"Has Miss Bevanna's injury fully healed?"
The flames of the fireplace cast a glow on his young profile as Jenkins casually inquired.
"I don't know. Perhaps you could ask her yourself."
Captain Bincy replied.
After leaving Pops' for the day, he didn't go home for dinner but found a nearby restaurant instead. Once he had eaten, he took a carriage to Sophistus Avenue, where the Nesser & Brolin United Bookstore was located.
Worried about being recognized, he donned his black robe before entering the bookstore.
Just as Mr. Brolin had said, Jenkins's book was displayed in the most prominent spot, visible even from the shop's window outside. As evening approached, the bookstore grew more crowded, and Jenkins observed that most people paused for a moment before the display for "A Frozen Romance".
He wasn't sure if it was because of the exquisitely designed cover or his name in its conspicuous placement, but it was likely a combination of both.
"Hah, Williams's new book."
The customer, of course, had no idea who the slightly heavyset, middle-aged man beside him was, but he too stopped to look at the row of displayed books. Jenkins glanced at him from the corner of his eye. At first, he only found him vaguely familiar, but after a few seconds, he remembered they had met once, months ago.
It seemed like a distant memory now—Miss Mikhail had invited him to a reading salon hosted by a demon, and there had been quite a few other writers in attendance besides Jenkins.
Due to his female companions and other reasons, a small faction had been rather unfriendly to the up-and-coming Jenkins, including a man with a small mustache. Though the mustache was gone now, Jenkins still remembered him. His magnum opus was "A Palace Romance".
It was worth noting that Jenkins only later found out it was an erotic novel. At the time, when they weren't yet well-acquainted, both Miss Mikhail and Miss Hersha had advised him against associating with such a person.
"The fact that he's here means that even though he attended that reading salon, the Church still believes he had nothing to do with the twin demons."
He reasoned internally. He had been about to leave, but since he'd run into someone interesting, he might as well stick around and hear his opinion.
Jenkins mimicked the man's earlier tone. "Hmph, just a lucky fellow. I don't mean to criticize the Church, but I imagine anyone with access to its knowledge and support would be just as successful."
To avoid the mistake of speaking too freely with a stranger, he deliberately spoke in an extremely deep voice. He also took a step forward, pretending not to see the man to his right and slightly behind him.
Sure enough, the man behind him took the bait.
"You're absolutely right. Williams's success isn't his own."
Jenkins immediately turned his head in surprise, as if only just noticing someone was behind him. But his expression quickly settled into one of composure, seeing that the man shared his opinion.
"Of course. To be honest, sir, I even know this renowned young author."
The word "renowned" was clearly meant as sarcasm.
"You can't imagine what his success is built on, can you? No one would believe it, but before last summer, he was just some punk running wild on the streets. Hah! Then, somehow, he became an apprentice at an antique shop, sweet-talked two noble ladies, and leveraged that to get in with the Church. And that's how he got his fame."
Jenkins had no idea where the man had heard all this, but the sequence of events was completely wrong.
He echoed the phrase, then answered his own question. "If that's true, it's quite enviable. Williams certainly has some good luck."
As he spoke, he raised his right hand in an exaggerated gesture.
"A poor boy and noble ladies... an interesting topic."
"Hmph. Lucky." Nᴇw novel chapters are publɪshed on novelFɪre.net
The man beside him sneered. He was about to add another sarcastic comment but saw the stout, middle-aged man he'd been talking to bend down and pick up one of the books.
"Don't you dislike Williams too?"
"Of course. But now I'm genuinely intrigued by the man. I'm going to buy a copy. Perhaps I can figure out the source of his good fortune."
With that, he walked straight to the counter to pay, ignoring the other man's reaction.
Miss Bevanna's injuries seemed to have fully healed. At least, Jenkins couldn't see any of the bruises on her arm caused by the divine power.
When they met in her office, the woman was busy with some documents and asked Jenkins to wait a moment.
She also informed him that the incident at Snowstorm Manor was now being handled. The Kingdom of Cheslan, upon receiving the body of the key keeper—the serial killer—who had been buried in the snow, had readily agreed to pay the bounty. However, the investigation into the manor's doctor had hit a dead end.
On one hand, the materials Jenkins had submitted were not rare texts on necromancy, which made tracing the lead a significant challenge. On the other hand, the apartment building Mr. Dekker had rented two years ago had collapsed during last summer's heavy rains. The landlord's entire family had tragically died in the accident, and to make matters worse, the tenant records were missing. Now, no one knew who had left those items inside the walls.
Furthermore, because Jenkins hadn't reported anything about Quake, and since his body was also missing, the police had officially declared him dead.
But Quake's father, an old earl currently far away in Bel Diran, refused to accept this outcome. Franklin Quake was the fifty-year-old man's only son and the sole heir to the entire Quake family.
"Just you wait, you filthy people, you despicable murderers! Just wait! Wait for the Quake family's revenge!"
Those, according to Miss Bevanna, were Earl Quake's exact words.
"So, what does he plan to do?"
"The Church isn't concerned with what he wants to do, and you needn't worry either. Even if he wants revenge, he won't come after you. After all, you weren't the organizer or the venue provider for that trip. The Kingdom will soothe Earl Quake's temper and hope he doesn't do anything irrational."
Miss Bevanna didn't elaborate, but her statement that the Kingdom was keeping an eye on him implied they were well aware the old earl might, in fact, do something irrational.