"The last time we invited you to a ball, you could barely dance."
Hathaway wasn't suspicious; she was simply teasing. Jenkins recognized this, so he brushed her off with a casual excuse.
In truth, the point of a ball wasn't the dancing, but the socializing—a lesson Miss Stuart had taught him. Jenkins couldn't agree more, because whenever he sat down to rest, someone would invariably sit beside him to discuss the most bizarre topics.
This forced Jenkins to repeatedly get up and ask the young ladies to dance just to escape the tedious conversations. Hathaway and Briny both seemed delighted, especially when they noticed that Jenkins always alternated between them, inviting each in turn.
"What are you thinking about?"
The music suddenly softened. The red-haired young woman leaned close to Jenkins, her face near his, and whispered in his ear.
She had hoped Jenkins might say something romantic, and though she knew the chances were slim, she never imagined his thoughts could wander so far afield on an occasion .
"I'm still thinking about that murder from earlier."
His tone was perfectly serious.
Hathaway had to admit, she was genuinely starting to get angry.
"I'm not sure. Both of those men were ordinary, but..."
He guided his partner toward the edge of the dance floor, and only when he was sure no one was paying attention did he dare to continue.
"But the man who shot himself at the end... there was something not right about the pistol in his hand."
Hathaway asked in astonishment.
"No, how could we possibly run into two different numbered items within three hours?"
Jenkins explained, swaying gently to the rhythm of the saxophones and clarinets.
He glanced aside and saw Briny with Chocolate, which set his mind at ease.
"What I mean is, that pistol had been altered in some way. I don't know what kind of ritual was used, but I'm certain its origins are anything but simple." Nᴇw novel chapters are publɪshed on novelꞁire.net
What he'd actually seen through his Eye of Reality was a piercing black aura. If his companions hadn't been with him, curiosity might have compelled him to stay and find out what was going on. But Briny was there, and he had to ensure her safety.
"Are those two men connected to an Enchanter?"
"It's also possible some reckless Enchanter sold a ritually altered pistol. You know how it is—some unlucky soul, short on cash, might sell something relatively harmless to a normal person to make ends meet."
Just as he finished speaking, the music ended. Jenkins led Hathaway back to a nearby sofa where Briny brought them both glasses of juice. She knew how much he disliked alcohol.
Her hand came to rest naturally on Jenkins's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. Considering the relationship between Briny and Hathaway, coupled with her question, Jenkins found the moment a little awkward.
"I'm fine, Briny. I may not look like I exercise much, but just walking my cat every day is workout enough."
With that, he drained his glass, gave the disgruntled, and long-neglected, cat a pat, and then took Briny's hand, leading her back onto the dance floor.
"Do you see those two young ladies? The ones coming down from the second floor."
Their hands were clasped, and the blonde young woman's other hand rested on his shoulder. As she spoke, she subtly gestured with her eyes, prompting Jenkins to look to his right.
"Look. The taller one is Duke Francis's cousin. The shorter one is a foreign countess, here with the delegation from the Kingdom of Cheslan."
"They look very young."
Jenkins remarked quietly.
"Oh, what I mean is... the countess may look young, but I think you and Hathaway are much prettier."
From any other man on an occasion , such a comment would have been irritating. Only Jenkins could make it sound so endearingly clumsy. But Briny didn't mind it at all; that clumsiness was proof that he was, and could only be, Jenkins Williams.
The name 'Duke Francis' sounded familiar to Jenkins. He racked his brain for a moment before he remembered the unfortunate man who had died in the Twin Demons incident. After the old Duke Francis passed away, his son inherited the title and sent his cousin to Nolan to deal with their old summer vacation castle. It was when Jenkins and Papa Oliver had gone to that very castle to look for valuables that they'd stumbled into a Mysterious Realm. That was also when Jenkins had first met Professor Burns.
"I heard she's here in Nolan to collect the remains of that cousin of the Duke."
"But that person died almost six months ago. Why wait until now to...?"
"Frankly, it's a miracle the young Duke remembered he even had a cousin who died so far from home."
Briny remarked sarcastically.
Speaking of foreign nobles, it was hard not to recall the incident from earlier that week, when an enforcement squad from the Sage's Church had collided with the delegation's motorcade.
Jenkins didn't pay much mind to such matters, but the incident had caused quite a stir among the general public. The visiting delegation, which was supposed to have left Nolan by next week, was now planning to extend their stay by another week just to see what the Sage's Church was up to.
Briny didn't think for a moment that Jenkins had anything to do with it; she was just sharing the gossip with a mocking tone. The target of her derision was, of course, those 'southerners.' To the people of the Fidektri Kingdom, people from the south were all boorish and arrogant.
"Is that foreign duke here tonight?"
Jenkins remembered the man vividly. Not only was he a follower of the Sage, but he was also, astonishingly, an Enchanter.
"I doubt it. The host of this ball doesn't exactly have the clout to invite a duke they don't know."
At this, Hathaway chuckled softly, as if recalling something amusing.
"Then again, that duke is hardly what you'd call a proper gentleman. I've heard from my friends that since his arrival, he hasn't been interested in socializing at all. Instead, he's been frequenting the opera, concert halls, and even the circus. He seems to have an obsession with the stage—such a strange quirk."
Jenkins just smiled, offering no comment.
The crystal chandelier overhead cast a mesmerizing glow, illuminating the young revelers below. Whether they were enjoying the ball or not, they were all participants.
It was like the stage of destiny; the moment you stepped onto it, you were no longer in control. Jenkins held fate in awe, yet he couldn't tell if he was merely a player on its stage, or simply a spectator.