"We must tell Mrs. Beazley immediately!" Dawson exclaimed.
"From what I can tell, they are in complete denial." he shook his head. "The only way to make them understand, is to find the girl. And thanks to this," he raised the piece of fabric. "we have a lead."
"Do we, now?" he looked closer at it.
"This type of cotton fabric can only be found in Scotland. And there is only one craftman in London who imports his material from his homeland. Come along, dear fellows!" he rushed out of the room, the other following behind him. "There's not a moment to lose!" he rushed past the living room, but then stopped and leaned back to look at Mrs. Beazley. "Ma'am, your daughter is as good as found!"
"Oh thank goodness!" she exhaled with a hand over her heart. "Thank you, Mr. Basil, Miss Redfield."
Emilia glanced at Dawson, feeling bad for him.
The trio hitched a ride on a human carriage. Basil took them to a toy shop, owned by a man named Flaversham, who greeted Basil and Dawson like they were brothers.
"Bless your hearts, friends. What brings you here?" he asked, then noticed the lady who was with them. "Ah, pardon me, Miss. What-" he gasped. "Isn't that...?"
"Uncle Basil!"
Next thing they knew, a child jumped into the detective's arms, wrapping her arms around his neck.
'Uncle?!' Emilia thought, surprised.
Basil noticed her stare.
"I am not her uncle." he clarified. "It's a long story." he held the child at arms length. "Good to see you too, Miss Flamhammer."
"Flaversham!" she giggled.
"Whatever." he put her down. "Miss Redfield, this is Hiram Flaversham, and his daughter Olivia. Olivia, I'd like you to meet-"
The child let out a piercing squeal that startled everyone, except Emilia, who was used to these reactions.
"It's you!" she rushed up to her. "You're even more pretty than in the papers!"
"Hello." she crouched to be at eye level and shook her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Olivia."
"You have an accent, like me! But different!"
"I'm French."
"From France?!"
She nodded, smiling.
"Oh it must be beautiful there!" she joined her hands, with stars in her eyes. "Are you from Paris?!"
"Tatatatah, my dear." Basil pulled her away from her. "Miss Redfield is assisting us on an important case. Which brings me to the reason we are here, Hiram." he looked at the toymaker.
He then told him about the kidnapping case, which might not be a kidnapping after all.
"Wendy... Yes I know her." Hiram nodded, his expression more serious. "She comes in every week to buy fabrics and materials. She makes dolls, it's her passion, you see. Ow," he shook his head. "to think she'd run away..."
"When was the last time she came into your shop, friend?" Basil asked.
"Just last week, actually."
The detective began to giggle, smirking while rubbing his hands together.
"Dawson, Redfield, hide!"
"What?!" "Quoi?!" they both said at the same time.
"Quickly now." he pushed them to a door leading to the back of the shop. "The child could arrive here any minute now."
Olivia giggled as she watched.
"How do you know she'll even come here?" Hiram asked.
"You said it yourself: it's her passion. There is a big difference between that and a hobby."
"It's the second time we hide..." Emilia told Dawson. "You do this often?"
"Not often, I assure you." he waved a hand. "You should be glad, our work can be very dangerous."
"Like when you fought Ratigan and saved the Queen!" Olivia said as she joined them into the backroom.
"Sssh!" Basil sharply said, not looking away from the shop area.
"Ratigan? Saved the Queen?!" Emilia looked at him with big eyes.
"Oh he was wonderful!" Olivia joined her hands. "It all happened when my daddy was kidnapped."
The child then told her about Basil's final confrontation with his nemesis Ratigan, how he and the doctor met for the first time, Ratigan's plan to kill the Queen and rule over Mousedom. And that Emilia could think about was how the English Mouse Empire almost came to an end and she wasn't even aware of it.
"Enough talking!" Basil blindly pressed his hand on Olivia's face to shut her up. "She's here."
"Wendy, welcome!" Hiram beamed as the young girl walked in. "Just in time as always."
"Hello, Mr. Flaversham..." she slowly spoke, on her guards. "Have you...read the papers?"
"Oh I, I don't really keep up with the news these days," he shook his head. "I'm far too busy. Why? Is there some concerning news?"
"N-No! Not at all." she shook her head. "Just that... Emilia Redfield's got the main role in Giselle."
Once again, Emilia was caught by surprise upon hearing her own name. Wendy made her usual refill of fabric and threads and then left.
