Chapter 12: Into Mitras
Mercedes had knocked herself to sleep with alcohol the previous evening, though it wasn't exactly permitted. It'd been just enough to get her six hours with no dreams. When she'd woken, earlier than everyone else, the sun was barely turning the sky lavender. Above her, Baena continued to snore. Their patrol the night before had been a strain following Baena's attempts to quiz her about Hanji, about Jean, about what was wrong, about what she was going to do with her day off and why – when she'd let slip she had to take a trip to Wall Sina – Baena couldn't come with her even though Ehrmich was her hometown. Mercedes had snapped at her a few times until it had worn down even her cheer; now she felt guilty. After all, for all she knew this could be the last time she saw her.
Mercedes dragged herself out of bed and with a bizarre sort of reverence, made her bed and took what she would need for her shower into her arms. May as well be clean, she mused. She remembered her grandmother often teasing her as a little girl for wanting a bath first thing in the morning only to go outside half an hour later and get covered from head to foot in dirt.
The shared showers were located in an annex not far from the main dorms; two rows of five stalls in a cramped, badly-tiled room whose walls didn't offer much insulation from the cold in the winter. The water pressure, however, was decent and the temperature adequate – the plumbing in general was good for Trost. Mercedes was glad that hardly anyone else would be down there at this hour and when she entered, this pattern was confirmed.
Mercedes sighed a little to herself and picked a stall on the opposite row, far into the corner so she could pretend she had some privacy. She slung her towel and clean clothes over the stall door and closed it behind her.
If this turns out to be my last scrub, shame it's not a bath, Mercedes thought. She hankered for the deep soaking tub at her grandmother's, with its window overlooking the field and the peace it held for her. Nonetheless she went through the motions, trying not to think about her dark errand for the day. It was surreal doing something as everyday as taking a shower and washing her hair when in an hour, maybe less, she'd be heading for the capital and by this afternoon, potentially fleeing for her life. Her stomach churned. Focus. You have to focus, she told herself. You can do this. Stop being so morbid.
As she washed the soap out of her hair, she heard someone else come into the room. With the height of the stalls, she couldn't see who it was. The paranoia that'd lately risen in her made her tense and hurry to get the soap out of her eyes. She moved closer to the wall and faced the stall door.
Oh for crying out loud, Mercedes thought when the individual entered the stall right beside hers. You have nine other stalls to choose from! What the fuck!
Clean clothes she didn't recognize were slung along with a towel over the other stall door and she heard the individual begin to disrobe. A white button-up along with uniform trousers were also slung over the door. Shortly, the shower was turned on. Mercedes craned her neck and judging by the calves and feet, pinpointed that her neighbor was another woman, likely petite.
Rico, Mercedes realized.
"That you, rookie?" Rico asked. Her voice was very near the stall divider and Mercedes moved closer in kind.
"Yes," Mercedes replied. She turned her shower off and grabbed her towel.
"Figured as much." There was a pause. "You have a couple of hours," she said lowly. "I've been advised that you should head for the library, and look like a scholar. No gear."
Though this made her brow furrow, Mercedes said, "Understood."
"There's also a letter I was asked to pass on to you. It's in my pocket."
Mercedes felt her skin prickle and tried to rub it away as she dried herself. She dressed, though in light of this new information she realized she'd have to change again once she got back to her room. Her towel was slung around her shoulders to catch the drips from her hair.
Mercedes unlocked her stall and scooped up the T-shirt and shorts that constituted her pajamas. At the noise Rico said, "Good luck." She heard her finally move under the water of her own shower.
"Thank you."
As she left Mercedes quickly dipped a hand into each of Rico's trouser pockets and procured a small, single-sheet trifold that had been folded again into a square. She immediately shoved it into her own pocket without looking at it and left the showers. Along the way she passed her and Baena's other two roommates and gave them a casual good morning as if nothing was wrong.
Back at their room, Mercedes was grateful to see that Baena was still sleeping. She felt the need to make amends before she left. She hung her towel to dry on the row of hooks by the door and then hunted through the few items of casual clothing she had stowed away in her and Baena's shared pull-out drawer under their bunk. Baena's casual clothes – only a small portion of which she actually wore – took up about three-quarters of the space and were much more well-made and in finer fabrics than her own. Though she'd never admit it, Baena frequently tried to play down that she was a Sina native and as a result, usually stuck to her shabbier clothes in order to fit in.
"Whatcha doin', early birdie?" came Baena's sleepy voice. Mercedes looked up and saw her propping her chin on her hand on the bunk rail, eyes still half-closed and a gentle smile on her face. The strengthening morning light made her pale skin warm. It amazed and humbled her that Baena could forgive so easily.
The perfect way to make amends with Baena suddenly occurred to Mercedes. "Actually," she began, pretending to look shyly away, "I could use your help. I need to, um, look nice today. I know you've wanted to do different stuff with my hair…"
Baena's face brightened, "You'll let me play with it?"
Mercedes shrugged and nodded with a smirk.
"Do you have a date? Oh my god you have a date," Baena said as she scrambled out of bed and down the ladder at the end of the bunk. "That's why you didn't want me to come with you! Sneaky!"
It wasn't true in the slightest but Mercedes didn't contradict her. "You found me out," she shrugged again, raising her arms and letting them fall to her sides.
"I bet I know who it is," Baena said in a singsong voice. She swept around Mercedes and pulled out the one stool in the room that they'd shoved in the corner; it was dragged into the middle of the room between the bunks and she commanded Mercedes to sit, which she did. Baena immediately began fussing with a towel and a comb. "Oh! And you can borrow some of my clothes!"
