Thalia snuck out of Eleanore’s family manor in the early hours of the morning, conveniently forgetting to notify her friend she was leaving. She knew when Eleanore woke up and found her missing she’d be absolutely livid, but their argument the night before remained unresolved and Thalia didn’t have the heart to try to avoid her friend in her own manor. Thalia had told Ellie she’d needed to stop at her house and get clothes, her spare uniform, and some toiletries. Eleanore had been less than thrilled by the notion of her returning home, a dissatisfaction had turned into a slow burning irritation had exploded when Eleanore had realized Thalia would only need her uniform if she intended to go back to work.
“Someone broke into your home, Thalia. Tearing up your place was a threat, and there’s only one thing in your life worth threatening you over.” Eleanore did her best to convey her seriousness, but she squeaked when she got irate and it was very hard for Thalia to take her seriously.
“You think they’re threatening me over the investigation? I’m barely even involved, Inquirer Reid’s made sure of .” Thalia replied, bitterness tinging her words. “I don’t know anything worth threatening me over.”
“Then why was your place busted up? Why wasn’t Inquirer Reid targeted?”
“I don’t know, I really don’t. Whoever it is though, I doubt they’re still lurking around.” Thalia said wryly.
She’d let the matter drop and retired to Eleanore’s guest bedroom, claiming she was exhausted by the events of the day. And she had been exhausted, but she’d intended to get an early night’s rest so she could slip out of the house in the wee hours of the morning. Now here she was, walking briskly through the pre-dawn light. The streets were mostly empty, the occasional pedestrian hurrying past with their shoulders drawn high to ward off the light breeze carried with it an unseasonal chill. Most businesses she passed already had someone inside, preparing for the coming day.
Thalia’s subconscious routed her to the kebab stall instinctively, realizing with disappointment he probably wasn’t awake yet. She frowned and stalked down a side street, hunching her own shoulders as the tips of her ears grew cold. She kept a rapid pace and it wasn’t long until she was walking down her street, past the homes of her neighbors, glad none of them were out and about this early. The arrival of the Wardens, whom she’d called for after discovering her house in a complete state of disarray, had not been a secret, and many of her neighbors had spent the night alternating between rubbernecking around the Wardens and consoling Thalia in between bouts of questioning. Various wardens had arrived, interrogated her, and called their superiors. The process repeated itself all the way up to Inquirer Reid himself who took one look at her weary expression, and Eleanore’s frothing-at-the-mouth rage, and told her to go get some sleep.
She’d like to avoid another scene like the night before, with her neighbors fussing and cooing over her. So she skulked down familiar streets that were made slightly sinister by the memories of the night before. Latent tension and fear seemed to weigh on her shoulders as she began to dread what she might find waiting for her in her home. She jogged the last little bit of the way, fumbling numbly in her pocket for the key to her home. Thalia bit her lip and steadied her breathing, suddenly realizing she was terrified of opening her own front door.
She managed to get her key in the lock on her second try, and before her fear could stop her she pushed the door open and stumbled into her home. A harsh exhalation, disbelief and shock, hissed passed her lips as she regarded her foyer. She’d expected to see a mess, the ruin of her home ruthlessly combed over by the Wardens investigating the scene. What she hadn’t expected were the flower petals, oblong little ovals of soft white, strewn across the floor and the ruined remains of her furniture. A cursory glance confirmed they were from the same white chrysanthemums, but hardly registered. Someone had been in her house, again, since she’d been gone.
Her fear was pushed aside to make room for rage, her nails biting into the flesh of her palms as her fists clenched. Her lip biting grew in ferocity, until it could almost be called a gnashing, even as she struggled to still her heart. She moved into her home with soft steps, closing the door lightly behind her as she caressed the pommel of her baton. It reassured her, its weight and presence, as she crept through the building. In a less tense situation she might have scoffed at the idea of having to creep around her own home like a burglar, but the tension balled up in her throat silencing any mirth.
Slipping down the hall like a shadow she checked each room as she passed, a grim mirror of the day before when she’d returned to find her home in tatters. Curiously, other than the petals strewn all about, there was little out of place in her home. It was hard to be certain given the chaos, but everything seemed to be in the same spot as it had been when the Warden’s left the day before. The curtains were drawn but the morning light managed to sneak in, turning the ruined vestiges of her furniture into ominously looming shadows. The sunbeams shone a spotlight on dust motes dancing in the face of her surreptitious movements, and in her wake. She reached the end of the hall, the only room left unchecked in the house, her own bedroom. She set her jaw and reached for the door, struck by the eerie feeling she was being watched.