"Let's follow her." Basil said as he came out of their hiding spot. "Swiftly."
"Take me with you!" Olivia exclaimed, making Basil flinch.
"Oh no. No no no, not this time." he sternly said, facing her. "You stay home with your father."
"But..." she looked at Emilia.
"We'll see each-other again." she patted her head with a smile.
Olivia's face lit up. She and Hiram said goodbye to the trio as they left. Following a mouse who was also hiding was quite tricky, but they managed to keep up with her.
The sun was starting to sun by now, and our trio ended up at the edges of the city. In the backyard of an old human home, Wendy went into a disregarded flower pot that was turned upside down. It seemed to have been turned into a small house – just like every mouse construction these days – with a door and windows. Soon after Wendy walked in, light could be seen through the windows.
"Now what, Basil?" Dawson asked.
"Now, we just go pay a visit to our friend." he smiled and walked up to the flower pot.
Emilia and Dawson shared a look before they caught up to him. Basil knocked on the door. There was no answer and the light went out.
"'Scuse me!" he knocked again, putting on an old man voice. "What're ya doin' in my house?!"
"No! It's mine!" the door opened. "It was abandoned, it's-"
"Hello there." Basil tilted his cap. "Wendy Beazley, I presume?"
The girl tried to close the door but Basil caught a hold of it and pushed it open.
"Very rude to deny guests when they've traveled so far, you know?" he smiled with a raised eyebrow. "Come in, you two."
As they made their way in, Wendy stepped back.
"Pardon the intrusion, Miss, but we simply must speak." he spoke again after closing the door behind them. "No doubt you know who I am."
"I do, yeah. All three of you." she glared. "I'm not going back!"
"We-We simply want to understand, child." Dawson raised his hands. "Why did you run away? Your parents are worried to death about you."
"Ha! Yeah right! They only want to find me to save face! They waited three days to look for me!"
"It wasn't their fault, the policemice told them to wait!"
"And they called you just now?!" she pointed at them.
Dawson tried to think of something to say, but couldn't find anything.
"You didn't answer the question." Basil said. "Why run away?"
"None of your business!"
"Do you plan to live the rest of your life, in such a place?" he looked around. "Did you steal money from your parents the night Miss Redfield caught you red-handed?"
"I'm not a thief! I just came back to get the rest of my friends!" she exclaimed and immediately became tense.
"Your friends?" Dawsow raised his eyebrows.
"This colorful bunch?" Basil looked behind her.
It was then that Emilia really took a look around. The place was a mess, with only one room. Glasses were used as flower pots. On the bed was a blanket that was actually multiple pieces of colorful fabric sewed together. In the corner, there was a basin full of water with a washing board for probably her only set of clothes. The shelves were full of crafting materials and tools. And on the table, there were about a dozen ragdolls, each very different from one another.
"You made all these?" Dawson asked with big eyes. "They're lovely!"
"They're the only friends I have." Wendy said. "I got caught finishing Gwendle." she picked up one of the dolls, gently caressing its hair. "And we had a big fight. My dad called them a waste of time. And my mom said they look out of place in my room. My room! I don't even get a say in what goes on in my own bedroom! I told them I hated them, then I locked myself in my room. That night I decided I'd run away. I hate them! Just like they hate me!"
"They don't hate you!" he said with the softest of sterness.
"You're a detective," she gestured towards Basil. "how could you be so blind?! They don't care! They think I'm an embarrassment!" she sniffed, her eyes getting glassy. "They still went to that stupid work event. I bet they had a lot of fun there, since they didn't have to think about me."
"I'll tell you why your father had no choice but to go to that work event." Basil said. "When we talked this morning, he was almost late for work, thinking he still had half-an-hour to spare, so he recently had a change of schedule and has yet to adjust to it. I noticed he had a pin on his lapel, it had the emblem of the Imperial Mouse Bank. There, each rank has their own schedule. If your father starts at 9:30am, that means he is at a very high position. As your mother said: he is at a complex step in his career, and he is the sole provider for the household, which means he has a lot of responsibility and a lot of pressure."
Wendy frowned, not convinced.
"Moreover. Remember, Dawson?" he took out a box of matches and lit up the candles again. "They hired us, not to bring back the child, but to find whoever took her and demand a ransom note. A rather unusual request, if you ask me."
"That's right!" he nodded, then turned to Wendy. "They didn't care about any sort of payment. They were ready to give anything to bring you back safely."
