Crown in The Mist (ENGLISH)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The room wasn't that big. Save for the small bedside table, a wooden chair, the small bed, and the closet, no other furniture was in the room. The small window was closed, ornamented with a curtain that was freshly washed judging from the smell of detergent and fabric conditioner. A small vase with a single stem of flower was also there, beside a telephone. A couple of photos hung on the floral patterned wall stopping at the moldings on the edges of the ceiling. A single light bulb hung from the white-painted ceiling. There was another door that led to a decent enough bathroom.

I nodded in approval. The best room I've rented so far.

I placed the suitcase on the table and removed the coat I was wearing. I looked at my watch. It's already almost three o'clock in the morning.

I winced when I felt the pain of my wound I tried to sit down. Damn it.

I was about to lie down when I heard a knock. I reached for my scarf and put it on before I opened the door. The girl at the front desk was standing in front of me with a tray in her hands. On it was a cup filled with hot water, instant coffee and several bags of tea, and a slice of cake.

My brows quirked up as I looked at it. I saw her gulp.

"I..." she said and took a deep breath, "The money you gave was too much so I bought you these."

I blinked. "I thought I told you to keep the change?"

She shook her head. "The change was too much. Please accept this, Lady, or I will be punished."

My brows furrowed. "Who would punish you?"

She looked around as if she's afraid someone would hear what she's about to say. 

"The owner of this inn," she said quietly.

She was a frail woman. She might be the same age as me or younger by a few years but she's shorter by a few centimeters. And she looked like she'd break any moment. I looked at the tray she's holding and sighed before I took it. The last thing I would want in this place is trouble.

"Thank you," she said and quickly took off before I could even mutter my thanks.

I sat on the chair and ended up having an early breakfast. Minutes passed and I couldn't sleep so I decided to take the telephone and dial the reception desk. Her weak voice answered.

"I finished my meal, kindly take the tray," I said and put the telephone down. I heard her footsteps a few minutes later and I opened the door. Before she could open her mouth I pulled her in.

"What  are you doing—"

I kicked the table causing the vase to fall down. She flinched.

"Tell your boss you needed to clean the broken vase so he won't be punishing you for entering a guest's room," I said. I fished out some money in my pocket and laid it out on the table.

"And tell your boss this is my payment for the damage. Will he still punish you for that?"

She lifted her head and looked at the broken vase then to the money on the table. She then shook her head.

"Good," I said, crossing my arms, "I have a question."

Her throat bobbed and she started fidgetting.

"Clarence Fiore."

Her eyes widened at the name.

"Do you know where I could find her?"

Horror could be seen in her eyes as she looked at me. My brows furrowed at her.

"Why...why do you ask?" 

She was still fidgetting and she couldn't look me straight in the eye. She knows. She's just scared.

"Clarence Fiore, where can I find her?" I repeated.

She shook her head. "She doesn't have...I don't know. I don't know where she is." She stormed to the door. But I called her before she could even open it.

"The vase," I said, "won't you take the money for the broken vase?"

She stopped walking and faced me slowly. "Take the money and tell your boss a guest broke the vase. That's the payment."

I sighed and sat on the bed. I don't want to force her. Maybe she had a good reason to be scared. She was even frightened when I gave her extra pay.

I saw her walk towards the table and picked up the money. Maybe I could ask somebody else. As much as possible I should avoid the officials. But who will I ask?

"Harvin District," the girl said.

I looked at her. She gulped. "It's an hour away from here. You can take a taxi or the train to go there," she said.

She turned and was about to open the door when I called her again.

"Could you please bring me a first-aid kit?"

She scanned me but found no wounds. She then nodded and before I could ask her another question she immediately went out of the room. She came back minutes later, merely knocking on my door and leaving the kit in front of it. I sighed. But when I opened the kit, it had an extra ointment and a note. I washed my wound and applied the ointment around it before I tied the bandage around my waist. Wincing because of the pain. This is all his fault. 

"f**k you, Ares Magnussen!" I said loud enough for the people outside to hear as I heard one drunk man replied, "Yeah!" 

