Chapter Text
Dancing Queen in Lilac
"So, let me get this straight," Franky interceded incredulously, taking a swig of the dubious-quality gin Twilight had brought to butter him up for the mission. They were at Franky's base at Little Japong, so the space was less of a warehouse and more of what Franky liked to say— his home away from home. His brow lifted over the rim of his glasses, eyes not quite glittering yet. "What you're saying is, you need me to come along to Bayan for your mission, not babysit your dog and daughter?"
Franky placed the glass down and crossed his arms, half-mischievous in tone. He corrected himself, voice rising. "No, no. You want me to join you on your mission to find potential terrorists before the SSS does? No—" he uncrossed his arms, took off his glasses, and rubbed the bridge of his nose while hiding a small grin, "you want me to accompany you to the Miss Ostania Beauty, where only the most beautiful women in the country will be on one stage?!" Franky yelled vigorously.
"Well, when you put it like that—" Twilight said dispassionately.
"NO! You already asked me! You can’t take it back!" Franky puffed before calming down, resuming with a probing expression almost as flat as the spy’s. It sounded a little too good to be true, so he had to make sure he’d heard correctly. "You think because it’s a bachelor’s dream, and me—being the perfect bachelor I am—would say yes in a heartbeat? Because I’m more respectable than that!"
Twilight sighed and pulled a brick-sized envelope from his coat, handing it to the informant. As soon as Franky’s eyes landed on it, it only took a second for him to clear his throat and cough into his hand.
"Respectable. Yes—more like responsible," Franky harmonized under his breath. "Uh— so you require my services then. What is it that you want to know? Natural hair color? Shoe size, perhaps? You name it, Twi-boy," he chanted, obnoxiously proud, while Twilight rolled his eyes at the name. Franky continued listing his supposed talents, "Or do you need any of my new equipment? I can make sure we get what we need undetected."
‘Natural hair color? What does he even mean by that—no, concentrate,’ Twilight thought.
He pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. It contained his mission debrief, with his brother-in-law’s name and partner underlined in red ink. As the informant finished reading, all of Twilight’s exasperation suddenly made sense, along with the sizable contribution to his pocket.
"I see," Franky chuckled. "The missus attending the show, and now your brother-in-law operating in everyone’s faces." He offered the spy a fresh cigarette, which Loid refused, though he recognized it as a wordless thank you.
"I need you to come with me so I can avoid crossing paths with them unless it’s absolutely necessary. I might also need you to run a list of any potential threats, given how half of Ostania’s political show-runners will be there."
"I wouldn’t bet on Desmond. You know how cautious he is," Franky said, taking a drag of his cigarette. "The wife, however—" he paused as Loid removed his hat. Both men sat down, staring at the folder.
"Yes," Loid said resignedly. "The chances of Yor encountering Melinda Desmond are quite high." Plan C is active, but this could lead to more information, he thought, closing his eyes briefly. Franky, on the other hand, found the phrasing a little too pointed. Maybe Twilight had been letting his guard down for too long.
Carefully, Franky tested the waters. "Could it also be that you’re worried about their safety?"
"Operation Strix requires all members of the Forger family to remain without disturbances. If they’re in the audience, their exposure to harm increases. Hence, this mission is constrained by circumstance."
Franky absorbed his words, dissecting them closely. "Yeah, I suppose," he muttered, biting back a whatever you tell yourself at night. "I can arrange cover for my business in Berlint," he said, pausing over the thick hundred-dalc bill, before adding with a taut grin, "I gotta say, though, I’m surprised you need me to go out this far. You’re not gonna ditch me like last time, are you?"
Right. The cherry liqueur fiasco in Frigis.
"This mission is too important. WISE needs everything it can get to stay ahead of the game," Twilight whispered, thinking of how enthusiastic Yor and Anya had looked while packing their suitcases.
Norenberc, Northern Bayan
Miss Ostania Beauty, Day 1
The contest was set across three different cities of the Bayanese belt of cultural landmarks. Their first stop, Norenberc, at the heart of Northern Bayan, was also known as the City of Inventions. At its peak, castles and red steeped roofs gleamed along the Peritz River, narrow cobbled streets captivating with centuries of history. The first stage would take place at the Gardens of Norenberc Opera House: the most notable medieval fortress in Ostania.
