Hm," Dunn Smith's grey eyes stared steadily at the panicking Klein. "Let's talk in my office."
The Captain turned with a swish of his trench coat. Kenley dithered in confusion for a moment as he looked back and forth between Klein and Leonard. Rozanne was watching with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape.
"Well?" Leonard smiled at Klein, nudging his shoulder. With a sigh and a resentful glance, Klein fell into step behind Captain Dunn and followed him past the partition. It took conscious effort to keep his posture and not slump into the slouch of a student called into the teacher's office.
He could hear the clatter of Kenley's plate as the shorter man hastily left his slice of cake on the counter.
Dunn leaned against his desk, facing the door, tobacco pipe already in hand.
"So. You don't deny Leonard's claim?" He asked calmly, watching Klein enter the room.
Klein fought back a helpless smile. His day had started so well and then he'd been on the back-foot since lunch. At this point hasn't my reaction given the game away...?
"There's... definitely memories missing," Klein conceded. "I said as much when you first interviewed me, but at the time I hadn't realised the extent of the loss."
"Relax. This isn't an interrogation," Dunn chuckled. "A bad memory isn't a crime."
You would know... Klein bit his tongue, lampooning wildly from the stress.
"It's more of an intervention, really," Leonard chimed in, cheery as can be. "Were the memories all lost in that one instance of amnesia, or is this a continuing process?"
Klein's tense shoulders abruptly relaxed as he blinked owlishly at Leonard. "As far as I know it was from that one instance. I have not noticed any issues with my memory since then."
"Yes..." Leonard drew out the word, eyebrows raised. "But had you noticed forgetting so much of your experience at University?"
Klein considered Leonard's words seriously. Of course, it's all a result of my transmigration, so I don't doubt my recent memory... I have no fear of forgetting Benson and Melissa, and I know I have enough memories to continue living as Klein. But it's not like I've pain-stakingly recalled his life. I recounted what I could, and everything else has been natural recall... if I did lose more memories of Klein's past, would I notice...? Could my assumption that this is just a transmigration issue be faulty? I haven't doubted my memories of Earth, but could those also be in danger of a lingering influence? Surely the past month of memories would not be exempt?
"It's a good point," Klein said, breaking out of his thoughts. "I concede that if I did have more issues with my memory, I may not be aware of the extent of it myself."
Dunn packed tobacco and mint leaves into his pipe, stoically ignoring the glances cast his way.
"Leonard, may I ask how you noticed?" Klein asked, when it became clear that the Captain was content to listen for now.
"In your conversation with Miss Falkner there were a few times you contradicted her, or failed to join in on the recollection. The graduation ceremony was of particular note," Leonard smiled, head tilting lazily to the side.
Kenley let out a small "oh!" of realisation. "That's right! I thought it must have been the stress, or that you were too embarrassed to admit that you forgot..."
"It sounded like a significant event, but it is also one that took place after Welch McGovern first acquired the notebook. Many of the events you struggled to recall - the regatta, perhaps - were clearly much older than that. I was wondering if this loss of memory may not be just the notebook covering its tracks, but an alternative explanation to your failed suicide." Leonard continued.
"I think I see your meaning," Klein said, nodding thoughtfully. "At the time I thought I'd only forgotten things related to the notebook." He cast his mind back and let out a surprised laugh at the memory that bubbled up. "After all, I could still remember how the price of bread was changing from day to day."
"And now?" Dunn prompted, his eyes boring into Klein.
"Truthfully, I struggle to remember most of the past year. Even my graduation defence is a blur, and many things that happened even before Welch acquired the notebook at the end of May are... difficult to recall."
"Could it be that there's a common element to these missing memories?" Kenley asked, brows furrowed as he thought. "For instance, is it just memories of Welch and Naya being affected? Couldn't it all be connected to the notebook?"
"No," Klein replied. "I'm certain that's not the case." In times of need, honesty is the best policy! If he didn't confess now then poor unsuspecting Clarice might have a surprise gas meter inspection. "I had trouble recalling older memories as well, particularly the finer details. I doubt my time in Sunday School had any mystical connection, and that was long before I met Welch or Naya."