I groaned.

I looked at the time and it's half past three in the morning. Even if I sleep, I wouldn't be able to. I was lying on my bed when a loud noise disturbed the silence of the whole building

It came from the next room. I grimaced when I realized the walls aren't soundproof.

Mercifully, the noise didn't last long. It sounded like something just fell down the floor. I sighed. The last thing I would want is to wake up in the middle of the night hearing inappropriate noises. 

* * *

I shoved the curtain to the side and observed the street below. Stalls were open and a few people were roaming the streets. No sign of guards and officials. I straightened the coat I was wearing and lowered the cap on my head. The weather isn't very cold so it would be suspicious for me to wear a scarf. The cap was enough. 

I pulled it lower when a man next door also went out of his room. I lowered my head and pretended to look for something from my little bag until the man passed by me and gone out.  I bit my lip and started walking down the hallway with the wooden floors creaking with each of my steps. The lights were flickering and in all honesty, the hallway could pass off as a setting for a horror movie. 

The girl from the reception desk just bowed her head slightly. I did the same. The lounge area was quiet and I was thankful this isn't one of those kinds of those inns where drunkards would be free to harass anyone inside. Despite the eerie atmosphere and how old it looked, it was decent enough. Or maybe it's because of those same reasons that this inn hasn't got a lot of customers. I think it's much better. 

The smell of smoke from cars and freshly baked bread was what greeted me when I went outside. The street isn't that busy. Most are just housewives, buying groceries and I saw a long queue of people from the baker's nearby. Xian is the city closest to the west, where Sandovia is. Most of the products imported from Sandovia lands here. 

The map on the lounge told me the train station is about fifteen minutes away from here. 

Harvin District. 

I searched about the place using the phone I took from Lance. It's the third-largest district in Xian and probably the most corrupt. According to the papers, it's the home of the gangsters, gamblers, and many more. I touched the gun in my pocket when I felt the phone vibrated.

Fuck. 

I forgot to turn it off. 

When I checked the phone I almost tripped on the road. Because on the screen, written in bold letters, were probably the most threatening sentence he has ever said to me. 

YOU ARE DEAD. 

I let out a small laugh before I typed:

Took you long enough. I was expecting you'd notice it ten minutes after it was gone. Anyway, that was a very reassuring message. Looking forward to it. 

And I purposely placed a laughing emoji to piss him off. I immediately turned the phone off and sauntered to the crowd, smirking as I could already imagine how annoyed he must be.

It took me almost thirty minutes to find the station. I gave the ticket to the stationed guard, keeping my face as low as possible. The station was crowded but I managed to find a seat at the back. Less noticed.

As the train went on, I couldn't help but remember the stories of my mother about Clarence Fiore. She said she was her friend. Closest, in fact. My mother would describe her as the single grain of salt in a spoonful of sugar. She's different. But I never thought she'd be this kind of different to the point that a mere mention of her name would make the poor receptionist tremble in fear. I don't know if it's a good idea to be looking for her. I inserted my hands inside my pockets where the necklace was. Maybe if I show her this necklace with my mother's name on it, she will listen and not shoot me on sight. I don't know why am I even assuming she would shoot me. I just know she's bad news but I don't know how bad. I think I'll just have to find out.

* * *

Harvin District isn't what I imagined it to be. I don't even know why I thought it would be someplace dark and gloomy. But it is quite the opposite. It was swarming with people. It almost looked like one of Dalian's markets. There were people everywhere. Some were just taking a stroll, some were busy buying and negotiating with the vendors, some were arguing and are moments away from throwing punches to each other.

The street was merry. The shops and the stores are open and I could hear the music coming from them. It was the kind of music that one would hear in a club. Overall, the street was noisy and messy.

I made my way until I reached the part of the street where the crowd was thinning. Homeless people begging for coins sat on the corners. Compared to the buildings I saw on my way here, the ones in this part are old, almost as if a little more and it will collapse. The shops aren't that fancy and litters were on the ground. It looked like a ghost town. At least just this part.

