Chapter 5: Clementine Orson

Adrien steadily drove up to Orson manor. Tucked away from the bustle of Helsing, set comfortably near the forest of old Illunis. A mighty estate that survived the witch fires of the Arcane graced with the gentle glow of the moon against the marble walls, a witness to its grandeur. The creeping trees guarded its sanctity, keeping its secrets hidden from the rest of Alegria. Yards of roses and olive branches shifting from side to side as a glamour to wandering souls that dared to trot up to the estate, a reminder of its opulence that cost way too much but was not worth the sacrifice.

It had its own history, a well-known fact that the Orson's did not erect its high walls and lush gardens. The whole city knew of its previous occupants, the reason behind the phantom ball. But to Adrien, all the truths clustered in myths had to be set aside. He was a man on a mission, willing to dig deep in the pits of hell for a glimmer of gold. Or in his case, the Pristine Pearls. A string of ornate gems that lustered like no other pearl before. Birthed from the deep blue, from a single oyster that made each Pearl during the Arcane. A rear thing for something so beautiful to blossom in hades mouth.

Until the festivities of the Night of the Phantom Parade began, he'd have to treat it as any other family home. And he, along with Benita, were their guests.

A maid was already standing out in the parking lot for them. She promptly went up to the car, greeted them with a loving smile, then brought them into the Manor.

Rosemary and the lingering smoke scented the halls. The walls painted a lovely hue of sky blue that had been darkened by the night, set with dizzying streaks of gold feathers etched into the porcelain carvings that decorated the walls.

The maid was quick in her steps, rushing them down the long stretch of walls and paintings to where their host had been waiting for them.

It wasn't long till they reached the family room, setting foot into the large open space. The vaulted cupola was held up by swivelling rows of rose quartz pillars. Above them, like any baroque Alegrian home was a painting. Adrien craned his neck up to catch sight of what the manor deemed worth to have displayed on her ceiling. A woman. She was half naked, having on a piece of white cloth to cover her bare nipples and private parts. Ginger curly hair flowed down the side of her body, as she sat in an open oyster shell. Staring down wistfully at the room's occupants. Other than that, the room was kept simple according to Adrien's standards. White velvety furniture lotted the open hall with porcelain tables. The Pillars had roses carved out of the rose quartz, an intricate intertwining of petals and vines. And, instead of a chandelier hanging overhead, the light came from each pillar. From lanterns made of crystals that were shaped into tears, an enchanting blue that sought to emulate the moon.

Sitting on the couch with a fleece wrapped around her body was their host. She was reading a book by the fireplace already sparked aflame. The maid scurried to her side and alerted her of their presence. The host waved a hand, and the maid backed away. She turned around and with her icy blue eyes, caught sight of Adrien and Benita.

Adrien smiled, but his eyes went on to study her paling skin. Clammy and cold yet filled with a queer iridescence. "It's been a while, Clementine," he said.

She too smiled, with an awfully piercing gaze. Setting down her book onto the wooden coffee table before her, she responded, "Last time I saw you, you were zipping down Mulberry Lane with Donatella Cosima at your side. And a few days after that, she was at my doorstep with tear-stained eyes talking about how you dumped her and went back to Port Vernon."

Adrien chuckled. How could he forget. The poor girl was insufferably clingy, griping about the lack of attention he gave her. As soon as he got the call from his father to return to Port Vernon, he wasted no time, leaving a one line note at her doorstep, then driving back home. The following week, Donatella's father threatened to sue his family for seduction. They even went the extra mile and claimed that Donatella was pregnant with his child. Adrien's father chewed him out for his recklessness but bailed him out in the end. It didn't take much to prove Adrien's innocence. The Cosima's had no legal standing, the courts refusing to believe a 16-year-old had seduced a 19-year-old girl. And even after the child was born, all claims against his family had fallen. The little girl she bore, was born with brown eyes. That was enough proof.

Clementine gave a gentle bow. "Forgive me, Adrien, Ms. Kane. I would have greeted you at the door like a proper hostess, but I'm afraid my situation is rather dire at the moment," she said, shifting in her seat to fully face him. She pulled her feet off the sofa and slipped them into her fury slipper. Her trembling arms peeled the fleece away, and she mustered up the strength to stand and face him.