"The Goddess works in mysterious ways," Leonard teased. "But I don't disagree. Collateral damage, perhaps, from when the notebook influenced you? Or your memories may have been used as part of the ritual?"
"Is sacrificing memories possible?" Klein asked in alarm.
The sloppy poet hummed noncommittally and shrugged. "How would I know? You can ask Old Neil. I'm sure there's more than one way to cause memory loss."
"Klein..." Dunn addressed him seriously, interrupting his new fantasy of attacking Leonard. "This is important information. Not for the investigation, but for your welfare."
"I..." didn't want to admit I was shot in the head? Klein bit his lip in frustration. "At the time, I truly thought it was only things related to the notebook. I hadn't realised the extent until I started preparing for the interview. I could remember everything to do with my family, and my memory's been fine since, so it wasn't a problem." After all, you gave me a job!
Dunn sighed and pinched his brows.
Even Klein had to admit the reasoning was flimsy, but he wasn't going to say: "and I transmigrated after this body was shot in the head, so missing some brain is only natural!"
Even so, Captain, aren't you despairing of me too quickly...?
"Ultimately all we have is surmise. Your situation hasn't changed and we have no way of investigating the matter further," Captain Dunn Smith sniffed his pipe. His expression relaxed as he chuckled. "Fortunately we were not hiring you based on your graduation defence.
"Still, if you or a colleague notices any new gaps in your memory, it should be reported. We should not always assume the best, as the warning signs of Beyonder activity can be very subtle," Dunn said as he stowed his pipe. "For now, we have no evidence of the notebook still influencing you, and will act as such. Heh... When it comes to such matters, we also cannot afford to consider every possibility, or else we will be paralysed by indecision...
"This is the importance of good record keeping. If there is a situation, then our records will provide foresight.
"Let's return to our usual business. Don't you two have reports to prepare?"
He stepped away from the desk and began to move towards the door. No-one else moved, watching him expectantly. Dunn paused halfway across the room.
"One more thing," Dunn spoke up, an odd look on his face. "You mentioned issues with details. How much has this actually impacted your historical knowledge?"
Ah. Klein smiled bashfully. Has Captain finally realised the issue of hiring an amnesiac as a history consultant?
"My core skills, such as ancient languages, are still intact, so don't worry about that, Captain. Any gaps are already being filled by my studies with Old Neil and my efforts outside of work." He gave the Captain a winning smile.
"Right then," Dunn nodded and kept moving. "Leonard, you can write the report for this. Append it to the file for the Antigonus family notebook and Klein's documents. Just a note should do."
"Yes, Captain," Leonard replied in a professional tone, but ran his hand through his hair in a distinctly hard-done-by manner.
Serves you right, you jobsworth! Well... it's true that I had not considered the risk of losing more memories. In a world where reading a book can kill you, I am only beginning to scratch the surface of mysticism. If knowledge is power, and also danger, then how do you know when you're going to cross the line? The signs of losing control should be obvious, right? No, if it were that simple then it wouldn't cost so many Nighthawks their lives...
Returning to the reception hall, Klein saw that the cake had lured out the other staff on duty that day; Mrs. Orianna, Royale, and Seeka. The cake had been re-plated, with smaller plates brought out to divide the slices. Two more plates had been set aside, presumably bound for Frye and Old Neil who were both on duty in the basement.
"Miss Rozanne, please remember to save two slices!" Klein called as he strode to the front doors, determined to not waste any more time that day by letting Rozanne drag him into another interrogation.
"I remember! They're still in the box," Rozanne called out peevishly, before peppering them with anxious questions. "Was everything alright? Klein's not in any trouble is he?"
"No, just running late! Thank you!" Klein called over his shoulder, quickly passing her by.
"Everything is fine. It was just a precaution," he could hear Dunn reply with good cheer. "When did we get cake?"
Klein slipped out through the doors and marched to the Shooting Club. Shooting Club, Deweyville Library, Divination Club... I'd planned to walk, but to make up for lost time I can take a carriage to and from the library, then walk on the way back from the Divination Club. Of course, this is assuming I find enough useful material at the library... I can consider the fare a net-zero investment in digesting my potion, by spending the money I 'saved' on the cake.
