Chapter 8: Seven

“The bacon sure is sapid, isn't it?” Rasputina murmured in satisfaction while finishing her glass of orange cordial. “I have an urge to ask for seconds now…” 

Anastasia, who was munching on a cherry tomato, nodded her head avidly. “It beats any of the bacon Iʼve had before!” 

“Donʼt talk while you are chewing,” she chided gently. “But Iʼm surprised you have had bacon before, are you rich in your previous world by any chance?” 

“Rich?” Anastasia tilted her head to the side and laughed. “Not really, they cost only like 350 yen…but the problem is that Japanese bacon always tastes chewy rather than crispy like in America.” 

“Huh, chewy bacon?” 

“I know right, it tastes weird…something to do with the fat content, I think.” 

A shrill steam whistle, followed by two short blasts, suddenly interrupted them. Machel quickly excused himself from the table opposite and exited the dining car via the connecting door to the second-class carriage. 

“Did something happen?” Anastasia whispered. 

Rasputina shrugged and kept her gaze on the connecting door. Machel returned a minute later, his lips momentarily thinned into a suppressed frown before he looked up at everyone in the dining car. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the Orient Express will be delayed at Canterbury,” he stated. “We suspect there might be a possible obstruction on the tracks in the mountains. Until the obstruction is investigated, we cannot move off from Canterbury.” 

Murmurs rose from the passengers, though it was clear that they could do nothing but wait for the tracks to be cleared. 

A gentleman at the back of the dining car stood up and asked, “how long might the delay last, Conductor?”

“It’s hard to say at this moment,” Machel said apologetically. “But we estimate the delay to be more than an hour. If you may excuse me now, ladies and gentlemen.” 

The murmurs grew into conversations among the tables. “Whatever shall we do, Father?” 

“My Lady, will you be returning to your room after breakfast?” 

“This is unexpected…” 

Anastasia perked up and pressed her face against the glass window pane. “We’re approaching the station, Rasputina. Look, are those people waving flags on the platform?” 

“Hmm?” She gazed out of the window as well. “Must be the local townspeople coming to welcome and pander to us. Canterbury is a popular tourist town, after all.”

“Since we’re stuck on this train for now, why don’t we visit the town? Let’s go!”

“H-huh?”

Without waiting for her, Anastasia jumped off her seat and skipped towards the connecting door in an unusually good mood. Rasputina couldn’t help but wonder if the bacon she ate might have contained some funny drug. 

Throwing a helpless glance in Theo’s direction, she hastily wiped her lips with a napkin and caught up with the lively princess in the vestibule. Surprisingly, a waiter was present there too, talking to Anastasia with a troubled smile. 

“Your Highness, it’s really not safe for you to disembark the train without a detail,” he persuaded her. “Please just give me a moment to talk with the Conductor before you go.” 

“I have Rasputina with me,” Anastasia said, brushing off his concerns as she attempted to push past him. “She can protect me from any danger.”

“Huh? Your Highness…”

Without hesitation, Rasputina smacked her lightly on the back of her head. “Oi, don’t say things like that so irresponsibly.” 

The waiter looked at the Saintess and bowed his head deeply. “Your Grace, may you please advise Her Highness not to wander off without supervision? Iʼll go and find—” 

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“Waiter, if you may pardon my rude intrusion, I can accompany Her Grace and Highness and ensure their safety,” a voice suddenly said from behind them. “I know this town well, and I’m willing to volunteer as their personal guide.” 

Both Rasputina and Anastasia spun around in surprise and immediately gawked at the prepossessing lady approaching behind them. The sunlight coming through the vestibule window caught her hair as she moved out of the shadows, casting rich aureate rays on her charcoal-grey curls like a halo. Her captivating smile had an almost breathtaking charisma to it. Stepping closer, her perfume wafted like wildflowers on a breeze, immediately putting everyone at ease. 

