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Tightly Wound

Robert quietly sighed as he looked at the spoonful of laudanum. It wouldn't be the first time he had to force the awfully bitter liquid down his throat. His mother had given him small, daily doses when he was diagnosed with a heavy cough as a child. Mr. White prepared a cheese and cracker sandwich before taking the spoon into his own hand, then quickly consumed the medication. He nearly spat the laudanum back out, but quickly prevented the repulsive action by following the dosage with the cheese and crackers. "He'll all ready be damned if any information we uncover from this point is considered dangerous," he replied after he wiped his mouth with a nearby napkin. "No point in restraining yourself now, Ms. Stroud."





One eyebrow raised while the other bent downward at Anna's last phrase. Robert became curious to what Ms. Stroud had been plotting, but the curiosity was easily pushed away. "All right then," he simply replied. "I was done eating anyway." Carefully, he pushed the silver tray towards Anna for her to carry back to the kitchen on her departure. "One last thin," he quickly added. "If you happen to find anytime between your work for the senate and the project, please send for my servants back home. I would appreciate a new change of clothing." For the past four days, Robert had been dressed in a pair of trousers that were extremely ill fitting, and he felt like he had put up with them long enough.
 
The Dirty Dirigible was one of many bars decorating the tall towers connecting Ashington and Silchester. Proprietors understood that most of the Ashington workers with jobs in the sky could not afford an airship ride home. They had to walk, climb, or ride one of the rickety elevators that connected the two worlds. They set up shop along the way for those wishing to refresh themselves - or get piss drunk to forget how far they had to commute to earn a living.


The Dirigible boasted ten ales on tap and a back room for private functions. Most of those “private functions” happened to involve The Network, and today was no different. Andrei slipped inside and nodded to the tall, broad man behind the bar. Ambrose Shearwater was an engineer and member of the Network as well, although no one would guess he had a brain to match his brawn.


From the back room, he heard Max’s voice through the door. Although luckily the specific words were muffled, it was clearly him. Andrei headed for the back door, knocked four times, then followed it with a soft kick of his boot to the door. All went quiet inside briefly before Max’s face appeared in a crack in the door. “Oh, it’s you.”


Andrei nodded, pushing his way inside and past the pistol-loving engineer. “Yes, it’s me. You’re lucky it’s me and the bar is quiet. Otherwise people might start wondering what’s going on back here.” As he talked, Max shut the door and Cecilia hurried to her brother’s side with a weary smile, giving him a hug. Elmer seal paced the floor. Charles Woods was leaning against a back wall and Nellie sat at a table nearby, glowring at Max.


Cecilia’s hug seemed more urgent than usual. “How is he doing?” she whispered as she released him.


Resting a hand on his sister’s shoulder, Andrei smiled at his sister. “He is awake. Although he doesn’t remember much of the attack, the doctor seems to think he will pull through.”


Andrei’s sister breathed an audible sigh of relief. “Thank God.” Her expression was reflected across the room as anxiety seemed to leave all of them to varying degrees. Elmer stopped pacing and Charles’ shoulders relaxed and he smiled at his fiancée. Nellie continued to glare at Max.


For his part, Max’s relief manifested differently. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Yes. Let’s all rejoice that Mr. White is still with us. That solves everything.”


Elmer pointed at the man. “How dare you? You put us all at risk!”


“I bought us all time,” Max snapped back.


Elmer countered quickly. “You nearly exposed us! And now we have less information, not more...” Based on the reactions of the others, this was not the first time this particular argument had been exchanged.


Cecilia stepped in between the two men, her hands up. “Enough!” She looked at her brother, her eyes weary. “You said you needed to speak to me. If Mr. White is recovering... has something else happened?”


Andrei nodded, looking over the others then meeting her sister’s eye. “To be clear, this isn’t about The Network. I appreciate what you all are trying to do...”


Nellie nodded from the back of the room. “We know, Andrei. We all know. You want to stay out of The Network’s affairs.” She smiled warmly at Andrei; the words contained no sarcasm or malice. “Which makes us very fortunate that you love your sister so much.”


Andrei adjusted his hat as he looked at Nellie before looking back at his sister. “Anna ... Ms. Stroud... wants to see you.”


Charles stood up from his lean against the wall and approached. “Do you think this has to do with the shooting?”


Max grumbled something from behind Andrei. Andrei shook his head as he saw Charles protectively put an arm around Cecilia’s waist. “No. I think this has to do with the necklace.” He turned to address the group, meeting each of their eyes in turn. “I know you all fear what Anna and Mr. White are doing. I don’t know about him, but...” His eyes fell back on his sister again. “She is a good woman. You can trust her.”


Cecilia hesitated, providing Max the opportunity to comment. “Trust her? She is the one leading the whole thing. If they find the second tier designs and apply them -- ”


Andrei turned on a heel, advancing on Max so quickly that the other man reached for his gun. “She’s the reason you know anything about what they’ve found out. Her - and me.” He glanced down at Max’s pistol as his right hand balled into a fist at his side. “Are you going to try to shoot me, too?”


Elmer’s girlish gasping could be heard from behind him, but it was Charles’ hand on his shoulder that helped him remember he didn’t want to start a fight, at least not in front of his sister. “Let’s leave this up to the president,” he said calmly, and turned to look to his fiancée.


Cecilia smiled at Charles, causing faint laugh lines to appear at the corners of her eyes. She hadn’t been sleeping well, and it showed. “I will go. To decline the invitation will be suspicious, we need more information, and...” she glanced at her brother, “it is possible that she could be an ally.” How she was going to explain their attempt to kill Anna would have to be addressed later, if that was the case.


Chapter IX

Anna found herself humming on her way to Robert’s room. Until one of the servants looked at her oddly, she had not even realized she was doing it. Stopping herself, she wondered at the cause of her light mood. It must have been the thought of walking in the garden that had her in such a fair disposition. Plus, she felt productive: the Blackcastle Engineers had delivered a poor copy of the plans for the second prototype this morning, which she had promptly asked Andrei to review in private. Cecilia Volos was due at her house in a little more than an hour, In short, she felt like they might finally be able to make some progress on the larger issues at hand.


Robert had not recovered a complete memory of the King’s Speech, but other than that he was recovering nicely; he had gained some color back and obviously felt more himself with fresh clothes and some of his personal effects, which Anna had taken the liberty of asking his staff to bring as well. Dr. Gilley cleared him for short walks. She intended to make the first one in the gardens. His room was getting stuffy and opening the windows could only accomplish so much.


She opened the doors with a smile, a fresh batch of spray roses in hand. “Good morning, Mr. White.” She swapped out the flowers beside his bed as she added, “I thought we might take a walk this morning. Dr. Gilley says you might be ready. How are you feeling? Do you feel up for stretching your legs?”
 
Nurse Pressler had been given the task to request Robert's servants for a new outfit. When she had received the bundle of clothing to bring back, she marveled at their quality, and promised herself to deliver the clothes in their original condition. She held the clothes away from her, and didn't dare to even breathe on the finely woven fabric. All that the outfit had contained was a new set of undergarments, trousers, a white button down long sleeve, and a vest. The color of the attire had been a soft blue. Nurse Pressler was relieved to have finally arrived back home with the package, then carefully set the garments in Mr. White's room while he had been sleeping.


The images that Robert had seen before during his rest did not develop further. Instead his mind continued to search for Anna's presence through the mass of people. Robert would begin to worry, but before his anxiety could climax, he would wake up, then fall back asleep, and the process would repeat itself. At one point, Anna had entered his room just as his dream had been interrupted, so he pushed himself into a sitting position as Anna greeted him. "Good morning," he politely replied, then rubbed his eyes to try to refocus his vision. "A walk?" he spoke as if to confirm, and excited by the offer to finally escape the guest room. He controlled his enthusiasm however, and calmly replied, "Of course. It has been some time since I have received proper air, hasn't it?" Robert turned his head to view the window that overlooked Anna's garden, and took a good guess as to where their walking destination would be. Then he turned his head about the room to see if the nurse had delivered his new set of clothing. A bit surprised, he spotted the attire resting on the chair at the far side of the room.


"If you would be so kind, hand me my clothing, then make your departure. I would like to be properly dressed before we begin our stroll," he commented, and gestured with his hand towards the chair. He prayed she wouldn't take this as an opportunity to get back at him for the incident that occurred during the preliminary report with the Engineers. That would just be incredibly cruel, yet somewhat desvered. It wouldn't have been a bad idea to fix his unkempt hair while he had been up. Surely Andrei must have kept some sort of hair gel in one of the restrooms, and a fine tooth comb. A razor wouldn't be a particularly bad idea either. Not for a full shave, but to tend to the edges.
 