In the end, Klein only found reasons to never visit the Hornacis main peak, and almost missed meeting an anxious Bogda Jones at the Divination Club. He had fortunately bumped into the man in the doorway as he was leaving, and been able to provide his services and directions to a potentially life-saving cure at Lawson's Folk Herb Store on Vlad Street.
His stop by Blackthorn was brief - he could only anticipate the funds being ready in the morning, since they had been short on cash in the safe and had needed to send the request to the Cathedral. He supposed taking time to respond should reflect well on the Church of Evernight's bureaucracy, compared to Blackthorn Security Company's more lackadaisical operations.
Klein returned to 2 Daffodil Street with a significantly lighter cake box, now ridiculously over-sized for the two slices left.
I know I asked for her to save two slices, but shouldn't the 'at least two' have been implied? They must have taken it as a challenge...
Melissa shouted a greeting from the kitchen as Klein pushed open the door. He smiled warmly at the evidence of her taking the carriage back from school.
"Good evening. Have you been home long?" He asked as he bustled into the kitchen, depositing the cake box on the counter.
"No, I was just starting to look at dinner. Benson isn't back yet," she wandered over, eying the box. "What's this?"
"Cake from work," he lied, not feeling up to the task of recounting his entire interaction with Clarice Falkner. Considering the light ribbing from his colleagues, he dreaded how Melissa would react...
"They gave you cake for us?" She stared at him with wide eyes. She lifted the lid and her face froze when she saw how much of the box was empty space.
Now that I think of it, Clarice did say she intended it for the both of you... could this be considered wasting her good-will? Uh, the full explanation is still too tiring...
"There was cake left-over," he corrected gently. "It's lemon cake. I thought you might like it after dinner."
He helped Melissa prepare dinner, and greeted Benson when he returned home in time for the meal to be served.
Benson eyed the portions dubiously. "Klein, are you very hungry tonight, or are you trying to hint at my weight?"
"You have cake for dessert," Klein chuckled. "This is all in consideration for your appetite."
"Cake! Wonderful," Benson grinned, casting a glance at Melissa who seemed unconcerned. He spoke with careful nonchalance. "You're certain you're not spending too much on treats?"
"Don't worry. It was left-over from work," Klein repeated his lie, digging into his mutton.
"Was there a celebration?" Benson asked between bites. His and Melissa's plates were emptying quickly.
"No. Slow down, the cake isn't going anywhere," Klein laughed. "It will still be there if you take the time to chew."
Melissa made a noise of outrage, cheeks too stuffed to protest properly, and her brothers laughed.
With food in his belly and a genuine smile on his face, Klein was thinking more clearly. Right... I abbreviated it earlier, but maybe I should try to give Clarice some credit. It's not like it's a Beyonder matter, and if she does start sending me letters then my siblings will still ask questions... This isn't something I need to hide.
"It was actually a gift from an old friend of Naya's," he confessed when Melissa brought over her and Benson's dessert.
"Her friend gave your work a cake?" Benson's eyebrows rose up to chase his receding hairline.
"Technically she gave it to me, but there was too much, so I thought I should share."
"This 'old friend' is a woman?" Melissa asked sharply, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Benson managed to look even more astonished at the notion.
...Hey...
"Please, it's not like that," he protested weakly. "My colleagues already misunderstood the matter. I wasn't familiar with her at all, but she wanted to reminisce about Welch and Naya."
Melissa stared at Klein with the disappointed stare of a younger sister with a seriously stupid older brother. "Are you sure you're not the one misunderstanding? Really, Klein, what is there to reminisce about? You only graduated last month!"
Klein stared back at her in bewilderment. "What?"
"What?" She frowned back petulantly.
"She wanted to talk about the burials, since -"
"Burials?" Melissa and Benson both burst in, incredulous.
The three Moretti siblings stared at each other with wide eyes over the two untouched slices of lemon cake.
Benson slowly lowered his fork.
Did they really not know? He tried to recall, and realised that the original Klein Moretti had not spoken much of his classmates, except to explain his visits to them, and since his transmigration he had only mentioned Welch as an excuse for his cooking skills.
The police visited while I was home alone... The Nighthawks already suspected the notebook, so they did not question Melissa. The wider consequences of Welch's death did not extend beyond the wealthy and security companies, people the Moretti family would never interact with. And most gossip only refers to the location of the burglary. Of course, I would not want to invite any suspicion by drawing attention to it, and the original Klein would also not wish to discuss such sad matters...
