The "Lab" had been upgraded. Thanks to the soap profits, Taylor had purchased glass beakers (originally wine decanters), copper tubing, and a sturdy oak table that didn't wobble when she pounded on it.
But right now, the most advanced piece of technology in the room was a flower.
Taylor sat hunched over her desk, staring at the **Blue Rose** she had found on the carriage wheel near Ravenswood.
"It's not dyed," she muttered, adjusting the flame of her oil lamp. "The pigment is intracellular. Specifically, Delphinidin. Roses don't produce this naturally. They lack the specific hydroxylase enzyme."
She poked the petals with a pair of tweezers.
"Genetic modification? In a medieval fantasy world? Or..."
She held the rose up to the light. The petals shimmered with an unnatural, almost neon hue.
"Or chemistry," she whispered. "Someone synthesized the pigment and grafted it. This isn't nature. It's a flex."
***
[The Lunch Break]
*BANG.*
The heavy oak door to the lab flew open—or rather, it was kicked open.
**Ria** stood in the doorway, balancing a silver tray on one hand and holding a bottle of wine in the other. She wore her chef's coat, but the top buttons were undone, revealing a dangerous amount of cleavage and a sheen of sweat from the kitchen heat.
"My Angel!" Ria crooned, pirouetting into the room. "You have been staring at that vegetable for three hours! Your brain needs glucose! Your soul needs flavor!"
"It's a specimen, Ria," Taylor sighed, not looking up. "And I'm busy."
"You are starving!" Ria declared, placing the tray on the desk, right next to the explosive nitrates. "I made you a Consommé of Passion! It is rich in collagen! For your beautiful skin!"
Ria didn't offer a spoon. She dipped her own finger into the soup, testing the temperature. Then, she licked it slowly, her eyes locking onto Taylor's lips.
"Perfect temperature," Ria purred. "Open wide."
She scooped up a spoonful of the golden broth.
"Ria, I can eat my—"
"Ahh!" Ria insisted, pressing the spoon against Taylor's lips. "Do not deny the nutrients! Swallow!"
Taylor opened her mouth reluctantly. The soup was, annoyingly, delicious. Savory, warm, and perfectly seasoned.
"Good girl," Ria whispered, her voice dropping to a husky register. She leaned over the desk. Her chest pressed against Taylor's arm, soft and warm through the thin fabric of her coat.
"You have a little... drip," Ria noted.
A single drop of soup had escaped Taylor's lip and was rolling down her chin.
Before Taylor could grab a napkin, Ria moved. She didn't use a cloth. She leaned in and licked the drop off Taylor's chin.
"Ria!" Taylor yelped, leaning back so fast her chair almost tipped over.
"Don't waste the sauce," Ria winked, her tongue darting out to catch another imaginary drop. "Every drop is precious. Just like you."
"My Lady!" **Luna** screamed, bursting out from under the desk (where she had been organizing "files"). "The Cook is tasting the Master! Unsanitary! Illegal! I must sanitize the area!"
Luna grabbed a wet cloth and lunged at Taylor.
"I will clean you!" Luna shouted, scrubbing Taylor's face with frantic intensity. Then, her hand slipped lower. "Oh no! The soup might have dripped... here!"
She began aggressively wiping Taylor's collarbone, pushing the fabric of Taylor's shirt aside.
"Luna! Stop! There is no soup there!" Taylor cried, flailing her arms.
"I must be thorough!" Luna insisted, her face flushing red as she "checked" for spills.
*Sching.*
A dagger embedded itself in the wooden desk, right between Ria's hand and Luna's cloth.
Silence fell over the room.
**Violet** stepped out of the shadows in the corner. She wasn't smiling. She looked like a doll that had come to life solely to commit murder.
"Get out," Violet said. Her voice wasn't loud. It was dead.
Ria pulled her hand back, looking at the knife. "My, my. The little sister has claws."
"I said get out," Violet repeated. She walked over to Taylor and wrapped her arms around Taylor's neck from behind, resting her chin on Taylor's head. She stared at Ria with dead, shark-like eyes. "She is eating. Not being eaten."
"Fine, fine," Ria shrugged, fixing her coat. "I'll leave the tray. But My Angel..." She blew a kiss to Taylor. "...dessert is later. And it involves whipped cream."
Ria sashayed out of the room, her hips swaying hypnotically.
Luna gathered her cleaning supplies, looking defeated. "I missed a spot..." she mumbled, crawling back under the desk.
***
[The Chimney Guard]
"Is it safe?" a deep, muffled voice asked.
Taylor looked around. "Ren?"
"Here," the voice grunted.
Taylor looked at the fireplace. Two boots were dangling down the chimney.
"Ren... are you stuck?"
"I was patrolling the roof," Ren's voice echoed down the flue. "I saw a cloud that looked like a sword. I followed it. Now I am in a vertical tunnel. It is very tight."
"It's the chimney, Ren!" Taylor shouted. "Push yourself up!"
"I cannot. Gravity is a formidable opponent. Also, I think I found a bird's nest."
"Just stay there," Taylor rubbed her temples. "You're now the Chimney Guard. Do not let Santa Claus in."
"Understood. Santa Claus is an assassin. I will cut him."
***
[The Discovery]
With the chaos subsided, Taylor turned back to the Blue Rose.
Violet was still clinging to her back, her arms locked around Taylor's waist, her cheek pressed against Taylor's spine.
"She smells like garlic," Violet muttered into Taylor's shirt. "You smell like ink. I like ink better."
"Violet, let go. I need to do a chemical test."
"No. I'm grounding you. Static electricity."
Taylor ignored her and crushed one of the rose petals into a beaker of alcohol. The liquid turned a vibrant, glowing blue.
She added a drop of acid (lemon juice).
Normally, anthocyanins (flower pigments) turn red in acid.
The liquid didn't turn red. It turned **Silver**.
Taylor gasped.
"It's not organic," she whispered. "It's a pH indicator. A synthetic chemical compound."
She grabbed the paper she had found in Riverwood—the Queen of Hearts card.
This wasn't magic. This was **Advanced Chemistry**.
"The Magician in Ravenswood..." Taylor's eyes widened. "He isn't a wizard. He's a Scientist."
A scientist in a fantasy world? Someone who knew how to synthesize complex polymers?
There was only one explanation.
"Another one," Taylor whispered. "Another Reincarnator?"
Or perhaps... someone from *here* who was a genius beyond their time?
Violet peeked over Taylor's shoulder at the glowing silver liquid.
"It looks like moonlight," Violet said softly. "Is it poison?"
"No," Taylor said, a shiver running down her spine. "It's an invitation."
[Ding!]
[Quest Updated: The Phantom of Ravenswood
[Clue Analysis: Synthetic Compound Detected]
[New Objective: Investigate "The Professor"]
Taylor looked at the glowing beaker. The Ecchi comedy of the lunch break faded.
If there was another scientist out there... were they an ally? Or a rival?
And why did they leave a Blue Rose—a symbol of the impossible—for her to find?
"Pack your bags, Luna," Taylor said to the underside of her desk. "We're going back to Ravenswood. And bring the gas masks."