Spurred on by thoughts of unseen observers she pushed the door open bodily, twisting to slam it closed behind her. Her momentary glance down the hall failed to reveal any lurking intruders, and the feeling of being watched did not fade even as the door shut. She scanned the bedroom with her gaze, confirming there was no one in the room either. Haunted by feeling she could not justify, by the itch between her shoulders that told her someone had their eyes on her, she took long strides across the room to her dresser. She stopped on the way to grab her travel bag from a dusty corner of her closet. She packed as quickly as she could, a feeling of panic creeping in on her, the desire to flee growing right alongside it. She crammed garments into her bag almost randomly, haphazardly taking whatever was in her reach.
Before long she’d crammed her travel bag full to bursting with clothes and found herself struggling to tie it closed. She grasped the fabric around the mouth of the bag tightly in one first, straining to cinch it closed with the leather cord intended for purpose. After a few half-muttered curses and angry jabs meant to compress the clothes that little bit more she needed, she tied the opening shut. The bag bulged and the seams strained under the load, but she still allowed herself a feeling of momentary triumph. She reveled in it for only a moment, unwilling to linger here long. It was at that moment she realized, with growing horror, something she had missed in her hurry to get into her bedroom.
Her bedroom, unlike every other corner of the house, was completely remade. Every scar, every bit of debris, all of it vanished like the last vestiges of a nightmare. Her nightstand and dresser, both shattered and broken when she’d seen them last, were whole again. Closer inspection failed to even find any scars, their wooden frames smooth and unblemished. Her bed was made, neatly put together with the pillow and blanket whole and unblemished. In fact, there wasn’t a single rogue feather anywhere in sight despite the sea of down feathers had been strewn about. Her room looked like it had never been touched.
, in particular, sickened her. It felt like someone was playing with her life, unmaking and remaking her most private and secure place at their own whim. Her stomach roiled with stress, forcing her to squeeze her eyes shut and take a deep breath. Who knew a return to normalcy could be so shocking in the right context? Whatever the case, she wasn’t going to stay in this unwanted and unlooked-for bastion of order in the chaos was her home. To her eyes it was clearly the mouth of the flytrap, intending to close on her the instant she let it. Rather than think over the implications of it here and now, she turned her back on it and, upon double checking she was ready, prepared to leave.
If the sight of her bedroom remade had been a slight breeze to ruffle the hair of her composure and courage, the sights she saw jogging back to the door were a hurricane. The slightly horrified worry she felt grew into abject terror as she saw each room she passed was put back together like the break-in had never happened, like the wardens hadn’t ransacked her home for clues. Furniture stood tall and unblemished, the floors swept clean. Her bathroom mirror was whole and clear, the water-stained floorboards now shining with a lacquered finish in the first rays of the sun. Her kitchen was no longer full of shards of broken crockery and disarrayed cutlery. The house had minutes before held the ruined remains of her personal life now looked pristine, hardly lived in. Her panic, redoubled by each miraculously clean and intact room she passed, drove her to sprint down the hall, her pack of clothes slapping against her back. Thalia hardly stopped as she hit the front door, throwing it open and leaping from her porch to land in a skidding stop on the street outside.
Almost as soon as she had cleared her threshold the feeling of being watched had dissipated, leaving her strangely calm as the tattered remnants of her mind-numbing panic drained away like rain down the gutter. Panting with exertion, she looked back at where the front door had rebounded shut with the force of her exit, half expecting something or someone to pursue her. With a shudder she readjusted the bag on her shoulder and walked away. Her pace noticeable quickening after the distinct sound of her door locking pierced through the still morning air. She was at the end of the block when her stomach growled, startling her out of her paranoia. With a small laugh she decided she’d get a kebab on the way home.
***
“You went back to your house? Without telling me?” Eleanore all but yelled, dropping her fork and knife onto her plate with a clatter.
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Thalia shushed her as she made soothing motions with her hands, smiling apologetically to the family at the table next to them. The Warden idly fingered the neckline of her shirt, frowning inwardly. She’d hoped her friend wouldn’t think too hard about Thalia’s fashion choices tonight, preferring to enjoy each other’s company. After all, Thalia had little in the way of clothes when she’d first come to Eleanore, but she’d salvaged what she could earlier that day. This outfit was one of the few she’d managed to reclaim, the dress shirt and trouser she had worn to her graduation into the Wardens. Of course her eagle-eyed friend had noticed, though the ruse had lasted until the appetizers were cleared.
“Quiet down would you? This is a pretty nice place you got us into here, and I’d at least like to try my dinner before they kick us out.” She waved her hand in a shushing motion at Eleanore, earning herself a stinging slap on the wrist and a wicked glare from the fierce little inventor.