"It was in the papers. I thought..." Klein's voice was faint. Of course! Back then we were counting every penny, so we were not in the habit of buying the newspaper! Benson was still travelling home the day the article was published, so he had less opportunity to borrow one... Plus, it's not like their names were in the headline.
What sort of contrived comedy is this?
"I thought you knew. It was the armed burglary murder on Howes Street."
"Oh, oh Klein, that was Welch? You -" Melissa bit her lip, a frustrated noise bursting out.
He nodded slowly. "And Naya. If I had stayed a few hours longer that day, then..." Actually, to survive that night I would have would needed to leave at least a few hours earlier. "Well. I was questioned by police. It's actually how I learned about the job opening at the security company." He took the opportunity to fill in the gaps with half-truths.
"You didn't mention it," Benson admonished gently.
"It... I really thought you knew," he repeatedly helplessly. "I talked with Mr Cohen about it, and... Right, this was all before you came home, Benson, and Melissa was at school when the police visited."
Klein sighed, staring down at his empty plate.
"I wasn't trying to keep it a secret," he spoke softly in the pressing silence.
"No, I understand," Benson continued. "You couldn't afford to lose focus on the interviews. In fact, I suspect you've thought about it as little as possible."
He looked up at his brother. "I... yes. Yes, I suppose that's right."
Benson smiled at him in fond exasperation. "We know how you grieve, Klein. You always turn it into action. Heh, I should've suspected there was something more fuelling your energy for your new job."
"Still..." Melissa's voice shook. "If you don't tell us, we won't know. Wasn't it... I mean Welch was... Hasn't it been difficult?"
"It needed to be done," Klein spoke plainly, and in his mind he saw echoes of a childhood he hadn't lived himself. A father whose face he could only now remember as a photograph. A mother, preparing her children for school. An older brother hunting for work. Opportunity being pressed into his hands through the blood, sweat, and loving smiles of his guardians. That's right. Back then, Benson said the same thing, didn't he?
From the way Benson's eyes pinched above a tight, proud smile, he thought his brother might be remembering the same things.
Klein's most important memories... I still have those.
"I have been sad," Klein admitted frankly. "The new routine has kept me distracted. I was hoping to visit their graves, but Welch is buried in Constant City. Naya is..." He blinked. "Ah, I forgot to ask for the plot, but I know she was buried in Raphael Cemetery."
Benson cleared his throat, "Well, let me know if you want company. We could also visit mother's grave."
"That's right, we haven't gone this year," Melissa's face could have been set in stone, but that familial exasperation was also showing through the cracks. "It'd be nice."
Despite the slightly higher costs, the Moretti family had ensured their mother had a burial and gravestone rather than a cremation, as it was closer to her wishes as a devout follower of the Evernight Goddess. Their father's body never returned from overseas.
Visiting her grave was something he had not considered. After all, Zhou Mingrui's mother had still been alive. He was Klein Moretti now, but there was a qualitive difference in the memories he inherited and the memories he was forming. Much like Welch and Naya, the mother of the Moretti's siblings drifted in the realm of anecdote, rather than lived experience. What would he feel at her grave?
"Yes," he choked down his emotions as he collected his plate. "That would be nice." He moved to the kitchen to wash the dishes. I need to find a way home, he reminded himself, as he filled the sink. That's still a possibility. Yes, I must still live my life as Klein Moretti, but I cannot forget that I am also Zhou Mingrui, who still has people to return to...
Melissa had silently brought him the dirty plates and - after a moment's hesitation - pressed a fleeting hug against his side before leaving to tinker on her mechanical 'puppet' at the dining table.
Benson was ensconced in his usual chair, reading the Awwa Evening News, and Klein had decided to continue his evening routine of revising his history textbooks on the living room sofa.
The evening mood was subdued and the time passed by quietly. A short while after Melissa had retired for the night, Benson had stood to also go to bed and had patted Klein firmly on the shoulder. "Let us know, alright? We'll plan a visit to the graves."
"Of course," Klein smiled, and was surprised when Benson tugged him into brusque hug.
