Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic-Chapter 1018: Letter and Photo

Shard didn’t wait long, just five or six minutes, before the unique sound of high heels meeting carpet echoed from the hallway outside. Judging by the footsteps, Lecia seemed to have brought quite a few maids with her.

He got up from the sofa to greet them, and after one of Lecia’s maids opened the room door, Lecia and the Little Princess Angelina, dressed in a red gown, walked in together.

The Little Princess elegantly greeted Shard, then lifted her head to ask with concern:

"Knight, are you alright after Wednesday night?"

This was the first time she had seen Shard since the reading salon.

"I’m fine, just unconscious for a day."

Shard replied, then looked at Lecia, Her Highness the Princess nodded at him with a smile, displaying a very polite demeanor:

"Mr. Hamilton, the incident on Wednesday night brought you misfortune for no reason. Today, we’ve invited you to join us at the opera, as a formal apology."

Though not knowing why Lecia spoke like this, Shard decided to go along with her words and responded:

"You don’t need to blame yourself, and this matter is mainly the responsibility of the Prophet’s Society. They’ve already compensated me, and I heard you spoke on my behalf to argue for that card, ’Genesis: Knowledge.’ I’m very grateful. I’m healthy now, and haven’t suffered any lingering effects from that incident."

Lecia nodded, and the noble lady from the Royal Family softly said:

"Still, a proper apology is necessary, and I can personally examine you, as gas poisoning is not trivial."

Angelina slightly parted her lips and looked up at her sister. Lecia’s expression was serious, as if she was discussing something formal and solemn:

"The cause of this matter, after all, was my inviting you to my reading salon, and I must take responsibility."

With that, she waved to the maids behind her. These were Lecia’s personal maids, so naturally, they understood Her Highness’s intent, and they filed out the side door into the adjacent room.

Lecia then spoke to Angelina:

"I need to talk to the Knight about his compensation, and check if he’s been affected by the gas poisoning in any other way. Angelina, you stand guard at the door next room, don’t let anyone in. If anyone else misunderstands what we’re doing, it would be very unseemly."

"Examine his body..."

The Little Princess pursed her lips, looking at Shard. From Shard’s expression, she understood that he likely didn’t know about the "body examination" excuse, and may have been deceived for some other reason.

"I... I understand."

Angelina said, a bit downcast, casting a somewhat pitying glance at Shard. As she walked hesitantly towards the side door, Lecia had already taken off her red lace-up high heels, gripping them with two fingers of her right hand. She playfully swayed them in front of Shard, then unceremoniously placed them on the coffee table.

Lecia sat sideways on the sofa, with her garter-equipped white stockings flat upon Shard’s lap. Shard gazed at those stockings, and thought of the Witch’s garments he had seen in the year 5177 of the previous Era.

Lecia extended both arms, affectionately wrapped them around Shard’s neck, and turned to look at her sister who hadn’t yet left, speaking rather sternly:

"Angelina!"

The Little Princess lowered her head and walked out the side door, clicking it shut with a lock on the other side.

"Put on the Demon Hunting Ring, about the demon issue..."

Shard still wanted to speak.

"She might assume I lured you here with some other excuse."

Dropping the Silence Charm, Lecia interrupted Shard with a laugh, placing the ring next to her high heels and biting her rosy lower lip with her white teeth, her beautiful eyes gazing intently at Shard.

Whatever Angelina was thinking, Lecia could completely guess. Of course, Lecia didn’t care what Angelina was thinking tonight; she wouldn’t waste this precious weekend rendezvous time:

"Knight, let me examine your body. Truly, I hope you don’t always lavish your attention on Miss Writer, the Princess needs you too sometimes. The opera is about to start, what a beautiful occasion, these weekly rendezvous..."

(Iluna writing a report...)

If you don’t rest well, even Circle Sorcerers will be in poor spirits the next day. Coming back home on Monday night at eleven, sleep only came after midnight.

Thus, early Tuesday morning, yawning and wearing slippers to collect the newspaper and milk downstairs, Shard found himself clawing out the itch-inducing golden long hair from his pajama collar, while noticing a letter from Miss Gawder on the doorstep mat.

Last month’s letters came just before mid-month, yet this month, the letter arrived as early as the third day.

The return address on the envelope was still a secluded town in the eastern coastal region of Draleon. Shard was already quite familiar with Miss Gawder’s handwriting, and in this particular letter, the lady informed Shard of some good news.

"Miss Gawder’s illness is completely cured."

Sitting at the dining table, Shard happily announced as he opened the letter. Miss Writer, who had recently started a brief cohabitation life, stroked Mia while eating breakfast. Given that she had prepared breakfast, the cat did not protest.

"In previous letters, the lady mentioned strange occurrences in the town where her family resides, and I was somewhat worried at the time. Unexpectedly, in just over half a month, the matter has temporarily been resolved by the Church, and Miss Gawder’s illness has nearly recovered."

He continued reading the letter as he spoke.

"Originally, you planned to visit that town in the spring of 1854 by steam train, to fulfill the last commission of the previous detective. Can you start planning the trip now?"