After leaving the hangar, Chloe, the First Lieutenant, and Yuri had headed straight to their van instead of jumping on an eight-hour train ride. Between the car ride and the demanding schedule of the show, she had left with little time to breathe. She needed all the help she could get—so, out of the three, it was decided she would be the only one absolved from driving.
But upon arrival, Chloe whistled through her teeth, scrunching her brows beneath a thick layer of makeup. She repeated her cover name with a nauseating flip of her stomach, remembering how both the First Lieutenant and Yuri had insisted she needed a rounder alias and a glamorous name to match her supposed intentions.
"Charlotte May? They can’t be serious. I sound like a housewife from the twenties! Charlotte May— Charlotte May—I’ll show them how ridiculous they want me to act— I’ll show—"
"Easy, Charlotte May—" Yuri’s voice came through her earpiece, rolling the name with the same mocking tone she’d just used. He and their boss were watching her from afar, quietly hidden in their van as they monitored the arrival of cars belonging to the contestants at their meet up point.
She’d been instructed to wait and provide the team with glimpses of each arrival and interactions. And, by the end of their orientation, she had scheduled to meet the main organizer of the event, Sophia Brayzen, who had appointed directly by the government following the unanimous win of her husband, Burt Brayzen, as the event’s chief sponsor.
Chloe scoffed and smoothed the hem of her lilac mini-skirt. She talked aloud, taking notes of her surroundings. It wasn’t just packed with their SSS team; local police and personal bodyguards were also there in a throng. A few curious onlookers milled nearby as well — mildly annoying, but ultimately harmless, Chloe decided.
"I’ll show you, Lieutenant. I have a gun under this dress. Try that tone with me once more and I swear I'll drag you out of that van and put these boots on your—"
"Officer, please, keep your eyes on the prize. You don’t wanna get disqualified this early and jeopardize our assignment thanks to that bloviating mouth of yours, do you?" Yuri said sarcastically.
"Well— I’d like to see you glide into the top ten wearing one of these." Chloe pointed at her dress for emphasis, though she wasn’t supposed to. To anyone watching, she probably looked like she was talking to herself out of nerves.
At the other end of the street, an open tour bus waited for the contestants to line up and be taken to the designated venue. The driver’s assistant had distinctive curly hair, red-rimmed shades and a matching bow tie. He looked as if he were having the time of his life with how his head bobbed between the gorgeous women as he matched their names to the list in his hands.
"Miss Anber— or shall I rename you future Mrs. Franklin… Ahhhh— what a captivating face, Miss Postam!" Franky yelled, not trying to hide his glee one bit.
"I should have asked you to drive. No—you'd probably plummet us onto the train tracks," Twilight snapped. He was disguised as the driver, over assessing as per usual. "Remember we're here to investigate, yes, but also keep ourselves out of Chloe Castle's way. She's Friedeburg's entry and not only is she armed, she could end your hopes and aspirations with a single, sweetly lethal glance. Concentrate, Franky!"
"So, how does that devil in heels and propaganda look like? Does the SSS even have pageant-level officers? Because believe me, I could place a juicy bet with some of my associates back home. Get some extra funds for my latest gear. You’ll want to pitch in too, Twilight! Trust me—"
"Concentrate, Franky." Twilight spoke, even more exasperated this time.
As Franky kept rambling, Chloe finally entered in his line of sight. Twilight had mostly stuck to plain observations. It had been nothing exaggerated or objectifying, yet, the informant's jaw still dropped.
"She's average height, slightly below the pageant's allowed limit but not short enough to warrant disqualification. She's got sharp carmine pink eyes, short dark mauve hair, though it's most probably under a wig or extensions. Lean but athletic given how much they're required to stay active." Twilight recited, unamused.
Chloe's white boots clicked melodically over the pavement. As she advanced toward the line, she quickly reviewed her cover once more.
Okay, Chloe. Deep breaths. You can do this. You arrest people. You fight. This is nothing—this is nothing. She puffed a breath into her hand, then rubbed both together for warmth. The air felt thin or maybe it was just how tight her dress was. Probably.