"Stay safe. If you're ever robbed, you know to throw your wallet and run, right?" Benson murmured, face pinched.
"Yes, Sunday July 15
"Klein, there was a letter for you," Melissa was eyeing him with suspicion. Again. "I left it on the table."
"Thank you," he gave her a bemused smile as he walked over to the table. What have I done this time? Getting a letter isn't... Ah. I see. There was no stamp.
Looking at the finely inked cursive letters on the envelope - "Mr. Klein Moretti, 2 Daffodil Street" - he immediately knew who it was from.
All his contacts would use the postal system, or wait to speak to him directly. The deliberate care and expensive ink used spoke of wealth and time. It must be Clarice Falkner.
As a wealthy woman she could choose to forego the postal service entirely by sending a servant directly. The postal service ran multiple times a day, but deliveries were delayed at least one day by the need to sort the post. It was common for the wealthy with urgent messages to bypass the service entirely.
He doubted the letter was urgent. I'm afraid my reply will have to go through the normal channels, Miss Clarice...
Still, this is a good reminder. I need to ask her about where Naya's grave is. He opened up the envelope as he casually asked Melissa when it arrived.
"It was in the mailbox when I checked this morning. Who's it from?"
He fumbled for a moment, needing to unfold the second sheet of paper to confirm the signature at the end, before confirming: "Naya's old friend."
"The one who gave you the lemon cake?"
"Yes, that's the one," he chuckled before refocusing on the letter as he pulled up a chair.
"Nothing like some light reading for breakfast," Benson teased as he came down the stairs, dressed lightly as he'd soon need to change into formal attire for the birthday banquet they were attending.
He moved towards the kitchen where Melissa swiftly intercepted him. With the immediate crisis of Benson's cooking averted, Klein tuned out Melissa's hushed murmur of "it's from the cake lady" as he struggled to parse the letter.
The gist seemed to be thanking him for his time, saying she had enjoyed the conversation and found it 'very cathartic'... An apology - his brows rose - for being so forward at the end, as she missed Naya very much and, with her other friends gone from Tingen, was so relieved to see a friendly face...
At first he thought it was a whole lot of nothing, but then he remembered that this was closer to the norm for correspondence. The 'waffle' he was skimming was all the social pleasantries that made for a polite letter. The niceties really reminded him that he was an introvert.
It was awkward, but it was still much easier to talk to her in person.
Klein let out a heartfelt sigh as he yearned for the thrill of the message boards of the internet. If the Tarot Club is a chat room, then this is an email chain... uh, wait, there's something wrong with this reasoning...
"Bad news?" Benson asked as he pulled up the chair next to him, his toast already half-eaten on the walk from kitchen to table.
Melissa craned her neck over Klein's shoulder as she inched into the other chair, two plates of breakfast balanced precariously in her hands. He shot her a glance and she pulled upright with a blush. The jolt caused one of the poached eggs to plop off the toast and onto the plate, leaking yolk.
"No." Klein replied, and then reached over for to claim the unmarred plate. "That one is yours, Melissa."
"Klein! You know the cook gets first pick of the plates," she chided, but still settled the sad egg plate onto her placemat. Ah, an admission of guilt! He was readying to tease her about the consequences of her nosiness some more, but Benson intervened.
"That was quite the sigh for no bad news. You're not vying for a role as a moody romantic lead are you? No yearning to visit windswept cliffs and stand upon grassy moors as you ponder your emotions?"
"Hardly! What have you been reading?" Klein laughed at the thought, turning his full attention to Benson. "It's just that I'm used to more focused correspondence, so I'm at a loss of how to reply to this style of letter. I haven't even finished reading it yet."
His two siblings shared a glance across the table.
"Klein, you sound more pretentious every day," Melissa bluntly accused him as she skewered her egg back onto the bread. "If you want to be a true gentleman then you need to learn how to reply to a lady."
"Quite so. Klein, you shouldn't approach this as if it were an academic exchange. If you find it too intimidating, then consider that it could develop into a more intellectual exchange over time. Although, that's assuming that she is interested in such things. Was she a history student as well?"
"She studied Law, I think. Discussing the Fourth Epoch would be a non-starter," he eyed them warily and placed down the letter to start on his own breakfast. Priorities and all that. "I was meaning to write to her to ask for the plot number of Naya's grave."
