants to discuss business with my family, representing your own family company. How can that be deceit? Of course enterprises will try to leverage as much advantage as they can in a deal, but only when that balance is struck, the deal can be signed. You are acting as if you had just committed high treason against me, if this is how the Mughals do business, then I'm wholly unfamiliar with such methods." She answered matter-of-factly, with a tone so stoic that one could mistake her for an automated voice box. She didn't urge him to stand up or release her hands, figuring he would have the common sense to realize that this melodramatic display couldn't achieve anything useful.
"So, for our mutual benefit, please rephrase your words in a clear, concise manner. I have things I must do and a ball to attend, Mr. Gharbi."
Well. Wasn’t she forward? To a boy used to the Mughal courts and trade, where flattery and drama reigns, such forward talk almost put Kalil off balance. German efficiency huh? He shook himself out of it. Well, he was getting the ins the Bengals wanted wasn’t he? He straightened his back, coughing into his hand to hide his not-so small embarrassment.
”Ah, well, the ways of the Orient are different from the Occident.” He could never recall how many lies and begging merchants he’d seen before.
”Let me be frank then, if I am so bold to take your words as an indication of wanting business. With an investment, lower than what I had been told to gather, you will be funding a direct trading expedition from the heart of the Mughal Empire into the Occident. In exchange for your investment, your house will gain a share of the profit from the sale of spices, silks and textiles, all greatly sought after in your lands. I will ensure that you personally give fair investment and receive a fair return. As for the methods in which our trading company will use to circumvent the Ottomans, certain native contacts will help in doing so.”The mercantile prince had already thought over this offer in his head. A dimwit his father did not raise. Gather a sum, enough to pay his interest for this month and the next few. The Bengals could then invest within a black market shipment of goods using the gathered sums to get through Istanbul, using their own underground allies there to sneak the cargo to other fleets on a return trip back to Germany. Use the corruption within the Ottomans against them, pay off some dock officers and tax officials and you are good to go. Even now he could remember the exact amount of rupees needed for an Ottoman dock officer to “accidentally” stamp goods with an official seal and turn a blind eye. Mix it with a regular shipment of the same goods and most won’t notice an increase if spread across several fleets.
Upon entrance into Germany, it would be distributed and sold as normal legal goods at exorbitant prices. Kalil had hoped to win some sympathy with his pity plea but straight business could work too. Even if one shipment was somehow “caught”, there would be several others distributed across other trade fleets to be sold as well. Spread illegal additions out across several fleets and it would take a wider crackdown on shipping to catch such an increase.
Kalil stood, brushing off his pants and bowing slightly in apology.
”Perhaps if I was direct at the start, I would have been more successful. But alas, I understand that such decisions cannot be made in one night. I will await your response by the end of the month.” His sudden transition from weeping boy to sharp businessman could be confusing to some but this was the way of the merchant. Adapt and overcome while confusing your would-be client. But maybe his most confusing move would come next, at least for Lucretia.
”Perhaps we can be business partners and friends, eh Ms. Konigsmahne? I’ve never taken a piece of fallen glass for anyone less than a friend before. Perhaps friends who can dance on the floor together?” joked Kalil, extending a hand palm upwards, inviting the lady to a dance in the far-away music.
Once again, it seemed her deduction proved true, apparently this was considered normal in the Mughal Empire, to make a whole theatrics out of business deals. She wondered if they actually mixed the performance arts in negotiations, what a confusingly colorful society it must be. Well, when in Rome, do as the Romans do, and since Kalil was the 'guest' here, the burden of acclimatization lied with him. When he toned down the drama for good ol' straightforwardness, Lucretia found herself far more able to make sense of his offer.
Of course, if the deal would be beneficial to her family, she had no reasons to turn it down or at the very least, consider the proposition.
"Ah... so he wishes to reroute the Silk Road to skip the Ottoman Empire, therefore bringing pushing down the purchase price of those goods in Germany, thus attracting more consumers which will bring his company increased profits than otherwise.” She pondered, the Ottoman Empire must be abusing their strategic position as the bridge connecting the Occident and the Orient, likely through exorbitant tariffs. It would make perfect sense to remove this leech whenever possible, and fortunately, doing so will mutually benefit both seller and consumer. If the expedition proved to be successful, then the House would receive a share of the profits too.
However, judging from the lessons she had learned about projects, whether they be scientific, engineering, medical, or mercantile in nature, there's always a catch, a possible snag in the gears. In this particular case, if the Ottomans found out about it, they'd most likely deploy measures to retaliate against Germany and the Mughals, but considering the potential benefits... It's still a proposal worth considering.
"Perhaps... but I wouldn't fault you for being unaware of my preferences, it'd be hypocritical of me to do so." Her petite shoulders rose up a bit in a shrug,
"It's not a decision that I can authorize by myself either so you are correct, Mr. Gharbi,” She then paused, as if considering something, and unlike Franz' faux pause, hers was genuine,
"Among these textiles of yours, do you have any that are particularly resistant to heat and combustion while being lightweight and durable? If there are, I request for my family to gain exclusive access to it. It'd greatly increase your proposal's attractiveness to us if you do." She’d wait for his answer to his important question of hers before addressing his next words, which were firmly in the realm of pleasantries rather than business.
"Well, we are fellow students of Bermuda, us being friends is not an unwelcome notion. As for us being business partners, like I said, you will have to wait for my family's decision on the matter." She then stared down at his hand, now that was a strange proposal, what does that have anything to do with asking her for a dance? She couldn't see why they should dance together
because he saved her from falling glass, but if he asked her because they were both students who were attending the same ball and therefore should partake in its activities, then...
"Perhaps... but not right now, as I said, I have things I must do first, then I will return to the ball. I will search for you once I'm there to do this... dance, but I have to admit that I have little experience with the activity so you will have to compensate for me." With that answer, she figured she shouldn't waste anymore time.
"Let us not tarry then, I should go now. I will see you later, Mr. Gharbi." Then Lucy did exactly as she claimed as she stood up from her seat to make her way out of the infirmary, Schwarzritter following closely beside her, ever the loyal knight it was.
Ah, the German efficiency did not disappoint. After confirming the existence of the material which Lucretia was looking for, Kalil found himself delighted at the prospect of teaching the young girl to dance. It was one of his many delights in the world, to dance to good music. He nodded to her farewell, replying to her back.
”A pleasure doing business, Ms. Konigsmahne, and may I see you on the dance floor!” Soon enough, Kalil was left alone to wander his way back to the ballroom after being discharged by the nurse. He took long drags of his pipe, filling the hallway with gentle vapour as his mind wandered. A colourful string of events but with several unknowns ticking away at his mind, some with worrying possibilities.
It was a dynamicism that felt familiar but
wrong in the same vein. He would have to look out for perpetrators with the power to match his own.
Vapour swirled around him like the thoughts in his mind, dancing in the moonlit hallway. The chemicals soothed his addled brain, dulling the senses. The euphoria edged at him, pushing the troubling thoughts away. The heat which felt small beforehand seemed to rise the more he took of his pipe. Whatever. He could worry about all of this another time, he had accomplished enough this evening. After all, there was a banquet to attend!
Kalil barged through the doors, smile on his face. Where was that cute Whitehall girl that took such an interest in him? He felt like
celebrating.
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