Gula

Having completed several conversations with partygoers, I began to notice an unfortunate pattern. Lillia’s mask was unreadable, so I wasn’t entirely sure what she was thinking; however, I could only assume she was as concerned about it as I. I turned to her.

“Lily, we aren’t going to achieve anything if they’re all acting like this.”

Lillia looked straight to the front, staring at James and Darren, who, surrounded by a considerable crowd of people, were talking amicably. She sighed and shook her head. She looked around before setting her eyes on an older man, currently occupied with a drink and not in conversation with anyone.

“Let’s try one more.”
“The Bit O’ Heaven Corporation’s CEO, Jim Bolivar? Does he have a connection to the Bellons?”

“No, but it’s not about who he has connections with, it’s about who I’m certain he doesn’t.”

“Ah, I see.”

Her approach did make sense if it was for confirming her suspicions about those people who were connected to the Fosters being uninterested in us. So, we walked up to him.

“Mister Bolivar, how are you doing tonight?”

The man glanced between us before exhaling deeply.

“The Bellon kid, huh? Do you really want my honest answer to that?”

Lillia began to smile.

“By all means.”

The man put his glass back on the table before finally responding.

“This is pretty shit.”

Lillia’s smile grew, and she urged him to elaborate with her eyes. Bolivar indeed continued, drastically lowering his voice.

“Honestly, I think most people here are either connected to the Fosters or are looking to be. I asked James to come here because the Buchanan Design Company did us a massive favour a decade or so back while we were planning our offices.”

Bolivar glanced at the crowd surrounding Darren and narrowed his eyes.

“You two kids would probably be better off leaving as soon as possible. I don’t know what is happening behind the scenes, but anything involving a sudden change to the party and a Foster showing up is bad news.”

I agree. The most logical solution to this situation is to cut one’s losses and run. There’s no reason to get hung up over building connections here. I can only assume that Ella thinks this too. Lillia, however, maintained her unflinching smile.

“I appreciate the advice, Mister Bolivar.”

She grabbed my dress sleeve and dragged me off to a corner of the room without anyone nearby. Bolivar, on the other hand, raised his eyebrow at the sight but didn’t comment.

“What do you want to do, Lily?”

First and foremost, I needed to clarify whether Lillia understood what her grandmother had in mind. I can’t directly prompt her on this. My intuition is screaming at me that Ella will pick up on it if I give the test away. But, contrary to my intentions, Lillia ignored my question, looking behind me. I prompted her again.

“Lily?”

“Hm? Ah, sorry. Yeah, we aren’t leaving.”

My eyebrows knit together slightly.

“Then what is the alternative?”

Lilia pursed her lips together in thought.

“We’re going to secure our relationship with the Buchanan Design Company.”

I began to frown.

“Lily, that-”

“Just trust me.”

“But-”

“Ellie, trust me.”

You’re wrong here, Lillia. I actually know the right answer. I sighed. While I didn’t have much hope of changing her mind, I could only hope to support her as best as I could.

“Fine. What is your-”

Before I could finish, I was cut off by another booming announcement from Darren Foster.

“Dinner is ready! Please take your seats while the Cube’s lovely staff brings out your food.”

I exhaled and glanced at Lillia. My best option without knowing her plan was to play it by ear as well as possible. And so, we took our seats.

When the waiters brought trays out to my seat, I noticed something odd. Why is this bread wrapped in plastic? I thought this kind of film-like plastic wrapping was banned a while ago. Lillia seemed to have a similarly sceptical look on her face. I leaned in and whispered to her.

“Do you think this bread…?”

I trailed off, not wanting to explicitly say it at a table with so many strangers in proximity. Lillia, who had now cleared her expression, nodded sagely. I stared at it intently for a moment, before glancing around to see multitudes of people around us unwrapping it and beginning to eat, with notable exceptions, of course, in Ella Bellon and Jim Bolivar. Bolivar was boredly looking down with his arms crossed and Ella, who was seated directly across from us, was leaning on her hands and giving us a smug look.

… What in the Lord’s name did she hook her granddaughter into? I scanned everyone who I could see seated and everyone who I had previously seen in the party and began to cross-reference it with the guest list. Fuc-… gosh darn it. I should have noticed earlier. Half of the guest list didn’t show up. I quickly leaned over to Lillia and informed her as such.

“I thought as much.”

She nodded as if unbothered, though it was impossible for me to discern her true thoughts purely from her manner. I opened the tray of food, and examined the contents, which seemed a relatively normal (though very light) meal of fish. But just because it’s unlikely to contain black ice doesn’t mean it can’t. I can’t risk eating this. And so, realising it was all I could do, I began to wait patiently for Lillia to make a move.

I was more powerless here than even when I had learned that I would have to restrict my use of miracles, and yet… that wasn’t all. I feel… strange. Something is off with me.

===

“Chug! Chug! Chug!”

A man was chugging glass after glass of petroleum with a crowd cheering him on. Lillia next to me had an indecipherable expression.

“Lily, what exactly are we going to do now?”

Her brow furrowed, but she was ultimately unresponsive. I was distracted by a man in a gaudy suit pouring champagne on his head. I looked to the sky, silently wondering what my father, Apollyon, would do here.

If I simply explain her grandmother’s test, then she would be willing to leave, right? But that would be sacrificing my pay. If she fails here, will I even get paid? I need that money. I can’t easily compromise and do the ‘kind’ thing when my life is on the line. While I was deep in thought, Lillia tugged at my sleeve and gave me a rare serious look.

“Ellie, you need to trust me. Please, promise me that much.”

I don’t want to walk into a landmine here…. Nonetheless, I sighed and responded.

“Fine, I’ll promise to trust you.”

It was a frustrating zugzwang. However, I didn’t really have much of a choice but to promise that. Either unaware of or not interested in my frustration, Lillia gave me a dry smile.

“I don’t think we’re going to be able to do this by convincing the Buchanans, so I think a different approach will be necessary. Given that the other guests seemed aware of the change in venue, I can only assume that Grandmother didn’t want me to find out about this until the last moment. Thanks to that, I think that this situation in itself is the test”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well, I’m.”

“Are you... su-”

“Didn’t you just promise to trust me?”

I mentally groaned. The root of the issue with Lillia’s plan is pretty simple. It doesn’t actually matter why the Buchanans chose to do this, because the best decision is to simply cut ties. The risk doesn’t outweigh the reward here. That is the root of Ella and Lillia’s father’s test here. I stared at Lillia for a moment, before finally coming to a decision.

“Fine. I’ll help, but-”

I noticed that Lillia had stopped paying attention and looked away from me, with her face now obscured. I tapped her on the shoulder lightly, but, before I could continue, I saw her expression.

“This will be easier than I thought, Ellie.”

With her eyes void-like, Lillia was giving a deeply unsettling smirk unlike anything I had seen from her before. … What happened to avoiding the Fosters…?

The feeling that something was off didn’t leave me.