"Careful, or you'll spill egg on it!" Melissa chided again.
"I won't," Klein huffed, and made a show of delicately slicing into the stack of food. Hmm, the toast is still fluffy on the inside... yes, just seared on the edges, it's a good mix of texture. I should compliment her efforts later. Shame that she's still in the habit of skimping on the seasoning...
"Klein," Benson spoke again.
"Mm?" He looked up, mouth and mind full of egg.
"If you'd like I could help you think of a reply. It would be good for you to practice new conversation starters. Am I right to suppose that she led most of the conversation when you met?"
Rather than stop chewing, he waved the letter towards Benson with a shake of acquiescence and a fond roll of the eyes. If you could give me the summary then that'd be great too...
Benson's eyes lit up as he seized the letter. "Oho! Let's see here..."
The table fell into silence aside from the gentle clatter of forks and knives against the plates.
"Well?" Melissa asked after she emptied her plate. "Your breakfast is getting cold."
"I think... Klein should finish reading the letter first," Benson spoke slowly, his expression complicated.
"Alright," Klein took the letter back with a raised brow. Did it take a strange turn? "Compliments to the chef," he murmured as he resumed his reading.
Let's see... miss Naya dearly, blah blah, friendly face...
I realised afterwards that when I asked you about your work I had failed to return knowledge in kind. Or, at the very least, I had taken it for granted and not elaborated on my own circumstances. I believe I made allusions to how my legal knowledge is being applied to my family's business.
Truthfully, I can be considered a woman of leisure. As such, I find that I am often at loose ends these days, and so I have been searching for new hobbies to entertain. If you have any recommendations then they would be most welcome.
Exploring the city has been one of my attempts to find a past-time, and I am thankful that it led me across your path. Unfortunately, idle browsing of storefronts sparked little joy. Careful management of my inheritance allows me to live in comfort, and gain much experience in managing the budget of a household, but I find that I lack reasons to spend my good fortune. One can only drink so much coffee.
I do not wish to bore you with stories of idle days, but I would like to inquire into yours. Is it very dangerous working for a security company? Are your colleagues pleasant? And other such questions. If you can think of anything then I would be glad to return the favour. Perhaps we could exchange stories of our siblings?
Once your schedule settles, I would appreciate another chance to speak face to face. I enjoy exchanging letters, but fear I will speak too much of nothing important when I am unable to gauge my companion's feelings. I considered trying to start a gathering of fellow graduates, but we are all scattered to the winds. If you know of any then they would also be most welcome to join us.
I hope that the promise of new friendship has been a balm for you as it has been for me these past few days.
Yours with esteem,
Clarice Falkner
Why did she tell me about her finances? Is this some form of bragging, or reassurance that she could afford the cake? Klein stared down at the letter blankly. Should I suggest she try charity work?
I already knew she was close to Naya, but it seems odd that she has no one else to turn to...
"Thoughts?" Benson asked as he helped Melissa gather the empty plates.
"I can't tell if she's actually committed to asking any questions, or just suggested them," he tapped his finger against the table as he thought. "I certainly wouldn't want to reply to all of them in one go. I shouldn't ignore the request to meet, but it's true that my schedule hasn't settled, so I can beg that off for now."
"It sounds like you'd rather not see her again?" Benson asked again, his tone leading as he blatantly pried for more details.
"I'm very busy," Klein answered immediately.
Melissa and Benson shared another meaningful look. Hey, I can see you conspiring...
"Let's talk about this later," Benson suggested with a tired chuckle. "I think you need some time to think about the nature of your response, and to reflect on whatever conversation you've already have, before I offer any suggestions."
"Can I read it?" Melissa asked promptly, seeing that the matter was about to be shelved.
"It's poor form to invade your older brother's privacy," Benson said with a smile, wagging a finger to halt her immediate rebuttal. "As the eldest brother, I can enjoy such privileges without fear of reprisal."
Melissa's steely gaze darted between the two brothers, her lips pursed in thought. "I see... Perhaps you can seek advice from some of the guests at the banquet. I told you about Selena's brother Chris, right? His engagement is still going strong after four years, so he should be very knowledgeable on the matter."
