"So you just gave in to her demands like that? Isn't this just another way of coercing you—the kind where you can't succeed unless you play by their rules?"
After listening to Allerdale's true purpose, Jeanne stared at the stack of documents in Talulah's hands, her eyes aching just from looking at them.
She could recognize every single word printed on those pages, but when strung together, she could barely understand what the sentences actually meant. Was speaking in unintelligible riddles a requirement for Victorian bureaucrats?
Jeanne took another quiet opportunity to trash-talk Victoria in her mind. Her impression of this country hadn't been great to begin with, anyway.
"It's more that I was curious about the proposal to improve working and living conditions for the Infected," Talulah countered, dismissing Jeanne's overly dramatic phrasing. She kept her focus locked on the papers before her. "I agreed to cooperate on my own terms. I still hold the upper hand here—don't paint me as some helpless victim at their mercy."
The file originated from a region under the jurisdiction of Duke Golden. The person who drafted it was neither an Infected nor some clout-chasing radical looking for attention; he was a highly respected elder in his community.
For such a figure to risk total ostracization from his peers just to table a proposal like this made Talulah intensely curious about his underlying motives.
"So what does it actually say?" Seeing Talulah lost in thought, Jeanne leaned in, giving up on trying to parse the legal jargon herself. Why struggle through complex phrasing when she could just ask the resident genius to translate it into plain language?
...Even if that resident genius could be a bit of a blockhead at times.
"Why do I get the feeling you're judging me in your head right now?" Talulah narrowed her eyes, catching the faint mixture of pity and exasperation on Jeanne's face. "Are you talking trash about me again? You absolute nuisance..."
"How can you be so suspicious?" Jeanne put on her most innocent, wide-eyed expression. "Would I ever harbor such bad thoughts? After all these years, do you still not trust my character?"
Talulah remained completely unmoved. Having seen this exact act dozens of times, she was thoroughly immune to it.
"Fine. To put it simply," Talulah sighed, returning to the text, "the elder noticed a distinct pattern over the past fifty years: the frequency of Catastrophes directly correlates with the concentration of Infected in an area. In other words, the more active Originium gas emitted in a city with a dense Infected population, the higher the chance of triggering a Catastrophe. If things continue like this..."
Listening to the summary, Jeanne had to admit the elder's observation made logical sense. Unfortunately, the timing of his discovery couldn't have been worse.
The elites would never back a bill like this. They couldn't care less about any theoretical link between Catastrophes and the Infected; all they saw was an increase in operational costs. Naturally, they would do everything in their power to crush both the bill and the man behind it.
"I think the old gentleman makes a valid point," Talulah noted. "And right now, the vote in his district is deadlocked. A small push could tip the scales in its favor. That's the only reason I agreed to settle this claim issue quickly."
Setting the papers aside, Talulah began plotting her next move. How should she resolve this situation in a way that met her own standards?
As for what the nobles would think afterward? That wasn't her concern. She had promised to put the crown rumors to rest, not to make the lords happy. Besides, the only thing that would truly satisfy those monsters was her head on a spike.
"Why don't we make a huge spectacle out of it?" Jeanne suggested, her eyes gleaming with mischief. She had been holding in her frustration throughout their stay in Victoria, and leaving without giving those arrogant aristocrats a proper scare felt like a wasted trip. "Think of it as free publicity for Reunion! Given our current situation, we definitely need more eyes on us."
"Besides," Jeanne added, hoisting a thoroughly bewildered Fafnir into the air, "I brought a dragon with me! If we don't show her off, won't all of Fafnir's hard work flying across the continent to come here be for nothing?"
The tiny dragon blinked her large, innocent eyes, looking back and forth between the two of them in utter confusion.
"If you actually cared about your dragon, you'd stop stealing her gold," Talulah deadpanned. "The poor thing wakes up in the middle of the night just to check if you've swiped her stash. Haven't you noticed she's been avoiding you lately?"
Recalling the past few nights, Talulah remembered waking up feeling suffocated, only to find a heavy Fafnir sprawled across her chest. Though small, Fafnir was deceptively dense, making Talulah wonder more than once if Jeanne was playing a sick joke on her in her sleep.
"I have boundaries! I haven't taken any of her gold!" Jeanne defended herself, poking Fafnir's cheek playfully. "This tiny thing is a total miser. I wouldn't dare steal from her—dragons hold nasty grudges."
Jeanne shifted the topic, "Where do you plan to deliver your speech, anyway?"
"The Western Hall of the Grand Council," Talulah replied. "It's the most appropriate venue in Londinium."
"I thought you'd pick the Royal Palace," Jeanne said, shaking her head.
"Don't be ridiculous. They'd never let me step foot near the palace," Talulah snorted. "Besides, in a few years, that place will probably be turned into a tourist attraction charging admission. What's there to see?"
"Fair enough. Just make sure you prepare well," Jeanne grinned, picking up her little hoard-hoarder. "I'm looking forward to seeing you blow everyone away."
With that, Jeanne took her leave. Talulah let out a long breath, feeling far more relaxed than before. Her blood pressure had shot up thanks to Jeanne's teasing, but at least she wasn't feeling sluggish anymore.
Sitting alone in the quiet room, she began carefully crafting her statement, weighing every word, anticipating how the public would react, and considering how her enemies might try to spin her words...
She pondered straight through the night. By the time she finally organized her thoughts, dawn had already broken outside the window, leaving her head spinning with fatigue.
"Going out looking like a zombie might not be the best look," a voice popped up right beside her.
Talulah turned to find Jeanne's head poking out from the bedding, staring directly at her.
"You scared me," Talulah said flatly, her expression completely unbothered.
"I never said I was going today," Talulah added, nudging Jeanne with her foot to make room on the bed. "I said within the next few days. Why would I go deal with those nobles while running on zero sleep? Move over, I'm taking a nap!"
"Hey, with the way you were staring into space, I thought you were about to march out and fight someone..."
"Did you gain weight recently?" Talulah interrupted suddenly, settling under the blanket. "Why does this bed feel so cramped all of a sudden?"
Jeanne's rambling instantly cut short. She turned around slowly, her expression darkening as she stared at the Draco.
"I think you need to take a look in the mirror and see who actually gained weight!" Jeanne declared furiously. Accusations like this were something she absolutely could not tolerate.
And just as the morning sun rose over Londinium, another chaotic squabble broke out between the two.