Chapter 21: Twenty

Half a year after their fateful meeting, Theo and Xavier had established themselves as a reputable forger-conman pair in the Empire’s underworld. It was truly quite an incredible feat for a rookie like Theo, but the truth was, he had already been accustomed to faking official documents and seals—basic espionage skills taught to every Evidenzbureau officer before they were sent on overseas missions. He hadn’t been planning to be a show-off, but evidently good forgers were in high demand in the underworld. Meanwhile, Xavier seemed competent enough that fixers were willing to tolerate him in order to hire Theo. 

But this time round, they had been offered a job that was vastly different from the usual. 

“In two weeks, there will be a gala held in the Casino de Maripol. Your role is to infiltrate the gala using fake invitations and stir up a large commotion. Once you have successfully drawn the guards out, make your escape. If everything goes according to plan, 800 doubloons will be waiting for you under the second bench in Waiting Room G, Bahnhof Maripol.” The fixer who hired them laid out a map of the République-sœur Elvetica on the table. The map was well-creased and marked with countless tiny annotations—the fact that their client had done so much preparation, yet still needed others to carry out the devised plan sent alarm bells ringing in Theo’s mind. 

“What’s the catch?” he asked, eyeing the calm fixer. 

The fixer shrugged and took out a note from his coat pocket. “My client has requested for one of you to ‘crossdress’. In other words, disguise yourself as a woman.” 

Xavier and Theo exchanged flabbergasted glances and refused the outlandish request straightaway. But in the underworld, nothing can’t be solved with money—and this held true even for two men as straight as they came. 

“Five hundred doubloons,” the fixer said. “That’s the bonus my client has promised to give if you accept this request. In fact—” he turned around, picked a heavy, bulging bag up and slammed it onto the table. The force was so great even the gas lamp hanging from the ceiling overhead shook. 

Two pairs of eyes instantaneously widened at the glint of gold in the opening of the bag. 

“I have the bonus right here,” the fixer announced. “Take it, or leave it.” 

In his burst of excitement, Theo reached out to touch the bag of gold doubloons. 

Xavier snickered loudly. “Since Theo has chosen to claim the bonus first, he shall act the role of the maiden.” 

His head had spun around so fast he nearly snapped his neck. “W-WHAT?!”

 

---

 

“How did it go? Did you succeed? Did you?” Anastasia quizzed, athirst for more details.

Theo flinched. “P-please spare me, Your Highness, I have long since repressed that traumatic event. Crossdressing really ain’t my thing.” 

“Aww, come on…”

Has Her Highness finally forgotten her anger towards him? He breathed a small sigh of relief and turned to Rasputina. “Your turn to explain how you ended up like this, bratukha. Starting from that stupid Crown Jewels heist. Don’t worry, Nightingale is my trusted ally.” 

Rasputina, who had been listening to his recount with a half-dazed look on her face, blinked suddenly. “W-wait a minute, before that. Theo, you were a Königreich spy? For real?!” 

He nodded his head solemnly. “Together with Nightingale. We were based in the Königreich embassy with the mission of extracting state secrets that could prove useful to our homeland…” He paused for a moment to draw a shaky breath before averting his eyes. “I’m sorry, Xavier. I lied to you about my past.” 

She remained silent.

Theo—afraid that he wasn’t going to be forgiven that easily—was about to open his mouth to apologise further when she shook her head. 

“I’m not mad at you because you lied about your background to me, though?” she said. “I perfectly understand your reasons for doing so. What I don’t understand—” her teary eyes flashed with jealousy as she jabbed her finger towards Nightingale “—is why are you choosing her over me?? Is my current body not good enough, huh?! You bastard, now you suddenly decide to spring this random bitch from Lord fucking nowhere on me, after all my attempts to seduce you failed?!!” 

He started. Ayo, why does this sound like a lover’s quarrel? Huh? That’s why you were crying? Bratukha, could it be that you’re actually the sodomite here?

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“Interesting partner you’ve found, Fedya,” Nightingale whispered, barely able to suppress her laughter. 

“Sorry, I no longer recognise this woman,” he muttered. “Can someone please do me a favour and send her to the local mental institute?”

Thankfully, Anastasia interrupted Rasputina in the middle of her nonsensical rant. “I’m so confused now, Rasputina. Is Xavier your real name? Are you actually a trans?” 

“Ah? Um…what does ‘trans’ mean in this context?” Rasputina questioned, tilting her head to the side. “But oh well, the cat is out of the bag at this point. I might as well explain my original identity…” 

After she had finished her side of the story, both Anastasia and the two sisters were, simply, overawed to the point of silence. Eventually, it was Nightingale who finally spoke. 

“I heard the gist from Fedya earlier, but to think that it is this ridiculous…” She shook her head and turned to Theo. “Anyway, we should go back on track, Fedya.”

He nodded curtly. “Bratukha, do you still remember the name of the lady who followed you and Anastasia in Canterbury?” 

“Name of the—what?” Rasputina stopped and stared at him as if he had just asked a ridiculous question along the lines of ‘does the sun rise from the east or west?’. “She’s literally standing beside you the whole time, isn’t she? Florence Nightingale from the No. 3 berth?”

“Are you certain?” Theo pressed. “Really certain?” 

Bewildered, Rasputina turned to Anastasia and tentatively asked, “she did introduce herself as Florence Nightingale, didn’t she?”

Anastasia slowly nodded her head in confirmation. “Theo, is there something wrong?” 

Nightingale stepped forward. “I have reason to believe that the lady you met this morning isn’t me, Your Highness and Grace. I have a bad habit of skipping breakfast. This habit has been with me since young, and even the man you call ‘Theo’ can attest to it. Hence, I was in my compartment for the duration of breakfast service. I, Florence Nightingale, swear that this is my first time meeting you or Her Highness in person.” 

Both Anastasia and Rasputina were stunned silent for a moment; it was Rasputina who spoke first, her voice laced with puzzlement. “If that lady wasn’t you…then who is she?” 

“Nightingale suspects—” Theo clenched his fists subconsciously “—that she is an assassin sent by the separatists to kill Anastasia.” 

“A-assassin?” Anastasia’s jaw dropped. “What separatists?” 

“The Ottoskis,” Nightingale said in a low voice. “Nearly thirty years ago, the Empire invaded the coal-rich regions of the Ottoski Caliphate along the border. This was seen as a necessary and justified move to fund the Empire’s rebuilding efforts after a devastating war with the Southern Continent, namely the Königreich. The invention of the steam engine further drove the Empire to seize more and more territory from the Caliphate to gain more resources. At one point, it even captured the capital city of Constantinople, leading to the utter collapse of the Caliphate. You must understand, Your Highness, that such humiliation is still fresh in the mind of many Ottoskis.”

The princess’ face paled as white as snow. “T-that…”  

“Theo didn’t mention the reason why I’m on the Orient Express,” she continued softly. “So I’m going to make it clear now. I’m here on the request of my saviour—the person who saved me from the gallows after being captured by the janissaries.”  

“A request?” 

“Her Excellency has requested me to find Princess Anastasia and arrange a personal audience with Her Highness,” she revealed. “In Hacerne.”

“Her Excellency?” Rasputina asked, astonished. “N-no way, your saviour is…”

Nightingale nodded her head solemnly. “The Sultana of the Ottoski Federation.” 

The next moment, a bloody scream shattered the air. 

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