Worried about losing the two young women in the throng, Jenkins reached back and took their hands. He cast aside all thoughts of decorum, murmuring apologies as he forged a path through the dense crowd. His strength was astonishing, and though some of the people he jostled wanted to complain, one look at his face filled them with an inexplicable sense of dread and unease.
Jenkins was oblivious to the fact that whenever he was in a foul mood, strangers—unlike his close acquaintances—would instinctively shy away from meeting his gaze.
It was no small feat to break free from the crush of people at the entrance, especially with Jenkins trying to shield his friends from any unwanted advances. By the time they finally escaped the multitude, they were near the street corner. Jenkins glanced at his shoulder, only to find the cat had vanished. He looked up and spotted it perched lazily atop a mailbox, looking as if it had been waiting for quite some time.
"That was far too reckless."
His heart still pounding, Jenkins glanced back at the increasingly tumultuous street behind them. He then guided the young women around the corner and onto a quieter lane, where they hailed a carriage to take them toward the eastern district.
"So, what exactly happened back there?" the blonde young woman asked, her curiosity unabated.
"Well... a gun, and then... boom."
He offered a simple explanation, shaping a round object with his hands before his chest. As the word "boom" left his lips, he splayed his fingers outward, mimicking an explosion. Jenkins silently hoped he hadn't frightened Briny, but she didn't seem the least bit fazed.
Jenkins shrugged, his gaze drifting to the window. He had no desire to dwell on the subject with the young women—or more precisely, with Briny.
Their lunch plans had been thoroughly spoiled. Jenkins had considered finding another restaurant, but with the ball fast approaching and the promise of food there, he decided against it.
The carriage first took the trio and their feline companion to Hathaway's temporary residence by the river, allowing the young women to change into their ball gowns. Hathaway's dress was an elegant, pale blue, adorned with translucent ribbons of a material Jenkins couldn't identify. They seemed almost out of place in this era, and if they were genuine silk, the cost would be staggering.
Briny's gown, in contrast, featured a wine-red bodice over a black skirt. Adorned with exquisite lace and a series of unfamiliar patterns encircling her waist, the ensemble retained a youthful charm, avoiding any hint of excessive maturity.
Compared to their meticulous preparations, Jenkins, in his standard black suit and white shirt, looked rather conventional. He staunchly refused any clothing with lace and had a strong aversion to colors beyond black and white.
In fact, had it not been for Miss Stuart's prior warning that a bow tie, not a necktie, was required for a ball, he might very well have shown up wearing a black tie, looking as though he were heading to a formal meeting.
While Jenkins went upstairs to change, Hathaway and Briny waited for him on the first floor of his house. The two of them were already aware of his peculiar habit of sleeping by the fireplace during the winter, so the sight of blankets on the sofa didn't surprise them.
Still, they had to admit that for a man living alone, he kept the place remarkably tidy. It wasn't rigidly neat, but it was far from messy.
Respectful of his privacy, the two young women confined themselves to the living room. As Briny's gaze drifted upward to the sword Jenkins had mounted on the wall—the very one he had received upon his initial enfeoffment—she heard a strange noise from behind her.
When she turned, she saw Chocolate trotting out from the kitchen, pushing an enormous red fruit across the floor. The cat's small frame only served to accentuate the sheer size of the fruit.
At first, Briny couldn't quite make out what it was. It took her a moment to realize it was a dragon fruit.
"How on earth does Jenkins have one of these? It's the middle of winter, and don't these only grow in the south...?"
She bent over, intending to pick the fruit up from the rug, but was instantly met with a low, menacing hiss from Chocolate. Hearing the commotion, Hathaway quickly came over and gently pulled Briny back by the hand.
"Chocolate doesn't like anyone touching its things. Uh, that's what Jenkins told me."
"But how does he even have this kind of fruit?"
"It was probably a gift from the Church," Hathaway suggested. "You know, his standing in the Legacy Sage Church is quite significant these days."
As she explained, Hathaway silently cursed Jenkins for not tidying up his strange possessions. She knew the fruit platter it came from was an item from one of Mr. Hood's gatherings, which was why Jenkins had never shown it to her. For now, she could only assume he had used some bizarre method to acquire such an unseasonable fruit.
When a newly dressed Jenkins descended the stairs, his eyes immediately fell on Chocolate and its attempted snack. It was the first time the platter had produced such a fruit, and while the cat was intrigued, it couldn't figure out how to peel it, resorting to batting it around on the rug in frustration.
The cat only settled down after Jenkins promised to cut up the fruit for it when they returned that evening. It then eyed his formal attire with suspicion, clearly worried it might be left behind.
As it turned out, this was a private affair—more of a lively get-together for young people to socialize and have fun than a formal ball. Consequently, no one raised an eyebrow at Jenkins arriving with his pet in tow.
The party was held in a grand mansion on the outskirts of the city, the property of a wealthy merchant who had generously lent out his home for the occasion, likely in an attempt to curry favor with one of the organizers.
"I'm not entirely sure myself," Hathaway explained as she stepped down from the carriage. "I only overheard them talking about it at the club a few days ago." Briny, for her part, hadn't paid much attention to the conversation at the time.
Jenkins recognized very few of the young attendees, but it seemed every one of them recognized him. His arrival was met with a wave of enthusiasm, particularly from the young ladies, whose fervor seemed almost capable of bursting the seams of their gowns. Fortunately, his companions remained close by, their watchful eyes preventing any untoward advances.
Jenkins rarely attended such gatherings; the most lavish ball of his experience was still the one in Ruen. He found that Hathaway was a much more skilled dancer than Miss Stuart, perhaps because her taller stature made her a better match for him on the dance floor. They moved together with a natural grace.
Briny, on the other hand, was a far less practiced dancer. Jenkins, ever the gentleman, didn't mention it, even feigning a bit of clumsiness himself to match her steps. After two songs, the blonde-haired young woman actually complimented him on his remarkable improvement. Official source ıs novel·fıre·net