"It's no problem," he said.

She nodded, letting her eyes lazily turn to the honey skinned girl standing beside him. Her eyes glistening as she caught full sight of Benita, enthralled by her rugged exterior and cold brown eyes. Benita was still, eyes steadily planted ahead, gazing at nothing. Her hands were fashioned to her revolvers, body relaxed yet totally Intune to everything around her.

Clementine crept forward with small steps. She set herself in front of Benita, inspecting her acne scared skin and jawline. "Arlecchino. A deadly fool."

Adrien exhaled, watching intently how Clementine studied Benita's face. Her fingers running along Benita's jaw, flicking, and playing with her hair, all while Benita stayed still. Adrien went forth, grabbed Clementine's hand, and pulled it off Benita.

"She doesn't like when people touch her face. You know, acne and all rages on during youth," he said softly with a smile.

Clementine nodded, slowly retracting her hand away. She offered them seats, going back to where she was sitting, while Adrien and Benita sat down opposite of her. The maid had returned with cups of water, setting them down on the coffee table before making her disappearance. As Benita took sips of the water, Clementine couldn't help but keep her eyes glued to the young, hired gun. She marveled at the revolvers cased to her thighs, and intently studied her uniform; a pair of matte black combat boots, casual slacks, a black double breasted waist coat neatly overlain her white button-down shirt. And to top it all off, a black velvet trench coat.

"I didn't know she was young. She has a rather underdeveloped body. More like a little boy." Clementine drawled. "I would think she hasn't gone into womanhood if it wasn't for her age."

Clementine straddled herself on the seats edge. Her mouth was slightly parted as she sought to reach out for Benita's guns. But ultimately, as her hand was outstretched, she brough it back.

"Her guns.... they're beautiful. I've never seen a weapon made from ivory. Quite the peculiar sight."

"Billie G. Ryder had them made specially for her, to mark her out from the rest of the guns. She's his favorite in the organization. His most prized possession. I had to meet Billie myself to ask for permission for this interview."

"Is that so?" Clementine said, leaning forward. "The men at the arms factories used to rave about her. They found it surprising Billie took in a stray as his own. But I guess the gamble paid off in the end. I guess one could say, like father, like daughter."

"In the end, for them, it's all contractual. Aside from the hits she's given, Benita couldn't harm a fly."

Clementine's face twisted slightly at Adrien's answer. She looked to him, with a stiff smile and asked, "Can she talk? I would love to hear her voice."

He scoffed, letting his sultry lips curl up. "She can. But she won't."

Clementine's stiff smile weakened. A wry laugh left her lips, running her fingers through her hair, "Oh, that's right. There's a contract."

"There's plenty of information I can tell you, on her behalf. I know a lot about Benita, down to the number of scars she has on her body."

"As intriguing as that is," Clementine sighed, "I'm not interested in what you have to say. I want to hear it from her."

"What? You don't trust me," Adrien leaned into the couch, propping his elbows on the arm rest.

"No. That's not it. But I know you, Adrien. Anything you say tends to be laced with lies and venom, no matter how truthful it is."

"Come on. I thought you liked that about me."

"At times it has its advantage. But not now."

"Don't be like that," he pouted, looking to Clementine with eyes filled with his playful charm. "I can tell you things nobody knows."

Clementine turned to Benita; her attention fully drawn to her. She smiled and extended a hand, "Good evening, Ms. Benita Kane. I'm Clementine Orson, as you know per the contract you signed with Adrien, I invited you here for an interview as a hired gun captain, as well as to enjoy the coming holiday. It's lovely to have you here. I look forward to working together."

Benita's eyes slowly turned and fixed themselves to Clementine. Her fingers had tightened around the revolvers trigger. Casually, she pulled them out, and laid her guns onto the table.

"That means hello," Adrien said. "That's the most you'll get out of here tonight."

Clementine laughed in disbelief, "Well, I wasn't expecting that."

