Chapter 3: The Baron's Wife (3)
"Your Honor, I shall now take my leave. There is much investigation to be done," Eliza declared, poised to depart, yet she hesitated, turning back.
"Furthermore, Your Honor, this case may prove the innocence of your family," she added. Vincent, spurred by her words, sprang from his seat.
"That will be all," Eliza stated, reaching for the door handle.
"Wait," he commanded, halting her in her tracks. "What do you mean? Explain."
Turning to face him once more, Eliza met his gaze unwaveringly. "Please, trust me just this once, Your Honor. Victory has never eluded me in this field, not once," she asserted confidently.
"I shall provide you with all the case materials upon my return. Grant me..." Her eyes flicked to the wall clock. "Six hours. Within that time, I shall furnish you with everything about this case," she promised before swiftly exiting the room.
As soon as Eliza departed, he swiftly retreated to his seat, penning a letter with urgency.
"Gareth," he called out, summoning a masked figure through the window.
"Your Highness," the masked intruder acknowledged, bowing before him.
"Keep me informed of her every move. Then deliver this letter to him," Vincent commanded.
"Yes, Your Highness," Gareth replied, preparing to depart.
"Hold on," Vincent interjected, causing Gareth to pivot back.
"If anything should occur, safeguard her at all costs until help arrives," he instructed, watching Gareth nod before exiting through the window.
"Eliza...?" Vincent murmured, a mixture of concern and confusion crossing his features.
"Regardless. So long as you are alive," he whispered, a faint smile gracing his lips amidst his sigh.
Meanwhile, Eliza dashed through the bustling shops, procuring a disguise of men's clothing and a selection of cosmetics. With deft hands, she transformed her appearance into that of a nobleman's.
"Alright..." she muttered with a sigh, setting her sights on the red-light district. As she traversed its winding streets, she was accosted numerous times by solicitations from brothels, and even bore witness to the debauchery of a shadowy alley. Suppressing her simmering fury, she clenched her fists and pressed on towards her chosen establishment.
"Welcome, Sir," greeted the brothel manager as Eliza crossed the threshold.
"How many companions do you desire, Sir?" the manager inquired, her smile inviting.
"Um...I'll have a drink first," Eliza replied, modulating her voice with a magical tool procured from a clandestine cosmetic shop.
"I'll make my selection later," she added, handing over a sum of twenty silver reals.
"Of course, Sir. Right this way," the manager acquiesced, guiding her to a seat.
While feigning sips of her beverage, Eliza discreetly surveyed the brothel. After a time, she beckoned the manager over.
"I've made my decision. I seek someone with ash-blonde hair," she declared, noting the manager's apprehensive reaction.
"Um...Sir, we don't have anyone fitting that description. However, I can offer our most esteemed courtesan," the manager offered, her demeanor tinged with unease.
"Liar," Eliza surmised, detecting the woman's deceit.
"Oh...she must already be engaged with another client. What a shame," she lamented, feigning disappointment.
"In that case, simply bring me someone with a humor," she continued, prompting the manager to lead her to a private chamber.
As Eliza stepped into the dimly lit chamber, her gaze fell upon a striking young woman draped in diaphanous white attire, seated amidst a bed strewn with petals, her countenance marred by an air of melancholy despite her ethereal beauty.
"Please, indulge yourself," the brothel manager chirped cheerfully, prompting a nod of acquiescence from Eliza, though inwardly she recoiled with disgust.
"What's your name?" Eliza inquired, draping her outer garment over the lady's shoulders. The young woman glanced up at her with reverence.
"I am Trisha, Your Grace," came the reply.
"Let us share a drink, Trisha," Eliza proposed, pouring a glass of wine and extending it to her.
"How long have you been in this line of work?" Eliza pressed.
"Approximately three years, Your Grace," Trisha replied.
"And why this occupation?" Eliza continued, noting the deepening sorrow in Trisha's eyes.
"I have five siblings dependent on me. Without this, we would perish. Three years past, I lost my position at the Imperial palace after serving the late Empress. Desperate, I sought employment here," Trisha explained.
"I understand," Eliza said in her true voice, having confirmed Trisha's identity as the trusted handmaiden of Empress Kristen.
"You are...!" Trisha gasped upon recognizing her voice.
"Yes. I am not a man. I am here on a mission," Eliza affirmed.
"Your Majesty, the Empress!" Trisha exclaimed, dropping to her knees.
"No..." Eliza began to protest, then reconsidered. This presented an opportune moment.
"I will explain later," she resolved.
"Trisha, can you assist me?" she asked, removing her wig gracefully.
"Without hesitation, Your Majesty," Trisha replied.
"Do you know anyone here with ash-blonde hair?" Eliza inquired, slipping her thirty silver reals.
Trisha was taken aback by the gesture. The Empress she knew abhorred deceit and corruption. Yet, the woman before her resembled the Empress, though her actions diverged.
"Fear not. It is a token of gratitude for the past three years that I failed to protect you and your siblings," Eliza reassured, offering a genuine smile.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," Trisha murmured gratefully, accepting the coins.
"Thank heavens I remembered to emulate the pure-hearted Empress Kristen from the novel... she almost saw through me," Eliza mused silently, heaving a sigh of relief.
"The person you seek has been sold, Your Majesty. Her name is Leila," Trisha disclosed.
"Sold?! By whom?" Eliza curiously asked.
"I do not know. But it was a Baron," Trisha replied.
"A Baron?" Eliza's interest piqued.
"Yes, Your Majesty. His personal butler conducted the transaction. Curiously, he bore the same hair color as Leila. The Baron awaits her at their former rendezvous," Trisha elaborated.
"When did this occur?" Eliza pressed.
"Exactly two days prior, Your Majesty," Trisha said, igniting a spark of determination in Eliza's eyes.
"Trisha, please help me," Eliza commanded, but Trisha demurred.
"I cannot abandon my pledge to the Baron," Trisha confessed, her smile belying her sadness and guilt.
"What?" Eliza recoiled in disbelief. Before she could comprehend, four armed men burst into the room, their rifles pointed at her.
"Fire!" the leader ordered, but Eliza swiftly deployed a smoke grenade, shrouding the chamber in thick haze. When the smoke cleared, Eliza had vanished.
"Find her!" Trisha commanded, prompting the men to scour the room.
One hour before Eliza's self-imposed deadline, she remained elusive, as if swallowed by the billowing mist. Gareth, unable to locate her, hastened to report the incident to the Imperial Magistrate.
"Assemble our forces. We must find her," Vincent commanded.
"Yes, Your Highness," Gareth replied.