It must have been her imagination, for a hint of joy seemed to visit Robert’s face when she mentioned a walk. Yet a smile never fully manifested, so Anna took his good mood as another minor victory for the morning. When he requested his clothing, she did not even think of the incident involving her dress and his cane. Instead, she anticipated a secondary question.


After gently laying his clothes on the bed beside him, she gestured toward a secondary door, opposite the windows that overlooked the garden. “I took the liberty of stocking the guest bath. They will not be your personal items, but hopefully they will suffice.” She paused briefly, considering whether to ask him if he needed assistance, but decided against it. Instead, she brought his cane over as well, leaning it agains the nightstand. The thought of him falling in the bath concerned her, but she had to trust in the doctor. Besides, he did look better. If he could not manage to get dressed by himself, he probably should not be walking. “I will have one of the male servants available, should you need anything,” she said before gathering up the old flowers and leaving via the main door.


Outside, she arranged for a butler to be on hand for Robert, discarded the wilting sunflowers, then fetched a sun hat for herself. While she waited, Andrei approached her, wearing an ivory shirt with suspenders. Even though the sleeves were rolled up, a few smudges of grease adorned the cuffs. “A walk in the garden, then?” he asked with a curious smile. He glanced toward the door to the guest room. “Cecilia will arrive at eleven. Do you want me to find someone else to walk with Mr. White?”


Anna chuckled and shook her head as she donned her gloves. “No, thank you. You know the garden is my pride and joy. I doubt he will be able to walk for an extended period of time. I will be ready for your sister. Besides, I will not ask the staff to weather any change in mood.”


Andrei nodded, looking at Anna for a beat before nodding. “I have some theories about the plans, but I want to study them a while longer if I may?”


“Of course. Thank you, Andrei.” Anna smiled, sensing that her friend was holding something back. He sometimes acted this way when on the verge of sharing a new discovery: he was always so careful to refrain from speaking until he was certain. Perhaps she would have to encourage him later to speak his mind, including whatever caveats he felt necessary. “I want you to know that I - that we - appreciate your work.”
 
Robert watched as Anna left the room, then began to dress himself. The task had not been easy, but that wasn't to say it was a difficult challenge either. He was thankful his servants had delivered a button down, and not a pull over. His side felt sore merely lifting his arm into the sleeve, Robert couldn't possibly imagine raising his arms any higher than his chest. Changing into his pants and vest were much easier, partially because Robert had overcome the initial aching.


Now he was fully dressed, and sat at the edge of the bed facing the nightstand. Mr. White wanted to believe staring at his own cane should not be as daunting as it had been, but no matter how hard he tried, the feeling managed to push itself past his egoistic barriers. He hesitated slightly before reaching his hand over to grasp the familiar orb, and let out a calming sigh. Robert continued the process, and pushed himself up from the edge of the guest bed. His stable sense of balance surprised him, and Robert allowed a faint smile to appear. He began to walk at a rather slow pace, uncertain of how his body would react. Aside from a slight limp that occurred whenever he stepped forward with his left foot, he was able to establish a steady stride after familiarity settled in.


"My heavens!" he exclaimed as he looked at himself in the mirror of the guest bathroom. Immediately he set to find a bottle of hair gel and a comb to tend to his hair, which had become so untidy it could practically stand on its own. Next, Mr. White managed the perimeter of his facial hair after he successfully located a razor. Once his grooming had been complete, Robert felt much more comfortable, and appeared as his usual self. He carefully placed the tools he used back into their original containers, then left the guest room to search for Anna.


Robert spotted Anna waiting for him in mid conversation with Andrei just outside of the guest room. He nodded to them simultaneously in greeting, then stepped towards them. "Will Mr. Volos be joining our walk, Ms. Stroud?" He was impartial to the additional company, and simply was curious.
 
Andrei opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of the guest room door opening, following by Mr. White’s arrival preempted his response. He nodded in response to the male senator, but deferred to Anna at the question. After all, he had not been addressed.


Anna glanced at Andrei, then back to Robert. She had to admit, he looked much more himself with some grooming and a change of clothes, even if he was leaning a little heavily on his cane. “Andrei was just saying he wanted some additional time to study the documents. Unless you would prefer the opportunity to clear your head?” She paused, providing the engineer a chance to join them if he wished.


He did not. He bowed slightly to them both. “Ms. Stroud is quite right, although I appreciate the invitation, I intend to return to my work.” He looked to Anna. “I am certain Cecilia will come to the shop first, so I will let you know when she arrives.” He departed after Anna thanked him and he excused himself.


Anna turned to Mr. White, who looked more the Senator than he had in days. “Shall we?” She did not take his arm, although she stayed close enough to his left side to provide assistance, should it be needed. Leading him slowly down the hall, she brought him to a set of French doors that opened into the garden. “You look ... refreshed,” she said, mostly to make conversation.


The doors opened into large garden protected by glass three stories above. The air inside was instantly more humid and rich with oxygen. Ponds and paths were evident among the foliage and flowers, but more than anything an assortment of greens met the eye first, dotted with flowers in nearly every shade of the rainbow. The plants ranged from ground cover to shrubs and trees. Closest to the door, the color seemed disorganized, design simply to please the eye with contrast of color and the flower’s shape. At the center of the room, a large copper wheel kept water moving within the various ponds and waterfalls. The tower that held the wheel was covered in vines and mosses. On the far side of the room, a more organized arrangement of flowers were planted in a star-shaped pattern, allowing for additional pathways and a few benches along the edges. A small wrought iron table with four chairs sat in the center of the pattern. Finally, against the far wall, a small pond dropped off into a waterfall that presumably ran under the floor toward the center of the room.


Anna did not say anything as she opened the doors and led him inside the garden, but she did watch his face. It might lack humility, but watching others' initial reaction was always her favorite part of introducing anyone to the garden.
 
While Andrei and Anna continued their conversation, Robert's ears picked up on an unfamiliar name. Cecelia had never been introduced to him before, and felt slightly confused. Were they discussing the same project relating to Synge's chamber, or something else? Perhaps Cecelia had been someone else, a woman hiring a well known mechanic, or a distant friend Anna wished to reconnect with. Robert's curiosity subsided when Anna stood beside him.


His stride only faltered once as they made their way down the hall, only by a little however, where he would not need to rely on Ms. Stroud for balance. "Thank you," he replied to her previous comment. "It is amazing what a comb and a bit of hair gel can do for a man."





They finally reached a large set of French doors, Robert's expression had been empty as she placed her hand upon the door to open it, and then it shifted to something rather indescribable. He wasn't sure whether he was feeling a sense of joy, fascination, or shock. Perhaps it had been a strange concoction of the three. After his initial reaction had settled, a large smile revealed the white of his teeth, and he praised, "I would have never guessed you were so skilled with gardening, Ms. Stroud." The smile did not leave his face for some time, but when it did leave, it left behind a trace of content.


Robert walked along the various paths within the garden beside Anna, pausing briefly here and there to admire the variety of plants she had been capable of raising, or to get a different perspective of the large copper wheel that continuously churned the pond water. Many times he had heard about Anna's impressive yard, but he never expected it to what it was.
 
Anna watched the expressions bloom and fade on Robert’s face. When he complimented her (and she chose to take it as a compliment), she thanked him quietly and then let the garden speak for itself. Of course, it was not her hand alone that tended the garden. Weeding was minimal due to the glass enclosure, but the plants still needed care and attention nearly on a daily basis. A few trusted servants knew the routine, which she prescribed in detail. She also dictated any change in plants, especially the annuals selected to decorate the sitting area, which were swapped out by season. Andrei had a hand in the creation of the irrigation system as well; the two of them had conspired the trail of copper pipes and trenches that helped water reach every plant and kept the pools from growing stagnant.


They paused periodically beside this plant or that one, but she offered little instruction. While she could tell him the reason she selected one plant over another, or could relate the anecdote of how she discovered that one flourished beside its current mate, that was purely instructional. The garden was meant to be an experience, to speak to the visitor and elicit an emotional response. While she personally enjoyed the dry and sometimes tedious details of gardening, she knew not everyone shared that interest.


He asked no immediate questions, so she walked quietly beside him, occasionally glancing to his side and wishing she could see the dressing beneath his clothes. The first sign of a problem might be renewed bleeding at the site of the wound, but his shirt and vest effectively hid them from her view. (When it occurred to her that she had grown accustomed to seeing him shirtless, she chided herself for considering that a foolish notion. Neither of them were of an age when such things should matter.)


When they reached the table, she asked, “Would you like to sit for a few minutes? I can have tea brought out.” Her gaze only flitted once to his side, betraying her concern. She considered whether to tell him about her meeting with Cecilia, but deemed it premature. Addressing the topic now might create false hope or bring dangerous attention to the young woman, and she had promised Andrei to keep her safe.
 