"Yes, if all goes well, I intend to leave in April next year."

Shard nodded, having read the last line of the letter. When Miss Gawder writes letters, she always seals them at the end. From the marks, it’s an ancient metal seal, probably left by her ancestors:

"The town’s issues are temporarily resolved, and Miss Gawder plans to renovate the ancestral home this winter, sell off unnecessary family collectibles, retrieve the land deeds buried in the yard, and handle the abandoned family banquet estate and farm. She told me that if the plan goes well, she wants to repair the bay’s dock and restore the town’s ocean trade."

Shard said with a smile:

"It seems that lady won’t be leaving town anytime soon, nor returning to Tobesk. I am confident I can persuade her to sell Mia to me."

"Did she mention Mia in the letter again?"

Dorothy asked curiously, and Shard nodded again:

"Yes, the lady once again requested that I take a photo with the cat and send it to her. She still has considerable affection for Mia and wants to see the cat again before the year ends."

"A photograph?"

Dorothy’s eyes lit up, and she said as if unintentionally:

"I’ve noticed that, besides the photo you sent Miss Gawder in the fall, there are no other photos of you in this house. Since you’re going to take photos, why not take a few more? I know you don’t like your face appearing in photos, but if it’s to hang at home, it shouldn’t be a problem. In fact, one could argue that having no photos of oneself at home is quite strange."

Shard thought for a moment and tilted his head, looking toward the living room:

"That’s reasonable... I’ll book an appointment this afternoon at the photographer’s, and once the time is set, we can go take photos together, how does that sound?"

He proposed, which made Dorothy nod in satisfaction: freёnovelkiss.com

"Also, let’s go take photos together. Since the year’s end is near, I want to commemorate this extraordinary year too. Taking a photo for keepsake, who knows, the year-end literary award might really require my photo."

This slightly dull Tuesday daytime didn’t have anything particularly interesting happen. Shard didn’t stay home all day. Besides reading at home, he also wrote a reply to Miss Gawder, and naturally, he didn’t forget to ask about Mia’s breed in the letter.

The investigation report for Baron Camelon wasn’t urgent, so in the afternoon, Shard just went to the photographer’s to book an appointment for photos. By the year’s end, business for the city’s photographers was very good. Besides patrons visiting in person to take photos, photographers and apprentices could also bring equipment for photo sessions at home.

The former requires an appointment, while the latter just needs an extra fee to have immediate service.

To save waiting time, Shard scheduled the photographer to come to his home at four in the afternoon. After informing Dorothy when he got home, the blonde complained that Shard didn’t give her enough time to do her makeup.

And the week’s "God’s Gift Box" gift was something Shard remembered only approaching dusk.

By then, the photographer had been busy for over an hour and just left, having scheduled for Shard to pick up the photos on the weekend.

He was about to head out with Dorothy for dinner. Winter attire for outings is far more cumbersome than in summer, and it took Miss Writer quite some time to get ready, donning a red mink scarf—something she bought herself with her manuscript fee a few days ago.

Shard didn’t want Dorothy to wait for him any longer, and in his mind, collecting the gift each week was a very "sacred" ritual that shouldn’t be done in haste. Thus, the two and one cat went to Silver Cross Avenue to have dinner first, and only after the street lights came on did they head to the University District for a walk.

Upon returning home, Shard finally went to the basement to retrieve the "God’s Gift Box." He stroked Mia to boost his luck before reaching inside the box:

"So far, the only relic I’ve drawn is the [Master Key]. Do I have any luck this time..."

His palm touched a slender metallic object in the bottom of the box, only to pull out a fountain pen. Although it appeared quite exquisite, with cursive letters engraved on the pen cap, it was just an ordinary item.

"Still no luck."

Shard sat back on the sofa in disappointment, handing the fountain pen to Dorothy.

"This is an 1844 commemorative Mendi fountain pen."

Dorothy took the pen from Shard’s hand, her tone suggesting he didn’t recognize its value:

"Handmade, commemorating the 300th anniversary of the writing of the ’Poem Collection: Emperor’s Ride,’ only 300 were made, and most were given to famous writers. Each has a special serial number, and last year, an auction house in the city sold one for as high as 287 pounds!"

Apparently, three years ago Dorothy wasn’t considered a famous writer yet, so she had only heard of it.

"Now the total has become 301."

Shard said with a laugh. Dorothy removed the pen cap to check the serial number inscribed inside, then smudged the number with her finger:

"This is mine now."

She said with a smile, examining the fountain pen fondly.

Shard nodded:

"Want to guess what my weekly task is?"

"Since the gift is a pen, is the task to write an article?"

"No, no, the tasks for kids are not that troublesome. It’s penmanship practice, or rather transcription. Transcribing anything will do, with a total of 300 words."

"That old God of Bygone Days sure does favor you, big boy."

Dorothy said softly, extending her right arm to wrap around Shard’s neck, pulling him closer to her:

"I really don’t know in which way you could be classified as a ’boy’."

Visit freewe𝑏nove(l).𝐜𝐨𝗺 for the 𝑏est n𝘰vel reading experience