Deviating from the original plot

Chapter seventy-five

Evelyn drew the leather-bound book from her bag and set it firmly upon the counter. Her voice was sharp. "This. Why did you give it to me?"

The shopkeeper's hand hovered above the cover but never touched it. She leaned closer, her tone dropping into a hush. "Because, my lady, I was only nudging fate into motion."

Evelyn's brows knitted. "But you could have given it to Lady Victoria instead. She's the one with the mission."

A knowing smile touched the woman's lips. "And now it is yours as well, by association. If you already walk beside her, do you not share in her path? Besides..." she gave a small shrug, "Victoria is cautious—too cautious to be approached suddenly, and she doesn't wander into bookshops like you do, Lady Evelyn—you were the path the book chose."

"So you did this deliberately." Evelyn's eyes narrowed. "What is this book for?"

The shopkeeper's gaze flicked once more to the tome before lifting back to Evelyn. "It is a mirror. A guide. A key. It points toward what you must face and how it may be undone. I've played my role—I placed it in your hands... and I awakened her."

Evelyn and Celeste exchanged wary glances.

"If you have more questions, you may seek me out again," the woman said smoothly, a playful curl to her lips. "Or would you rather have your fortunes read now?"

"Not really," the two shook their heads.

"Then be gone." The bookkeeper waved them off. "I wouldn't want to spook my customers with such serious faces. Good luck!"

Evelyn and Celeste stepped out, the bell chiming behind them.

"I guess it didn't give us any concrete leads," Celeste remarked, "but at least we got some answers."

"Let's keep moving," Evelyn said, climbing into the carriage as it rattled toward their next destination.

✦ ✦

"This is the building," Evelyn announced, gesturing toward the quiet, abandoned structure at the end of the street.

She pushed the door open with little effort, the hinges groaning in protest.

"I came here with Freya last time—I broke the lock," Evelyn explained, stepping inside. Celeste followed, nodding.

"How did you two even end up here again?" Celeste asked.

"Chasing a cat," Evelyn admitted with a sheepish laugh. "Freya runs a little agency—takes on all sorts of odd jobs. Apparently, finding lost pets counts."

"That explains why she seems to have contacts in the strangest places," Celeste said as they stepped into the dusty and dim interior.

The air was heavy and stale, shadows pressing in. Evelyn reached into her pouch and pulled out a small lamp, striking it alight.

"How did you even have that on you?"

"I've been here before," Evelyn said, her tone casual. "I like to be prepared."

"Oh, speaking of last time..." Celeste trailed after her, voice careful. "You said you came here with Freya. Just the two of you. Looking for that cat."

"Her name was Buttermilk," Evelyn said softly. "I'd never gone searching for an animal before, but Freya was so skilled at it, I just tagged along."

"You and Freya... seem really close," Celeste said, tilting her head.

"Not really," Evelyn answered quickly.

"What do you mean? You know all about her work, you've gone on jobs with her, you bicker like children, and she talks to you more than anyone else. Is there something we don't know?" Celeste pressed.