"Sorry. We can continue this conversation tomorrow. By then, you'll be able to have a conversation with Benita per our agreement. If you don't mind, we'd like to take our leave for the night."

"Of course."

The maid was summoned, coming out from the hall, and receiving instruction from Clementine. The maid shot straight for Benita soon after and prodded her to move, but Benita sat still. She asked again, but Benita still did not move. Bewildered, she asked Adrien for help. He didn't know what act she was putting on, but gently told Benita to get up and listen to the maid. She finally did as told and went with the maid to wherever Clementine had planned she reside.

Left alone, Clementine and Adrien's eyes locked on each other.

She slumped back into the chair.

"How can you be so staunch?" she said exasperated. "We could have had a little more fun with her. It's barely ten o'clock."

"That's foul," Adrien chuckled. "She needs her sleep. Besides, I can keep you company. I can tell your far from sleep anyway."

"No kidding."

Clementine took her fleece and wrapped herself in it, lying sprawled out on the sofa. Her flush cheeks and glassy eyes were completely on Adrien. It had him shudder, wondering what had her burning up all sudden.

"What?" he asked. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I've missed you dearly," she muttered bitterly. "It's lonely here. Lonely and cold. No one comes to visit except the priests from the church."

"I figured as much."

"But you know I'm not the same whore from a year who was lapping up the little attention you and the rest of your club gave. I'm in a different position."

"Tell it to me straight. I don't need a whole exposition."

Clementine gently pulled the fleece down, just enough to expose her bust. She gently lowered the neckline of the dress, revealing a string of pearls around her pale neck. The Pristine Pearls.

"Maren," she whispered. "The old inhabitants of Illunis, the reason for the phantom ball. I've been, infected with their virus."

"That's not something I didn't notice. It was bound to happen sooner or later. I mean, you can't live here and then move on Scot free."

Adrien went to her, cast the shadow of his body over hers. At least she wasn't making it obvious and kept some semblance of dignity and chastity, wrapped in a beautiful lace dress that had her body completely covered.

He scooped her into his arms and asked, "Which way is your room?"

She pointed down the hall. He pivoted on his heel and followed her direction, holding her close to him, feeling the ice of her veins.

"Don't tell Benita about the infection. She gets creeped out by these sorts of things and might run away."

"That's not what I was expecting. She doesn't seem like the type to get spooked by this."

"Expect the unexpected."

Her eyes watered, fingers playing with the button of his suit jacket. "I don't need your sympathy, so don't feel inclined to care for me. But I do need your help. Do you mind?"

"Do you really need to ask?" he sighed.

Clementine laughed, nudging herself against him. "It might leave you sore in the morning. I can't promise it'll be gentle either."

"Stop worrying, it's annoying."

He looked down to her dazed eyes. Gulping down, he found the strength to squeeze out, "I can handle it. It's the least I can do."

They disappeared behind the ornate door of her bedroom together. He stayed there all night, only to make his grand appearance again in the early hours of the next day.

The morning was easy, except for the lingering soreness in Adrien's neck. As they sat at the long table littered with silver wear, he gently rubbed the nape of his neck, trying to push away the thoughts of the night.

Benita seemed content, seated across him scarfing down a plate of eggs and sausages. Content wasn't enough though; he could see her weary eyes and stiffened nature as she spasmed each time the cooks call out to check if they wanted more. She didn't utter a word except for good morning. Perhaps she just needed a good dose of sunlight. To him, she was a sunflower who needed the pure guiding rays of the sun. In his heart, it was his mission to make sure she always got it, to never see the dark cells of life that kept her deprived of joy.

Clementine's seat was empty. He didn't need to ask why for he had a good guess that they'd never see her in the mornings. She had seemed satiated enough, and perhaps, the morning sun wasn't the best source of nutrients for her. Perhaps it was for the better, it'd give Benita room to breathe without her contractual limitations.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked.

Benita hummed, taking a bite of toast.

"You kind of look a bit like Jina. I don't know if I should be scared or glad."

"Brain not working. Starting up."

Maybe that was why back during their training days she was always late for breakfast.

