The afternoon air was heavy, as if the Batavia sky was holding its breath before a storm. Julian walked through the palace corridors, their floors polished to a mirror shine, but every step felt like dragging an invisible chain. Friedrich's words from the breakfast table still rang in his ears: Find your brother, or it is your head I will give to your uncle.
He found Kartikasari in the rear pavilion, sitting cross-legged in front of a Gamelan set. This time, she wasn't wearing her luxurious silk kebaya, but a simple cotton one with a Batik Parang motif—symbolizing struggle and continuity.
"The rhythm isn't right, Sir... ah, should I still call you Elias?" Kartika asked without turning. Her hand still held a small gong mallet.
Julian stopped. His heart hammered in his chest. "Why do you ask that?"
Kartika stood up with a deadly elegance. "In this city, the wind carries news faster than a steamship. Governor Friedrich never entertains a 'common guest' with a two-hour Rijsttafel unless that guest has a high price tag."
Julian stepped closer, the scent of jasmine from Kartika's hair beginning to soothe his frayed nerves. "I need your help, Kartika. And not as a government guest."
"Then as what?" Kartika looked at him sharply. "As a man running from his own shadow?"
"I'm looking for someone. His name is Adrian. Friedrich says he's hiding in the Peranakan settlements or among the locals."
At the mention of that name, Kartika's fingers, which were smoothing her fabric, trembled slightly—a motion so subtle, yet it did not escape Julian's now-alert eyes. Kartika walked to a small table and poured steaming jasmine tea.
"Adrian is not just a name, Julian. Here, he is a symbol for the oppressed. Looking for him is like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands," Kartika whispered. She handed him the tea cup. "Drink. This tea is bitter, like the truth you are seeking."
Julian sipped the tea. True to her word, the bitterness lingered at the back of his tongue. "I have no choice. Friedrich is threatening me."
"We all have choices," Kartika replied coldly. "But sometimes, we are so afraid of the Puppet Master that we forget the strings can be cut."
Suddenly, the sound of pigeons flapping their wings echoed above the pavilion. Kartika looked at the sky, her expression turning wary. "Go to Pasar Baru tomorrow night. Look for the textile merchant with a dragon mark on his door. If you are lucky, the smoke will reveal its form. But remember, Julian... once you step in there, you are no longer a spectator. You are part of the play."
Culture & Language Notes
Gending: A song or musical composition specifically for the gamelan ensemble.
Batik Parang: One of the oldest batik motifs in Indonesia. Historically, it was reserved exclusively for royalty; it symbolizes power, strength, and an unbroken continuity.
Jasmine Tea (Teh Melati): A staple beverage in Java; in this context, it is used as a symbol of tranquility that masks underlying tension.
Pasar Baru: One of the oldest commercial centers in Batavia, famous for its textile shops owned by the Indian and Chinese communities.
Wayang Metaphor: Kartika once again employs terms like Dalang (Puppet Master) and Tali (Strings) to remind Julian that even his true identity as a Prince is merely a role being played.