Story: The Glove, XII

( Part XI , XIII )

Agnethia was of course the opposite of her mountainous uncle, a winsome but steely looking young lady. Steffan was awestruck just by her presence. No, she wasn't classically beautiful, but she carried herself in such a wonderful way...

Hold on, if Octavius was Rook's brother, and Aggie was his niece, then wasn't she--

"If you keep staring at me, I'll have to assume you're a mute of some kind!" Aggie glared.

"I'm -- I'm sorry. You're nothing like the girls at home."

"Humph." She looked around his room, finally satisfied. "This is your entry chip, this is your food card, and these are your backup keys. The common eating times are listed on the door." Aggie turned to the door, and then turned back. "What's so different?"

"You're like a lady from times past. Someone so classy that I feel like I should be running off to hide in the kitchen." Was what Steffan wanted to say. Instead, he managed to stammer out, "Your eyes, they -- they seem to shine light when you look at me." Gibberish. He inwardly screamed at himself.

"Hmm. See you around." Aggie left.

*    *    *

Days passed, and Steffan spent his time looking for employment and information on the disconnect between Edin and Burgh. Rook refused to talk about the cessation of exchange students between the two cities for the moment, and Aggie was too busy with her linguistic studies to be of much use, as well as uncertain about him.

Work was elusive, but he had funds to keep going for a while, and the mystery was far more interesting. One day, on a trip to the satellite town of Canterbury, Steffan was wandering around a kirk and enjoying the forest, while the teashop was tempting him with cakes.

Then a shot rang out, and everything became slightly different.

To be continued...