Okay. Here we go. You’re Charlotte, and you’re getting on a bus with at least a hundred probable suspects. That’s better. You’re going to examine their behavior—but don’t look stiff! Remember: you’re a soon-to-be educator trying to win the prize money as a grant. You’re doing this for the children! Ha-ha!
Yuri watched as she struggled with her own lack of grace, readjusting the hidden camera in her Ostanian flag pinned above her shawl. His snort crackled through her earpiece, making her move stiffly and cast him a hard cold side-eye across the street.
Chloe spoke to her mic before reaching the front of the line.
"I wouldn’t laugh, Lieutenant. You look absurd as well!"
Meanwhile, Franky gave her a once-over. Twilight's description definitely fell short once he laid eyes on her. This Chloe person was stunning. His heart fluttered like a wild fire, only to be put out by a sharp ache inside his heart, once he remembered who this woman worked with. Oh, but she laughed to herself, and made all matters worse. Her smile was utterly captivating.
Chloe mused about how Yuri looked and snorted loudly at the image. He had these huge round frames, a ponytail that looked far too tight, and a risible yet sophisticated fake mustache plastered above his upper lip. Upon closer inspection, he resembled that famous surrealist Supanian artist, Saul Daví.
The image had startled her so much it made her miss the first step of the bus and tumble right at Franky’s feet. He scratched his head awkwardly while trying to be chivalrous and stretched his free arm to help her stand.
"I'm OKAY! YES—!" She jumped up with eyes wide and shrugged bunglingly. She climbed the steps, flushed as a red sign.
Soon as Chloe got in, reality hit her. The contestants were all polished, beautiful, perfect women. Her pulse shot up like an overcharged defibrillator and her hands went sweaty. Shit.
It was too… pink. Lips, dresses, nails—everything. Everywhere she looked, she was surrounded by the most stunning women from all over the country. Chloe gulped dry, feeling woefully inadequate again. Her eyes scanned for an empty seat, moving hesitantly towards the back of the bus.
Breathe, Chloe. You can do this. You lie for a living.
However, calm only lasted a second. She made way through the narrow aisle, trying not to draw any attention, one of the contestants shot up, waving her hand excitedly. She motioned her to join her with a gleeful cheer.
"Hey! Miss Friedeburg!! Here!!" a dark-haired woman chirped, bouncing in her seat as if everything about her could spring to life. Chloe cringed, feeling startlingly noticeable to everyone on the bus. "You must be Charlotte May! Here! I saved you a seat!"
The woman launched herself at Chloe in a tight hug. She introduced herself with a giggle as stars danced in her eyes as she complimented her.
"I’m Lilly Ann Schwartz!" she exclaimed, pointing at her sash. "I’m Miss Anber!"
"N-Nice to meet you! You seem to know my name already—" Chloe said and forced a tight smile, remembering how little say she had over the name. She puffed discreetly.
"I memorized all ninety-seven entries! But yours was the only one without a picture, so I was sure it was you all along," Lilly Ann explained. Chloe stiffened at how quickly the woman had drawn her conclusion. It seemed too meticulous. That attention to detail wasn't unlike Yuri's, in a strange way. Swallowing, Chloe recalled their early briefing.
Lilly Ann Schwartz, 25 years old. Among her dreams: own a bakery and pass down her town’s culinary traditions. Seemingly inoffensive, she does have one small mark on her record. She was detained once for feeding and joining local protesters over last year’s fair trade talks. Claimed she didn’t know what the protest was about and was released on good behavior after a night in Anber’s SSS premises.
Chloe blinked, trying not to get too distracted by Lilly Ann’s bubbly personality.
The only threat this woman poses to the country is that pair of—
"So, Charlotte! What made you want to participate in the contest?!"
"R-Right! Oh!" Chloe smiled, clasping her hands together. "Well uh, I'm looking forward to get that grant. I wanna save enough money so I can move to Berlint and pursue a Masters in Education," she said bashfully practiced. As she answered, Chloe tried to keep an eye on the other contestants. However, as much as she had hoped for a quiet assessment, it rapidly became clear that wasn’t happening. Lilly Ann laughed and gestured so much it made Chloe dizzy, leaving no chances to examine the rest of the women.