As they continued their march through the garden, Robert found it easier and easier to move for himself. The cane, which had become Robert's utility for support, slowly returned to its original decorative purposes. By the time they had reached the table, Robert felt like he could practically run, but he knew very well it was way too early for such actions and advised himself to maintain his calm pace.


He accepted, "A marvelous idea," then continued to walk with Anna as they neared the setting. A servant walked over to the table, and kindly asked the two senators which beverage they wished to be brought to them. Robert answered that he only wanted plain tea, and a little sugar. He would trust the servant was an honest man, and that Anna did not put the good man up to a task to drug his drink with medicine. When the servant had departed after gathering their orders, somehow Robert managed to start a civilized conversation with Anna.


"My mother would be very impressed, Ms. Stroud," he said with a slight smile. "That, or very envious. She marveled at others' gardens, but never really had the thumb for it." Robert remembered as a child watching his mother attempting to tend to tomato plants. They would grow into small sprouts, then flourish into tall stalks, but then their stems would bend in a depressing manner just as the plant was ready to produce their fruit. The servant quickly came back with Mr. White's tea, and whatever it was that Anna had ordered, then departed once more.


Robert reached his hand over the pot of tea, and gently removed the small cap to make sure the leaves had settled properly. When he saw that they met his expectations, he placed the cap back onto the ceramic container, then poured himself a drink. He added a tiny amount of sugar into his cup from the smaller jar placed next to the pot, then stirred his new solution until the sugar had dissolved completely. He allowed the drink to sit, then sat up right in his chair, and leaned his cane against the edge of the table.
 
As they sat, Anna began to feel the garden’s atmosphere working on her as well. The greenery and flowers always calmed her, but seeing Robert walking with less obvious pain and having him accept the suggestion of a brief rest both helped her nerves as well. When the servant came, she asked for an oolong tea, which she allowed to steep a little longer as Robert poured his first cup. His mention of his mother surprised him. She knew a little about his history: she had researched everyone in the Senate when she had joined its ranks. It had always seemed odd to her that a man from Ashington would not fight more vehemently for the people who shared his origins. Given his generally sour and haughty disposition, she had assumed he thought himself above them. Now she was willing to entertain the idea that her assumptions may be incorrect. Perhaps it was only about thinking himself above most people.


She smiled and dipped her head in recognition of the compliment. “I always had a gift with plants, but this has been an endeavor of ...” she paused to think, her smile dimming minutely as she realized what she was about to share. “... about six years.” She had started toying with it during her pregnancy, then returned to it in earnest after the miscarriage. Working in the dirt to nurture living things had been a comfort initially and turned into a passion. Some of her servants had been initially concerned about her obsession with the garden, but now almost all of them revered it and recognized the effect it had on Ms. Stroud.


Eventually she poured a cup of her tea, adding a little cream and sugar, and then looked at him. “I will confess I do not know what to discuss except the business with Synge’s work, and while that has merit, I feel lacking as a host. I would ask you where you learned to dance, but that seems too presumptuous.” She shook her head and took a sip of her tea. “So I will adhere to what we know works and beg your forgiveness. Andrei is examining the plans for the second automaton. If he discovers something, or I should say when he discovers something, for I have confidence both in his skill and that there is something to find, what do we do with it? If our theories about Mr. Harper are correct, then the Engineers are already several steps ahead of us, and we are not the accepted experts in this field.”
 
Robert would not have minded the conversation centered around the origins of his dancing skills. There really wasn't much to say about it, anyway. His mother started to teach him when he was a young boy, and every evening they would practice together before his father came home from the coal mines. Robert assumed Anna believed his skill had been taught through some formal method of training, like the rest had. One could say dancing was a "natural" talent for Robert, but not like debate had been. Perhaps the reason why this skill had been unknown to so many.


Anna's question seemed very open ended to Robert, or maybe it was because his mind was still recovering from the several days of rest. He would need to adjust himself to critical thinking. To Robert, it would depend on the type of information Andrei would gather for them, then they could determine what exactly to do with it. It was an open ended answer to an open ended question, though Robert did not share his true thoughts. "We will use the new found knowledge to the best of our ability," he replied instead as he took the small cup of tea into his hand. The drink was brought to his lips, the edge tenderly came into contact with his skin to test the temperature, then a small sip was taken. "Mr. Harper seems to believe we are completely oblivious towards this new machine, perhaps it should remain that way."





As they sat together, Robert's focus started to deteriorate. His gaze became blank, and his mind began another attempt to remember the events during the King's speech. The actions appeared rather random, but the subject about their project had brought it upon him. It was such a strange feeling. One moment in his life, completely gone from his memory, just like that. No matter how many times he ran the scene through his mind, anything proceeding the moment the Blackcastle Engineers had been introduced by the King would not come. He assumed the King had addressed himself, and then Anna, but what would have followed? Had the speech continued before the gun went off? How much information was the King able to share about their work? Would there be another gathering to inform the public the remaining pieces?


He quickly turned his head back towards Anna as if he had been paying attention when he realized he was not, then took another small sip from his tea.
 
Anna set her teacup down gently on the saucer and shook her head. "I am not certain now that he believes us ignorant. I have been assuming that he believes our ruse that I am a gullible woman who is so obsessed with opposing you that I cannot see the larger picture. Yet something about our conversation before the King's speech gave me the impression he is more aware than I gave him credit for. I do not want to underestimate him." She paused long enough to take another sip of her tea, set her cup down again, and start rubbing one temple. Her mind was divided, already thinking of her pending discussion with Cecilia and a surprising amount of guilt that came with choosing not to mention it yet to Robert. Although she knew it the wiser course of action logically speaking, it somehow felt like an inappropriate deception, thus she had to keep reminding herself of the promise she had made Andrei.


"Of course, that assumes he was not simply acting the fool because he is one... I could go mad trying to assess his level of political prowess. He must have some to have risen to his position within the Engineers. Even the mechanically minded have an echelon, and the human side of any organization always boils down to politic at heart..."


She paused, noting that Robert had not only failed to interrupt her, but had also allowed his attention drift. It was subtle, but she noticed the focus snap back into his gaze as he turned to her. She reached out and placed a hand on his wrist through the sleeve, concern causing her eyebrows to draw together. "Are you feeling all right?"
 
Robert's eyes shifted slightly to glance upon Anna's hand over his wrist, then slowly drew his hand away after he placed his cup of tea back onto its small saucer. "Better than I have been feeling in days," he replied, though his tone was flat, and the content that was present before had washed away. "I just need more time to think." He looked back up at Anna, trying to reassure her, but his attempts to brighten his expression failed.


Without another word, his hand clutched over the smooth, jade orb, then Robert moved from his seat. It had been slightly difficult for him to stand up again, more than he had expected and wished, but he eventually got on his feet and departed the area. The muffled taps emitting from his cane against the soft paths faded as he walked away, then the handle set of French doors clicked as it was unlatched, and clanged as they slowly swung to a close.


By this time, the stiffness in Robert's legs had dissipated, and he walked at a fairly fast pace. Not quite the speed he normally walked at, thought relatively close. During his walk through the halls towards the guests rooms, his left shoulder slammed into another body, causing Mr. White to hunch over and groan. A pile of papers fluttered through the air, and slowly drifted onto the floor. Someone had uttered a few words of distress, possibly relating to the state of the newly disorganized papers, or that of the senator. Robert placed his opposing hand on his side, and prepared himself to scold the servant who was careless enough to run into him, but his eyes rested on a much larger figure.


"Mr. Volos," he gritted slightly as he straightened his back. "A pleasure running into you. I apologize for the disorder of your documents."
 
Robert’s abrupt departure left Anna with her tea in hand, concerned for the health of his mind. While she wanted to assist him, Dr. Gilley had been clear that Mr. White had to navigate and resolve his confusion on his own time and terms. So she fought the urge to follow him, instead watching his back as he followed the meandering path back to the main house.


The garden usually brought her peace, but today would be an exception. She made some mental notes about her upcoming conversation with Cecilia, reminding herself that distraction would do no one any good.


​


Time was of the essence. Andrei had not yet gleaned overly much from the diagrams Anna had provided, although he could feel the disparate pieces of information he had gleaned during his studied coalescing into a theory. The expected epiphany remained elusive, however, and so he had gathered a collection of specifications that might help him. He was carried the rather unwieldy collection of tubes containing delicate diagrams, papers, and loose notes back to his workshop when he collided into Mr. White.


Swearing was not usually among Andrei’s vices, but at the moment, the catharsis offered by profanity proved too tempting to ignore. The papers and tubes fell in a mess on the floor, and as he attempted to collect them, he heard Mr. White’s voice. He looked up, concerned that he had further injured the senator. His lips pressed together into a thin line at the pun, although he managed to nod in response to the man’s apology. “I apologize as well. Full hands are no excuse for failing to pay close attention.”


