Once we were clear of the market's back alleys, I stopped and glanced at Mary. The unease from earlier had worn off. She now wore her signature pleasant look beneath her hood - as if she hadn't just witnessed an underground market full of whispered heresies and opium-slick revolvers.
"You can drop the mysterious routine now," I muttered, my face slipping into the usual deadpan. "Hopefully you're a bit more put off from involving yourself in my personal business."
She tilted her head slightly, hood still casting her features in shadow. "That was quite… exciting? I'm not sure. But it definitely didn't have the effect you hoped it would."
I narrowed my eyes.
She smirked.
"Alright, out with it," I sighed, like an older brother dealing with an especially annoying sibling. "Why follow me? You barely know me, and you definitely have better things to do than frolic in the city's more barbaric elements."
"You're not wrong," she said, shrugging. "Usually I don't concern myself with anyone beneath my station. But you act like you're hiding something. Especially since the ceremonial hall incident. I was curious what sort of 'shadowy' things you do when you're not following orders."
I gave her a flat look.
"I wasn't doing anything illegal."
Her raised brow said otherwise.
Still, she didn't press. Her golden eyes lingered, transfixed in quiet observation. Not glowing. No runes. But still - beautiful, in a distant, star-glow sort of way.
Ugh. What am I thinking.
She noticed me staring and smiled, tucking a strand of gold hair back beneath her hood.
"We could ruin each other's lives in an instant," she said quietly. "And yet, that's half the thrill, isn't it? Two people bound by fate and fear. Strangers yesterday... and now this."
I rolled my eyes and met her gaze with a colder one. It had no effect. Her smile only widened. Not particularly the reaction I thought I'd receive.
And to think you scared me. You're more annoying than frightening.
Rather than argue, I walked on. She followed closely, still clinging lightly to the back edge of my cloak for some reason.
At this point, I was too fed up to even make a joke about consent in my head.
We passed from the alleyways into the outskirts of the Outer Rim. The buildings slowly shifted from cracked stone to red brick. The cobblestones lost their grime one square at a time.
Mary looked around. Not with awe or fear - just mild curiosity and a touch of boredom. Like a tourist revisiting a city she'd already seen in better weather.
"You don't seem impressed," I muttered, mostly to keep myself entertained.
"I'm from the capital," she replied simply.
Ah. Right. Sorry, Princess.
"There are things there that would blow your mind," she added with a small smirk. "I could take you, if you'd like."
I rolled my eyes.
"Thanks for the humility. I'll pass. I'd rather get there on my own terms."
I'll have to eventually anyway. And if fate is cruel, it'll be with you.
---
By the time we reached my apartment, the city had dipped fully into dusk. As I unlocked the door, Mary eyed the cracked sign, the uneven steps, the patchy facade.
She looked... unimpressed.
"You live here?" she asked, holding up her cloak like it might catch a disease.
"This is what you get when you're born without noble blood," I said, stepping inside. I breathed easier instantly - this was home, after all. Humble, dusty, and a little too quiet. But mine.
She hesitated, then followed. Her eyes flicked over the cluttered shelves, the mismatched furniture, the piles of books and old war manuals. I expected a scoff.
Instead, she frowned.
"This is too small for someone like you."
I blinked, a bit speechless. "Someone like me?"
She didn't answer right away. Instead, she moved slowly around the room, her hood falling back. In the dim light, her beauty stood in quiet contrast to the grim surroundings.
"You've proven yourself," she said quietly. "You're one of the Chosen. You shouldn't be forgotten in places like this."
Her tone wasn't pitying. Just… confused. As if it genuinely didn't make sense to her - that someone of worth could be left in such conditions.
I didn't respond. Maybe I was too tired. Maybe I didn't want to pick a fight. Or maybe, I could see the start of the same Imperial arrogance that, years from now, would consume her. And I pitied her - not for what she believed now, but for what she'd have to unlearn later.
She was kinder than most Imperials.
But still an Imperial.
I cleaned myself up in silence, and we left again for the train station. Mary didn't say much - maybe tired, maybe still brooding. I didn't ask. I was too exhausted to care.
---
The station was a cacophony of brass, steam, and motion. Pipes hissed like mechanical serpents. Engines groaned like beasts being stirred from slumber. Train whistles pierced the air like war cries. The scent of burned oil and ambition clung to the metal.
We crossed through the noble checkpoint. Heavily armed guards stood watch beside a humming arcane scanner - rune-etched, faintly glowing, and likely expensive enough to fund a whole street's worth of repairs.
I showed them Arthur's insignia - polished, gold, marked with the family crest. They let me pass with a bow. No words, no delays.
Mary followed effortlessly, veiled by cloak and Arthur's influence.
The train waited like a sleeping colossus - sleek and golden, its hull polished like ceremonial armor. The carriages stretched like a procession of carriages, three total. For the first time, I walked past the common cars and stepped into the one closest to the front.
The Noble Carriage.
Climbing the ladder isn't so bad, after all.
The moment the mechanical doors hissed closed, the world went silent.
Inside was another world entirely.
Velvet cushions thick enough to smother a complaint. Brass sconces glinting like candlelight frozen in gold. Panels of carved mahogany. Windows cleaner than glass had any right to be.
Gothic murals of saints and emperors adorned the ceiling. Steam vents shaped like blooming vines whispered faint warmth through the floor. The vibrations of the track were reduced to the faintest murmur.
The train didn't move. It floated.
Mary's eyes widened slightly. That rare, unguarded glimmer returned. She moved to a window seat in a private room and sat, pulling back her hood, gazing at the skyline as it crawled past.
This is what home looks like to her.
I took the seat across, leaning my head against the soft inner wall. My hand cradled my temple, elbow resting on the wide armrest. I let myself relax - really relax - for the first time in the last forty-eight hours.
The city outside looked... delicate.
Orange light from sunset bathed the skyline, rooftops glinting gold. Lamplight flickered below like scattered stars. Iron met fire, and the city breathed in glowing silhouettes.
Mary kept her gaze fixed on it - like a child looking through glass at something untouchable.
I realized something.
She's doing what I did just yesterday.
Staring at the same skyline with the same quiet awe.
Only yesterday, I was crammed in with workers in the common carriage - soot-stained windows, half-broken fans, sweaty elbows and tired eyes.
Yet I still admired the view.
And now… here I was.
A noble's seat.
Across from a girl who would never have looked my way just a week ago.
Funny how quickly things change.
And how little they really do.
The warmth, the silence, the motion of the train…
It was too much. My eyelids felt heavier with each passing second.
I didn't even realize when they closed.
The sound of the train softened to a hum, and sleep came quietly.
No dreams.
Just peace.
And for once, that was enough.