“Hey!” Thalia hissed sullenly, massaging the back of her hand. “I know you didn’t want me to go but I needed to pick up some clothes at least. Besides, you don’t handle spooky stuff well, you would have hated it.”
“I hate it more you did it all alone, and hid it from me!” Eleanore replied, slumping into her chair as she sulked. She looked at Thalia and scowled. “Oh, get stupid grin off your face.”
“You’re so cute when you worry about me though.” Thalia teased, lapsing into comfortable silence as the waiter came with their food.
All joking aside, Eleanore was not prone to baring her thoughts and feelings in public, in front of strangers. She was easily embarrassed, and Thalia was loath to even accidentally shame her friend. It didn’t matter to Eleanore if she was the only one who felt embarrassed, or even if the embarrassment was in front of a waiter who would forget them moments after they walked out the door, she hated it all the same. So Thalia made sure to only poke fun at her friend when it was the two of them. It was blessedly easy for Thalia to change tack, the arrival of her food consuming her focus. She had ordered a simple beef stew, and relished every savory spoonful of it. It was inconceivably difficult to ruin a beef stew, and the dish was far safer than the fancy, exotic food the restaurant intended to serve to their high status patrons.
It wasn’t often she ate in establishments like this. Food stalls were one thing, but establishments where you sat down and ate were a relatively new import, brought in by immigrants traveling from across the seas. The closest thing Midburg had to restaurants before their arrival were taverns and pubs, where you could get something to snack on while you drank. The fare there was simple, pleasant in its own right, but lacking the complexity, skill, and care these restaurants displayed.
These establishments remained a novelty, primarily enjoyed by the well-to-do but Thalia suspected it wouldn’t be long before similar places opened up for commoners. Likely with simpler dishes than what the upper classes ate, for it seemed like the dishes of the wealthy were a status symbol in their own right. Many were complex and foreign, requiring esoteric practices to enjoy them properly. It seemed as though it was a badge of honor to be capable of eating the most disgusting, complex, or challenging dishes. And the more obscure and mysterious the dish, the more expensive they got.
Thalia looked at Eleanore's dish, a far more complex thing than her own stew. It had a name in a foreign tongue Thalia didn’t dare try to pronounce, and had a similarly alien method of consumption. Little shelled creatures, boiled until the shells turned dark, were cracked open. The insides of the shell were scooped out with a specialized spoon that had sharp, serrated edges. They were then laid onto a thin slab of meat, cut from an opalescent steak that reminded Thalia of abalone shells. It was then rolled up, skewered, and dipped in a brown sauce that singed Thalia’s nostrils when she smelled it. Lastly it was coated in shredded greens before being eaten, the entire roll consumed in one bite. Thalia couldn’t help but wonder how it tasted, and imagined it was quite savory.
“Hey Ellie, what is that? What does it taste like?” Thalia asked excitedly. She met Eleanore’s disapproving gaze and realized her friend had said something she had completely missed. “Sorry, were you saying something?”
“It’s fine, this behavior is hardly surprising to me anymore. It’s called sarendi and it tastes a lot like lamb chops, actually. The sauce is a butter and spice sauce, and the veggies include green onions.” Eleanore explained as she made a roll, skewering and dunking it in the sauce. When it was done she held it out to Thalia, who chewed it thoughtfully before deciding her friend was right.
“As for what I was saying before,” Eleanore continued, giving Thalia a pointed look Thalia responded to by doing her level best to appear attentive. “I was asking if you had told Inquirer Reid about your experience at your home?”
“Yes, I stopped by the office after I got my kebabs.” Thalia growled out her reply, scowling reflexively. “He chewed me out for going back to my house unaccompanied.”
Thalia bit back a snide remark as a smug “I-told-you-so” expression spread across Eleanore’s face. She frowned at her friend in mock anger before continuing.
“He sent a few of the Warden’s over who’d investigated the house day. They confirmed what I saw, it was like nothing had happened. The old timers were pale as corpses, couldn’t stop muttering prayers and making curse wards every time they saw me for the rest of the day. After that drama, Reid decided I needed a few more days off. Probably at least partly because the old timers could hardly stand to be in the same room as me.”
“Elderly superstitions aside, Inquirer Reid isn't wrong. Someone came and trashed your house, and either the same person or someone else entirely came and put it back together like it was all a dream. You could act a little more distressed.” Eleanore said primly between bites of her meal. “I’m genuinely surprised he didn’t take you off of the case.”