"Stop trying to sell me lies!" she shook her head. "They're always forcing me to go to these stupid classes, not caring about what I wanna do when I grow up!"
"The world we live in is not easy for women, Miss Beazley." Basil said in a graver tone. "And for artists, even less. Your parents simply just want to secure your future. And I agree that it wasn't the best way to go about this." he shrugged. "Your parents sure are a stubborn bunch."
"But like most parents:" Dawson smiled, his eyebrows furrowed. "they don't know how to show their love."
She kept glaring at them.
"One last question, if you'd let me." Basil said. "Why do your parents insist that you've been kidnapped? You running away would be a perfectly plausible explanation, considering your circumstances and the arguments you've had with each-other. Yet, they didn't even mention it. Why is that?" he tilted his head.
"Because... I dunno." she shrugged. "Because it would be embarrassing if other people knew what really happened."
"I've seen it when I talked to them this morning, even before that when I read their telegram. Your parents are in utter denial." he spoke in a softer tone.
"He told me that this morning." Dawson nodded. "I didn't quite understand at first. But later, I saw your parents, the look on their faces, I realized the reason why." he leaned a little closer. "It's because the very thought of you hating them that much is simply breaking their hearts."
Their words seemed to come through to Wendy, even Emilia felt her heart melt a little bit. The girl's expression softened.
"If you truly wish to leave home and start anew, you should at least set the record straight." Basil said in a more light-hearted tone. "To end a conversation on such a sour note won't be good for anyone."
"They'll yell at me." she mumbled, looking down.
"Let yourself be the judge of that."
"...Fine. But you stay with us, as witnesses!"
"We shall be as unbiased as can be." he bowed his head with a hand over his heart.
She smiled.
"Um, detective?" Emilia tapped his shoulder. "Can we talk?"
"Of course, Miss Redfield."
The two of them stepped out and away from the house, while Dawson asked Wendy to introduce her 'friends' to him. By now, it as dark outside.
"Why are we doing this?" Emilia asked. "What if the girl and the parents have an argument again?"
"No need to worry, my dear." he smiled. "I wouldn't have suggested such a thing if I wasn't certain of the outcome."
She tilted her head, her eyebrows furrowed.
"You look confused." he commented.
"Yes. I just... I just don't know what side to choose. The parents are justified but the girl... " she slowly shook her head. "It's no good for her."
Basil raised an eyebrow.
"This situation isn't to be seen as a fight, Miss Redfield." he shook his head. "This is clearly the result of a huge lack of communication. The two parties simply must sit down and listen to each-other."
"I suppose..." her gaze wandered.
A moment passed.
"While we're here, let me ask you something." he smiled. "How do you like this educational escapade so far?"
"It was... It was-"
"Ssssh." he raised a hand, close to her mouth but not touching it.
She frowned and was about to reprimand him – asking her a question and then telling her to shut up – when she noticed he was staring in the distance. She followed his gaze and became tense, holding her breath. In the darkness, two white dots could be seen. Eyes on which the faint candlelight reflected. The eyes of something big, slowly approaching.
"Inside, quick!" Basil grabbed her hand.
The two of them turned around, but the cat jumped and landed between them and the house. Emilia met out a cry of fear.
"Over there!"
Basil pulled her with him towards a thorn bush. Being small mice, it was easy for them to avoid the thorns. The cat tried to reach for them but quickly withdrew with a pained hiss.
"Basil, Miss Redfield?!" Dawson stepped out. "What's the matter-" he gasped when he saw the cat.
The cat's attention was brought to the house. Dawson quickly went back inside, locking the door behind him. The cat scratched at the door with not much success but it easily broke the windows. Unlike with the thorns, once the windows were broken, he could safely reach inside. From outside, they could hear Wendy crying.
"We must do something quick before our friends become feline dinner." Basil said, mostly to himself. "Let's see." he looked around with a look of focus. "There must be another way to enter the house. I just need a moment to-"
A firm grip on his arm stopped him mid-sentence. He looked over and saw a look on Emilia's face he's never seen before.
"Glass and a candle."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Distract him."
"Miss Redfield, what exactly are you-"
"Pas le temps, go!" she pointed at the cat before leaving. "I know a trick." *
Basil huffed, but did as she said, exiting the bush on the opposite side of her. He picked up a pebble and threw it at the cat before whistling.
"Hello, kitty!" he waved his arms. "Why not go for a more filling and within reach? The grey matter in this little head is worth a thousand mice!"
