The Queen of Cups

The Girls Are Fighting Pt. 2

You were bound to get into trouble.

Sure, you're no Polnareff, but you attract enemies as well as the rest.

But you're mature, you could handle it.

Right?

Maybe it was a mistake leaving you by yourself.

Such thoughts impressed on Jotaro ever since he slammed the door in your face.

Laying in bed, arms under his head, he debated on whether or not to join you.

Was the town creepy and suspicious to no end?

Yes.

Were you, his friend, aware of this?

Obviously.

So there was no objection knowing that you would be cautious. The real question is:

Where's Polnareff?

Thinking about the situation long and hard, he decided.

To hell with it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We meet in person, at long last. But…aren't you supposed to be a bit more—”

“Older?”

“Yeah…”

“It's a part of my Stand, Justice.” Enya took another sip of whiskey. “Now tell me, how'd you figure it out, miss detective?”

“Three things. 1, I've been suspicious since the very beginning. 2, you've been covering your left hand ever since you've shown yourself. And 3, you called me Jaqueline, and none of the men here called me that.”

“Ah, sharp as always.”

You bit your lip, hesitant.
“I never thought you'd ever come to get me yourself.”

“Me either,” Enya said, “but what can I do? Not only did the Stand Users I've sent fail, but two of them also turned traitor! Not only that, my son! My flesh and blood! Dead! Murdered! Skewered! He never deserved to die!”

Her fist pounded the table, tears rolling down her cheeks in hot anger, grieving over the loss of her beloved son. You couldn't help but try to pity her, but that last line made it difficult to do so.

“He…didn't deserve to die?”

“Of course he didn't! My sweet, pure noble son, a good servant of Lord Dio, did nothing to deserve this!”

A sharp pain struck your heart, wrenching uncomfortably in your chest.

Is this how she sees her son?

Did she not know the truth?

Or is she denying it?

Is this what motherly love can do? Blind you from the wrongdoings of your child?

“Enya.” you breathed in. “Why exactly do you think he died? Why do you think Polnareff took the time to find him?”

“What are you talking abo—”

“The same reason you're out to kill Polnareff for. Revenge. HE lost his flesh and blood. His sister, defiled and murdered at the hands of a sick, disgusting man! It's painfully ironic, don't you think? ”

Enya slammed the whiskey glass as she slowly stood up.

“Watch. Your. Mouth.”

“Open. Your. Eyes.”