"I don't think they'll fit…" Mercedes began.
"We'll figure something out."
Not long later Mercedes left Baena with promises to tell her all about her 'romantic tryst' when she got back. She headed for the stables, tugging on the unfamiliar dress Baena had procured from the depths of the drawer for her to wear. Baena had substituted Mercedes' usual riding boots for a pair of simple brown flats – luckily they wore the same shoe size if nothing else – and proclaimed it perfect. The only reason the violet dress fit was by virtue of it wrapping around her middle and securing with a tie. Frustrated by its lack of pockets, she had slid the piece of paper Rico had obtained for her up one of the three-quarter-length sleeves.
It was surreal. Compliments and lingering glances were given to her as she made her way out of the barracks. She felt like a different person when she caught her reflection in a window – Baena had parted her hair in such a way that even her undercut was hidden, and pinned it completely up against the back of her head – and it was at direct contrast with what she may have to do. The visual lie and her lack of gear or weapon unsettled her, but she had to accept its necessity. She wrapped her dark green shawl, the one Julia had given her, more tightly around her and tried to smile. Her bangle dug into her ribs.
Once she has saddled Sabine, she checked to make sure no one was around and pulled the piece of paper from her sleeve, unfolding it. She was surprised it wasn't sealed. Instead, at the top was scribbled a brief note – 'Show this at gate' – in handwriting she didn't recognize. There was then a typed sentence followed by an embossed seal.
"'Specialist Research Department. Access to Exhibit Seven and Article 20A, unguided – one hour.'" she read. She peered at the seal and determined it to be a laurel wreath surrounding a shield with a simple, equal-armed cross in the center. "The Commander-in-Chief's seal," she said, and rapidly re-folded the note and stuffed it back up her sleeve. Why the fuck would the Commander-in-Chief of the entire fucking military want me to go to a library department if he's really endorsing my potential assassination of the King? And unarmed?
Mercedes reasoned that she didn't have much choice. She had forty-five minutes before the trial began and any opportunity for her to help the Commanders and her friends would rapidly diminish. If she was to find clarity, this was her chance.
As she pulled herself into the saddle, she decided to have faith. After all, maybe there was something about – or in – the library that would prove useful. And if there wasn't, she would damn well figure something else out.
When Wall Sina was in sight, Mercedes diverted Sabine off the main road and switched to riding side-saddle for effect. Despite the nerves in her stomach, she tried to re-mould her face into one of innocence. She passed through the gate and once on the other side, she drew Sabine to a stop next to one of the Military Police attendants.
"Excuse me," she said sweetly. The older man's frown vanished. "I was asked to show you this." She procured the note and leaned over for him to take it.
Confused, he opened it. Mercedes wasn't sure exactly what it was supposed to mean to him, and hoped she didn't have to do any explaining. She watched him rub his thumb over the seal.
"Ah, right. We've been expecting you," he said. Mercedes hid her surprise behind a smile and a delighted laugh she'd heard Baena do. "We're told you need the library." He stepped up beside Sabine and began to point ahead. "If you go straight, you'll want to head for the palace but make a left at the jeweler's. The road will curve a little past a park, and you'll see the library straight in front of you. Can't miss it." He handed her note back.
"Thank you," she gave a gracious, wider smile. "That's very kind." She had no idea what role she was meant to be playing but this seemed as good as any.
"No problem, ma'am."
She moved on, following the main road.
It was all very strange. They'd been expecting her? They gave her directions to the fucking library? They didn't think it odd that she – effectively looking like a civilian – had a random note stating nothing in particular with the Commander-in-Chief's seal?
The squared-off facade of the palace, with its squat, rounded towers on each corner, loomed ahead. She had been inside Mitras a couple of times since she'd transferred back from the Survey Corps and started shadowing Rico, but not for very long and only on official business. Everything was very clean on first glance, the buildings regimental and uniform in appearance, shops sold luxuries rather than essentials, windows had boxes of flowers hanging in front of them. She wondered why Baena would have ever wanted to leave.
As she passed through the street and searched for the jeweler's, however, she noticed that there were several Military Police soldiers on patrol – more than seemed reasonable. There were also workers cleaning and repairing various spots on roofs and high walls, and there were a few smashed barrels and handcarts swept to one side. Broken glass was in the gutter and there were bullet holes everywhere.
What happened here? she wondered. She began to listen as best she could.
"They nearly ran over my Timothy!"
"…believe they'd reach this far…"
"George and I saw the Police chasing seven of them!"
"…telling you, maneuvering gear but with guns as well!"
"…Captain Levi…"
"…don't know where they went…"
"…Smith on trial in less than an hour. That'll be it once and for all."
Mercedes frowned. If Captain Levi had been here, so had the Squad. But why? Hanji had mentioned that Eren and Historia had actually been kidnapped – had they been brought here and Jean and the others tracked them? And what was this talk of maneuvering gear with guns? That shouldn't have been possible. But no one was saying anything about any Survey Corps members having been killed, at least.
She saw the sign for Hoffmann's Jewelers above its red-painted door, and turned left at the corner on which it stood and into the shadow of the buildings. Conscious of the time, she snapped Sabine's reins to speed them into a steady trot. As the road curved just as promised, a park appeared on her right that was about the size of her grandmother's yard, complete with fountain and meandering path and garden beds. It was a beautiful waste, in her opinion. As she moved past the ornamental trees that were flushing with spring, she was greeted by the warm stone steps and five-story façade of the library. As she looked the building over, it became apparent to her that this wasn't a complete ruse after all.
Separated only by a small moat, the eastern wing of the library faced the palace – and exactly where she knew the throne room to be.