With the first stack of documents in hand, he looked over the Senator, his eyes lingering briefly on the hand pressed to his injured side. “I hope you did not suffer further injury.” He glanced toward the garden doors down the hall, wondering why Anna did not accompany with Mr. White. Anna would likely berate him if he failed to be nice to their guest, although he had formed his own opinion of the man. In short, he suspected he would like Robert White in some respects, but he also suspected he may have reason not to in short order.


“With some luck, I will have information to share with both you and Ms. Stroud soon.” He bent down to collect one of the cylindrical canisters that held plans for various modern automatons; it had started to roll slowly toward the door, causing him to chase after it briefly. When he stood back up, his expression was more serious. “I am glad to see you up and about and hope you continue to recover quickly. We are all grateful for what you did, despite the grumbling of some of the staff. They only worry for Ms. Stroud. You understand.” He included himself among those worried for Anna, but for different reasons he would not yet discuss with the illustrious Senator White. From all reports, the man barely remembered the shooting, and Andrei had been instructed not to discuss it with him at the risk of further injuring the man who had ostensibly saved Anna’s life.


That did not mean, however, that eventually they would not have a conversation.
 
"No, of course not," Robert grunted just as he was straightening his stance, and subtly leaned on the cherry wood cane for support. He looked down at Andrei as he scrambled to catch a canister that slowly rolled its way down the hall. More papers and containers lied helplessly on the floor, but Robert did not care to fetch them for the mechanic. Robert nodded affirmatively to Andrei's minor report. He seemed like a hard working man, which allowed Robert to trust him more than he usually would have allowed himself if Andrei had been otherwise.


Then Andrei had mentioned something that caused Mr. White's head to pause in mid bow, and he cocked it slightly to the right as his eyebrows raised together. "I am not sure I do understand, Mr. Volos. I have done nothing for Ms. Stroud. You must have gathered false information," he tried to inform. If anyone had done anything for someone else, it would have been Ms. Stroud, at least, it was to Robert. "If you are referring to the event that passed at the Cotillion, that was no favor for her. Surely she must have told you all ready? If not, I am sure it will bring a few good laughs over a cup of warm tea." Slowly he pressed his hand over his side again as he felt a dull pain spread through his chest, merely from breathing. The wound did not feel like it had been opened again, so Robert assumed the area had just been bruised.


"Anna and I both appreciate the effort you have placed into this project." he continued. "I also add in my deepest gratitude for the sacrifice you have made. I will admit I was not fond of Anna's decision to include you in our endeavor, purely for your personal safety, but it has been a true benefit having you with us." He paused again to comfort the area of pain, then spoke once more. "If you have nothing more to say to me, I will excuse myself to the guest room. I hate to distract you from your work."
 
Mr. White’s reaction proved his lack of memory of the shooting, although he did seem to remember the Cotillion. Andrei looked at the other man curiously; he knew there were rumors about the two rival senators dancing at the event, but Anna had not shared anything about that night with him beyond a perfunctory dismissal of the rumors and a condemnation of Miss Snyder as a madwoman. Mr. White seemed to imply that it had more meaning.


This only increased his conviction that he would need to speak with Mr. White - once the man’s memory returned. He nodded to both the compliment paid and to accept the senator’s attempt to excuse himself. “Thank you and good day.” As Mr. White returned to his room, Andrei returned to the task of collecting his papers, glancing only once toward Mr. White. He was not meeting with Cecilia, then, which gave him some hope. Anna might trust the monarchist, but Andrei did not, at least not when it came to his sister. The man seemed to possess a strong sense of ethics in addition to his personal convictions. He appreciated Andrei’s work, but how would he feel about discovering the Network?


More importantly, how would he handle the revelation that Max was the shooter behind the attack? With any luck, they would never find out.

~ * ^ * ~

​



The light in the garden had shifted subtly, the morning shadows dissipating as the sun climbed to its zenith in the sky. Anna walked the space around the table she had shared with Robert. An assortment of finger sandwiches lay on it now, along with a fresh pot of tea and a pitcher of ice water. She looked toward the house as she heard the door to the garden open and close again, then smiled as she heard Cecilia and Andrei chatting.


“... any minute now,” Andrei was saying to his sister.


“I simply must see them!” Cecilia replied with excitement. “I have heard so much about them, but my last visit was ill timed, and I did not want to impose.”


Andrei’s tone shifted slightly, dropping in volume and introducing a tightness Anna did not fully understand. “Imposition is the least of your concerns.” By now they had reached the water wheel, and the siblings looked up, their smiles brightening as they saw Anna.


“I hear you wanted to talk with me?” Cecilia said in a teasing tone. “I was so pleased to get the invitation, if only to see your gardens again.”


Andrei shook his head with a smile for Anna. “Be careful of this one, Anna. She has designs on your garden. It’s nearly all she has talked about since her last visit.”


Cecilia lightly swatted her brother’s shoulder. “I said I admired it.” She grinned and winked at Anna immediately afterwards. “I wouldn’t dream of stealing ideas... unless you did not mind.”


Anna smiled at Cecilia, feeling her mood lift instantly in the younger woman’s presence. “Miss Volos, I consider imitation the sincerest form of flattery. Especially when I have inspired a person of your caliber.”


An odd look transpired between the siblings before Andrei stepped forward and kissed his sister on the cheek. “Stop by my workshop before you leave.” After she confirmed that she would do so, he left the garden at a quicker pace.


Anna turned to Cecilia and motioned to the table. “Will you sit?”


Cecilia shook her head. “Thank you, but if you do not mind, I would like to wander. In particular, I do not wish to miss the birds.” When Anna agreed, they spoke for a few minutes about the features in the garden. Cecilia had specific questions about the water features and the methods used to avoid rust while keeping the water fresh. The discovery that fish resided in the larger pools brought nothing but joy to the young woman. Anna laughed along with her, glad to have someone appreciate her work.


Eventually, though, she came to the conclusion that she could not allow the visit to remain purely social. As they stood by the water wheel, Anna spoke frankly. “I have a confession to make, Miss Volos.”


Cecilia interrupted her with a smile. “Please, call me Cecilia.”


With a nod, Anna corrected herself. “Cecilia, then. I am happy to share the garden with you, but it is not the only reason I requested this visit.” She paused briefly, watching as Cecilia’s posture barely changed. Was she wrong? “You are a brilliant woman, so I will not insult your intelligence. I think you know why I have asked you here.”


Anna saw a brief flash of concern cross Cecilia’s features before she reached for her necklace. “I admire you as well, Ms. Stroud.”


“Anna, please.”


“Anna.” Cecilia’s smile gained a small portion of its former substance. “I believe you harbor suspicions... but about what I am not certain.”


Anna nodded, her eyes falling on the motion of the water wheel. “I do, and they are, as you put it, uncertain. I was content to live with that uncertainty until ...” she glanced upwards toward the guest room. “... recent events.” Her eyes remained on the window for a moment. “Various pressures are rising, and I invited you here to implore you to trust me.” Tearing her gaze from the window, she met the other woman’s eyes. “Your brother is a dear friend, and I only want what is best for the nation. I will not lie to you: assisting me may place you in danger, although I will do my utmost to minimize it. So, with those ominous caveats stated,” she managed a grin, “I would greatly appreciate your assistance - and your confidence.”


Cecilia had slid the key along her chain in a nervous gesture as Anna spoke. Now she released it and let it fall back to her chest. “Why don’t we have that tea?”


After she spoke, the sound of chirping filled the air. Both women looked up - Anna with a knowing smile, and Cecilia in wonder - as twelve mechanical birds cried out and flew from hidden spots among the garden to perch out in the open. They sang a song together, tin voices made beautiful by the twelve-part harmony. Anna watched Cecilia’s wonder at the sight and prayed that she was not placing Andrei’s sister in too much danger.
 
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Robert nodded his head toward Andrei before he continued to walk down the hall, the loud clicks from the end of his cane coming less frequently as they did before. Nurse Pressler had walked passed him the moment before he reached the door to the guest room, and expressed her concern that sprouted from his faltering steps. He sighed and replied, "Do not be concerned, Ms. Pressler. It is nothing more than a small bruise, I'll be all right, I assure you." He tried to dismiss the nurse and his pain, but both acts had failed, and Nurse Pressler followed him back into his room.


"Why is Ms. Stroud not with you? Were you not having tea with her in the gardens?" Cheryl kindly questioned as she prompted the senator to remove his vest and shirt once Mr. White sat himself on the edge of the bed. Robert explained that they had been enjoying their morning with tea and flowers, but he decided to depart in advance to gather some rest. He did not explain the particular details of the conversation he had with Anna however. "Well I hope you two enjoyed your time together. The gardens are marvelous, aren't they?" Mr. White agreed with a slight nod of his head as he started to unbutton his shirt. His shirt opened, and what was revealed drew loud gasps from both viewer.


