After taking Nicole back to the monastery's hospital, Lumière stood at the edge of a building's rooftop, looking over the moonlit middle borough.
'Now that the loose ends like Nicole are consolidated to one manageable group, this settles one of my larger problems. However, there's still so much to deal with… there's so many unanswered questions…'
'What did the Phantom Syndicate want with the church? If going to monastery was to cause chaos, then was it a singular event, or were they trying to start an even larger plan to topple the orthodoxy? If that Rat Man was one of the 'trialgoers' that Nicole mentioned- children raised to be soldiers of chaos, then why did he have one of the Spade Cards? What connection does the Phantom Syndicate truly have with the Cards? This is definitely something the Joker knows, but he's not privy to tell me as I am now. By his own words, I have to 'grow stronger'…'
'Adonis Trinder seemed to know off the bat of the connection the Phantom Syndicate had to the attack, but by Constantine Adler's orders, he can't say much more. This means that if I want to know more, I'll have to consult Constantine directly. Once I've settled a few matters, I'll go seek him out and learn more…'
Lumière let out a long sigh that was filled with fatigue, both of mind and body. It seemed like he had not rested in the couple of months since danger had begun to follow him. A man constantly on the run rarely had time to stop and think, much less rest.
'Why did Lord Sinner choose me? What grand plot must he be scheming, and why am I a part of it? If it is true what Ms. Sevant- no, what Gluttony says, and we are truly from different worlds, then this is too large of a plan for me to even comprehend…'
'The only constant is the Rememberers… those intensely powerful figures that killed Gluttony's lover…' Lumière ruminated. 'But why? What do they want with the Primordial Sins? Are they enemies of the Sinner, or protectors of the world that try to stop its inevitable destruction?'
'And if the Rememberers pretend to be our friends, family, and comrades… then who in my life could possibly be one? Could this Orion Callister be one of them? But why would he go through so much trouble to mess with me if his real goal was to stop me from destroying the world? Isn't antagonising me equivalent to stoking that flame? Could it be Ainsworth? No, he's one of the people I trust the most…'
'Even if Ainsworth is a Rememberer, it doesn't matter. I don't have to think in such absolutes. Protecting those I consider my loved ones is my conviction, and avenging them is my drive. Even if I lose trust in them, I'll die protecting them. I'll just become a martyr of lies and regret nothing.'
Lumière grinned as his cloaked flutter in the wind, placing a hand against his chin before looking up at the sky.
'I wonder if I look cool and dashing right now?'
'No, never mind. That's an embarrassing thought process to have.'
'Still, isn't this a young boy's dream?' Lumière stretched and yawned. 'To tiptoe the line between being good and evil, to lead a group of powerful people into a fight so greater-than-thou... it really is a child's greatest fantasy...'
'If only I could continue treating it so lightheartedly... since stumbling into the monastery that night, I've been nothing but over my own head. There's really been too much to juggle.. I've abandoned myself to my tasks, but does that mean I have to throw away peaceful moments like these as well? Even Deities take breaks, so why can't I?' Lumière smiled as he sat down at the rooftop's edge, gazing over the middle borough.
'I wonder how far I'll be able to go, sailing on lies?'
=== In Leiden's middle borough, in a small estate not far from Leiden's South wall, Marssum. ===
Sitting at a seat by an ornately-decorated window, Juno looked out at the small garden in which he had hired servants to attend to. Water spilled from the decorative stone fountains, and various types of flowers jutted out from the seams in the stone path that led away from the estate. Sipping on warm water, he set down the glass and began to lose himself in thought.
'Learning of the Phantoms was a necessity, but that sense of being watched still remains… no wonder all that boy does is tremble. Having been engaged in this commission means that we have Mr. Ophelia's protection, that much is true. If Mr. Ophelia really did manage to find a perfect vessel in Lumière Croft, the One of Spades, then that means the power he can wield should be extraordinary, as demonstrated in the fight against Johan Basque.' Juno leaned back in his seat, posturing his head on his hand as he let out a sigh. 'So, why do I still feel so uneasy…?'
'Is this just the type of people we're dealing with? How powerful could they be to stand as the top secret organisation? Could they be on the level of the House of Cards? No, if they're at the top, then they're above even the Joker…' A humoured smile curled up Juno's lips. 'I wonder if joining the 'Mythos Garden' will have negatively affected my deal with Massimo Leonetti? Technically, Mr. Ophelia looks out for the interests of Lumière Croft, who has closely befriended Constantine Adler, who we'll be looking to compete against in the marketplace of trade…'
Juno leaned forward in his seat, pressing his hands together as he stared back out of the window. 'This situation is really shaping up to be interesting, isn't it?'