The cat licked its lips and moved towards him. While Basil kept taunting it – getting in places the cat couldn't reach and step out as soon as it began to lose interest – Emilia went into the house.
"W-We can leave now, right?" Wendy asked, still crying.
"We can but..." Dawson looked out the broken window. "Basil is still in big trouble. Um, Miss Redfield?" he turned towards her.
Emilia was looking at the broken pieces of glass, sometimes picking one up before tossing it aside.
"What are you doing?"
Without answering, she picked up the biggest piece she could find and grabbed one of the candles.
"Hold this please, doctor." she handed him the two items.
"Of course." he took them without thinking. "Huh, w-wait just a second!" he panicked when the lady left.
He hurried outside and watched as she climbed on top of the flower pot. She then reached down to him. Being of small stature, Dawson had to give the items to Wendy and then pick her up so she could give the lit candle and the glass shard to Emilia. The mouse looked around and gasped when she saw that Basil was backed into a corner, with nowhere to hide.
"Easy now, kitty." Basil smiled.
Of course, this was all part of his plan. Just one more step and the cat will be at the perfect spot. Basil will just have to kick off the broom next to him which will fall over, hit the trowel, send it flying towards the watering can which, according to his calculations, will hit the cat right on the head with enough force to knock him out. The feline fiend only needed to take one...more...
Just then, a bright dot appeared on the wall, above him. The cat's attention was immediately drawn to it. The dot moved towards the floor, sometimes making small circles and the cat tried to catch it, but to no success. Basil looked towards the house and saw Emilia on the roof of the house. She was using the candle and a piece of glass to create a concentrated ray of light. She lured the cat further and further away and Basil took the opportunity to run back to the house. He, Dawson and Wendy stared up at her.
"How did you come up with this neat trick?" Dawson asked.
"We use it back home with cats." she said. "They love light dots."
"I didn't know that."
"Of course not, you English have no sunlight." she smirked.
This new cheekiness caught the doctor by surprise.
"Now to be clear!" Basil raised a hand. "I had things under control, and a plan in mind!"
"Of course you did, old chap." his friend patted his back. "You always do."
"That's right! And it was a very effective plan at that! That would've been just as effective as this trick of the light. Though I supposed that there is some elegance in its simplicity."
As he spoke, the cat had been lured far away enough and Emilia climbed down and landed back on the ground, in front of Basil.
"You're welcome." she nodded with a smile.
"Oh thank you thank you!" Wendy wrapped her arms around her. "I thought I was gonna die!"
Emilia tensed up and raised her arms, staring down at her with big eyes, not knowing what to do.
"I-" he huffed. "Come along everyone, let's get out of here while our feline friend is looking for this bright dot."
"First and foremost," Dawson said. "we have to retrieve all of the dolls."
"We could just come back later!" he shrugged.
They all glared at him. Basil groaned and rolled his eyes.
"Very well. But let's do this quickly. Need to remind you that there is a feral and hungry cat walking about?"
"But now, we will be ready, and Miss Redfield can easily drive it away." Dawson smiled.
"Whatever." he mumbled as he walked back into the house.
"Vous êtes sûre d'être une souris? Parce que des fois vous êtes vraiment une tête de mule" Emilia smiled.**
"Watch it, missy." he poked his head out and pointed at her with a glare. "I know French expressions too."
She wheezed and covered her mouth before she could laugh out loud. He huffed again.
Goerge Beazley paced in circles around the living room while his wife stared at the time. He had come back from work hours ago and the two of them have been doing nothing but waiting ever since. When there was finally a knock at the door, Mrs. Beazley flinched as Mr. Beazley rushed to the door. He wanted to ask questions right away but when he saw the detective and his assistants holding ragdolls, he was rendered speechless.
"Ah! Good evening Mr. Beazley!" Basil smiled. "I have great news- 'scuse us."
He began to march forward and Goerge stepped back into the living room as his wife stood up to face her guests.
"We have found the person responsible for your daughter's disappearance and have the conditions that would lead to her coming back home! A singular one, actually."
"Anything." he said without thinking yet being aware of the possible consequences.
"To listen to her, without interruption."
"What?" the parents said at the same time.
The three mice stepped to the side, revealing Wendy behind them. She kept her gaze down, avoiding eye contact. There was a moment of heavy silence. Then, they rushed to hug her.
"Wendy. My dear darling Wendy." her father said in a breathy voice. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you like I did."