"Mr. White, this certainly is more than just a small bruise," the nurse breathed as she examined the area, afraid to touch it. A mixture of black and purple was visible past the edges of Robert's white bandage. What it had looked like beneath the bandage was still in anticipation. "You're not in any great pain?" He shook his head, and noted that it was "mild". Cheryl looked at Mr. White with concern as she moved her hands towards his side to remove the bandage, so she could investigate the injury further. Robert loudly protested, and Nurse Pressler chided him. "I have to do this, you know. Otherwise Ms. Stroud won't be very pleased. She'll probably assume I am neglecting my duties to serve you, Mr. White!"





After several moments, Nurse Pressler was able to peel away the bandage from his skin. Thankfully the wound had not reopened, and there hadn't been any visible blood. It seemed that the wound was making great progress, and had greatly decreased in size from the last sighting Ms. Pressler was able to take. The bruise looked more threatening underneath the white cloth, but now that it had been revealed, it seemed less aggressive. There had been a brief pause before either of them spoke again. "Don't tell Anna."


"Ms. Stroud? Why not!" Cheryl argued.


"She'll loose her mind. She all ready has enough to think about." Robert gently placed the tip of his fingers over the damaged area, then quickly pulled his hand away. His personal examination proved how sensitive the area had become after his collision with Andrei.


"Mr. White," she looked up to him. "Anna will be in greater distress if I do not report to her. She told me to-"


"You will not say a word to that woman!" he quickly interrupted. "If you wish so much to tend to your duties properly, you will listen to what I say. This does not need to be part of her concern."


"But sir, don't you understand?" the nurse practically begged. "You are her concern." They both paused again, and this time the nurse had been the one to break the silence. "What if she wishes to change your bandage again? She'll find out soon enough. It isn't worth to keep it a secret."





Mr. White made another pause. "Just get me some ice."





Cheryl's expression had soured as she looked up to the senator before she got up to fetch him the desired material. There was a hanging feeling of betrayal over her, and it sickened her. If she spoke, her betrayal would be placed onto Mr. White, who didn't deserve that. If she remained silent, then her betrayal would be put onto Anna, who didn't deserve that either! During her walk toward the kitchen, where the ice had been located, she passed the set of French doors that opened to Anna's garden. Her paced had diminished as she reached the passage, but when she realized Anna had been tending to a guest, she immediately picked her up her normal pace and continued to the kitchen.
 
“The last topic for the day is the recent assassination attempt. As we have no additional information to discuss, we are adjourned.” Mr. Millberry’s annoyance resounded through the Senate over the murmurs of side discussions, followed by the shuffling of feet and papers as the Senators filed out. Two seats remained suspiciously absent, a fact that had been noted no less than twelve times during his latest attempt at a Senate session.


As he stepped into the hall, Mr. Leek was awaiting him. The young man smiled compassionately at the Senate Chairman. “It seems Mr. White’s absence is felt even more acutely than I imagined,” he began.


Mr. Millberry cut him off abruptly. “Indeed!” His steps slowed as he glanced at the young man, irritation clear on his features although he attempted to restrain his commentary. It would not be appropriate for him to complain to such a junior member of the staff. For heaven’s sake, Edward was not even staff.


Mr. Leek seemed not to notice the Chairman’s attempted restraint, for he carried on like the rest of the crowd, unable to help himself from repeating the blather that had been circulating for nearly a week. “And that he remains at Ms. Stroud’s estate... After the Cotillion, well, you cannot fault them for some gossip. Think of what it would mean, if they joined forces.... and for which cause?” The young man nodded to the occasional senator or aide as they passed through hte halls toward Mr. Millberry’s office. “It is a distraction, Sir. Perhaps you should speak to them?”


Mr. Millberry’s lips turned white as he pressed them together in irritation. Miss Melva Snyder waited outside his office, her chin unusually high as she spoke to a cluster of men nearby. Over the past few days, he had suffered countless visits from the woman, and he knew that she was one of those sewing discord amongst the Senate - especially against Ms. Stroud. “Mr. Leek, inform everyone that I will be taking no more appointments this afternoon.”


Edward looked at the Chairman curiously, but wisely held his tongue and kept from smiling at the exasperation in the man’s voice. “Yes, Sir.” He bowed slightly,then watched Mr. Millberry go into his office and shut the door without sparing a glance at Miss Snyder or the others waiting for him. Holding his arms open in a combination of apology and ushering them along, he began the process of dissuading them from disturbing the Chairman. He allowed himself a small smile. With luck, it would take all afternoon.

~ * ^ * ~

​



The Rossin-Sussex Memorial Repository for Public Erudition, or “The Library”, as the people called it, looked positively morbid in Lord Douglas McCallister’s estimation. The journey to the lower levels of Silchester had been uneventful. The people’s ignorance amused and annoyed him in equal measure: he was one of the most influential people in Aneora, but few would recognize him on the street. If the King or Prince ventured to the Library, they would be swarmed with attention, especially after the recent assassination attempt. He had argued as much when proposing this trip to King Geoffrey.


A young man with circles under his eyes greeted him at the door. With minimal encouragement and explanation, he was led back to the now-infamously secret room. A startled Chief Engineer Harper hurried to the door as he saw his approach. “Lord McCallister! We ...” he glanced behind him, motioning for the other Engineers to put some papers away and be on their best behavior. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”


Douglas ignored Mr. Harper’s attempt to delay him and stepped past him into the small room. The two prototypes stood on the desk, glinting in the flickering light of the lanterns positioned around the room. He walked past them to peer at the books lining the shelves. “I told the King I would check in on your progress. Given Mr. White’s current incapacitation, I want to be able to assure His Majesty that a report would be available soon. Given recent events, He is eager to hear your discoveries.”


“Of course!” Mr. Harper answered, perhaps a bit too eagerly. “As my letter said, we will be ready to share our findings soon. Perhaps within a week? With luck, the Senators should be able to hear the report at the same time.”


Lord McCallister looked over the room, including the Engineers, assessing each in turn. He said nothing, prompting Mr. Harper to continue speaking.


“Of course, if they are not prepared when our report is, we will proceed without them, if that is the King’s wish.”


Douglas offered a polite smile. “Your current focus is on the second prototype?”


“Yes, Sir. As the King commands, so we serve.”


McCallister nodded, putting a hand on the Chief Engineer’s shoulder. “Excellent. I will inform the King. I am sure he will be most pleased to hear from you within a few days.”


Mr. Harper hesitated, but did not correct the King’s advisor. Instead, he saw him to the door and wished him well. When he returned to the chamber, he clapped his hands together. “You heard him, men. We must have news for the King in a few days. Let us not delay!” The excitement evident in his voice was understandable: Mr. White was unlikely to recover fully before the audience with the King, and the modified plans provided to Ms. Stroud ensured they would not be able to shame him this time. He - and the Engineers, of course - would finally get the credit they deserved.
 
Cheryl had successfully fetched a packet of ice for Mr. White, and not a word had been exchanged between herself and Ms. Stroud. When she arrived back to the guest room, Robert had all ready situated himself under the covers to receive more rest. A small smile appeared on Nurse Pressler's small lips, but it also concerned her. He had only gotten up moments ago to walk with Anna in the gardens. Perhaps the walk had been too much, and significantly drained his energy. Or perhaps it had been from the newly formed bruise over his wound. Or perhaps it had been a combination of the two scenarios that ran through the young woman's mind. Eventually she was able to convince herself that rest was exactly what Robert needed, and walked to the side of the bed.


Robert had put his dress shirt back on, but the garment remained unbuttoned. He thanked the nurse for retrieving the ice and remaining quiet, then placed the group of ice on his side over the bruise. Once it had been placed in a stable position, he requested Nurse Pressler to send to his servants again for another set of clothing before dismissing her from the room. Cheryl nodded with enthusiasm to confirm his command, then made her departure.


For once, Robert had been completely alone in the guest room. Normally Anna had been sitting by his side, or in the chair on the other side of the room. He turned his head toward the gardens as he thought of her. Had it been wrong of him to leave her so suddenly like that? No, Robert reasoned with himself. There was no wrong doing in his part, or anyone's for that matter. Talking of the project had come too early, but how would they have known had they not discussed it in the first place? He tried not to think about their endeavor too much, but it had stuck in his mind, and the ideas were hard to be relieved from with no other subjects to focus on. Thoughts of the mysterious automaton and Black Castle Engineers were the last to run through his head before he had fallen asleep.


Robert found himself among the large crowd of people in what his mind perceived as the market square as he drifted into a deep sleep. A subtle panic rose within him as his search for Anna's figure continued. It almost felt as if the mass of people was endless. Robert had looked passed shoulder after shoulder after shoulder, and Ms. Stroud's presence was still missing.