"Engagement?" Klein parroted stupidly, as Benson chuckled and patted Melissa on the back.
"Yes, that's good advice. Speaking of which, we should all start getting dressed. We wouldn't want to embarrass you in front of your friends."
Her blank stare spoke volumes of how highly she thought of her brothers. Still, Melissa retreated up the stairs, leaving them to wash the dishes.
"I suspect she's also misunderstood the situation," Klein joked wearily as he began to scrub the pan.
"Yes, there's definitely a misunderstanding..." The corners of Benson's lips twitched wildly as he cleaned the plates. "Last night, you said something similar about your colleagues. Did they meet this 'Clarice'?"
"Not really. They overheard the conversation," Klein admitted readily as he scoured at a particularly stubborn patch. "I'm certain they just considered it a fun way to tease the new hire."
"I see..." Benson's voice went distant with thought as he used a towel to dry their handiwork, before shaking his head and flashing Klein a strange smile. "You really are sprinting into a new life now that you're out of education.
"Well, my advice is unchanged. You should seriously think about how you feel about this lady, and then we can go from there."
"It's not - " he began to refute the insinuation, but stopped short when he met Benson's serious gaze. He's worried again... No, wait, that's not just concern... This is just like the stare Melissa gives me when she thinks I've been particularly stupid!
Klein stood there dumbly, mouth slowly closing. "Alright. I'll think about it."
At Selena Wood's birthday banquet he noticed that Benson did not ask Chris Wood for any advice, and he hoped Melissa would not chide them for it later. She had already given him an exceptionally scandalised stare for talking to her friend Elizabeth.
And Klein did keep the promise to think about it, but only after pushing the matter entirely from his mind to prioritise the more immediate issue of an evil spirit corrupting the person of honour.
It was only in the carriage ride home, after a quick stop to report to Captain Dunn, that he let his mind linger on the topic.
He already knew that he could not afford distraction, or stomach the idea of abandoning a partner, so he was definitely not looking for a relationship. So long as my goal is to return home, it would be irresponsible to enter into a relationship. But 'I intend to leave this world' is not a rational explanation that I can tell others. I should prepare a reasonable defence for when people ask me about such things in future, or else they may make uncomfortable assumptions about me...
It was hard for Klein to even imagine what a romantic relationship with Clarice Falkner would look like. She didn't really have anything in-common with the girls he had fancied in the past, but that was in a different world and a different culture. Her looks were quite plain, but that did not mean she was wholly without charm. His past crush had also been a head-strong girl...
Still, if she did proposition me, I would have to decline...
Klein's mind buzzed into silence as he stared out of the carriage window.
Why am I worrying about declining a proposal? There's no way that will happen, he shook his head, silently laughing at himself. All this suspicion is getting to me. Even if she was interested, the man asking out the woman is the norm here in the Loen Kingdom. Yes, she seems quite desperate for company, but that does not mean she is looking for love.
I already reasoned that having more contacts is a useful thing, so I can suggest we remain pen pals for now. Maybe discuss recent news... I can bounce the idea off of Benson.
I can also ask him why he suspected her intentions later, in-case I am missing a particular social cue. He relaxed back in the seat, feeling much more confident in his ability to discuss the matter.
Once they returned home, he took the chance to speak with Melissa and air out her suspicions of him. He quickly established the narrative that Elizabeth had asked him to translate Selena's magic mirror ritual, and that the revelations of its unorthodox origins was the cause of the girls' later unrest.
Now he had only one more conversation to square away.
He waited patiently for Benson to vacate the shower, ambushing him outside the bathroom.
"Benson. I thought about what you said about Clarice."
"Oh! Are we having this conversation now?" Benson stared at him. "Honestly I thought you would need at least a day to consider it. Where did you find the time between thinking of your work matters and losing at cards?"
Klein chuckled. "Somewhere between Melissa accusing me of being interested in a sixteen year old and the ride back home."
"So that's why you acted so strange in the carriage," Benson smiled at him, leaning against the wall, apparently content to talk in the hallway. "Well, let's hear it then, but I won't promise to help you with the reply before I've slept."