=== In Lindgram's Second Inner Stratum, in a large estate directly underneath the Emperor's towering marble palace. ===
"Are you nervous?" Cartwell turned towards Zelia, who stood at the edge of her bedroom whilst twirling in a lacy, frilly white dress.
"Why ask? Do you think I fear seeing his family again?" She didn't pay a glance to her attendant, staring at her countenance in the mirror. Her eyes had been sharpened with midnight-black eyeliner, and her cheeks had been slightly blushed. She resembled, despite her usually-charming appearance, a very radiant person.
"The last time you saw my Lord's family was his funeral, and that didn't end very well. They've never liked you, only the Chatelain family's means."
"Now that they can't enjoy those connections, they have no reason to pretend they ever enjoyed my presence." Zelia sighed.
Zelia's late husband, who had been killed nearly a year prior, belonged to a High Noble house prominent for their exports of jewelry and fine jewels. Of course, for the Chatelain family, who exported Iyasul crystals for their use in machinery, also bred opportunity for refinement of jewelry. Because they could be easily self-reproduced, the jewelry made from the glimmering crystals were not only sold to the Noble houses who commonly could afford jewelry, but even the middle-class women whose husbands worked menial jobs.
"Do you still seek revenge for him? Are you still chasing that dream after this long?" Cartwell asked, his expression torn. "Is that why you picked that name to represent you during Mr. Ophelia's gathering?"
"Don't call it a dream. It's an inevitability, Cartwell." Zelia twirled the dress once more before turning towards him. "I'll find who did it, and I'll kill them myself."
"Why didn't you ask that of Mr. Ophelia? You held onto your wish at the gathering. What else could you be saving it for?"
Suddenly, the door to their room creaked open. Several attendants dressed in stark black and white uniforms stepped in, carrying various metal dishes that let off fragrant aromas, both sweet and savoury, into the air.
"It seems supper has been prepared." Cartwell laughed dryly. "Tell me, will you eat in that white dress, knowing whatever stain remains on it will be present when the morning comes?"
"You do not know what I wish, Cartwell. Perhaps I want to attend the High Conference in a stained dress. Perhaps it is the new style amongst Noble women."
Cartwell shrugged. "How could I think to know the mind of a Noble lady? You're quite right, my Lady."
The two laughed before sitting down at the table. After the attendants had left the room, and the door had been closed shut, the two dined together. This was a common occurrence for the two. Cartwell had been alongside Zelia since she was born, as that had been his purpose from the moment his life had first started. He was more company than servant. She had many people who could feed and clothe her, but no one to share a decent conversation with. Cartwell was a servant by name, but a friend for life.
As Cartwell brought a forkful of salted meat to his mouth, he mused. "We truly have gotten ourselves into trouble, haven't we? Do you think it was my mistake to accept Shylock's commission to hunt down Johan Basque? Do you regret joining the 'Mythos Garden'?"
"You said it yourself that Mr. Ophelia could be listening to us through the contract marks. Why speak like this?"
"Now that Nicole has told us of that Phantom Syndicate, aren't we being watched by more than just Mr. Ophelia? Regret or not, there's no turning back. Mr. Ophelia knows this. Even if he's listening, he'll know we're with him. There is no other choice."
Cartwell set down his fork, a clattering sound echoing through the room. His visage darkened considerably, and he asked once more. "So, do you regret my actions?"
"I would never regret something you do, my dearest attendant. Don't feel guilty for roping me into this. I know you want to do everything you can for your sister, and that's why you accepted it, even if you knew I would follow alongside you. I promise I'm looking out for myself as well. I'm not a blinded woman anymore."
"Good, good." Cartwell's gaze fell back towards his food. "Well, if you don't regret it, then I can't say anything more about it."
Zelia eyed the sauce that spilled off of the sautéed vegetables in the center of her plate. The charred exterior gradually melded into the steaming crimson coulis, made from various vegetable roots and raspberries. Picking up one of the charred vegetables with her fork, she placed it to her lips and let out a satisfied sigh. The flavour was a mixture of stark contrasts- a tart sweetness from the sauce clashing with the bitter saltiness of the vegetables.
Still, despite its flavour, even in recent days had her favourite dishes had begun to dwindle in excitement. As she set her fork down once more, her gaze darkened. Only one thing had been on her mind.
Revenge.