"Chief Monarchist, Robert White!" he heard a voice roar, and suddenly found himself standing upon the stage. In his dream, he had been dressed in the same dark navy jacket he had been wearing during the King's speech, but the glove on one hand had been missing, and he did not have his cane in his usual possession. The sea of people jumped and cheered as they viewed him upon the platform, making it harder for Mr. White to catch any signs of Ms. Stroud. As his blue eyes scanned continued to scan the crowd, the vision seemed to fade around him, leaving his figure to stand in completely white atmosphere. Confused, he turned about, looking for any signs of anything. This task had also seemed to be failing.


His motions seized when he spotted a figure in the distance, and nearly held his breath. Was it Anna? No, it could not have been, not with such a lazy stride. Still, he remained curious, and called out to the shadow. "Anna?" There had been no response. For a while, Mr. White and the mysterious shadow remained completely still, until the figure started to move again in Robert's direction. A sudden sense of fear washed over the senator as the shadow came closer and more defined. It was clear after that brief moment that the figure was indeed not the woman he had been looking for. So who was it?


"Anna!" Robert shouted again as he started to doubt his own thoughts. The figure came to another abrupt halt merely seconds after Robert had made his second call, and at looked as if the shadow had been staring at him. Another moment had passed where neither character moved from their spot, but not as long as before, and it had been interrupted by the previous shout that called upon Mr. White.


"Chief Anarchist, Anna Stroud!"





Robert quickly whirled his head around to find Anna, but she had not arrived. "Anna!" he screamed a third time as he continued to glance around the blank envelopment. He had not payed attention to the dark figure before him until he noticed a subtle movement, and paused. That sense of fear that came over him before exploded, seemingly for no apparent reason, until it became clear to Robert seconds later what the shadow held in his hand.


There had been no clue as to who the shadow belonged to, other than the sluggish steps it used to approach Mr. White in his wild dream. There had been, however, a clear vision to the object under the obscured figure's supposed grip. A wooden handle protruded from the edge of the shadow, and lead into a short, iron barrel. A flash of light shined over the body of the weapon to accent its unique description. Along the side the barrel of the gun had been a dark carving of a complex design. From what Robert could tell, it had been in the shape of a key, though he did not have much time to analyze the inscription before the gun had gone off.


Robert's heart began to pound, the rapid pace filling the endless space around him with noise, and the dark figure faded away. His entire body dripped in sweat, and his hands uncontrollably shook. Amazingly, the bullet from the pistol had missed Robert's figure, though he was still startled. Slowly, he began to turn around after making sure the guns man had completely disappeared. His mind was still unaware that he was experiencing a dream, so Robert did not force himself to wake up. As he turned in the other direction, another figure was revealed by the empty space before his feet. It had only taken him seconds to realize who the pale figure fallen before him had been.


Instantly he fell to the ground beside the lying figure and began to protest. Anxiety and fear washed over him again as he glanced over the limp body, easily identified as Ms. Stroud. Tears spilled from the corners of his eyes as he began to realize what had happened. Robert reached over to cradle Anna's corpse, but quickly stopped himself when he realized the glove on his hand was turning a bright shade of red. He lightly dabbed the tips of his finger from his other hand over the red substance that stained his glove to examine it, then suddenly felt a wave of pain through his chest. A whole made its appearance on the front of his jacket, and panic began to settle itself in Robert's mind.


Another loud gunshot pushed Robert out of his dream, and he woke with a terrifyingly loud scream. He had been so startled from his dream at the moment of his waking, that his sudden moved caused the comforters and sheets to be thrust off the edge of the bed. His breathing was quick and heavy, and his body was coated in a light layer of sweat. Quickly he shuffled about, glancing over his hands and chest for any abnormalities, then scanned the area for Anna. Now he had realized he had been deeply immersed in a horrifying and wild dream, but he wanted to be sure.
 
Andrei Volos’ workshop consisted of three rooms on the west side of the Stroud estate. It had started as one room, but it had quickly become evident that the mechanic needed more space due both to the amount of tools and equipment required and the sheer size of his projects. Anna had offered him the additional space without reservation. Her investment had paid off tenfold over the years in Andrei’s inventiveness and loyalty.


After meeting with Cecilia, Anna had walked the garden for a time before seeking Andrei. The information his sister had shared had shed new light on the issue of Synge’s inventions and how they might proceed with their investigation. Yet she felt more than ever that every decision was rife with pitfalls. Robert’s warnings about placing her friends in danger echoed in her mind, but she felt it her duty to follow up on the information she had been provided. Worse yet, she could not keep it from Robert. Not for long.


Cecilia had agreed to arrange a meeting for Anna with some of the leaders of “The Network”, as she called it. After some debate and providing personal reassurances, Cecilia had reluctantly agreed to include Mr. White in that meeting, especially after they both agreed they could not meet until Mr. White had returned to reasonably good health. (Anna had not specifically mentioned his lack of memory; she did not want Cecilia to believe him a greater risk due to his being addlebrained.)


She had discovered Andrei comparing diagrams in the room that served as his private office within the workshop. He did not look pleased at what he was seeing, and even less so when she informed him of her plan.


His frown etched deep lines into the corners of his mouth, enough so that it seemed to infect the rest of his features as well. “Are you certain, Anna? This is the same man who has opposed you at every turn, who you yourself called ‘infuriatingly brilliant’ and ‘a master of deceptive arguments’?


She shook her head and lifted her hands in a gesture of helplessness. “Honestly, no, I am not certain, but I must follow my conscience. I cannot keep this from him and continue to work beside him; and I cannot work this alone. Not any more.”


While it had seemed impossible the moment before, Anna saw the lines of Andrei’s displeasure deepen further. “Is this about the shooting? You may owe him your life, but you do not need to repay him in kind.”


“No.” Anna bristled and stared at Andrei for a moment. “No, it is not about that. Although obviously it factors into my trust for him. He does not remember it, but... “


Andrei stepped closer, his brow furrowing in concern even as he interrupted her with carefully measured words. “Have you considered the possibility that he may be deceiving you and planning to turn this alliance against you?”


Anger roiled inside her at the accusation, although she was self-aware enough to recognize that Andrei’s words were spoken out of concern. Her annoyance must have shown on her features, for Andrei waited silently for her response without pressing further. Her tone was measured and clipped as she replied, “Robert may be many things, but that sort of deception is not in his nature.” She paused, realizing how personally that implication affected her but unwilling to voice as much. “He is committed to this cause and protecting the nation.”


“And what if he sees The Network as a threat to the nation?”


Anna looked at her friend, fighting back unexpected tears. “I do not know,” she admitted.


Andrei shook his head. “Well, I hope you puzzle it out soon. I do not need to tell you that many lives are on the line.”


At that moment, they heard a servant approaching, and both of them turned to face the door. It was Nurse Pressler, who held her bonnet in her hands. The poor piece of cloth was wrinkled from being wrung repeatedly by the nurse. When Anna motioned for her to join them, she stepped tentatively inside. “Please forgive the interruption. Ms. Stroud, I need to speak with you.” Her gaze flitted nervously between Anna and Andrei before returning to Anna. “It is regarding Mr. White.”

~ * ^ * ~

​



After the nurse had informed her of Mr. White’s new bruise, Andrei had confessed that might be his fault. Apparently the two gentlemen had collided in the hallway. Nurse Pressler implored her not to tell Mr. White that she had spoken of it, which triggered a curious look from Andrei. Anna had thanked the nurse and returned to her normal evening routine - or what had become normal now.


Eventually she slipped into the guest room quietly, a book on the history of mechanics in hand that should serve her until dinner. After removing the mostly-melted icepack from Robert’s side, she claimed what she had now come to think of as “her” chair by the window and began to read. The author, while obviously an expert in his field, had a dry writing style that Anna found difficult to absorb without her eyelids fluttering closed. She rested her head in her hand and tried to focus, but still she nodded off periodically. When she had nearly decided to give up on the material for the night, she heard Mr. White stir. He had been making faint noises in the last half hour, but nothing entirely out of the norm for someone attempting to sleep with an injury - or so she had assumed.


Glancing over, she noticed that he had kicked a great deal of the covers off of him in his sleep. He lifted his hand in his sleep to his side, and he sported a pained expression on his face. She stood and began moving to his bedside, hoping to reassure him back into a restful sleep. Before she reached his bed, however, he woke with a scream. She jumped as well, yelping at the sudden movement and noise, then held her hand to her chest as she watched him check himself for injury. Instantly she felt compassion for him; he must have been having a nightmare about the shooting, or at least about getting injured, and who could blame him? As he looked around frantically, she stepped toward him and sat on the side of the bed, reaching out to take his hand as she held the other over her rapidly beating heart. “I am here. It was only a dream.”
 
