Working in a dead-end, post office job in the heart of a primarily-Human city, Arya Salcrest cannot let her secret out else she loses her rights and her safety. Norren Sterling, a member of the Council whom she met after a failed museum trip, is det...
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Barnholdt loomed over Arya with a sense of foreboding she couldn't shake off her chest. Clad in the fanciest dress she had—which was unfortunately borrowed from her aunt's old coffer—she blended with the people striding in and out of the museum's wide stairs.
Top hats of different heights and brim width whizzed past her periphery. Glints from the chained monocles slotted in most nobles' eyes filled the immediate bubble near her. Giggles and idle chatter floated in the air, composed of trivial things like the weather or whose son was dating which daughter of a powerful family.
Arya tugged at the dark gloves she had put on at Cornelia's behest. The fingers were wider and longer so the gloves always threatened to fall off. It might have belonged to a bigger woman. Who might be dead. Or something. Cornelia had the propensity of getting her things from the strangest of places.
Arya shook her head, dispelling all the images of a cadaver wearing her gloves from her head. At the foot of the stairs, a carriage pulled by a dark coated horse screeched into a stop. The door opened without the coach even stepping off his place. To a noble eye, opening the carriage doors by oneself was the first sign of being from the common people. The next was the whirlwind of fabric thrown into the person stepping off.
"I told you I'll pick you up at Halway!" Eury furiously dusted her skirts in her attempt to straighten them while stomping up the stairs. Her poor shoes... "Why are you already out here? The exhibit won't start until an hour later."
Arya licked her lips. Immediately, the polymer taste of the balm she swathed on her lips coated her tongue. She did her best to hide her wince at having forgotten she had painted her face. "You said Seven Adiem," she glanced at the only watch she owned. It still worked despite being decades old, belonging to her father. "It's Seven Adiem."
Eury grasped at the air in frustration. "I said Seven Adiem in Halway!" she said. "It's an hour's carriage ride from there. How in Ouine's boxers did you even get here that early?"
Arya adjusted the netted hat she wore. Her hair, for once, cascaded down her shoulders and back in all their fiery glory. It was a special exhibit. Might as well let her special hair for a while. Give it a break, more like.
"I asked my aunt," Arya answered absently, letting her eyes leap from one person to another, noting which of them were of noble descent and which ones were pretending to be...like her. "She told me it's a long way from Beironet so I just woke up and left home a little earlier. Thankfully, there are no problems with the trams."
Eury's eyes widened. She got into Arya's personal space with little regard about how she felt. "You took the tram all the way here?" Her statement echoed in the stairs, making heads turn towards them. With Eury, it's an unavoidable situation.
"Pipe down, will you?" Arya grimaced. The stares they got were nothing short of acidic. "I had to change cars four times. Almost got lost on the final leg. It wasn't that bad. I learned a lot about the city."