Fortunately, her wish for quiet was granted right after. The roar of the bus engine seemed to had made the trick, then, a soft hush washed over the bus. The one and only, Sophia Brayzen had also joined them, taken stage at the front of the bus.
Chloe adjusted herself to observe her. There was something amiable about her, yet she commanded the group of wonen in a way Chloe rarely saw in any of the SSS leaders. There was beauty there, evidently— but her whole persona intimidated her. It wasn't difficult to understand why she’d been chosen for the role aside from her husband's business. For a moment, Chloe allowed herself to think that if Mrs. Brayzen were part of the SSS, she’d be able to rise all the way to General Director with ease. A gingerly smile formed at the thought, despite knowing that was far from happening in reality.
Mrs. Brayzen clapped her hands together, and every contestant exchanged smiles, leaving Chloe with a startled gasp. "Ladies! The moment we’ve been waiting for is finally upon us! Let’s show the world which eastern star shines the brightest!"
The bus erupted in bustling chants and cheers.
Weeeeeeelcome to Bayaaaan!
Weeeeeeelcome to Bayaaaan!
Blue mountains, lakes, nice countrysideeeeee!
Chloe stiffened, hopelessly awkward as she tried to follow along.
Oh, Lieutenant… you owe me big for this one!
Forger Residency
Berlint
Yor managed to wriggle the Shopkeeper’s permission for a few days off, and, to her growing luck, Becky Blackbell had suggested a change of plans for Anya’s sleep arrangements. The new plan worked seamlessly: Anya would have fun with her friend, while Yor could take on the task of learning how to be more… normal. Not that it wasn’t also a convenient excuse to spend time with Sharon, Millie, and Camilla.
Yor bowed politely to Martha Marriott before crouching down to give Anya a goodbye kiss and a be good, don’t cause trouble for the Blackbells send-off. She hesitated, then repeated the same gesture for Bond, who was also tagging along.
"Now remember, Miss Anya, Bond—" Yor began, in a gentle tone yet disciplinary. She tucked a stray hair behind Anya’s ear and patted the dog’s muzzle softly. "Listen to what Miss Marriott says. Don’t go running off on your own. If you need me, I’ll be just in the suite below yours."
She stood upright, then swung her body toward the butler. Yor bowed so absurdly low it was almost impossible to see how flushed her face was.
"Please let Mrs. Blackbell and Mr. Blackbell know how grateful we are for our accommodations. You're too kind! We will repay you anytime!"
Martha loosened up her collar and exhaled a reverent smile almost as if it said it was unnecessary. She rested a hand atop Becky’s head, as a signal for the heiress to carry on the words of generosity.
"Master! I promise I'll take care of my dear Anya! I just wish our dear Loid were to accompany us too! Such a shame!" Becky offered dramatically. Martha frowned at that and sighed.
Yor straightened again, beaming with one hand pressed over her heart. As the Blackbells’ car pulled away, another butler stepped forward and opened the door to hers—a gesture of formality that made her flush all over again.
Millie jumped excitedly inside, Sharon grinned from ear to ear, and Camilla leaned over Yor with a playful wave.
"My, Yor! You’ve certainly made friends in high places! Think we’ll catch a glimpse of the former Prime Lady again?" Camilla spoke deviously. She was friendlier than usual, taking a particular interest in keeping herself glued to Yor for the last couple of weeks. It was odd, it was almost as if she was seeking comfort in her, on her own particular way.
Yor brushed her arm, honestly bleeding though her voice even though she had shushed it nervously. "I-I don't know!"
"Loosen up Yor! This week is all about fun! Cheer up or you'll wrinkle—" She said, flattening a line on Yor's forehead. "So prepare yourself! We're going sightseeing as soon as we arrive!" Camilla cheered, placing a hand on Yor's shoulder to smoothen out her flinching.
"C'mon Yor! Let's hurry up!" Millie's head peered up from the car's sunroof.
Yor smiled, listening to Loid's soothing voice in her mind. She relaxed, ready for a well needed adventure.
You deserve to have fun, Yor. Nobody works as hard as you do.
"Thank you, Loid", she whispered quietly.
