FOUR

....-

Elodie welcomed Marietta’s desire to redo her wardrobe with the excitement of a newlywed. She took Marietta in her arms and kissed her. With the newfound acceptance and outfits, Marietta changed as well; the color in her face flourished, less reserved while matching Elodie’s constant energy. Well, maybe “matching” is a poor choice of words... but Marietta kept pace with my sister. From what Elodie told me one day over breakfast, this was the Marietta she fell in love with four years ago: the smiling, laughing individual who loved to dance.

I welcomed this newfound distraction. Elodie occupied herself with Marietta, leaving me to my own ways. So, while they shopped and laughed, I focused my energy on finding a job.

Yet I soon discovered that few places desired a nineteen-year-old immigrant from Volfium. 

After multiple failed searches, Marietta came to my rescue.

Ever since Marietta confided in me, I’d traveled with her into town twice a week to visit the apothecary so she could collect a transitioning potion and some vitamins for Elodie. Located at the far east side of the Capital, where the walls bordered the graying mountain range, the shop sat undisturbed. No one paid much heed to it, and Marietta and I often entered as the only customers. The apothecary, an old fellow with poor eyesight, always greeted us with a smile.

Yet, I felt my own smiles begin to falter as my job search proved fruitless.

“Are you doing okay, Nanette? You haven’t said much today,” Marietta said as she collected her vials from the apothecary’s counter.

“Oh, it’s nothing really. Job hunting has been more difficult than I thought.”

“Ah, yes. There’s some hesitancy around outsiders. I might be able to help, though. Give me a couple days.”

I didn’t expect Marietta to find me anything, but a few days later, she came home with a grin spread from ear to ear. She discovered a listing at the Capitol Building for a scribe position for Captain Oberland, a senior captain in the Rosadian Guard responsible for watching over the Fifty-Eighth Division in the Capitol. This division left blood in their wake, responsible for ridding the streets of criminals and vagrants. Civilians never dared look those guards in the eye.

Despite the dark nature of his work, Captain Oberland was a jolly old fellow. He had a crooked foot that always dragged on one side, while his pointed mustache and goatee made his smile more pronounced. Whenever he laughed, it echoed down the hall.

Yet Captain Oberland couldn’t read, write, or send telegraphs.

Hence the need for a scribe.

The captain hired me on the spot, marveling over my fluency and penmanship in both Rosadian and Volfi, as well as my ability with tap-code.

Yet, a scribe’s job is nowhere near as jovial. Captain Oberland rambled, talking in circles, switching between events, and often missing key details. It made little sense: he spoke of individuals committing petty acts of thievery, only to shift the statement to say high crimes. Other times, he spoke of fights in alleys, backtracking to mention magic. None of it ever really lined up, making my work even more difficult. Despite how he always said, “Don’t worry, Miss Ivans. You can finish tomorrow,” I often worked late into the evening to get the notes right.

His telegraphs were even more confusing. When one came in, usually it comprised a string of letters and numbers.

...- —.-.

“VQE…” appeared often, and whenever I recited it to the captain, he would merely nod and continue with his day.

I couldn’t figure out what it meant.

Marietta and I left every morning together to head to work. She took her time announcing her transition to her coworkers, slowly adding details to her outfits, or wearing her hair a different way. But even those slight changes created a noticeable improvement in her mood, and as we rode into town each morning, she babbled away about current events, work, and Elodie. 

I enjoyed Marietta’s company. At first, we ate lunch together every day. As Marietta focused more on her transition, she used her lunch hours to visit the apothecary on a regular basis, leaving me to eat at my desk or on the Capitol steps. As Marietta’s focus turned more on her personal pursuits, I only saw her in the mornings. I often returned home after she did, and by the time I arrived, Marietta stood locked in Elodie’s talkative grasp. So, with a pleasant smile, I bid them each goodnight, venturing into the kitchen to eat dinner before heading to bed. 

For those first few weeks, my days ran like clockwork. I traveled to work with Marietta, listed to Captain Oberland ramble, sent telegraphs, and conducted filing. At dusk, I walked home alone, taking in the sights and breathing in a moment of silence. While the routine was pleasant enough, I wanted more. I daydreamed about Yeshua and Gisela. They were only a story at this point; I hardly remembered their faces, just the way they made my heart spin. It might not have been love—no, it was definitely lust—but it made me feel something more. I attempted to pleasure myself at night in a steam-filled bathtub, but it didn’t fill the empty void.

Despite everything, really, I was alone. 

I buried myself deeper into my work, staying late each night to finish Captain Oberland’s reports. Yes, I tried to become friendly with the other scribes, but with no one telling stories, it was more like talking to ghosts. 

Each day, I tried to arrive home by sundown to quell Elodie’s nerves, but a day came where I lost track of time. I exited my windowless office to greet a moonless sky coated in a thick fog, reminiscent of Death’s Grip back in Stilette. It suffocated the sky, so thick I couldn’t see in front of me. Shadows beyond the gold-encrusted gas lamp haunted the path. My stomach churned. What demons lurked in the darkness tonight? 

I hailed a cabby. A few shadows trotted by without noticing me before one finally pulled up, led by a disinterested brown horse.

