Once we were clear of the market's back alleys, I stopped and looked over at Mary. She had shaken off the unease from before, now carrying her signature pleasant look under her hood.
"You can drop the mysterious routine now," I muttered. "I hope you're a bit more put off from involving yourself in my personal business now."
She tilted her head, her hood still casting a faint shadow over her face. "That was quite... exciting? I'm not sure, but I know it didn't have the desired effect you wished for it."
I narrowed my eyes, an annoyed expression slowly forming on my face. In return, she smirked slyly.
"Alright, out with it," I said, sighing like an exhausted older brother. "Why follow me? You barely know me, and you definitely have better things to do than frolic in the lower sections of society."
"You're not wrong. Usually, I wouldn't concern myself with those underneath my station," she answered with a shrug. "But I was curious. You act like you're hiding something, especially at the ceremonial hall incident. I wanted to see what kind of shadowy things you do when you're not following orders."
With a listless gaze, I looked at her.
"I wasn't doing anything illegal."
She raised a brow as if to say sure you weren't. Her gaze continued to linger on me, as if I had more to tell her. Fortunately for me, she gave me the basic respect of not using her eyes on me.
Instead of arguing, I walked on. She followed easily, walking at my side, still holding onto my cloak, for some unknown reason.
You people really don't know what consent is, do you?
Lamenting inwardly, we passed through the alleys into the outskirts of the Outer Rim, where buildings turned from broken stone to brick, and the cobbles lost their grime slowly. Mary kept looking around, her head swiveling slightly from left to right. Not with awe or fear – just mild interest and a hint of boredom. Like a tourist who's seen better, which, in her case, she probably had.
"You don't seem impressed," I muttered after a while, curiosity getting the better of me.
She gave me a sideways glance. "I'm from the capital."
Ah. Right. Sorry, Princess.
"There are things there that would blow your mind," she added with a slight smirk, after seeing my silence. "I can take you there if you'd like."
I rolled my eyes. "Thanks for the humility. And I'll pass. I'd rather go there on my own jurisdiction."
I'll have to eventually anyway, and I pray it won't be with you. Then again, when has God ever answered my prayers?
Eventually, we reached my apartment, and as I unlocked the door, she stared up at the worn signage, the cracked walls, the uneven steps. She wore a face of a mix of shock and disdain, similar to those who looked at me and that boy who helped me into the Noble District.
Wait... what was his name again?
Without letting me think, Mary made her thoughts well known as she held up her cloak, scared to dirty it.
"You live here?" she asked, as if I'd just invited her into a chicken coop.
"It's what you get when you don't have noble blood," I said, stepping inside. Unlike her, I felt quite at home, as if all my responsibilities had vanished as soon as I stepped through the door.
She hesitated a moment before following me into the little room. Inside, her eyes drifted over the room, the mismatched furniture, the small bookshelf weighed down by reports, books, and old war manuals. I expected her to scoff or grimace with a disdainful comment toward me, but instead, she just frowned.
"This is too small for someone like you."
I turned to look at her, somewhat shocked at her unexpected comment. "Someone like me?"
She didn't answer at first. Instead, she moved through the room slowly, taking it all in. Finally, she spoke. With her hood now pulled off her head, her beauty was allowed to shine in a place that seemed to suppress it.
"You shouldn't be living like this," she said, quieter this time. Her eyes seemed to hold a sort of sadness and regret. "You've proven yourself already. People like you shouldn't be forgotten down here."
I raised a brow, more curious than offended. She seemed quite emotional about this, and I was quite unsure why.
She wasn't wrong, technically. But there was something in her tone that made me pause. Not pity mixed with contempt. Just... confusion. As if it genuinely didn't make sense to her why someone of worth would tolerate the same living conditions as those she saw as beneath her.
I didn't respond. Maybe I didn't want to ruin the mood she had made. Maybe I was just tired. But part of me couldn't help but notice the parallels between this attitude and what she'd become in the future. Imperials were always a bit prejudiced toward the lower class, and she was no different. I even pitied her in a sense, as she was brought up believing she was divine by right. Compared to her other family members, she was definitely one of the kinder Imperials.
But I let her go on, saying nothing. There was no use trying to change her mind right now. The divide between the classes was just too wide, and I wasn't about to bridge it alone, nor for such a stubborn girl.
---
I cleaned myself up in silence, then we left again, making our way toward the train station. We didn't talk much, as Mary still seemed to be slightly grumpy, and I didn't need another earful when I already felt like collapsing from exhaustion.
The platform of the train station was loud and busy, steam hissing from pipes, gears groaning under the weight of iron engines. Train whistles screamed like banshees, and the whole place smelled of metal and oil and ambition. Mary kept her hood up now, though her posture remained confident and silent.
This was the Inner Rim's central station – a cathedral of progress, if you listened to the brochures and posters that lined the metal walls. Brass arches swept overhead like the ribs of some enormous beast, and the rails split off like veins feeding into the city's heart, most heading outwards, towards the substantially bigger Outer Rim.
We approached the checkpoint. Security was even stricter than I remembered – heavily armed guards, and what looked like a new arcane scanning device, humming faintly with runic inscriptions. The other side of the train station, the one that took passengers to the Outer Rim, seemed to be much less guarded.
Go figure.
When it was my turn, I produced the gold insignia trinket Arthur had given me a year or two ago, polished and marked with his family crest. The guards, seeing it, didn't hesitate to let me through. They all slightly bowed, but no words were exchanged, and they seemed purely professional.
Mary followed behind me, slipping through without a second glance thanks to the cloak and Arthur's influence. Stepping on the platform just before the train, I could see its golden bronze hue gleam in the dark light of the lamps lining the train station. As usual, three different carriages encompassed it, and for the first time ever, I headed toward the one closest to the head of the train.
The Noble Carriage.
Maybe climbing the corporate ladder isn't that bad after all.
Immediately after the mechanical doors closed behind us, the noise pollution from the outside dropped, barely a whisper now.
The interior was leagues above anything the lower classes or even I ever saw. Velvet seats with cushions thicker than my head. Gold-tinted sconces lining the walls, gleaming brightly in the well-lit carriage. Steam vents crafted like curling vines, with gothic religious art strewn along it. A quiet hum filled the cabin, and the vibration of the tracks beneath our feet was muted, like the train itself was holding its breath in front of the wealthy and worthy.
Mary's eyes darted across the carriage. For the first time in a while, I saw something faint glimmer in them – the barest bit of childlike light. Her look was similar to mine when I entered my apartment, the feeling of home and belonging.
Well, it certainly highlights a divide, doesn't it?
She moved towards a window seat and sat down, gazing at the city as it sped by – all light mixed with iron and dreams. The sun had fully set now, casting the city-scape in a soft orange glow, the lamps below flickering like the city breathed through fire. The windows were clean, and it almost felt like you could put your hand through it, and feel the cold touch of the wind outside grace your fingertips.
I took the seat across from her and leaned against the wall, with my hand cushioning my face.
She looked out, admiring the lights like they were new.
I couldn't help but think about the small similarities between us.
She's doing the same thing I did the day before.
Except I had been in the commoner carriage. Stuffed elbow to elbow with tired workers and half-broken lamps overhead. A view of the city framed in soot.
Yet I still admired it all the same.
And now I was here. In the Noble carriage, unfamiliar and unknown. Watching someone who would've never looked my way just weeks ago, now gazing out at the same skyline with the same awe I'd once had.
My eyes feel a bit heavy...
Funny how fast things changed.
And how little they really did.