Elsbeth and Ravela

I took Elsbeth back to my shop.

Our conversations were light, and she never once spoke about her life as the Lord’s wife. It was a painful reminder of how far she wanted to push that terrifying conversation we had away.

She was good at it—pulling me into her carefully curated day, telling me stories about the odd people she’d befriended. She even tied in those I knew, always so polite and smooth. What a conversationalist.

I hated it, because during those short hours, I forgot about who I was, and just became someone listening to her stories, wanting to know her insights and secret opinions.

It was only when she said that she would have to depart soon, that I remembered my place here.

A somberness had descended on us, two people still enjoying the afterglow of the hours of talk.

I spoke first. “Hey, what do you do when you visit this layer?”

Elsbeth smiled faintly at my question, then looked down at her hands, folding them neatly in her lap. She hesitated, like she wasn’t sure if it was something she should confess.

“I visit the orphanages,” she said, soft enough that I had to lean in to hear her. “There are a few tucked around the lower parts of the middle layers. The Sisters who run them are... overworked. I do what I can. I bring medicine or food when I can sneak it away. I help with the cooking, or bookkeeping if they need it. They know me. They keep it quiet. And through them, I’m able to help, just a little, the poor orphanages in the Lower Layers and the Sisters who are doing their best below us.”

I winced. “I can’t imagine trying to keep kids alive down there.”

“It’s grim,” Elsbeth admitted.

“But you’re doing something wonderful.”

She smiled weakly. “I read to the children, mostly. It’s peaceful. I think I find a little purpose there.”

That surprised me. It also made something ache in my chest. A strange mix of admiration and guilt. Admiration because this was almost too good to be true. Guilt, because I couldn’t believe she was coming out of this double life unscathed. But here she was, not complaining, sneaking away from her mansion, trying to do good in secret. Carrying all that kindness alone.

“I was thinking of going to the Temple,” I said, gently. “Not to worship. I want to understand more. The blessings, the Saints—I want to understand how it all works… I think I could learn a lot.”

Her expression lit up. “You’d really go? I could guide you!”

“Sure,” I said. “If it means I get to see you again, then yes, absolutely.”

She flushed faintly, and turned her face just enough to hide it. “Perhaps... next time I make my way down, you could join me.”

“I’d like that,” I said quickly. “I’d like that a lot.”

We smiled at each other in that quiet way people do when they don’t want to disturb a perfect moment.

And then—

“TIMAEUS!”

The door burst open like it had been kicked. Ravela stormed in, coat swishing behind her like a whip. Her eyes locked on me instantly.

“There you are!” she barked, pointing like an accusation. “I’ve been crawling this city looking for your sorry ass! You slept at Meredi’s? In her bed?”

I flinched.

“She told me everything—she was practically bragging about it—”

Then she noticed Elsbeth.

The change was immediate. Ravela choked on her words and did a little double-take. Her face scrunched in confusion as she stared at Elsbeth’s carefully disfigured face.

“Oh, Elsie” she muttered, blinking. “Wait. Did I interrupt something?” Her gaze flicked from Elsbeth’s features to mine. “What’s with her face? That a disguise? Tim, did you do that?”

Before I could speak, Elsbeth rose from her seat with elegance so practiced it almost seemed apologetic.

“Not at all,” she said, serene and unbothered. “It’s quite alright.”

She turned to me, smiling gently. “I should go. Thank you for the chat. I loved it.”

She said it so gently, so sincerely, it made my throat tighten.

“We can walk you,” I said, standing with her.

She shook her head. “No. It’s better if I go alone.”

“Okay… You remember how to wash that off?”

“Yes, and I have the remaining mixture to reapply it for next time.”

Then, with a graceful nod to Ravela—who was now biting her tongue—Elsbeth stepped around her and moved toward the door.

“Farewell,” she said, with warmth. “It was a pleasure seeing you again, Ravela.”

Ravela muttered something awkward, trying to recover. “Uh... yeah. Likewise. Safe travels.”

And then Elsbeth was gone, leaving the faint scent of perfumed oils and a much heavier silence behind.

“So,” Ravela said, chewing on her tongue. “Elsbeth, too? How lucky? All your women within arm’s reach.”

I got up with a sigh and walked past Ravela—

“Hey, you not going to talk to me?”