"Don't touch me!" he exclaimed when Anna approached, and held out both of his sweaty palms to ward the woman away. His body temperature had become incredibly high, making it more difficult for him to relax. It seemed ironic towards his previous action, but now that he knew Ms. Stroud had not been shot dead, he became more focused on how startled he was. He could feel his heart pounding relentlessly against his chest, and wish he never drank any of the tea. Robert still attempted to calm himself, pushing any of Anna's efforts to aide him. Eventually he could hear the pace of his heart reduce, and he gently leaned his head against the back of headboard.


For an unexplainable reason, tears started rushing from his eyes again, and now matter how he tried to control them they would not stop. His dream had been the trigger, and brought back all of the events that occurred during the King's speech. This frightened Robert. He briefly glanced over to Anna through his tear filled eyes, then quickly turned away. Whether she asked him the question or not, the details of his dream would never be shared. Remembering the specific facts from the King's speech was all ready traumatizing enough. His body was still not completely calm from his awakening. A slight trembling was still visible in his hands, and his breathing wasn't exactly normal.


Robert moved his hand to his side, protecting the bruised area from any contact and hopefully Anna's vision. He did not know yet that the nurse had betrayed his order, and news of his minor accident was all ready known to Ms. Stroud. There had been a brief moment when his anxiety heightened as his mind was captured in the thoughts of the tragic event, but he eventually calmed, then realized his hands were no longer shaking and his eyes had become absent of tears. It made sense to him now, why Anna had taken him under her care. To blatantly put it, he saved her from a most certain death. In that one moment, nearly all of his questions had been answered, the only one that remained unanswered was the identity of the assailant. He began to regret some of the words he had said to Anna early on during his recuperation, mostly about her past with Sam. Even for him it was insensitive and incredibly unnecessary. Unfortunately his words could not be revoked, and Robert wasn't sure if he would be able to forgive himself.


Now it would be obvious, there would be some questions Robert would need to answer. Why did he save Anna? Did he know who the guns man was? Was the act part of one of the circulating conspiracies? He wasn't sure if he would be ready to answer either of those questions. Robert believed that when his memory returned, the healing process would be complete, but he felt far from cured. Even as his breathing started to slow and his pulse returned to normal during the long moment that passed, there still felt like a lot of mending was still underway. His efforts to restrain Anna from aiding him had long forfeited, and he allowed the woman to do whatever it was that felt necessary to her. Robert was finally able to turn to her again without loosing control of his mind. He simply looked at her, and prepared his courage for what he was about to say.


"During the Cotillion, I came across a rather unfortunate set of circumstances." Robert's words were concise, but the speed at which they were spoken dragged, and his tone was dry. He knew very well that Anna was well informed of the Cotillion, but he felt that the information needed to be irritated in order for him to make his point. "These series of events led me to rely on you for your assistance, I had no other option." He paused to pace himself, and took a few deep breathes. "After our dance together at the Cotillion, I felt something that I do not believe I have felt in a fairly long time." Robert was glad his words seemed slow. The convenient speed allowed him to pick his words wisely. He did not want his companion to receive the wrong meaning. Another pause was given, and Robert swallowed. "King Roghan had just finished our introductions, and I had spotted something rather odd among the crowd," he clarified, "a gun." He did not say if he knew who the holder was, or that he remembered the unique engraving along the barrel, simply what he had seen at that moment.


Suddenly Robert felt his throat tighten, and it became increasingly difficult for him to speak. "This man or woman did not seek to harm the King," he tried to state strongly. "Nor was it for the Prince, Mr. Harper, or myself," he gave a brief pause before continuing. "It was you." His fist tightened beside him, and he fought back a wave of tears. Eventually he settled, and was able to continue. "I was brought back to that feeling our dance gave me when I had realized who the target had been, so I pushed you out of the way." He turned his head, and looked directly in Anna's eyes. "I had no other option."
 
His vehement rejection of her attempt to help was clearly a manifestation of his state of mind. While it was perfectly understandable, it still caused Anna to jump - again - until she sat closer to the foot of his bed with both hands over her heart. He clearly had suffered a terrible fright, but seeing him cry was unexpected. It was uncomfortable for both of them, yet she would not feel right leaving him in this state. Instead, she busied herself with wetting a cloth and offering it to him. He seemed to have regained some control and calm, so she asked as she offered the cloth, "Do you want to talk about it?”


He neither took the offered cloth nor responded to her question. At least not as she might have expected. He did not speak of his dream, but of the Cotillion. As he spoke, she watched him curiously and set the cloth aside again.


His words were cryptic, muddled perhaps by the recent recovery of memory or the grogginess that often comes with waking. When he mentioned feeling something out of the ordinary, she felt her heart rate increase slightly and instantly reprimanded herself for it. She looked at him curiously, her hands now in her lap as she waited for him to complete his thoughts.


Then he mentioned the King, and she knew he had recovered at least part of the memory. Her jaw twitched as she swallowed a lump that had manifested in her throat without warning, and when he mentioned the gun, she flinched slightly and closed her eyes. She looked up as he spoke the truth she had suspected but not voiced: that she had been the target of the assassination, but her eyes dropped back to her folded hands in her lap when he showed such an emotional reaction to the declaration. Was he upset that she had been the target? Or was he simply recalling the pain of that moment when he had been shot?


His explanation was careful and precise, as his words always seemed to be. Yet she had a difficult time gleaning his meaning. I had no other option. Was he apologizing, equivocating, or confessing?


By now, her own eyes shone with unshed tears. Anna held his gaze in an uncomfortable moment of silence, unsure what to say that would not sound trite or unthankful. Eventually she settled for a slow nod. “I...” She closed her eyes and took a slow breath before looking to him again. “There are no words sufficient to express my gratitude. I only hope you will forgive me for keeping the details from you. The doctors said it would be best for you to remember on your own.” She frowned, clenching her hands tightly in her lap. She had planned to tell him about her meeting with Cecilia, but now was decidedly not the time.


She purposefully avoided asking the larger question that haunted her. What feeling had he had alluded to? It would not be right to press him on such a question when he had just awoken from a nightmare recollection of his injuries. Still fighting back her own tears, she took a slow breath and offered a small smile and placed a hand on his forearm, attempting to reassure him. “I believe this a good sign, though. Now if you can only avoid re-injuring yourself,” a hint of teasing visited her tone briefly, “we might return to the larger mysteries at hand. Those questions and other discussion can wait until morning, however, when you are better rested.”


Perhaps it was a coward’s way to handle the situation, but she reminded herself that it was unfair to press him given his state of mind.
 
Anna must not have understood. Robert was not trying to punish Ms. Stroud for secluding the information from him. He had been, in a very odd way, trying to convey to her that his memory recovered. He also wanted to reassure her that his life saving action was genuine, and not part of some absurd sedition. Anna's apologize was not needed, and nor was Robert's forgiveness. They owed each other nothing now. They both had protected one another from life threatening situations, and that was enough for Robert.


Robert's expression turned to its default position, though his eyes were still tender from crying. Anna smiled and quickly pushed the subject heavily onto the project. His mind must have been incredibly groggy still, for thoughts of the project were the last to arrive. Yes, the shooting and recent discovery related to one another at a glance, but the two were distinctively different from one another to Robert. The shooting did not bring up the concerns over the mysterious machine that awaited their examination, instead it had raised his concerns for Anna.


There was no denying anymore, Robert held strong feelings for Ms. Stroud. He had done his best to convey his emotions to her, but her mind seemed to be so caught up in the project that it hindered her from truly understanding what he had meant. Truthfully, Robert had been thankful for this. Instead of clarifying his statement, he simply sent a small smile back as she touched his forearm, though briefly, then his face had been pushed back into a flatter expression.


Her last statement brought up a small laugh and broader smile. It appeared that the nurse had been unable to hold her tongue, but it didn't seem to matter now. In truth, he was not fond of falling back to sleep. The dream had returned to him several times, and though it was probably due to his recovering memory, he still feared any further development. Though dreams were merely ideas, he was not enamored by the sight of Anna's lifeless corpse, or what it could be. He understood that he was tired, however, and slowly nodded his head to confirm he would make an effort to receive more rest. It would just be more difficult for him to fall back asleep with his lingering paranoia.


~ ~ ~



​



Robert managed to gain a small amount of extra sleep that night, but his mind was too restless to be fully submerged in sleep. One of Anna's servants had fetched a clean pair of clothing for him from his own residence for the following morning. The new outfit was more complete than the last. Not only had it included the dress shirt, vest and trousers, his servants also provided a jacket and hat. He had sent Anna's servant back once more to deliver a small piece of parchment, the contents only meant for the eyes of his employees, after he quickly jotted down a few notes during that morning.


Properly dressed, and in much better health conditions, Mr. White had regained his usual, ominous appearance. He quickly left the guest room, cane in hand, and searched the household for Anna. The woman had wanted to speak with him about the project's current status, if he had remembered correctly.
 
