Truth be told, Vincent couldn't think of anyone else who might be lounging in the shadows of a noble's ballroom, quietly sizing up every person in the room — other than Audrey's beloved dog.
And if Susie was here, then Audrey had to be somewhere nearby.
He let his gaze sweep around, searching the area near Susie — and sure enough, he found her almost immediately. A girl in a sweeping sky-blue gown, her beauty the kind that words simply couldn't do justice to.
No wonder she outshone every witch in the original story. Even Bernadette — or rather, ahem, even Vincent himself, wearing Bernadette's face — couldn't quite measure up.
She looked to be about sixteen or seventeen, tall and slender, with a cascade of golden hair. She stood at the edge of the dance floor with a glass of juice in hand, and those green eyes of hers were doing exactly what Susie's were — quietly watching everyone around her, and clearly enjoying every second of it.
And this, the most dazzling jewel in all of Backlund, showed absolutely zero need for anything as far as Vincent's broker instincts could tell. What a charmed life.
At that moment, Audrey noticed Vincent looking at her. She met his gaze with a faint, polished smile — the kind that came naturally to someone long accustomed to being the centre of attention wherever she went.
Most men didn't dare stare so openly. It was usually women who looked without reservation — though even so, something about this particular woman felt different.
From behind the Spectator's lens, Audrey had already completed her quiet analysis: the woman's face was clearly disguised. Whatever she actually looked like was impossible to tell.
She seemed utterly out of place — like she didn't belong here at all. And she was watching everyone, just as Audrey was, her gaze pausing here and there as if she were measuring something.
That feeling… it's strangely familiar.
She's not a Spectator too, is she?
But why does she look at me as if she already knows me? Not the "I've heard of you" kind of knowing — more like someone with a genuine, prior understanding of who I am.
I'm certain I've never met her before.
Audrey's curiosity burned. She was half-tempted to walk straight over and ask.
"Audrey."
A young man in a dress suit appeared at her side. "Audrey, this is the proprietress of the Caesar Restaurant. She's been wanting to meet you for some time."
Audrey turned at once with a gracious smile. "How do you do…"
That brief exchange across the room had given Vincent a basic working impression of the Spectator ability: short of a Faceless being, it would be very difficult for anyone to slip past those eyes unnoticed.
"Oh?"
Vincent spotted a familiar face and made his way unhurriedly to the far corner of the ballroom, where a small, disguised figure in a server's uniform was quietly helping herself to cake. He raised a hand with a grin. "Miss Xio — fancy running into you here."
"???!"
Xio froze mid-bite, snapping her head up with wide eyes. "How did you recognise me? I looked in the mirror before I left and I barely recognised myself."
"Well…"
Vincent looked her up and down — slowly, deliberately. He said nothing. His expression said everything.
"…"
Xio curled her fingers inward. "Ms. Natasha, are you thinking something extremely rude right now?"
"Of course not." Vincent shrugged. "Miss Xio, why on earth are you playing server at Viscount Glaint's home? Did he hire you for the evening?"
"Mm. Something like that."
Xio gave a vague non-answer.
In truth, she was there to escort Glaint and a certain Miss Audrey to an Extraordinary gathering later that night. Given that there were people in the shadows hunting for her, she and Fors had come to Glaint's home first, intending to set out together once the ball wound down.
"Fair enough — I won't keep you from your duties. I'll carry on looking around."
"Wait."
Xio suddenly thought of something. "Ms. Natasha — there's something I'd like to ask you. Could we find somewhere quiet to talk?"
"Of course."
The two slipped away from the ballroom and into the villa's garden. Xio was alert the whole way, eyes sweeping the shadows around them with the wariness of someone who'd learned not to take stillness for granted. She was already short-legged at the best of times, and her constant vigilance made her walk even slower.
Vincent had to keep deliberately shortening his stride — sometimes stopping altogether — just to stay beside her. There was something quietly amusing about the gap between her youthful face and the dead-serious look she wore on it. Completely at odds with her height.
"…"
Xio spun around and fixed him with a look, eyes bright in the dark. "Ms. Natasha. Are you thinking something rude again?"
You're really very sensitive.
Vincent shook his head. "I'm just wondering what you wanted to talk about."
She stared at him a beat longer, then tossed her messy hair out of her face. "Just call me Xio. I'm not some noble lady."
They found a deserted corner of the garden and stopped. Xio spoke.
"I wanted to talk to you about Sherlock." She studied Vincent for a moment, then asked carefully: "Did he tell you — about wanting to become a woman?"
"He did."
"And you said you might be able to help?"
"Yes."
Xio's eyes went wide. That youthful face took on a thin edge of authority — the unmistakable manner of an Arbitrator. "Are you saying that seriously? Or were you just trying to make him feel better?"
Vincent didn't answer directly. Instead, he smiled and said, "Miss Xio — and the other lady who's been following us through the shadows — you're both Extraordinaries, aren't you?"
"!!!"
Xio's expression shifted. She stepped back sharply, then threw a quick hand signal into the darkness. "You're an Extraordinary too?"
Vincent gave a small nod. "I am."
"To answer your original question — yes, I genuinely know how to turn a man into a woman. And it's quite simple. All it takes is becoming what we are."
Xio stared. Then the penny dropped, and she breathed, "You mean — becoming an Extraordinary?"
"Exactly."
"Which Pathway?"
Vincent smiled. "In the world of Extraordinaries, knowledge is currency. I'm sure Miss Xio understands that."
Xio's cheeks flushed. She cleared her throat. "Obviously I know that! I — I'll pay. Just tell me it's real!"
"In that case… one hundred pounds."
Vincent held out his palm.
"…"
That much?!
From the shadows, Fors nearly cried out. Do you know how many novels I'd have to write to earn that? Xio — don't agree to it, don't let her con you — we'll be eating out of bins for a month!
"How do I know you're telling the truth?"
"We can find an arbitrator, or draw up a contract. There are plenty of ways to verify things in the Extraordinary world."
Xio hesitated. Then she set her jaw. "…Fine."
Sherlock emptied his pockets for my sake without a second thought. What do I have to complain about? It's only a hundred pounds.
Vincent said, "It's the Assassin Pathway — though most people call it the Witch Pathway. Sequence 7 is called the Witch. Upon consuming the potion, the drinker is forcibly transformed into a female."
There's a Pathway like that?
Xio's mind reeled. It sounded almost sinister on its face — men who wanted to become women, like Sherlock, were a small minority. If any ordinary man accidentally drank that potion, the results would be horrifying.
But still —
"It only works at Sequence 7?"
The thought landed like a stone in her stomach. She was still at Sequence 9. She didn't even have the formula for Sequence 8 yet, let alone the money to buy the materials.
Where on earth would Sherlock get that kind of funding?
Vincent read her expression and continued, "I happen to know of a way to obtain the potions for this Pathway — free of charge."
Xio stared at him. "Really?"
Vincent extended his hand again. "Two hundred pounds."
To be continued…