Regardless, he told her to get ready and dress casual. Once she had taken a shower, and had fully awoken, he took her to the Ice- Cream parlor down on Braga Boulevard.

Benita's eyes lit upon their entrance, greeted with the sound of pop tunes blasting from the speakers along with the chatters of old and young folk. She gripped onto Adrien's arm, suppressing a squeal as she asked, "Is there a budget? Who's paying?"

"It's my treat. Order whatever you like."

"Anything? Are you sure?"

He looked up to the sign above the order counter displaying the menu and prices. The treats were reasonably priced ranging from five to fifty Kruger's. All he wanted was a cup of coffee since his belly was bursting from the hearty breakfast served just an hour ago. But Adrien knew Benita always had space in hers, the only thing that could never be satisfied.

"Maximum of five."

Benita nodded cheerfully, rushing to join the line.

"Get me a cup of coffee please. The way I like it," he shouted softly to her, drifting away to a seat in the corner of the shop. Benita gave him a thumbs up and went straight back to eyeing the menu.

He sat himself down on the macaron stools, gazing through the window. Just regular people, enjoying their Saturday afternoon with the sun smiling down on them. He faintly heard the television talk about the recent news of Nilla, a pair of women going back and forth on her engagement. They were quite smitten with the visuals of her future husband and discussed his caring and charismatic nature. Attention had been drawn to the next commander of The Imperial Guard expectation swelling in the heart of the Azurians who believed the wit of Nilla and strategy of her significant other would finally put the Kings in their place and free the land from their tyranny. Adrien had met him a few times, each encounter ending with a bruise to his eyes. He shuddered at the thought of them being secluded together at the Castle and wondered how Nilla would stomach his sheer presence. Making a mental note, it was top priority to call her once they went back to the manor. Perhaps he'd be lucky to catch her before her voyage.

As time went by, and Benita haggled the cashiers to add more chocolate chips to her ice-cream, a man walked up to him and plopped down on the stool beside him. A young man in jeans and a peach shirt, carrying a plane ice-cream cone.

"Good morning, Sir," he said.

Adrien nodded, "What's the status?"

"Tariq and Lexi are approaching the border of Saiba. They should reach the Khans in five days. We're still working on the location of the lost gems, and number 7 is mailing invitations for the phantom ball to the known possessors on the black market."

Adrien turned to the man, "Get to the actual point. You know I don't like meeting in public."

The man gave a gentle bow, "Sorry, Sir. It's the bloody tear of Saoirse. We found its location, but its procurement is proving quite the challenge."

"I'm sure I gave you sufficient funds to buy it. What's the problem?"

"The Excelsior Museum of Fashion and Fine Arts has it. And as for the gem, it was ground into a fine powder and used in a dress that will be auctioned of by the museum in a week. Bookings are full and the security is tight. Even if we wanted to buy tickets to get the dress, we can't."

A vein in Adrien's neck popped, "Can't?" he repeated. He leaned over to the man and wrapped him into a hug, squeezing him in his embrace till he could feel his lungs expand against his chest.

"I don't like that word. Don't ever say I can't do something. Otherwise, I will make sure you can't speak. That way I won't have to hear your voice say it again."

The man stuttered, "I'm sorry."

"Don't tell me you're sorry. You should apologies to yourself for not proving that you're worth the scholarship I gave you. It's not easy studying political science. And It'll be hard to gain traction in any party if you can't speak at a rally."

Adrien pulled away and smiled. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Benita walk up to the table with five cups of ice-cream, sorbet, and parfait, along with his cup of black coffee.

Her eyes went round when she saw the man and exclaimed, "Oh! It's you!"

She set the tray onto the table and hugged him. "It's been so long! How are you?"

Stunned, the man said, "You shouldn't be here. Perhaps we can catch up at another table. I'm a little busy."

"I think I picked the right table. I didn't know you knew Adrien. Small world isn't it."

Adrien asked, "How do you know him?"

"You're not the only person with people crawling over the cities. All of us..." she chocked on her words. "All of us friends, have... Anyway, it doesn't matter. Let's eat!"