As the sun set, the tented grounds of the royal hunting grounds in Ruen bustled with activity. Servants and attendants hurried between banner-adorned pavilions while proud nobles gathered in clusters, boasting of their latest hauls. The most impressive catch of the day, it seemed, belonged to a viscount from the countryside—some 'country bumpkin' who'd had the sheer luck to stumble upon a wild boar so late in the season.
The two young ladies flaunting their prizes before Miss Stuart had, of course, made their own catches. But their true purpose here was far from a simple display of hunting prowess.
Jenkins's most practical solution would have been to immediately return to Nolan City, purchase a sufficiently impressive 'trophy,' and then brazenly have the Star Spirit teleport it back. But he would never resort to such a crass measure. The writer had a much better idea.
The two young noblewomen's prizes weren't boars or anything of the sort—no one would have believed them even if they had managed such a feat. Instead, the servants behind them held cages, each containing a dove. They were Antwerp Doves, one of the few hardy species capable of surviving the northern kingdom's harsh winters. Jenkins had seen them soaring through the sky frequently over the last few days. One had even tried to alight on his shoulder, only to be narrowly missed by a pouncing Chocolate, who was displaying his hunting instincts for the very first time.
The two doves, housed in simple cages woven from twigs and vines, bore no visible fatal wounds, yet they appeared listless and dejected. One of them, however, seemed to sense Jenkins's gaze and fluttered its wings uncertainly.
Placing the eager cat from his shoulder to one side and bidding it to wait, Jenkins straightened his attire, ready to begin his performance.
Alexia stood just behind him, a faint smile playing on her lips, eager to see what the writer had in mind.
"...you see, catching an Antwerp Dove is no simple feat. We may sacrifice brawn for elegance, but we can certainly use our wits to accomplish what men do. Just yesterday evening, I laid out a trail of grain on the snow..."
"Ahem, pardon the interruption, Your Highness!"
Dolores Stuart was suddenly immensely grateful to Julia for insisting she wear the red scarf, for without it, anyone nearby would have surely noticed the blush flooding her cheeks.
She nodded, feigning understanding, and then dismissed the rather impertinent manservant, Pollo.
She had always detested dealing with the tiresome antics of her peers—it was all so immature. Today, for the first time, she was actually enjoying herself. A flawless, ladylike smile gracing her lips, she remarked nonchalantly:
"A woman's wisdom is certainly not to be underestimated, but I believe that more important than wisdom are compassion and gentleness. Oh, just look at these two adorable creatures, cooped up so pitifully in your cages. It's really quite..."
She shook her head, letting her words trail off.
Miss Jones and Miss Borbo froze, clearly not anticipating such a reply. They exchanged a glance, and one of them cleared her throat, both subconsciously taking a small step away from the birdcages.
They were, after all, only two immature young women. Such a tactic would have had little effect on older, married ladies.
Miss Stuart called out again.
"Present, Your Highness. What are your orders?"
Jenkins reappeared as if from nowhere.
"Those two Antwerp Doves look so pathetic," she declared. "Go and fetch them something to eat."
"Of course, Your Highness."
As she spoke, the servants from around the camp had imperceptibly gathered nearby. Before the two young ladies' attendants could even react, the birdcages were whisked from their hands.
The cages were opened, and a man—Jenkins, of course—gently lifted out the two weary doves. They seemed to instantly regain their vitality, pecking eagerly at the offered grains.
Once they had eaten their fill, they spread their wings and soared into the sky. They circled twice over Miss Stuart's head, a deliberate display for all the onlookers in the camp, before flying off toward the distant horizon.
"My apologies," Dolores said. "I seem to have accidentally let your prizes go. I shall of course compensate you. Please send the bill to my maid."
Despite her words, Miss Stuart's expression was utterly devoid of guilt. She gazed into the distance, watching the two white doves fly away, as if celebrating their newfound freedom.
Everyone nearby witnessed the scene. In stark contrast, the two young ladies who had captured the doves, despite having succeeded in their hunt, now seemed... well, less admirable. After all, men were drawn to gentle, kind-hearted women, not necessarily those skilled at trapping birds.
Miss Jones and Miss Borbo glared at Princess Dolores, their mouths opening and closing as they fought the urge to retort. Realizing that lingering would only make them look foolish, they offered a few stiff pleasantries before turning to leave.
Their farewells were polite on the surface, of course, but as they walked away, they radiated an air of utter exasperation.
By now, Jenkins had shed his persona as Pollo and was standing with Alexia, watching Princess Dolores approach them.
"You healed those two doves?"
"Yes," Jenkins confirmed. "I've noticed that ever since that dream in the tavern, my connection to the spirit of life has grown stronger. The doves were likely trying to thank me, which is why they circled overhead before flying off." ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ novelFirｅ.net
He had been standing very close to Princess Dolores at the time.
Alexia murmured to herself.
She knew perfectly well that ordinary healing abilities didn't work like that. Jenkins's current display was reminiscent of the fabled talents of the elves... Audrey hadn't shared everything with her dear friend, but now, Alexia was beginning to grasp the truth.
Her gaze drifted to Jenkins's slightly pointed ears, and she recalled their shared experience witnessing the birth of the Evergreen Forest. Her eyes twinkled, and her smile grew wider.
The end of the hunt and the matter of a missing prince were of no concern to Jenkins. As the hunting party made their way back to the city, he bid farewell to his friends and returned to Nolan City alone. Princess Dolores had extended an invitation to the royal palace, but Jenkins was exhausted from the day's events.
His excursion to the frigid north had certainly lifted his troubled spirits, but he would never forget the scene he had witnessed at the tombstone earlier that day.
He swore an oath to himself: if the opportunity ever arose, he would avenge that family. They were strangers to him, but the deaths of innocents had stirred a profound rage within him.
Early on Sunday morning at Pops Antique Shop, Jenkins wasn't met with any updates on the undead incident. Instead, a detective from KalFax Field was waiting for him.