“Oh, he tried. I was basically begging him to let me stay on. I think he only caved because he didn’t want to see me cry.” Thalia admitted wryly. “In any case, I doubt I’ll be doing anything but desk work from here on out.”
Eleanore looked like she wanted to say something, but instead let out a long, exasperated sigh before returning to her meal. The conversation drifted to lighter topics from there, due in no small part to Thalia’s subtle directions. She asked about Elenaore’s projects and plans, something Eleanore couldn’t help but gush about. She went into great detail, at length, which spared Thalia from having to talk anymore about her home or her work. The mere mention earlier had reignited the eerie feeling of eyes on her back, and she worried she wouldn’t sleep soundly that night.
Besides, I really do enjoy listening to Ellie ramble about her passion projects. It’s like she has endless enthusiasm.
Time passed quickly as Eleanore planned the next stage in her automaton development out loud, Thalia doing little more than making vague noises of assent or curiosity to keep her friend going. Eleanore was so invested Thalia had to flag down their waiter to get their check herself, her friend only breaking her rambling to protest as Thalia paid for her portion of the meal. They stepped outside into the cool evening air, the breeze biting at Thalia’s skin a bit more than she expected. Eleanore shivered beside her, and only then did Thalia really take in her friend’s outfit. Thalia was not overly acquainted with women’s fashion, through a mix of her job requiring her to wear trousers and her own disinterest. She hardly deviated from her uniform on her days off, and even now wore pants offered her comfort and freedom of movement.
Eleanore, on the other hand, was a lady and her dress was likely to be on the cutting edge of what was fashionable. In many instances Eleanore herself made certain styles fashionable, even though her friend seemed to lack any understanding of just how much social pull she had. It was a simple affair, a red sheath dress clung to her skin almost desperately. It accentuated her figure, coming down from her right shoulder to wrap around her breasts and her waist. There it blossomed out a little, a pattern of faux layers working elements of black fabric into the dress did nothing to hide her wide hips, indeed almost seeming to enhance and embolden them, the ruffles ending in an asymmetrical hem exposed a little of her left thigh.
Thalia shook her head in wonder her Eleanore, little Ellie, could wear something so bold. she could wear it so confidently. Thalia still remembered the meek girl who had hid behind the school, working on little gadgets and gizmos far from the eyes of her peers or her teachers. It made her glad to see her friend’s confidence growing, even if the dress left her arms bare and exposed to the cold. Eleanore rubbed at her upper arms with her hands for a moment before giving up and cupping them in front of her face, breathing into them to warm her chilled fingers.
Thalia removed her overcoat, only recently reclaimed from the restaurant’s coat rack, with a small flourish. She set onto Eleanore’s shoulder’s gently, pulling it tight around her front to shield her from the chill. Eleanore looked up in surprise, gratitude flashing in her eyes as she took hold of the fabric, holding it close.
“Thanks.” Eleanore mumbled, tucking her face under the collar of the coat. Thalia thought she was trying to heat the inside of the jacket with her breath.
“Of course, my lady. May I walk you home?” Thalia’s voice dripped with overacted chivalry, which Eleanore ignored gracefully.
“You may.” Eleanore secured the collar of the coat with one hand, extending the other from the folds of the coat.
She let it dangle limp at the wrist, intending to be led by the hand. Instead she found herself letting out a yelp of surprise as Thalia took her hand and kissed her fingertips teasingly. Thalia glanced up at her friend to see her face buried even further into the jacket, only glittering eyes visible. Eyes rolled at her in exasperation, causing Thalia to giggle.
“You look good in that dress, Ellie. I’m glad you wore it, even if it is a little cold out.” Thalia said. Scooting to the side as they maneuvered past another group walking the other way down the street.
“Ah, finally you say something! I was worried you didn’t even see it.” Eleanore said with a playful frown. “You’re supposed to compliment the lady when you first see her, not at the end of the date. Don’t think acting the gentleman now is going to get me to forgive you either. No matter how much you flatter me you’re still not off the hook for leaving me behind today.”
“I’m not trying to flatter my way out of trouble or anything. I’m just thinking, you should keep that dress tabbed for when you find a suitor you like out of all the ones your mom’s arranging for you.” Thalia felt she’d made a mistake as soon as she finished her sentence.
“Oh yeah, you’re definitely going to be helping me in the lab tomorrow. No vacation for you, miss.” Eleanore said, giggling as Thalia let out a groan.
As the sky darkened and the streets emptied, their banter became the only noise to be heard. Thalia relaxed, for tonight she wouldn’t be alone. She’d be with a friend, and far from her house, the source of her anxieties. Yet for some reason, she couldn’t seem to shake the feeling she was being watched.