Honkai Impact 3rd: Don't Die For Me/ Book 3 Paradise

Chapter 52 The Kaslana's Justice

<Fienre Mansion>

The sullen faces of domineering Valkyries were things Joy didn't want to see. Yes, she knew she'd been caught. Shakespeare, the little read-headed playwright, was shuffled between Valkyries Joy could barely recognize. The Valkyrie with snow-white hair, sky-blue eyes, and an unimpressive height for a Kaslana must be Kallen, the Holy Maiden. The Valkyrie with the Scharaic Acquirial in her hair must be Eleanor Schariac, the horns protruding unevenly from side to side confirmed this. Now was the last Valkyrie, shorter than Kallen by a fourth of a head, petite with childish features, she must've been a nobody. If she was here, it meant that she had an area of expertise that Kallen and Eleanor didn't excel in. Interrogation was probably one of them Joy thought glumly. She swallowed her fire and invited them in.

Her room was as orderly as it could've been. The smell of ink and aged parchment overpowered the scents of fresh linen and polished oak. It was smaller than one would imagine, with only enough space for a wardrobe, a jack's bed, and two desks. Those two desks shook and swayed under the weight of a neatly stacked, mountain of parchment. The edges were curled from ink stains and upon closer inspection, the stacks of paper on Joy's desk were the shortest in the room. What had been mistaken for walls and decor were stacks and stacks of reports and papers. If one peered through the cracks of the wall of parchment, one could see a row of cabinets bursting with paper. It was a system, Joy knew where everything was and to be frank she was caught just in time before the day she'd order her servants to help clean the room. If one looked even closer, they would find a path beside the bed that led to a washroom. From there, she could access the cabinets from behind the wall of parchment.

"If one were a weasel, one would be content. If one is a writer, one shall be proper." Shakespeare mumbled. "You're an awful host."

"I shall. I shall! Every lead you wished for is here! Dead ends and all. I have my duties, I read, read, and read! I disprove! I edit! I... Excuse my manners. I'll receive you in another room."

Joy showed an awkward smile. Shakespeare sucked on the papercuts that infested her fingers. She'd bite into them, bleed them so that they'd heal. It was a most unsavory prospect but it was better than the stinging sensation of whipped wind that erupted whenever she moved her hands. Speaking of her hands, they tasted awful, of quills and ink.

"What newspaper do you write for?"

The question was posed by Marth. Joy stifled her steps but she led them to a guest room. It was the noble standard guest room. Two couches sat across from each other, a tea table in between, cabinets for tea sets, and a bell by the door and couches. Joy rang the one by the door.

"Tea! We have guests."

Servants shuffled in the distance, maids, butlers. Marth still eyed Joy curiously. It was obvious Joy was a news writer, the state of her room screamed such truths. What was important was the scale of her work, what was her purpose? She was a Valkyrie, the Fienre family had two who were registered in the field. This is why it was strange that she was so immersed in writing, her duties lay elsewhere.

"For your question. I work for the Teacup, the Cafe Sprites, the Paris Times, and everything else."

Marth pondered Joy's answer as they sat down beside Eleanor. Kallen sat on Eleanor's other side and Shakespeare sat by Joy on the other couch. Marth fished for more clues but nothing stood out. Joy's work situation could be researched later. She was the source of the information from the anonymous tip. Perhaps she was a broker.

"Where did you-"

A knock from the door interrupted Marth's line of questioning. The tea was ready and it now sat on the table between them. Five sets of cups were left untouched.