Voir-Dire

2 : Plainte

The work of the day having been done, Gilles pondered between picking up Guignol and wandering about Lumiose. The reminder of Arsène's heartfelt pseudo-threats, though, made him walk down to the Coiffure Clips. Gilles found himself in front of a blonde stylist giving him an assessing look.

"Bienvenue à Détente et Beauté, Monsieur. Que puis-je faire pour vous aujourd'hui?"

"Une coupe mi-longs bouclés, pas besoin de coloration." Gilles then switched to Standard. "And there's no need for a performance."

"Bien sûr, monsieur." The stylist smirked as she led him to a barber's chair and had Sybil sit next to him.

"This is Sybil, she'll just be watching. If you don't mind."

"It is alright, if you don't mind our trainee stylist doing your hair," the stylist replied in Standard.

"D'accord."

"Très bien, monsieur. S'il vous plaît." She walked to the back, leaving Gilles to peruse a selection of books and novels. A well-worn copy of Du côté de chez Swanna floated down from the shelf and was being thumbed through before Gilles was aware of Sybil's psychic ping and the scrap-scrap of blades being sharpened out of sight.

"Ah, yes," the stylist commented dryly as she returned to the main store and saw Gilles sitting very straight in his chair. "Tout son corps est fait de lames pour le rasage, le Scalpion."

I am Dunsany, monsieur, and I will be your stylist today. Try not to move too much.

Gilles relaxed. "Oh, you're… the trainee. Thanks."

The Pawniard with the developed communication abilities preparing to shave him nodded. You're… quite welcome. Do you want a shave as well?

"If you can."

Gilles remained still, not even flipping pages… at least, until boredom got him. "Do you have Les Motifs des Prismillons here?"

Hmm?

"It's a photo album of Vivillon patterns," Gilles explained. "I'm investigating a case involving the author of that book."

Steel clashing against a tiled floor resounded, and Gilles was very aware that a small stepladder was now being pulled up to behind him. I see. Is this anything to do with Capo's minions agitating about this morning?

"Capo?" Gilles echoed.

The Honchkrow Boss. His minions are the Murkrow.

"The idea of a Pokémon crime cartel right outside Lumiose is creepy," Gilles rebutted with a shudder. "But I thought Honchkrow couldn't exist naturally. They need a Dusk Stone to evolve, right?"

From what I understand, Capo had an agreement with a working Lucario and his Trainer in the Lavarre Nature Trail. In exchange for his becoming the Honchkrow Boss, the Trainer gets protection.

That's actually quite smart, Sybil added. Of course, that depends on no other Murkrow picking up on such a method. Or on the Honchkrow not removing her from the equation.

"No, the Trainer is Marguerite Linden du Bois," Gilles dryly replied. "If Professor Moriarty existed he would be the only anthro-Pokémon sociology professor in Kalos, and female."

Such a personality might be straddling the law, Sybil noted. Perhaps Martin saw something of the doctor's, and he was caught.

Gilles focused his thoughts, aware that only Sybil − and perhaps Dunsany − would be able to hear him: The Klefki was holding Light Clay, which implies that it has both Light Screen and Reflect, both of which are Technical Machine moves. Plus, when was the last time you heard of a Klefki assault not involving stolen keys? Martin's keys are all accounted for.

Sybil nodded in silent acknowledgement. There is that.

"I'm not a detective," Gilles spoke out loud, quietly as Dunsany began work on shaving the nape of his neck. "Our job is to prove that the Light Clay has nothing to do with Mademoiselle Morelle or Dr du Bois, and to advocate for Mademoiselle Morelle."

And done, Dunsany finished with a swipe of his bladed hand, holding up a mirror delicately to show Gilles the reflection of his completed haircut, perhaps also ironically signalling the end of Gilles' list of responsibilities. Now, let us discuss the fee.