I went to the narrow alley, wide enough for a car to fit and for me to run freely should anything go wrong. I clutched the gun inside my pocket, feeling the cold bite of the metal. I noted the passages I pass through. I have somehow developed a trauma with maze-like alleys.

I eyed the homeless people on the side. Some had their palms or their cups out, waiting for coins to drop. Some were sleeping as if they don't care or maybe they've filled their stomachs.

There seems to be a lot more homeless here compared to the main street. That only means one thing: there might be a lot of people on this side. I can start asking where I could find Clarence.

I was about to turn to the left when someone bumped into me. She looked at me for a brief moment before she pushed me into the wall and pointed the knife at me. But I anticipated it that I also had my gun out and pointed it at her head. Why is everybody making a habit of pointing their knife at me?

She wore a hood, just like mine. Her brown hair was tied but strands of it fell down. She had soft features that if it were a different situation, she could have passed for a sweet darling girl, coddled inside a mansion planning tea parties and having stitching lessons. But right at the moment, she is moments away from slitting my throat. 

I pulled the hold of my pistol, she eyed it, and then her eyes went back to me.

"Very impolite to point a dagger at somebody," I said.

She c****d her head to the side. "Are you one of them?" she asked. I don't know what she's talking about. But one thing's for sure: this girl is on the run. Somebody is chasing her.

"You started pointing that knife on me. I don't know if you're in the place to be scared right now."

"Oh, I'm not scared." she walked closer. But I pressed the pistol harder on her head causing her to halt.

"I'm just being cautious," she said. She pressed the knife harder.

"This makes you the third person to point a knife under my chin. You should be honored."

Her brows furrowed. But I continued, "Put the knife down and I'll put my pistol away."

"Who are you?"

"If I am after you, I should have pulled this trigger minutes ago, knowing how easy it is with our position now."

"I wouldn't be too sure. I'll make sure I'll have your throat slit before you could even pull that trigger."

I smirked. "Wanna bet on that?"

She stared at me for a moment before she put her knife down. I did the same.

"Who are you?" she repeated. I inserted my pistol back into the pocket of my coat.

"Someone like you." Running away from something. From someone.

She just quirked her brow and was about to open her mouth when a gunshot echoed in the narrow alley. I took out my pistol and pointed it at the man when the girl suddenly grabbed my hand and we made a run for it. I dropped the pistol near the bin. f**k.

Her eyes became even more alert. I could see the homeless running, hiding. They didn't even make any sound as if they were used to this kind of thing.

"Seems like I won't be the one shooting you in the head," I mumbled as I saw a man from a distance with a gun pointed towards us. He fired another shot and this time, it hit the wall above my head.

"And he might be going to shoot yours too," she said before she dragged me to run. Another shot caused us to duck but never stopping to run. The homeless were running with us, finding a spot to hide but we kept running. The mysterious girl kept dragging me, moving her way to the alleys, dragging me along.  I muttered a silent curse. I just got stabbed days ago. I can't afford to be shot now.

We halted when we reached a dead end. I heard hear muttering a curse. We turned back but the man was already in front of us, pointing his gun in our direction.

"f**k," the girl said. And I might have said something similar on my mind too as the guy shot the bin on our side causing us to drop on our knees.

We just heard footsteps as it neared until it stopped in front of us.

"You even had an accomplice, huh?" the man said. I was inclined to say I wasn't really an accomplice and I would gladly help him. I hated to say it but she reminds me of myself. So I didn't say a word.

I felt the gun in my head. "This is the end of you all," he muttered. I was about to hold the muzzle and try to disarm it. I don't care if I shoot it somewhere else just not at me.

But it seemed like I didn't have to do it anymore because somebody just dropped from one of the buildings around us and knocked the guy out with a swift swing of her rifle on the guy's nape.

It was a woman. Her hair was blonde, reflecting the morning sun. But her most noticeable feature is the huge scar on her face. It went from the top of her brow all the way down to her left cheek.

"Clarence," the girl muttered.

The woman c****d her head to the side. "Well? Thank god I was on time," she said and winked at us.

I grinned more to myself. I didn't need to find her because she already found me.

* * *