Chereads / The Daughter of the Ambassador / Chapter 8 - Chapter 7

Chapter 8 - Chapter 7

After a brief stay in Baxterville, where I managed to find a safe place to rest and gather my thoughts, it was time to move on to Toleito. I had spent a few days laying low, meticulously planning my route and ensuring I wasn't being followed.

I approached the train station in Baxterville with renewed determination. I purchased my ticket under the assumed name of Kelly Minsk, and the identity felt like a thin veil that concealed my true self. As I settled into my seat on the train to Toleito, I took a deep breath and tried to calm my nerves.

Across the aisle from me, a young man with black hair and striking green eyes sat reading a book. He seemed absorbed in his own world, and I couldn't help but steal glances at him. His normal appearance intrigued me.

I had been on the train for a while, and the silence was starting to wear on me. With a sigh, I decided to break the ice.

"Excuse me," I began hesitantly, "do you know how much longer until we reach Toleito?"

The young man looked up from his book, a hint of annoyance flashing in his green eyes. He didn't respond immediately, making me feel like I had intruded on his personal space.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally replied curtly, "Not much longer. Shouldn't you have checked the schedule before boarding?"

I bristled at his tone but decided to maintain my composure. "I did, but sometimes schedules change, you know."

The young man raised an eyebrow, clearly uninterested in engaging in further conversation. He returned to his book, sending a clear signal that he preferred solitude.

I couldn't shake the feeling of awkwardness that hung in the air. However, I was determined not to let this encounter deter me. After a few minutes of tense silence, I tried again, determined to establish some rapport.

"So, what brings you to Toleito?" I asked, forcing a smile.

The young man glanced at me, his expression still guarded. "Personal reasons. And you?"

I hesitated, considering my response carefully. "I'm visiting family. Haven't seen them in a while."

The young man's eyes softened slightly as he nodded. "Family is important."

Our conversation remained stilted, with neither of us willing to let our guard down completely. I couldn't help but feel frustrated by the lack of connection. I knew I had initiated the conversation, but the young man's aloofness was disheartening.

As the train continued on its journey, we exchanged a few more polite but distant remarks. It seemed that we were destined to remain strangers, at least for the time being.

I couldn't help but steal another glance at the book the young man was reading. It seemed to be a rather dense novel, and I couldn't resist the urge to strike up a conversation about it again.

In a moment of boldness, I leaned slightly across the aisle and asked, "Is that a good book?"

The young man looked up, his expression softening a fraction as he closed the book and set it on his lap. "Yeah, it's a classic. It's called 'The Enigmatic Odyssey.' Have you read it?"

I shook my head. "No, but it's quite famous in my homeland. They say the prose is beautiful."

A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "That's true. It's one of those books that you can read multiple times and discover something new each time."

I nodded, intrigued. "I'm fluent in a few languages. Maybe I'll read it in its original language someday."

His eyes sparkled with interest. "You speak multiple languages?"

"Yes," I replied with a modest shrug. "I find languages fascinating. It's like unraveling the essence of a culture."

He leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. "How many languages do you speak?"

I counted on my fingers, each one representing a different language. "Well, there's English, French, Spanish, German, and of course, the language of my homeland, Lionese."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Five languages? Impressive."

I smiled, my confidence growing. "And I'm always eager to learn more. What about you? How many languages do you speak?"

He hesitated for a moment before answering, "I'm fluent in three languages: English, Fencean, and a bit of Latin."

I raised an eyebrow playfully. "Only three? I thought you were a well-traveled adventurer."

He chuckled, a warmth entering his gaze that had been absent before. "Well, I dabble in a few more, but I wouldn't call myself fluent in them."

Our conversation flowed more easily now, as we delved into the intricacies of language and literature. We discussed our favorite authors, shared anecdotes about language mishaps, and even exchanged recommendations for books to read.

He glanced at me, curiosity in his eyes. "So, which language do you enjoy speaking the most?"

I thought for a moment, then replied, "I think it has to be French. There's something so lyrical and expressive about it."

He nodded thoughtfully. "I've always found French to be quite romantic, though I've never mastered it myself."

"Maybe you should give it another try," I suggested with a smile. "It's never too late to learn."

He returned my smile, a genuine warmth in his expression. "Perhaps I will."

We continued chatting, the tension between us gradually dissolving. As we discussed literature, he recommended a few books I hadn't heard of, and I made a mental note to look them up later.

"Have you ever read anything by Gabriel García Márquez?" I asked, genuinely curious.

He shook his head. "No, but I've heard great things about his work. Any recommendations?"

"Definitely. 'One Hundred Years of Solitude' is a must-read. His storytelling is so rich and immersive."

"I'll have to check it out," he replied, jotting down the title in a small notebook he pulled from his pocket.

As the train neared Toleito, our conversation shifted to more practical matters. He gave me a few tips about navigating the city and suggested some places to visit.

"Thanks for the advice," I said gratefully. "It's nice to have some local insight."

He smiled, a hint of camaraderie in his eyes. "No problem. If you need any help while you're in Toleito, feel free to look me up. My name's Daniel, by the way."

I extended my hand. "Kelly Minsk," I replied, using my assumed name.

Daniel shook my hand firmly. "Nice to meet you, Kelly. Safe travels."

As the train pulled into the station, I gathered my belongings and prepared to disembark. My heart raced with anticipation and nerves, but I felt a newfound sense of confidence. The journey ahead was daunting, but I was ready to face it.

"Good luck with your family visit," Daniel said as we exited the train.

"Thank you," I replied, genuinely touched by his kindness. "Take care, Daniel."

We parted ways at the station, but I couldn't shake the feeling that our paths might cross again. For now, though, I had to focus on my mission. I took a deep breath and stepped into the bustling streets of Toleito, ready to uncover the secrets that awaited me.