—opened the door, looked outside and saw Elsbeth vanish into the haze, and only then did I come back inside and lock the door.

“Oh, locking the door?” Ravela asked, incensed. “Bold of you to think we’ll be doing anything that warrants locking the door—”

“How long have you been helping Elsbeth sneak down here for?”

Ravela winced and took a step back. She growled, baring her teeth, and raised her hands, flippant. “What, now I’m the villain? Don’t look at me like that! I didn’t do anything!”

Her voice wobbled just a little.

I stared at her. I hadn’t meant to speak so pointedly, but seeing Elsbeth go—alone—after everything she didn’t say, it knotted something tight in my chest. Only the devs of that crappy prologue could get this out of me.

“You’ve been seeing her, haven’t you?” I said. “More than I ever have.”

Ravela blinked, mouth parting like she’d been slapped. For a second, something like guilt flickered across her face. Then she folded her arms, scowling. “She’s a big girl, Tim. If she wants to come down to the gutters and lend her hand to a bunch of brats, she’s got the right. You think I can stop her?”

“Rav! You know she’s helping orphans!”

“I know what a lot of people do on my streets, Timaeus!”

My frustration made me shake. “Do you know what that man is doing to her?”

A dark look came over her. She marched up to me so that we were standing a foot apart. She kept her glare, but it softened at the last minute as she averted it.

“I don’t know anything,” she said, her voice low.

“But you’ve heard things.”

“I hear a lot of things.” She crossed her arms. “Whispers, mostly. About nobles. About their wives. About maids. About pigs in silk. There’s a whole lot of whispers to hear, Timmie.”

“Have you heard anything bad?” I asked, stepping closer.

She barked a bitter laugh. “They’re nobles. It’s all bad. Everything they do is wrapped in silk, blood, and downright strangeness.”

I stared at her. My mouth went dry. “Is Elsbeth in trouble?”

Ravela’s lips parted, and she didn’t answer.

“What business is it of yours?” she finally said. “Did she tell you something?”

“No,” I admitted. “But she didn’t have to. The omissions were damning.”

For a long beat, she just stood there, her posture relaxing as her bluster leaked out of her. She looked older suddenly, more tired. “Then I don’t know what you want from me. If she’s not saying anything, it’s not my place to guess. Or yours.” She sighed. “Maybe she’s fine. Maybe she’s not. Maybe she doesn’t want saving.”

I paced. My foot hit a loose tile and skidded. I didn’t care. “If she hasn’t told me, it’s because I haven’t earned it yet,” I muttered.

A grunt came from Ravela.

I looked up. Ravela’s mouth had drawn into a line. She was watching me like I was breaking something in front of her.

“You’re twisting yourself up,” she said. “You think just because you’ve got some feelings, that makes you her answer? It doesn’t work like that.”

“She smiled,” I murmured, mostly to myself. “She smiled like she didn’t know what it meant to be treated with care anymore.”

“And I feel for her. Really, I do.” Ravela folded her arms. “Tim, she lives in a different world. All we can do is be kind when she visits ours.”

I didn’t want that. That wasn’t enough. But she was right. Who I was now—that was all I could safely manage.

Ravela must’ve seen something on my face, because her expression softened.

“You’re not responsible for her life,” she said. “You’re one person. And—worse—you’re one person who only recently started noticing that there were people around you.”

I froze.

Right.

That one cut deeper than it should’ve.

From their perspective, Timaeus had suddenly become more involved. For Ravela, seeing this must be disturbing to some degree.

I didn’t answer right away.

So I just stood there, trying to breathe through it, while Ravela leaned against the wall like she was holding up more than just her weight.

“You want to help her?” she asked. “Then be her friend. Be kind. Let her come to you. But don’t act like it’s your job to fix her whole damn world. Ambitions be damned.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if I could fix everything,” I muttered to myself. But then I nodded for her—enough for her to see it. “I know that you have a point,” I said. “I’m sorry for being upset.”

Ravela whistled and laughed. “Wow. Apologizing to me after you have a blowup? You must really like me.”

I looked over my shoulder at her. “I do. I really do. Every day I see you, I realize I could like you more than I did the day before.”

Ravela immediately looked away. “Tch. You yap a lot.”

“Yeah. Sorry. I’m going to shower to cool down a bit.”

“Good idea,” she replied, kicking off the wall.