Several days later, just as the grand dukes were growing far too impatient to wait any longer, word finally reached them that Talulah was preparing to set out for the Western Hall of the Grand Council.
It was hardly a comforting location. That was the very site where they had executed the previous Aslan King of Victoria; why on Terra had she chosen that hall instead of any other?
Though none of them knew precisely what the Draco intended to pull off there, the aristocracy nevertheless made thorough preparations. They were ready to welcome her for a final show—one that would crush any lingering, foolish hopes held by the populace once and for all.
Yet when they politely asked if she required any assistance for the occasion, the only reply they received was a bizarre, disjointed piece of advice: "Just make sure you have fire suppression teams on standby."
"Look, I promised I'd help you put on a big show, but don't go bringing down another apocalyptic scene like last time," Talulah warned Jeanne before departing, eyeing her as she cradled Fafnir. She looked less like a figure about to give a historic address and more like an exhausted parent giving final instructions to a troublesome child.
Looking at the girl—who was essentially an over-sized kid herself—Talulah's eyes were filled with pure helplessness. Should she really leave this woman unsupervised to cause chaos?
Recalling past experiences, expecting Jeanne to keep a low profile seemed like a massive stretch of the imagination.
"I know what I'm doing, and I'll keep things within reason," protested Jeanne, the undisputed scapegoat of Reunion. "Besides, that disaster back then wasn't even my fault! Stop pinning every bizarre occurrence on my head!"
She still remembered when members of the Yeti Squadron had captured a three-legged beast in the tundra, marveling at how Jeanne's miraculous Arts must have created such a divine creature—only for everyone to realize it was just a plain old birth defect.
If Jeanne compiled every single ridiculous accusation into a list, it would be thick enough to publish a book. Naturally, she refused to accept another blame-hat being shoved onto her head.
"Alright, alright. I'm heading out—my ride is here," Talulah said, rising to her feet. Seeing Allerdale waiting outside, she paused for a brief moment before asking, "I'm genuinely curious... is there really no one more suitable in all of Londinium than you? Do you have to escort me even for something like this?"
"There is no alternative," Allerdale replied plainly as she opened the carriage door. "No one else in the capital fits the role. The lords agreed that your public outings require a chaperone, and I remain the most convenient candidate."
"And the most out-of-place one, right?" Talulah said, cutting straight through the Feline's guarded posture just as she always did.
"You are not wrong," Allerdale admitted with a faint, wry smile. "Though I am nominally the representative for the dukes, to them, I am merely an annoying mouthpiece pushed to the front. It is hardly a secret."
With that, Allerdale started the engine and drove Talulah toward the Western Hall. A long, heavy silence settled over the vehicle, neither woman uttering a single word for quite some time.
"It's a fairly long drive," Talulah eventually broke the quiet, her voice relaxed and unhurried. "Do you mind if we discuss a few things your handlers wouldn't care to hear?"
"This..."
"You can relax," Talulah reassured her quietly. "There are no listening devices hidden in this vehicle, and no other carriages are tailing us. In other words, we are entirely safe."
Talulah's earlier silence had been spent carefully checking their surroundings for pursuers or hidden bugs.
Fortunately, Victorian nobles weren't quite so absurdly paranoid as to place crude listening devices in her carriage just to satisfy a foolish desire for control.
Allerdale's hands stiffened on the steering wheel. If she hadn't caught herself in time, she might have veered straight off the road.
"My apologies... I simply did not expect to hear such words from you," Allerdale said, her polite smile turning rigid and her tone losing its practiced composure.
"I merely wish to talk," Talulah said, leaning back into her seat. "My understanding of this country is fairly shallow, and my impression of the nobility is limited to broad strokes. That is why I want to ask you. After all, coming from you, the information carries a bit of weight... ever-loyal Cumberland."
Talulah spoke casually, but it was impossible for her to harbor zero curiosity regarding this noble who kept reappearing in their orbit.
Since sitting in silence was boring anyway, why not have a conversation? The countess was, at the very least, a familiar face by now.
"Ever-loyal..." Allerdale murmured, her smile fading completely. Her tone turned heavy and dark. "To be honest, every time I hear someone describe my house like that, it feels like a bitter joke."
The polite facade melted away entirely, laying bare the raw sorrow beneath.
"The Cumberland of the past no longer exists. The person sitting before you is merely a miserable wretch doing everything in her power just to survive," Allerdale stared at the road ahead, her eyes filled with grief.
The sole reason she could still live peacefully in Londinium was that she was no longer the loyal Cumberland of legend—she had long since turned her back on that legacy.
"The fact that you can say that proves you still carry lingering regrets, doesn't it?" Talulah turned her head to observe her.
"What difference does it make?" Allerdale sighed softly. "I am not powerful like you, nor do I possess the courage to throw everything away. Even if I carry regrets, those lords couldn't care less."
Talulah wondered what kept this Feline moving forward when her spirit seemed so thoroughly crushed. Was she holding on purely out of some lingering hope for the Aslan dynasty? That seemed like the most plausible reason.
"Lady Talulah," Allerdale began tentatively, "I know you visited the mausoleum beneath the city. May I ask... did you happen to see a mythical creature down there? One that closely resembled an Aslan Beast Lord?"
The question had haunted her mind for years. She desperately wanted someone else who had witnessed the beast to confirm that her memories weren't merely a fever dream.
Talulah's eyes widened in genuine surprise, and in that instant, Allerdale found her answer. A soft, genuine smile finally touched the Feline's face.
"You actually met that lion named Gawain too?" Talulah grumbled, feeling thoroughly cheated. "He explicitly told me he rarely reveals himself!"
"It was many years ago," Allerdale recalled quietly. "I saw Her Highness Alexandra riding upon its back... the daughter of the late Aslan King."
Confirming that the golden lion was real—and not a figment of her broken mind—seemed to spark a faint glimmer of life back into Allerdale's hollow posture.
Talulah glanced at the transformed Feline. Though she still found the woman somewhat strange, she figured she could offer a small gesture of help—if only as payment for Allerdale's trouble over the past few days.
"When we begin relocating the Infected and the Taran people later, we will be entrusting the task to Rhodes Island," Talulah stated casually. "You might want to see if you can join the effort. Having a local like you assisting them would make things much easier."
Allerdale blinked in confusion, unable to process why the Draco leader was making such a suggestion.
"I happen to know a piece of news," Talulah added, stepping toward the entrance of the Western Hall as the carriage came to a stop. "Living aboard that landship is an Aslan operating under the codename Siege. If you are interested, you might use the joint operation as an opportunity to visit their main vessel... and see for yourself if she is someone you recognize."
With those final words, Talulah turned and strode up the grand steps.
Allerdale stood frozen for a moment before a look of fierce determination settled across her features. "So that's how it is... I will. I definitely will."