"We were worried to death." her mother cried. "The thought of you alone out there kept me awake at night."
Wendy was shocked for sure. And after the near-death experience went through tonight, she finally felt relief and cried, hugging them back.
"I believe things will go smoothly from now on." Basil nodded with a smile.
In the end, seeing her parents' reaction changed Wendy's mind about this whole 'witness' thing. She was now convinced that her parents would hear what she had to say. Basil and Dawson were offered payment for the work they've done, but they declined.
"We were called for a kidnapping, but as it turned out, no kidnapping was taking place." Basil explained.
"Are you rich already?" Emilia asked as the three of them left the house.
Basil chuckled.
"Skipping a payment or two won't hurt." he shrugged. "Besides, I wouldn't want to sour the mood with talks of money."
"That's very noble of you, Basil." Dawson smiled.
Baker Street was closest, so they stopped by there first. The three of them sat down with a collective sigh of relief. Mrs. Judson made tea for everyone.
"Today was much more exciting than I could have anticipated." Dawson said. "Miss Redfield, you were outstanding!"
"You turned out to be quite the mouse of action." Basil smiled.
"Oh it was nothing." she shook her head. "It's normal back home."
"I wouldn't be so sure. To keep your calm in times of crisis, not everybody can do that."
She shook her head again, remembering the panic she went through when the tiara was stolen.
"Just with cats." she said, looking down at her cup.
A moment passed, Basil noticed that she contained a yawn.
"Ah, it is rather late, it's true." he said, looking at the clock. "Would you like me to call a cab for you, Miss Redfield?"
"No no." she put her cup on the table and stood up. "I like walking."
"Well then one of us must walk you back to your home."
"Good idea, Basil, go on." Dawson patted his back. "If the lady witnesses another crime, you'll be able to catch the fiend no problem."
And so, once again, Emilia and Basil were walking together through the dark streets of London. They passed by St Margarette Street.
"I hope Wendy will be okay." she said.
"Of course she will." Basil nodded. "If my deductions are correct – which they always are – she shall begin an apprenticeship at Flaversham's by next week."
"...How can you tell?" she frowned.
"A detective can always tell."
"Sounds like magic."
He laughed.
"No no," he shook his head. "no such thing as magic, my dear."
"...I'm sorry you didn't get to use your plan."
"It's alright." he shrugged. "There will be plenty of opportunities later in the future. And we got to witness you in action, and learn a neat light trick."
"I'm glad, then." her gaze wandered. "I wonder, if uh... Je me demande si je suis la première à vous apprendre quelque chose." she glanced at him with a raised eyebrow.***
"Well now you're just teasing me." he frowned.
"Sorry." she chuckled. "The urge was too strong."
"If you want to teach me anything, why not tell me your real name?" he raised an eyebrow. "Emilie…?"
She tensed up and glared at him. He chuckled and looked ahead of him.
"By the way, you have yet to answer my question. How did you like this educational escapade?"
She hummed, thinking.
"It was educational. And fun." she smiled.
"Mmh. You were lucky this wasn't an actual kidnapping."
"...Did you know from the beginning? That Wendy just ran away?"
"You should've read that telegram." he leaned a little closer, like the Beazleys could hear. "They were very insistent that this was a kidnapping."
"I see..."
Soon enough, they've reached the Royal Ballet School.
"There you go, Miss." Basil gestured her to go ahead. "Get plenty of rest, you deserve it."
She went up to the door and looked back at Basil.
"Goodnight, detective. Thank you."
"Goodnight, Miss Redfield. De rien."
She smiled and went inside.
Once she reached her dorm room, she went on with her nightly routine, preparing for bed, putting her things away, watering her yellow rose and asking herself the same old question. She realized that, in the end, she hasn't practiced at all, and so she should practice twice as much tomorrow. Which meant she won't come by Baker Street. She sighed and went to bed. Before she laid down, she looked around her small room.
And she realized... This wasn't her room, but the school's. Everything, down to the clothes in her wardrobe, was provided for her.
She pursed her lips. This realization brought a strange feeling. She went to sleep and replayed the events of today to make herself forget. But it still lingered...
The next day, during breakfast, she looked around the cafeteria. She really was the oldest one here, the students all smaller than her...
A few days later, she went to the Royal Opera Theater and talked to the front desk.
"Um, excuse me?"
The receptionist looked at her, shocked.
"I know the Giselle ballet isn't for a long time. But could I have tickets? It's for friends."