She gracefully lifted the hems of her midnight-black pleated dress and dropped a polite curtsy. “Greetings, Your Highness and Grace. My name is Florence Nightingale. I stay in the No. 3 berth adjacent to yours.” She paused to delicately fold her gloved hands over each other. “I happened to overhear your conversation just now, and would like to be of assistance to Your Highness and Grace.” 

“Nightingale…” Rasputina studied her familiar face. “No. 3 berth? Then, you must be the passenger from Lancashire yesterday?” 

“Lancashire?” An emotion that seemed like puzzlement flashed in her golden brown eyes before she quelled it with a composed smile. “Ah, yes, we’ve met before. I should apologise for my sudden departure then.” 

Before Rasputina could question her further, the waiter interrupted them with a polite cough. “Miss Nightingale, I appreciate your assistance, but you can’t simply just—”

“Since Miss Naichingeru is so kind to volunteer to be our guide, why don’t we take her up on her generous offer?” Anastasia suggested, shutting him down with a carefree wave of her hand. “Off we go!” 

“Naichingeru?” Nightingale, bemused by her strange pronunciation, muttered to herself. 

“You’re having a lot of fun, aren’t you?” Rasputina muttered with a wry smile before bowing apologetically to the puzzled waiter. “We’ll be back shortly.” 

“H-have a safe trip…” 

 

---

 

The sound of loud applause coming from the platform outside the dining car drew Theo’s attention to the windows. “What in tarnation are they doing…?” 

“Her Highness and Grace must have taken the opportunity to grace the townspeople with their esteemed presences,” Alphand said, glancing at the crowd. He gave a light cough and said, “pardon me for asking, but I’ve noticed that you had been paying special attention to them for quite a while. Aren’t you afraid of displeasing them?” 

“Displeasing?” Theo couldn’t help but let out a snort. “I get a kick out of irking Her Grace on a daily basis, don’t worry about it.”

“Good grief…” Alphand gave a low whistle. “I wouldn’t have expected that Her Highness and Grace are friends of yours, Monsieur Cath. You’re indeed a well-connected gentleman.”

“Don’t say that, please. I’m hardly a hail-fellow-well-met,” he replied with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Alphand laughed. “I’m delighted to have the honour of acquainting with you on the Orient Express.” He paused to take a sip of his café com cheirinho and sighed happily. “There’s something about a tangle of strangers brought together in the same confined space, Monsieur Cath.” 

“For days we sleep and eat under the same roof, yes, but we hardly have anything in common besides the need to get from one place to another. And at the end, we part, strangers once more, never to see each other again. Quite poetic, isn’t it?”

Theo nodded his head, despite not really catching his intention. They finished their breakfast in subdued silence, then Alphand suddenly came up with a suggestion while Machel was clearing their plates. “Monsieur Cath, while we wait, will you be so inclined to take a walk around Canterbury together after breakfast?”

“I don’t mind…but what’s interesting to see in this mountainous place?” he murmured, glancing out of the window at the scenery. From what he knew, Canterbury didn’t have much to offer other than its antique cathedral and cool weather all year round—things he wasn’t particularly interested in. “If you ask me, the entirety of Canterbury can already be seen from the train.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Alphand said almost instantly, shaking his head in disbelief. “Monsieur Cath, what you’re looking at now is the superficial outer beauty of this town—the true beauty of anything is always in the inside. Do you know that there is a rare type of liquor only produced by the local distillery here?”

Theo paused and raised his eyebrow at the word ‘liquor’. “Pray tell, what’s its name?” 

“Sartreuse, named after its distinctive yellow-green colour when poured straight from the barrel. It is made using natural wild herbs that grow on the Canterbury mountainside with a delightful minty aftertaste.” Alphand nodded, a pleased smile below his well-groomed moustache. “Monsieur Cath, I believe you will find its taste unique just like the jubilee red wine. It’s worth a try, trust me.” 

“Oh, I’m sold.” Theo wiped his lips with his napkin and adjusted the collars of his coat. “What a splendid breakfast, I must add. Once you’re done, let’s set off immediately for the distillery.”

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