Norenberc's streets, despite being one of the towns most severely damaged during the First East-West War, looked perfectly preserved due to the government's efforts to restore its historical patronage soon after the wars ended. One could see that as one strolled through its streets. It was like walking through a museum exhibit, one surrounded by tall fortresses looming high above sandstone ridges.
Chloe and the contestants arrived at an area surrounded by modest churches, tall green domes that clashed with terracotta roofs. The view from the hotel was impressive too— with an unobstructed view of the Hauptmarkt— a place where the scent of almonds and Bayanese sausages competed with the smell of the flower stalls.
Chloe's mouth watered at the thought of a taste of local Krautwickel. It was almost noon, and she had skipped breakfast thanks to her preparations. She figured the First Lieutenant and Yuri, had definitely indulged at the local cuisine while tucked into a corner of the street by now, safe and comfortably relaxed inside their van. The image made her cranky and painfully aware of how loud her stomach would eventually rumble.
And, as if being hungry weren’t enough, Lilly Ann had latched onto her arm like a leech on a mission to drain her energy fully. She had to be cleared-eye to extract the right information, but so far, all she had learned was fruitless. Chloe exhaled quietly.
Both walked through the lobby, while Chloe surveyed her surroundings, stopping her head for a minute, shaking it at an extremely fast speed. In her field of vision came long black locks tied by a white head band, red dress, a distinct and a beautiful shade crimson in her ey— No. It couldn't be. This had to be Yuri's fault and influence, somehow. It was most likely that the lack of food had made her see things.
I might as well be that hungry I'm hallucinating Mrs. Forger. Chloe mused internally. Then, unassumingly, Lilly Ann and her, walked inside the dining hall at last.
Right across her, Sharon, Camilla, Millie and Yor, had finished registering at the front desk. The ladies were speechless as they mingled through the space. Yor flushed, awestruck.
How beautiful…
The glittery and corny banner above the stage of the dining hall stood out like a sore eye. Below the grand podium, there were at least twenty tables. Lilly Ann pulled Chloe toward one of them, grinning as she cleared her throat to introduce her.
“Everyone! I’d like you to meet Charlotte May! She’s the new entry from Friedeburg! She’s so level-headed and funny too!” Lilly Ann cheered, pulling out both chairs for them to sit down. Chloe smiled robotically as she adjusted her seat, which let out an awkward screech. The rest of the ladies exchanged a few quizzical looks.
“H-Hello! I’m really glad to meet you,” Chloe breathed out, trying to cross her legs under the table and failing miserably. Lilly Ann spoke again, gesturing to her right as the introductions began. Thanks to the pin on Chloe’s shawl, Yuri and the rest of the team had a perfect view of the contestants.
“June Johannes. I represent the pinnacle of free theological thought in Ostania,” the woman said proudly. Wittenbrück City was the birthplace of the most memorable theologian in Yuropa, alongside a series of other social movements. If one were to make a bid—purely for historical reasons—Wittenbrück would be among the Bayanese representative’s greatest opponents.
However, June was far too charming to give that impression upon first meeting. She had the most dazzling blue eyes and a face softened by light brown hair. Funnily enough, just like her hometown, June carried a kind of mystical aura—one enhanced by the white of her dress and its modestly cinched silhouette. Simply put, this woman looked effortlessly poised. Elegant.
June Johannes, Miss Wittenbrück. Rumored to be secretly involved with the owner of Wittenbrück’s largest theatrical enterprise, despite having an arranged marriage proposed by her family. The Johanns lineage is known for its pacifist stance—one of the few families that once stood firm against Westalian forces during the first and second wars, advocating for their city to remain untouched by conflict.
To say the least, she hails from a lineage of peace in Ostania. Her record remains exemplary, though this rumored affair could place her at the center of unwanted attention and strain her family’s image among their followers. Threat assessment: Low. Her goals appear personal—she wishes to marry for love and start a family. Participation in this contest could be her chance at freedom.
Chloe smiled back and turned to the next contestant. The woman had long fuchsia hair and obsidian eyes with a face carved in marble, as if even sitting beside the group was a burden. Almost on cue, her expression shifted—she extended her palm out to Chloe, as though for a corporate introduction.