Sauntering across the quadrangle of the Université Illumis-Septentrionale campus were two figures. One, a Darkrai, was carrying books that fit between his claws and the ridge of his neck. The other, a human woman with short dark hair, was carrying another stack of papers. Students and staff alike scattered before them, and more than one student prepared to take out a Holo Caster until a green-eyed glare from the woman made them reconsider.

Until someone stopped them. "Marguerite Linden du Bois?"

The dark-haired Trainer of the Darkrai stopped walking. Beside her hovered the Sinnoan legend. "Do you need something?"

"I am Melisse Mélèze," the dark-skinned girl with white-blonde hair replied, blank whitened eyes focused on the professor. Both women ignored the various whistles and appreciative looks of several students about, who were mainly ogling Melisse's scarlet dress, which was sheer enough to possibly qualify as public indecency, hidden only by a sheer white scarf. "Lady Adeline de Mandragora sent me."

"Come along, then." Marguerite started walking, and Melisse followed behind her. "If this is about Léa, I've hired a lawyer for her. She will not be accused, even without pulling out her title. The Duchess Mandragora need not trouble herself with a distant relation."

"Théo Martin is insignificant in the current scheme of things," Melisse dismissed as she followed Marguerite into an office, which was locked by Darkrai. "As you might understand, Lady Adeline is one of many who wish to restore the Jardin Throne."

"That's not exactly a popular move," Marguerite noted.

"Popularity, madame, is not important. Power is." Melisse smiled. The temperature seemed to drop as her pink lips stretched her face. "Power must be concentrated in the right hands in order for Kalos to recover from its current chaos."

"That is an interesting perspective which I do not quite share." Marguerite set down her papers on her desk. "Do you have any other concerns, Madame Mélèze?"

"In fact, yes." White eyes never left Marguerite. "We believe that a Fairy Tale Girl is behind the murder of Théo Martin."

Marguerite looked at her once more, now fully focused. "...who are you?"

"I represent the Maison de Millepertuis, in alliance with the Duchess Mandragora." Melisse evenly replied. "We are looking for the chosen one crowned by Yveltal."

Marguerite was expressionless. "You are looking for the Champion?"

"Daisy Linden was lost after Team Flare's last stand," Melisse nodded. "As Jeanne d'Arc was blessed by Xerneas to enrich Kalos, Daisy Linden must have received some gift upon meeting the Legends of Kalos once more. Even meeting the legends might cause some great change that would shake the world."

"But that does not pertain to everyday life," Marguerite observed. "Or to Théo Martin."

Melisse gave an ingratiating smile. "Maîtresse Linden, or du Bois, you cannot hide from your grandmother the Duchess. Nor can you hide very long from the Raiponce, or the Millepertuis, without consequence. The Raiponce know where you are, and they were surveying you. Martin was... an unfortunate casualty."

"And you know this," said Marguerite, "because you were there as well."

"The rain is good for my skin," Melisse agreed. "Whatever the Sûreté might think, the peerage of Kalos is still rather murky, especially from the Raiponce."

"You expect me to believe that the Fairy Tale Girls are after me?" Marguerite demanded.

"Their surveillance has been discovered," Melisse reasoned. "Lieutenant Souci is a little man, but the Captain he serves, Ancolie, will inform them soon. Then they will come for you, madame. Your only recourse is to join the Duchess, who only wishes for your safety."

"The same Duchess whose idea of safety involves empowering the defunct Garden Throne."

Melisse clicked her tongue. "Madame, you are Daisy Linden, who changed her name and escaped the public eye. You are the heiress of the Three Grand Ducal Houses of Kalos. With Fleur-de-lis dead and Madame Carnet as Champion and thus ineligible, you are the most eligible candidate to become queen. Champions and Gym Leaders come and go, but the Cent-Feuilles is eternal."

"I have no interest in subverting the government, madame."

"You stand fast?"

"Yes."

Melisse smiled. "You will change your mind. I am sure of it."

Marguerite waited until the door clicked shut before moving for her Holo Caster, typing the ten-digit number quickly.

"Monsieur Moreau, I need to talk to you."

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