Chapter X

The night had passed with no further incident, but eventually Anna’s fatigue had caused her to relinquish her duties and leave Nurse Pressler to watch over Mr. White. The nurse had practically ordered Anna to her own bed. While the last exchange with Robert lingered brightly in her mind, she was surprised that sleep claimed her quickly. She awoke feeling physically better but still plagued by a growing number of unanswered questions.


After washing and getting dressed in a white gown decorated with a delicate pattern of burgundy flowers and matching trim, she intended to speak with Andrei. He had said he was close to a potential discovery about the plans, and she craved something concrete for her mind to latch onto. It might help the distracting array of questions that flitted to her mind, not the least of which was how Robert faired and whether he would even real his groggy statements from the night prior, never mind what they might mean.


Yes, focusing on the spider-like automatons and what they might signify seemed far more prudent, not to mention more dangerous.


Unfortunately, she did not make it to Andrei’s workshop before one of the servants announced her father.


James Alexander Stroud had retired from the Senate a little over four years ago, but that had only mildly diminished his influence in Aneoran society. While he moved more slowly now, utilized a cane, and selected his social calls carefully, he kept abreast of the latest news in politics and his mind remained sharp. Anna treasured his advice but rarely overtly requested it. Early on in her career as a Senator, it was important to her that her decisions and actions were distinct from her father. So she had avoided his advice entirely until she had established her own reputation. Later, having made her own mistakes and reached her own conclusions, it had felt like she had earned his respect as well as that of the Senate, so they rarely talked unless it was a critical matter where she might ordinarily seek the counsel of a man of his seniority and knowledge.


Since she had become a Senator, he had sought her out to advise her and express his concerns only twice. Normally, he paid strictly social calls to his daughter, scheduling them in advance due to their hectic schedules. Today’s visit was unexpected, and she could see the tension in the set of his broad shoulders when she greeted him in the foyer, kissing his cheek and offering him a chance to visit.


A short while later, they had settled on tea in the music room. Since her father had severe allergies that made a trip to the garden painful, this was their habit. The conversation, however, had turned toward anything but the expected once they moved passed the initial pleasantries.


He expressed no concern for her wellbeing. She took no offense: her father, while often passionate about issues, was not sentimental. He did, however, raise the issue of her reputation, especially the rumors about Mr. White staying with her.


Anna had not taken the implications well. While she remained seated, she could not help the edge in her voice. “Do you believe my honor is at stake, Father?”


“Tarnished? No.” He said, teacup in hand and dark gaze meeting hers. “At stake? Yes.” His calm retort irked Anna. Even in the midst of an argument, he would correct her debating approach. “You have worked so hard to establish a pristine reputation as a formidable senator. It is well deserved and brings me great pride.” He took a small sip of his tea then shook his head. “I appreciate your compassion, Anna, but you must be careful. A short stay to bring him back to health is compassionate. Beyond that...” His words tapered off, leaving a trail of implications behind them.


“Beyond that, and I am ... what? A fool?” She shook her head.


James set down his tea and reached for his daughter’s hand. “No. You have a generous heart. I know this. The people know this, which is why they believe in you, even through this business with Synge’s work.”


Anna closed her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek to keep from snapping at her father. She had not discussed Synge’s work with him, nor could she. It would only put him in danger.


James read this as a sign that he should continue. “I only ask: Is caring for him personally worth the damage to your reputation?” Hepaused a beat. “He seems like a good man, if misguided in his politics and barely tolerable socially. Or at least that is your mother’s summary.”


Anna’s eyebrows lifted at that as she slowly sat forward in her chair. “You have discussed this with mum?”


“Of course. Where do you think I got my information about the current gossip?”


Anna pinched the bridge of her nose. “He is a good man. Yes, he can be infuriating, but...” But what? She did not yet know how to explain - not even to herself - her strong impulse to defend him. And her father was surely making note of it as well. “He saved my life, Father. You taught me to stand up for what is right, no matter the cost. This is what is right.” As she continued speaking, James leaned back slowly in his chair, watching his daughter with interest. “Whatever damage is done to my reputation can and will be repaired. I will not abandon him or his recovery because people like to gossip. Gossip and rumor is ever present, and there will be something else for them to titter about soon enough.”


Her father’s eyebrows knit together as he spoke softly and slowly. “You are correct: I taught you to fight for what is right. I also taught you to be wise in that fight so that you might have the largest impact.” He paused for effect, examining her as if he could read her mind as she suffered the admonition. “Forgive me, but... you seem to be taking this quite personally.”


Anna took a deep breath and nodded. She did not want to discuss Robert White with her father. It simply wasn’t wise. “It is my reputation we are discussing, and that is very personal.” She offered an apologetic smile before pouring more tea for them both.


Her father accepted the silent apology with a minute nod. “You have been working with him for a few weeks now, yes? He has a reputation as a curmudgeon but an amazing orator, and your debates with him have gained a reputation of their own. Has working closely with him given you any further insight into your opponent?”


Anna glanced toward the door that led toward the guest rooms before looking back at her father. In her mind, she saw Robert lying on the bed in the dark, eyes swollen with tears. It felt like a betrayal to even think of him in such a private state while speaking with her father. “I dare say it has, although he likely has gained the same advantage,” she said in as detached a tone as she could manage. She raised her cup again and attempted to change the subject. “Is mum planning another dinner anytime soon? At least three people ask me about them at every social gathering.”


Her father took the hint, although Anna was fairly certain she had said too much or too little. No one could read her like her father, and she wondered what he saw in her responses. Then a servant stepped inside, announcing that Mr. White was seeking Ms. Stroud, and should she show him in?


James Stroud stood and straightened his jacket. “What a fortunate turn of events. I would most like to meet the man again.” He looked to his daughter, as this was her house.


Anna stood, smoothing out her skirts as she nodded to her father. “Certainly.” She addressed the servant. “Will you please show him in?”
 
Robert and Anna never specified where they would meet that morning, though he had assumed they would convene in the gardens. He quickly began making his way to the large set of French doors, the end of his cane giving off soft taps as he wandered down the halls, then realized she had not been present.


"Taking a stroll among the gardens again, Senator?" a gardener smiled as they spotted Mr. White walking by.


"Though the idea is a pleasant, it is not my main course of action," he plainly replied as he turned around to look by the small seating area near the middle of the terrace. "You would be of great service to me if you would kindly direct me to Ms. Stroud," he added as he turned around again to face the gardener.


"Not in here today, sir," they replied as a large, green plant was rooted from the earth. "Oie!" the gardener suddenly called over to the other side as they twisted their head around. "Senator White wants to know the whereabouts of Ms. Stroud. Do you think you can help him? I've got to take care of this little bugger before it starts over running the lilies." Another gardener quickly rushed over to Robert's side as she brushed his hands free from excess dirt.


"I cannot say I have seen Ms. Stroud today, Senator White. I don't think I will be of much help to you... try looking on the other side of the house perhaps?" The gardener knew this was probably not the advice Mr. White had been looking for, and embraced themsevles for any kind of punishment.


Mr. White rolled his eyes and let out a deep breath. "Of course," he muttered to himself, then left the garden without another word. The two caretakers watched as the senator left the area, and didn't resume their work until they heard the set of doors close with a loud click.


Eventually, Robert found someone that seemed reliable enough to guide him towards Anna's location. Turned out she had been waiting in the music room. It surprised him that she had not placed herself within the gardens. The containment of vibrant colors and greenery seemed to tranquilize Ms. Stroud. With such a heavy project at their feet, he wondered why she had chosen a different location. He followed the servant to another group of hallways, and was asked to wait outside the room before he entered.


"You may come in, Mr. White," the servant spoke when he reappeared, and bowed his head as the senator passed him. He startlingly surprised that Anna had not been alone, but restrained himself from showing any physical signs of his surprise. Robert believed the last sighting he caught of James Alexander Stroud was his day before his retirement. It had been quite some time since the two men were seen in the same room together. Robert wondered if the retired politician would remember who he even was. Mr. White had been within the senate for several years at the time, though had not obtained the position he had now. James was a very knowledgeable man, and though Robert would never publicly admit it, he struggled slightly to debate the elder's statements.


A series of questions started to flood his mind as he laid his eyes on the two figures before him. Had Anna understood the meaning of his muddled confessions from the previous night, and wanted him to formally meet her father? Was she recruiting yet another superior mind into their dangerous task? Was James questioning his close presence with his daughter? Robert quickly prayed that neither scenario had been the case.


"Senator Stroud, Ms. Stroud," he greeted, and bowed as deeply as he could without agitating his injury. As he raised himself again, he glared towards Anna, more roughly than he had expected. "Has our previous engagement been postponed?" his voice seemed to darken.
 
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