With these thoughts, she rolled over on her side and rang the bell for Gabriel. Her manservant for years, he was probably her best friend. True he didn't know of her secret life, but only because she did not wish to endanger him, or herself. She believed the less a person knew, the better. And he hadn't asked questions. Even when she had suddenly announced that they were moving to America, he had simply begun packing. Neither had any family left, and it was not the first time they had moved on short notice.
When he arrived, she asked him to draw a bath, and bring up her usual breakfast, a mushroom omelette, with toast and blackberry jam. He nodded, then opened the drapes, for the sole purpose of annoying her, it seemed; she hated to see the sun before she was fully awake.
As she soaked in the bath she thought more about the previous night's encounter. She had told few where she was going, only those she knew she could trust, so that they could contact her if the Polizia guessed where she was. Nobody had mentioned anything about a man dressed like a bat. Especially not a bat with the most piercing eyes she had ever seen. She thought it was those eyes that had provoked her reaction. Well, to be honest, both responses, the fear and the attraction. They were the eyes of a hero.
***
When her bath and breakfast her done, she settled into the days affairs. After checking on the sapphires, she went to the study and called in Gabriel. While Gabriel had no family, he did have many friends, in many places. One of these friends had given him a few names of people in Gotham that she must know if she were to become part of the social elite. This was of course what she needed. No one was less suspect that an upper-class lady. Preferably a lady who was adored by her peers.
Gabriel had also received the names of some of these people's servants, and once introductions were made, and there was some chatter about mutual friends, it was arranged to have her name put on a few guest lists for upcoming social and charity events.
Her name. That had been an interesting choice. When she was born, her parents had called her Lucia, "light", in the hopes that she would be a beautiful and happy child. Alas, this had not been so. She was beautiful, there was not doubt of that, but she had a morose nature uncharacteristic of their family. She often spent hours staring into space, with a look of absolute sorrow on her face. Her parents had tried to introduce hobbies and activities, in the hopes of cheering her. However most of these attempts failed miserably. She could not sing, and they couldn't afford a musical instrument. When she was allowed use of the church piano, she plunked only minor keys, and did not succeed in making any melody. When they tried painting, all her creations were dark, and seemed to hold some hidden menace. Eventually they gave up.
Then one day, her father had been repairing a wagon for a neighbour and Lucia had wandered in. She was fascinated by the work, and asked many questions. Her father was delighted by the interest, as he had no sons to follow him, and answered them all. From that time on Lucia was happy as long as she had something mechanical to toy with. So she had learned how to manipulate man-made things.
But returning to her name. Lucia could not come to America with the same name she had used in Italy, everything must be left in the past. She decided on Adria Notte. It was fitting enough. Adria meant "dark one" and Notte for her love of the night. It also held a mysterious quality that would entice people, and have them liking her before they even spoke to her. It was symbolic of what she would become in this new life.