Jack stayed silent a moment longer, weighing his words before finally answering. "Nothing," he said evenly. "I just… happened to end up in here. But if I may ask—what, pray, brings you back?"
Melissa regarded him with an expression as though he had uttered something absurd, then gave a slight shrug, disbelief plain upon her countenance.
"You cannot be serious. You were locked within, were you not?" she asked, gesturing toward the door. "Which would indicate that I returned to liberate you."
Liberate me? ...Surely she can't be serious, did she not take a glance at me perched atop the bookshelf earlier? Or maybe it could have been that I just imagined her perceiving me? ...But then again, if she's here, that must mean that she did notice me?
Either way, why didn't she point me out when those people were in here?
Jack let out a soft, awkward chuckle and scratched the back of his head. "Oh, really? But why?" He asked lightly. "Aren't I intruding?" He asked.
Melissa raised an eyebrow.
"What do you mean?" She said flatly, "If you refer to tucking yourself away in some shadowed corner like a rat, then yes, you are, indeed, intruding… though I assure you, it is of no concern to me."
"You did promise that we would meet after the banquet below had concluded," she continued, "and, at present, I find myself without occupation."
"Oh?" Jack let out a soft breath of surprise.
Melissa's eyes narrowed, her gaze fixed upon him with an expression of subtle confusion and scrutiny.
"..."
Jack rose, brushing the dust from his attire, patting his sleeves and shoulders before taking a tentative step toward her. Melissa, however, remained unmoved, her gaze unwavering and intensifying, causing an uneasy prickle to run down Jack's spine.
Why's she staring like that? Jack wondered. Still... I ought to depart and ascertain what those others are plotting.
"…Is your visage… melting?" Melissa asked abruptly, her green eyes narrowing still further.
Jack faltered mid-step. "What?"
A second later, he raised a hand and pressed it to his face. After another moment, he pulled it away and checked his fingers, making sure his makeup hadn't started to smudge or fall apart.
Looking at his fingers, Jack froze.
Oh no, this, this is bad. How, and when did this happen? He wondered, his blue eyes focused on the smears left behind on his fingers.
Then it occurred to him what might have caused this disconcerting state; most likely, the wine the nobleman had so thoughtlessly splashed across his countenance. That had to be the cause.
Yet, he could not discount other possibilities: perhaps the act of wiping the wine from his face had set it in motion, or even some earlier moment upon entering the chamber had contributed to the effect.
Melissa gave a slight shrug.
"Pray, do you know what was contained within those boxes? I find myself rather curious."
Jack shifted his attention from his own predicament to her. "I cannot say with certainty. They were upon the point of being opened, when you interrupted… and thus, I remain ignorant of their contents."
"And if I said I wasn't curious myself, then that would be a lie." He added quietly.
"Indeed?" Melissa remarked, a faint trace of disappointment threading her voice.
A moment of silence stretched between them. Melissa parted her lips, as though to speak, yet no words emerged from her.
"I might have a notion?" Jack muttered, observing her contemplatively.
She turned her gaze upon him. "Oh?"
"Since, for the present, our interests appear to be aligned, I was hoping you might do me a small favor," he said, raising a hand to partially veil his mouth and nose.
"And that would be?" Melissa inquired, arching an eyebrow.
"You might ascertain the contents of the boxes," Jack replied, pausing as her green eyes widened in perplexity. "Technically, as an attendant of this household, it would arouse no suspicion. Were I to undertake the task myself, they might easily conclude I intended to purloin something."
"That is a fair point," Melissa acknowledged. "Yet even granting that you were a member of the staff, none would permit you to wander these halls in such… attire."
Jack cast a glance at his reflection, or rather, at himself, and was struck by how utterly dishevelled he had become. His garments bore streaks of grime, likely acquired while squeezing through the chamber's entrance or from his perch atop the neglected bookshelf. The shelves had not been dusted in ages, leaving a thick layer of filth to settle upon their surface.
He exhaled a long, weary sigh, and Melissa mirrored the gesture with a soft, almost amused exhalation.
"Come with me," she said, pivoting toward the doorway.
"Come with you... to where?" Jack queried.
Melissa didn't answer immediately. She stepped forward and opened the door. Finally speaking, "To the laundry room, naturally."
"Oh... That makes sense."
***
Later, Melissa found herself within the confines of Sil Bernard's office, her spectacles absent, though she was by no means alone. Sil Bernard occupied his accustomed place behind the desk, while the detectives and their companions stood before him, each wearing expressions of courteous interest. Two of the boxes rested neatly upon the desk, while the remaining five were arranged with care upon the floor nearby.
All eyes turned to regard Melissa, surprise apparent in their polite smiles, as if silently questioning the cause of her presence. Melissa herself appeared more solemn than she had before her conversation with Jack, or so it seemed.
"Melissa? What are you doing here?" Sil Bernard inquired, curiosity lacing his words.
"I imagined you might require my assistance. Thus, I returned," Melissa replied, her voice even, polite, yet bearing a quiet firmness.
"Ah, but I have already requested that Vanessa attend to any matters requiring attention—" Sil Bernard began, only to be interrupted.
"Well, I care not," Melissa interjected briskly, her gaze unwavering.
Though Melissa served as a maid to Sir Bernard, she was treated almost with the deference afforded to nobility in his presence, and even Sir Bernard himself had grown accustomed to such conduct. To him, this comportment on her part was scarcely remarkable. It was, in part, why he favored Vanessa over Melissa: Vanessa's disposition proved far easier to manage. At present, all others in the room could not help but wonder whether such airs were truly requisite. Melissa, however, gave no thought to their opinions.
Her gaze flitted between the boxes and the observers surrounding her. Though she had consented to Jack's scheme, a trace of doubt lingered within her mind.
***
Meanwhile, Jack had completed the task of changing from his soiled attire and now proceeded along the corridor in search of his sister, Nyx, with the intent of borrowing some cosmetics to conceal his true visage.
His hair fell with a natural elegance as he moved, while his bright blue eyes caught the light of the chandeliers and lamps, glimmering with a lively sparkle.
His skin was pale.
He wore a black suit that looked like it belonged to a poet, the suit that Melissa borrowed for him to replace the mess he was dressed in earlier. He moved with slow steps, approaching a door at the far end of the corridor.
Tap... Tap... Tap...
At the very far edge of the corridor, along a path that intersected with the one Jack was walking on. The Vikii lady, in her prime forties, approached while complaining about something that didn't go quite as she planned.
"Why stop me for a pointless interaction when it was very clear that I was rushing somewhere?" she grumbled.
"Now I'm sitting at a dead end without any clear answer as to where that young man is now, and that's all thanks to the useless nobles who just want the Vikii fortune, nothing more.
She scoffed, shaking her head. "It wouldn't even surprise me if they had the nerve to approach me, asking if they could have their sons' hand in marriage to my sweet St. Selena."
Her lips curled in disgust. "It makes my skin crawl even just imagining it."
Then she went silent for a brief moment, settling herself with soft breaths.
***
"I wonder where Jack is now? I imagined I would run into him after getting to the kitchen, but I guess I'm out of luck... It might be that he chickened out, or he couldn't stand these annoying delegates of nobles." She said calmly to herself.
A few steps later, she collided with a man standing at the corner where the two paths met, forcing her to stumble backward a few unsteady steps before regaining her balance.
"…Son of a bitch! Watch where you're going!" She yelled.
"Wait... Liora?" Jack exclaimed, surprised to see that the person he had collided with was none other than his boss. Only, in an elegant outfit, and carrying herself like a high-ranking noble.
Her eyes narrowed as they met the man's face, her brow furrowing. "Who might you be?"