"Of course. I won't take long. I thought about what you said, and my past interaction with her, and I'm certain that I have no romantic intentions for her. That is what you were trying to ask me, yes?"
"Not quite so plainly, but, yes, that is the heart of the matter," Benson gave Klein a bemused smile. "You sound very certain. Was she really so unpleasant?"
"Not particularly. Has your own luck been so terrible that you expect me to be interested in any woman who is pleasant?" Klein retorted cheekily.
"No, no, I see your point. I needn't fear of you ever falling in love at first sight," Benson huffed a laugh. "Now, from one gentleman to another, I should ask if you've considered her own feelings in the matter."
"Benson, isn't this just the classic conundrum of a man and a woman becoming acquainted?" He waved his hand. "Naya had no such intentions for myself or Welch, but we still enjoyed a friendship. It's a modern age. Exchanging letters should be fine, and I have no intention of courting her. Has she really done anything to give you the impression of other motives?"
"Naya did not write you a letter like she was expanding on a matrimonial advertisement," Benson replied bluntly. "Klein, you should know that it's extremely forward to explain your income to a prospective partner."
Ah, if you met Madam Daly, you would lose the rest of your hair from shock at how forward a woman can truly be...
"I see... She paid for our drinks at the time, so in the full context it's more of a reassurance," Klein said in an effort to convince his brother to relax. "But!" He raised his hand to halt Benson's reply. "I will take care, because I trust your judgement.
"I can maintain a certain distance and only write to her, to ensure there's no confusion. Only once these worries are put to rest will I consider agreeing to another meeting."
Benson's expression only grew more complicated. "Right... Well, compatibility is the most important thing. I'd rather see you become an old bachelor than have you rush into a relationship with a wealthy lady only to find she has the brains of a curly-haired baboon."
"We're in agreement on that score," Klein laughed, relieved that Benson had used his favourite phrase. It was a sign that the serious topic was over.
"Don't agree so quickly! My actual hopes are still for you to enter a happy engagement within the next few years," Benson shook his head with a smile. "It's good to focus on your career for now, but you should not let it become a priority over the rest of your life. You should consider what you want your future to look like outside of work as well."
So much for the serious talk being over! That's the real issue; I don't intend to have a future here!
"Shouldn't I be saying that to you?" Klein teased. "If I have only a few years, then shall I expect my elder brother to set a good example and introduce a prospective sister-in-law within the month?"
Benson stared at Klein, speechless. He slowly shook his head. "...You should go shower, Klein, or it shall be your smell that fends off the women rather than your lack of romantic spirit."
"I should be grateful to have a brother who so overestimates my charms! All jokes aside, I would still appreciate your help with a reply tomorrow." Klein bid his brother good night and retreated to the bathroom for his own shower.
Monday July 16
It was late afternoon - the clock already closer to five than four - when Kenley sighed as he settled down at the card table in Blackthorn Security Company's recreation room.
Seeka Tron smiled warmly at the younger man, "Welcome back. What's the matter? Was there any trouble on your patrol?"
Kenley laughed. "No, praise the Goddess, nothing like that. It's the café across the street. I wanted to reserve the window seat for a lunch with my fiancée, but they insisted that it can't be booked."
"Is that really a problem?"
"I suppose not, but honestly it's the only nice seat in the place."
"Take her somewhere nice, Kenley," Leonard opined from where he lounged, flicking through a poetry collection. "The sandwiches are too small, anyways."
"I think I'll have to! It's just a shame to have an option so close by and for it to not work out," Kenley sighed again, his romantic dreams dashed. "The really frustrating thing is that the seat is always taken when I walk by."
"Not surprising if it's the only nice seat... You say this is the café across the street? The one with the trellis?"
"Yes, that's the one."
"Hn... Leonard's right," Seeka nodded, beginning to shuffle the card deck. The man obviously perked up at the agreement, abandoning whatever poem he was trying to memorise. "I've tried it before when I was looking for inspiration... Their coffee is not brewed very well, and you can get better quality for a similar price. Walk a short distance further into North Borough and you will find much nicer places."
"I think I will. Thank you, Madam Seeka," Kenley picked up his hand as Seeka dealt out the cards. "Well, it's no great loss. They never replaced the roses, anyways, and that was half the charm. Hey, Leonard! Aren't you p