It was a staggering reflection that nobility and corruption could persist despite the perilous circumstances facing the human race.
"None of it makes any sense."
Lady Evelyn was baffled by Silvie's question; what was common knowledge to the masses was unknown to her.
"Silvie, that memory loss is quite the predicament," remarked Lady Evelyn. The current situation of her servant wasn't ideal; she gave the velvet pavilion a look of indifference. Perhaps she found their practices fascinating.
Silvie felt ashamed as she lowered her eyes, unable to find the fitting words to respond with, she wondered if Lady Evelyn was silently judging her ignorance, even if said ignorance wasn't her fault.
"No matter... There are more appropriate places for a discussion. Are you hungry, by any chance?" Lady Evelyn offered in kind, noticing Silvie's struggle to articulate her thoughts and unwillingness to remain outside the velvet pavilion any longer.
Those words were a billow of relief upon Silvie's listening ear, and perhaps the answering of her empty stomach would silence her clamoring thoughts.
"Yes, My Lady!" she said with utmost enthusiasm, the first positive emotion Lady Evelyn had witnessed from her, a favorable sign that her servant didn't entirely resemble a beautiful mechanical doll.
For Lady Evelyn, the emotionless carried the aftertaste of bitterness, for what was beauty without emotion?
Yet, she still kept an amused look; the robed figures could be lurking in the shadows. It was dangerous to remain here a second longer, and Silvie knew she had to stay by Lady Evelyn's side, no matter what.
The two women walked through the streets of the bleak district of Gravenhurst. It was an eyesore; its colors could induce sorrow in even the happiest man.
As they left Duskrow Revenue and entered the infamous Grey Street, Silvie fought to suppress a look of disgust. The road was strewn with garbage, homeless sprawled about in drugged stupors, and the air itself seemed thick with the stench of illicit dealings.
A foul smell of alcohol assaulted their noses, the streets littered with empty beer bottles at every corner, each one bearing the label Baltimore Black Horse.
It was jarring; as they walked, many eyes met their way. Their colored hair and out-of-place attire were a distraction; the two of them looked foreign compared to the common people.
Silvie tried not to pay it any mind. There were blondes, redheads, and brunettes, especially among the rich-looking fellows they encountered, an amusing detail that noble families would stoop to mingle with filth.
It was impossible to discern the sins behind their outward manners.
Still, velvet hair was too distracting; even her own white hair seemed rare. She wondered what race Lady Evelyn belonged to, a race that bore flawless velvet. But then again, she could ask the same question about her own.
She recalled Lady Evelyn murmuring that Umbridge was an empire of mixed races. Indeed, she could see that for herself, people bore different skin colors and facial features. But one thing marred the scene.
"My lady, why is it that they all speak the same language?" the servant asked with genuine curiosity.
"Hm?" Lady Evelyn seemed confused by the question as she responded while walking along the pavement.
Silvie pointed out that it was rather confusing: in such a well-diverse populace, she could only hear one language being spoken. Even then, she was well aware it might have been a coincidence that she only heard one.
Lady Evelyn blinked in perplexity. "And how are you so certain there should be multiple languages in the first place?" she asked, her brow faintly furrowed.
Silvie hesitated, opening her mouth before closing it again. She had no real answer, she wasn't even sure herself why she had made those assumptions. Still, she was certain that multiple races must have different languages.
The mistress gave a small, almost amused shake of her head. "Ingles is the common tongue, It is the language of the empire itself."
"Though... there is one more. A speech reserved for the aristocracy, court officials, and the like. You would rarely hear it in public."
"I believe it's called Lucindric..."
Silvie wondered what that was. She even asked if her lady could speak it, to which the latter denied, claiming she had never once heard it herself. This caused the servant to assume that Lady Evelyn must be at the lowest Elo of nobles for her to not know. Yet as she walked, her mouth moved on its own.
"Weeyoei hei seva veim."
(???) (???) (???)
"Rei ra hei ro wa luha."
(???) (???) (???)
"Ie wa Soel... Światło..."
(???) (???) (???)
Lady Evelyn halted mid-step, her head tilting ever so slightly, as though the foreign words had pierced through her refined composure. Her eyes narrowed, studying Silvie in disbelief.
"...What did you just say?" she asked.
The servant snapped back to her senses, her lips still trembling from the phrase she herself did not understand.
She claimed that it was just mere useless rumblings, the side effects of hunger and the aftermath of the drug afflicting her fragile form.
Lady Evelyn's expression softened, though her eyes remained suspicious. After a moment of considering her options, she gave a small nod.
"...I see." She'll let it rest but it won't leave her memory...
Silvie, on the other hand, scrambled to come up with a conversation, "My Lady, this place must've been... pretty if those Inklings never existed." Her way of distracting both of them from the awkward air.
They instinctively decided to step out of the way, to let the pedestrian through, causing them to stand at the edge of the street.
Lady Evelyn decided to entertain her words. "Indeed. But the condition of this district is nothing more than a reflection of its people."
Silvie pondered her words. If these people were happier, perhaps their eyes would catch brighter colors than this dullness.
"Lady Evelyn, do you think that if the people were joyous and the empire more vibrant, the architecture here might carry the potential for a memorable historical painting?" Silvie recalled that her lady was a humble painter; she saw this as her angle to deepen their relationship.
Lady Evelyn's attention was drawn towards the architecture of Gravenhurst; her mind had been thinking dimensionally as she wondered how she would draw or even paint it, given the chance.
"Hm, it possesses potential, provided it endures the test of time and the vicissitudes of this world."
"If it does... I shall paint that cathedral over there—" Lady Evelyn gestured toward it. Silvie's eyes followed her indication, and before them loomed an imposing Gothic cathedral.
The first trait Silvie noticed was the weathered stone gargoyles, followed by the black spires that loomed haunted under the depressed sky of Gravenhurst District. It had been there all along, and yet Silvie had somehow managed to overlook it.
Chapter End...