None other than Ryon Barnes held the reigns.

“Nanette... out after sunset! Hello!” He waved.

“‘I’m a barn,’ what a surprise!” I chided.

“Gosh, I regret making that joke.” He laughed. “It’s been a few weeks, hasn’t it?” 

“Yes. And I am afraid I need a ride home today.”

“Very well, hop on in!”

Giddy, I jumped into the back of his buggy. 

Ryon grinned at me as he tugged at his horse’s reigns. He continued to speak while navigating his horse through the fog. “I kept stopping by Ms. Lieu’s, but she never wanted a ride. Really, I hoped to see you, but...well, you weren’t there.”

“I’ve been working.”

“Oh! That’s wonderful. Where?”

“The Capitol. I work as a scribe.”

“Oh...” His voice hardened. “So you’re writing history?”

“I write what Captain Oberland says is history, yes.”

A brief silence, coupled with the horse’s trotting, rested in the air. It didn’t budge until the Capitol Building disappeared behind us.

Ryon whispered, “Do you believe everything that you write?”

I glanced at Ryon. His shoulders remained tense. Did I believe what I wrote? Most of the time, I paid little attention to Captain Oberland, sticking to my duty. Nothing more. 

“I’m not sure,” I replied. “Captain Oberland never seems set on one truth or another... he backtracks a lot and just... rambles.”

“Sounds like he’s flying off the ramble.”

“Flying off the ramble?”

“Cause he’s rambling... instead of the saying ‘flying off the handle?’” His voice broke with embarrassment. 

I giggled, “You’re a silly man, ‘I’m a barn.’”

He shrugged and said nothing else.

The silence fell again. Did I say something wrong? I

Ryon didn’t let the air remain stale, slicing it open with a single question. “Why do you work for them?”

I fidgeted, glancing over my shoulder at the disappearing Capitol Building in the fog. “I need the money. People are hesitant to hire some immigrant from Volfium.”

“Hm.”

My head hurt. Was he suddenly judgmental of me? Did he hate me for what I said? Was I as bad as the guards? 

Why did it matter what Ryon Barnes thought? I barely knew him.

But I liked him, as a friend at least, and he was one of the friendliest faces I’d met in Rosada.

I responded in haste. “I don’t want to work there forever! But I don’t know what to do yet. Please don’t hate me. Please...it was hard to find work with my skill set…”

Ryon stopped his buggy and looked back at me. His hazel eyes locked with mine, and my stomach somersaulted, catching the bile rising in my throat.

“Why would you think I’d hate you?” 

“Because I’m writing stories—”

“I might’ve gotten a bit grumpy there for a moment, but it’s not your fault. You’re performing a job like some cog in a machine…easy to replace with another. You’re trying to survive like the rest of us.” He glanced back at me and then towards the shadow of the Capitol Building. “It’s a shame that these stories are history, and true history is a story. That’s why they’re illegal, y’know. They think we’ll rebel. Like the Capitol Building? They say long ago that the Sister Queens of Rosada built it. But they didn’t build it! They stole it in some war! But the government will push that away like a story and arrest whoever speaks such slanders.” Ryon’s face paled. “And you’re a government worker... shit. You won’t turn me in, right Nanette?” 

I shook my head. “Why would I? In Volfium, we tell stories all the time. I miss them. They give life to everything.”

Color returned to his cheeks as he smiled. “I knew I liked you! Why don’t you sit up front with me? I got a bunch more ‘stories’ I can tell!”

Like my heart thumping, I hopped up onto the front bench with him. Our arms grazed each other. The hair on my arm rose.

We took the long way home. Ryon talked the entire way, pointing out different historical landmarks before whispering the true history behind them. As he spoke, I drowned myself in his presence. He sounded like roaring thunder. His presence felt like a forest, but he smelled of farmland. It brought back memories of my time with the caravan. Yeshua, Gisela, and I snuck into a barn and lay in the straw, waiting for the storm to pass over the nearby forest.

But when I recalled the memory, I pictured Ryon.

The moon hovered over the trees as Ryon pulled up in front of Elodie’s home. Ryon helped me out of his buggy. We gazed at each other for a moment. I licked my lips, glancing at his mouth for a moment, then down at my feet. I didn’t want to act on this sensation yet. This longing felt different from my time with Yeshua and Gisela. I wanted it to last. I yearned for it to stay.

Instead, I gave him a single statement. “I’ll be working late for quite a while and will need a ride most days.” 

His eyes brightened. “I can schedule you in every day around this time if you’d like.”

“I would like that.” 

Despite Ryon’s objection, I paid him a single gold coin before waving goodbye. I watched him lead his horse away until finally, the mist swallowed him home.

My heart rode on a cloud as I entered the home. I couldn’t say I was in love, but I certainly fancied Ryon. The way he smiled warmed my heart, his voice soothed my ears, and his eyes garnered my attention.

I ignored Elodie as she shrieked over my tardiness and only grazed across my plate before heading upstairs. Nothing else mattered. I was in a cloud of happiness! And it waltzed with me up the stairs and into the bathroom, where I sank into the tub and mingled with my fantasies well into the night.