"French...? Um!" she shook her head lightly, as to snap herself back to reality. "Um, for sure Miss Redfield. Just a moment."
As she watched the receptionist work, Emilia wondered. Everytime she opened her mouth, people were shocked to find that she was French. She thought it made sense for people outside of the theater. But the staff here too?"
Then she realized. In the entirety of her career, she barely spoke a word to anyone. The person she would frequently talk to was Dunkan, and most of the time he would do the talking for her, since she had difficulties with English.
She shifted uncomfortably. Before she could ponder about this further, the receptionist called for her. Emilia got two VIP tickets which allowed entrance backstage. She sent them to the Flavorshams, remembering that she told Olivia they'd see each-other again.
Dunkan was in his office, reviewing the drafts for the art that will be on the bill, with a look of boredom on his face. There was a knock at the door.
"Yes?"
"Dunkan?" Emilia opened the door.
"Aaaah Emilia dear!" his face lit up. "Come in come in! You're finished with practice, right?" he looked at his watch. "How nice of you to drop by!"
"I have something I want to request."
"Something you'd like to request?"
"Yes."
"Well, what is it, darling?"
She held her own hands.
"I'd like to leave the school and have my own home."
Dunkan froze, he stared at her for a moment.
"I'm in my mid-twenties now, I'm much older than all of the students. My room is getting too small for me, I might start to feel claustrophobic in the near future, and I'm afraid it could affect my performance. And-"
"My dear, sweet child." he stood up, shutting her up. "I completely understand your situation." he said as he walked around the desk. "But you must know, owning a property is a lot of work." he gently grabbed her shoulders from behind and sat her down on the chair opposite of his. "I mean, you have to clean, wash your clothes, do the dishes, pay the bills. And you have to find it in the first place, have you seen the real estate market these days?" he asked with a concerned look as he sat back down at his desk. "Simply dreadful. I let you stay in the Royal Ballet School because, over there, you don't have to worry about all those things, and you can focus on your career."
"And I am really grateful." she bowed her head. "But I think it's important for my own personal development to try and grow independently from the Royal Ballet School. Moreover, the fact that I occupy a room there means that a promising young girl isn't. I would hate to take that opportunity away from anyone."
Dunkan was shocked at how easily these words came out of her mouth. She's actually been working on these arguments for that precise moment.
"Since I'm the one in charge of your finances," he eventually said, leaning back. "I suppose you want me to find you a place to stay."
"I know it's a lot to ask, I'm sorry. But you're the only one who can do it."
"If it's a rental, how do you intend to pay rent?"
"With the...money I earn?"
"Oh but my child." he leaned closer, his fingers intertwined as he rested his elbows on the desk. "Two thirds of your salary is sent to your parents, remember? As per your request. And the other third goes to me."
"Oh... Um..." she looked down, thinking and clearly conflicted.
Seeing her like this, Dunkan sighed.
"I suppose we could use my cut for your rent. I'll see what we can get you with that budget."
Her face lit up.
"Oh merci Dunkan, merci!"
"English please, I can't understand a word you're saying." he rubbed his temple.
"Thank you so much! I promise I'll work hard!"
"You know I can't say no to you, dear." he shook his head with a smile. "Now get out of here you little scamp!" he waved a hand. "Get plenty of rest. You have to wake up early tomorrow."
"Yes!" she stood up. "Again, thank you, Dunkan. Goodbye."
He waved his fingers at her, smiling. As soon as the door closed, he leaned back in his chari and frowned.
"Where the hell did she learn 'moreover'?" he mumbled.
Dunkan found Emilia a small apartment in the center of London, rather quicker than she expected. It surely was bigger than her dorm room but it was much emptier as well, with only the bare necessities as furniture. According to Dunkan, this was all she could afford. Emilia looked around, exploring every corner. It was old, cold, the walls were thin, the windows had no curtains and the water faucets weren't working properly.
When she was done exploring, she stood in the middle of this empty space, looking around for something. Finally, she went up to the small table and placed her potted yellow rose. She then took a few steps back, admiring her living room, and smiled.
She made plans to ask Mrs. Judson how to clean...everything.
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! :D
Translations!
* "There's no time, go!"
** "Are you sure you're a mouse? Because sometimes, you can be a real donkey head." ('donkey head' is a French expression referring to someone who's really stubborn xD)
*** "I'm wondering if I'm the first one to teach you something."