I let Ashlynn know that I have important things to do today, thankfully she chooses to be understanding so I leave her alone in the manor.
My first stop is the warehouse where I store the wooden box full of knives. I check each blade carefully, testing the balance in my hand.
The second place I visit is Gary's office in Hearthlight building. The sun slants through the high windows as Gary watches me closely.
"Good Tuesday, Gary," I say as I approach his desk casually.
He doesn't speak immediately, only studies my posture. Eyes sharp, measuring.
"Gary?" I prompt lightly.
"Did something good happen?"
I understand his question immediately, though I offer nothing more than a flat shake of my head. "No. Nothing good… not recently."
"You looked horrible because Ashlynn disappeared. Has she returned yet?"
"No, she hasn't," I answer, keeping my calm.
He studies my face, searching for a tell.
"Then what's… the change in mood, Len?"
I shrug lightly, masking everything. "I had some time alone. I realized sulking doesn't bring her back, so I decided to move on."
"That's cold, but efficient. I respect that. I'll let Veyr know. So, what brings you here?"
"The mission Custodian Order gave me is halfway finished."
"I see."
Satisfied, Gary lets me end my work early today.
The next place I visit is Rehanza's office in the Market Port, Western Outskirt. The sun slants through the large windows, dust motes drifting lazily in the air, carrying the faint scent of ink and dried parchment.
"Monsieur Thadeo!" Rehanza greets me as I enter.
He's already seated by his desk, doing his work.
"I stole the attention of many during masquerade two days ago. Thanks to your advice."
"Thats great Monsieur!"
"Do you have more tea?"
"Yes, I do. But only one box left." He gestures to the shelf behind him, the porcelain glinting in the light.
"That's fine. And I come here for one more thing." I step closer to his desk, folding my hands lightly.
"What is it?"
"I want you to do research on distribution business. One where I can incorporate the current Bellingham Transportation Enterprise into it." I watch his face carefully, noting the flicker of curiosity.
"But what kind of distribution do you plan to do?"
"Primarily wine and tea."
"Wonderful idea, Monsieur. May I share my thoughts?" He leans forward slightly, hands clasped.
"Feel free to speak."
"You need to have other office in Duenchester down south. It's cheaper to bribe the inspectors there to bring exotic goods cheaper."
"How so?"
"Rozarian Empire often launches gun-running campaigns on their ships toward the port city," he says. "Here in Tauran, inspectors still need to bribe the military to look the other way. In Duenchester, they don't."
I let that settle. Duenchester… cheaper, easier. Advantage noted.
"That also means I need to invest in trains to transport the goods from Duenchester city to Tauran city once the goods land." My eyes flick back to him, sharp and focused.
"I can also help you research how much phens you need to spend to get a train." He taps a pen on the desk, the sound crisp in the quiet room.
"Good." I nod once, sharply.
"One more thing. Get me a new house in Duenchester."
"Understood, Monsieur." He writes something quickly on a slip of paper, already moving to execute the order."
Before I leave, he hands me the last box of tea—the same one Xandar loves. I carry it carefully in my hands, moving through the bustling market port.
The Bellingham workshop rises ahead, its yard lined with carriages. One immediately draws my attention: ornate, polished, decorated with flourishes marking it as my personal carriage. I step inside the workshop without a word.
Morning light filters across the yard, dust and salt lingering faintly in the air, clinging to the edges of the wooden beams as I walk from the docks to the workshop.
Inside, craftsmen move quietly, tending to every scar and crack, turning imperfection into seamless polish. Carriages gleam under the light; every edge is smooth, paint flawless. The sharp scent of varnish and warm wood fills the room, mingling with the faint tang of iron from the tools.
Carlo notices me at once and approaches with a bright smile.
"Monsieur Thadeo, good Tuesday."
"Good Tuesday," I reply.
"How's the personalized carriage?" he asks, excitement clear in his voice.
"Great. I'm here to request a private Jarvy for my personal carriage."
"I can assign our best Jarvy to serve you effective immediately," he says eagerly.
"No, no, no. I don't want the best one."
"Why not, Monsieur? You deserve the best," he insists.
"I prefer to have a different Jarvy each day."
"Oh, you want Jarvies on a cycled schedule?" he clarifies.
"Yes." I let a small smirk cross my face.
"I can arrange that. After all, you own half this company," he chuckles.
I keep my smirk, letting it linger. The reasoning is simple: no single Jarvy should ever notice my daily routines. Certain details—Charlo doesn't need to know that part.
I let him know that I expect one Jarvy to stand by at my house in the morning, and their work ends before the sun sets. Unless I require them for something specific, their schedule can change.
"Understood, Monsieur," Charlo notes, his tone precise, no questions asked.
Once my business is finished, Charlo instructs one of the available Jarvies to drive the carriage and take me wherever I wish to go.
I step in and give the instruction. "Valazam Hotel."
The carriage lumbers over the cobblestones, carrying me from the Western Outskirt to the Northern Outskirt. Smoke and steam rise faintly from the streets, mingling with the morning air.
After some time, the carriage slows and finally stops.
I step out in front of the hotel. The Jarvy follows me inside, moving efficiently to help pack our belongings. Ashlynn's dresses, bags, hats, and other essentials are gathered with care, while only half of my things come along. I still need the hotel room for the next few weeks, a temporary anchor.
It doesn't take long.
Once everything is secured, we move again, the carriage wheels clattering rhythmically over the cobblestones as we depart toward our next destination: Eldenmere neighborhood, back to my home.
The sun climbs higher, casting long shadows across the streets as they slowly fill with people going about their day. Smoke curls from chimneys, and the faint clatter of distant carts reaches us. Familiar rooftops of Eldenmere appear ahead, a quiet promise of safety.
The carriage slows, then stops in the front courtyard, beside the main door. I glance up through the second-floor blinds of the master bedroom and see Ashlynn peeking down. Her eyes widen and brighten the moment she catches sight of the carriage, a small smile tugging at her lips.
When I open the door, she's already rushing down, her excitement pulling her steps faster than usual. She reaches me at the bottom of the stairs, face lit with a smile.
"Is this our personal carriage?" she asks, gesturing toward the carriage waiting outside.
"Yes, it is." I set my bags aside and nod, then point toward the Jarvy. "We have a different Jarvy each day." I turn back to her, meeting her gaze. "Now you can go anywhere without worrying about anyone following you."
"Thank you, Len," she says softly, relief and wonder threading through her voice.
I let her linger in the moment, watching as the weight of the outside world eases from her shoulders.
While Ashlynn explores the house and arranges our things, I map the next moves in my mind, calculating quietly, methodically.
For now, the peace is ours. The streets are temporarily safe. And for the first time since the masquerade, I can let Ashlynn breathe.