act30side

I hope you haven't forgotten why we're here.

(This is the last one. Nothing out of the ordinary.)

(Except Viscount Craigavon and the girl with him...)

(That one traveling with the Viscount... Who exactly is she? It seems I must look into this once I get back.)

(But first, I should finish checking this last cabin—)

Pardon—

Hm?

Please excuse me.

Phew...

No, that's impossible.

The intel says she is training new recruits in the mountains. She can't be here.

She shouldn't be...

Need something?

If you need something, out with it. Or is it so much fun to open random doors?

(It really is her...?! The Black Knight who works for the Silverashes...?)

(There are bloodstains on her hands. Who forced her hand?)

(...This is bad.)

(But this also means the intel's not wrong. There's trouble on this route.)

No, before I consider that...

Who are the intelligence officers in charge of watching Degenbrecher...?

Ah, there we are.

For them to miss such an important piece of information... They can expect to see a court-martial.

Intelligence officers, you say?

Don't blame them. There aren't many who can keep up with me.

Thank you for speaking up for them.

It's the truth.

Now, tell me what you're doing here.

Surely you must have already come up with an excuse or two?

Trilby Asher?

...That's the honey drink I'm talking about. It's got a sweet taste at first, but I didn't expect it to hit me so hard after!

It wasn't really all that bad, though. My friend said I was honey drunk, but in the end, I was as sober as can be, and she was totally wasted.

Hm? Hey? Dedushka?

Hey! Are you listening?

Hmm...

Oh?

Forgive me, Rosalind. What did you just say?

She was totally blitzed on honey!

Oh, right, right. Of course, on honey.

Ugh... c'mon...

If you have something on your mind, you should just deal with it.

You're barely even here. How are we supposed to have a conversation?

No, no, there is nothing more worthy of my attention than your story right now.

Please, tell me more about honey drunkenness. If I recall correctly, they do offer specialty beverages made with honey on this train.

Alright, that's enough.

My eyes are pretty sharp. You've been acting weird since that guy in the hat showed up.

Is he your friend...? No, you don't look like friends.

So you must be enemies?

Not quite.

Perhaps the two of us can just barely be described as colleagues. We don't work for the same department of the company, however.

Okay, so he's a colleague you don't get along with, bumping into you on vacation.

I love the way you describe it.

Right then, Rosalind. I'll admit I'm a little worried my colleague may not get his work done quite satisfactorily, so please excuse me for a short while.

By way of apology, I will secure for you a honey beverage. Its main ingredient is a Kjerag specialty, highland honey. Each and every drop is Kjeragandr's blessing, pure and unadulterated...

Really? I'm pretty much desensitized to all that Kjeragandr marketing talk though...

Without a doubt.

But you did tell me your friend said you get honey drunk, so I'd like us to make a promise to one other. One bottle per day, at most. Let's keep you from actually getting drunk on our trip.

There's no need for things to be so tense between us, Madam Degenbrecher.

Her Grace's heart lies with Karlan Trade, and she is also keenly interested in Kjerag's continued development. It is my job to keep an eye on all aspects of the country.

This is no different. There's no reason for you to be on alert.

So your job description includes visiting train cabins?

The changes this place has been through are quite shocking, are they not?

From what I understand, they've deployed Victorian rolling stock on this route extending from the foot of Mount Karlan to Lake Silberneherze.

But this series of trains has gone through significant modification since its initial deployment.

As the first to sow the seeds in all this, Her Grace is struck with admiration for Karlan Trade's technological improvements in these three short years.

If Gnosis hadn't done all this, then Enciodes would've been in deep trouble after speaking up for him.

You're going to discuss technology with me?

You're talking to the wrong person, then. Better find Gnosis yourself. He might be interested.

Most curious, Madam.

I did not expect to find you here, much less under these circumstances.

Who exactly is it that necessitated your personal intervention? What kind of situation could be so urgent and precarious that... you haven't even the time to change your bloodstained gloves?

I dealt with a small issue, that's all.

This is not the right time for your curiosity, Trilby Asher, and I suggest you abandon it.

I'm here looking for someone, and I don't want to dirty another pair of gloves for the time being.

I mean no offense.

And I don't mean to interfere with your work in any way.

It's just... surely there must be someone important aboard?

And if there is?

If you wouldn't mind divulging some details to me, perhaps I could be of some assistance.

After all... finding people is one of the tasks that we handle on a day-to-day basis.

You seem to be mistaken.

I beg your pardon?

Enciodes might be willing to turn a blind eye to you sticking your nose here. That's his choice, and none of my business.

But I don't share his patience.

Do you know what's so much nicer about Kjerag than Kazimierz?

The place is cold, but consequently, there aren't as many insects around.

The flying ones buzz around until you can't help but squash them dead.

Now you'd best behave yourself, or I will act in Enciodes's stead.

Thank you for the advice.

This is not advice. It's a warning.

Enough chit-chat. Are you through wasting my time?

What luck, the man I'm looking for is eavesdropping on the other side of that door.

Erk.

Madam Degenbrecher—

Before he can finish his sentence, a flash of cold, white light sweeps past his field of vision.

The pressure the Trilby Asher managed to exert is suppressed within himself. The signature hat on his head is suddenly split into two down its brim, at last revealing a hint of the fear the disguised spy is feeling.

The woman's hand rests on her weapon, apparently casually. Her gaze makes it clear to the Trilby Asher that—

Right now, he is prey to a ferocious beast.

I don't want this train decommissioned.

Don't make me say it again.

Out of the way.