“I’m Penny Marner. I’m not here to make friends. I will win this pageant,” she declared, her grip firm. She only relaxed when the contestant beside her placed a hand on her shoulder, as a silent reprimand. Penny exhaled sharply and added, “Fine. Nice to meet you. I’m only here because I want to bring attention to what they’re doing to the shores of my state. Like we needed another resort. We want schools! Parks!” the woman said as she banged her hand over the table for emphasis. Her hair had a brighter roseate tone than the bubblegum shade Yuri's adorable little niece had, and that alone made her stand out from most of the contestants.
Penny Marner. Miss Roshtock. Intense. Not outwardly dangerous, and her record shows no suspicious activity. However, her motives could make her susceptible to Western propaganda. Threat assessment: Medium. Keep an eye on this one.
A loud snort erupted from the other side of the table.
“Did all that chlorine in the pool get to your brain? That's no winner's attitude, Miss I-Lie-On-The-Beach-All-Day. All that sun has got to have dried up your soul,” a sweet voice teased in a slightly posh Berlinter accent.
“Will you hush and wait for your turn?!” the woman next to Penny snapped almost too politely. She had red hair, green eyes, and curls so bewitching that Chloe’s pulse faltered for a second.
“I’m Miss Liptzig,” she said tender-handed, tucking a strand of hair behind her shoulder.
Right on time, Yuri’s briefing voice helped Chloe’s mind pull out of her trance.
Bridget Beckert. Former model. No scandals, no records, nothing. Works as a bookkeeper at Liptzig’s largest library, and that’s it. Ugh.
Almost frazzled, Chloe quietly hoped the was more to her. Yuri's description of her had felt almost clinical, compared to how much warmth had risen to her cheeks.
Adjoining Miss Liptzig, another contestant smiled at a blank spot. Confused, Chloe whipped her head to see where she had looked, only to catch Bridget tilting the chin of the woman towards her. The woman introduced herself bashfully.
“Hallo! I’m Sally Kindler! From Bautzenberg!” she announced with enthusiasm, before letting out a nervous exhale. She paused before giving her a whispered explanation. “I have short-sighted vision, but we’re not allowed to wear glasses here, so please—don’t tell anyone, Charlotte!”
“I don’t understand how you joined a pageant and can’t even see your competition. How are you supposed to get on stage?” another contestant muttered, arms crossed in disinterest. After a beat, peer pressure made her sigh and glance away.
Another contestant interrupted, adding to the tension. “Well, I just want you to know I truly believe what that sign says,” she gestured toward the grand banner above the stage. Her long wavy brown hair curled at the edges, almost as captivating as her face. Chloe glanced at her, noting at their sashes. “We truly are all winners.”
Carly Curtze. Miss Münch. Naturally, one of the favorites to win the pageant—already advantaged by having the final round set in her hometown. Bayan’s local pride. A woman who knows exactly how to use her words to sway the masses. Medium threat. Possibly your biggest competitor, Chloe.
Yuri’s mental briefing overlapped with her Captain’s voice crackling through the earpiece.
“You better not get into an argument with this one, Officer. You’re guaranteed a spot in the Top Ten, but don’t forget—these women could be dangerous.”
Ironically, Chloe watched them verbally spar, roll their eyes, and mock one another.
Right… Dangerous.
She turned her head toward one of the feistier women— the one who had skipped her own introduction. Leaning closer, Chloe peered at her sash and reviewed her profile again.
Linda Lindhardt, Miss Postam. Another one of the favorites. An actress who had recently begun gaining notoriety. She mingles with Berlint’s high society, so she’s likely to have a powerful sponsor behind her in the contest. Her connections might secure her the crown—but they could also make her a valuable source of intel.
Yuri called for Chloe’s attention now.
“Mrs. Brayzen’s speech is up next. Make them hush. I can’t hear a thing!”
“A–Ah! I’ve been told Friedeburg people talk slow, but if I manage to get through this brunch, my joke will probably catch up by dinner, huh?” Chloe pitched her voice a little higher at the end, her confidence straining at Penny’s eye-roll and the loud snort Lilly Ann let out an embarrassingly long second later.
“Didn’t I tell you?! She’s hilarious!” Lilly Ann bounced in her seat, then stared at Chloe wide-eyed like an overexcited puppy.
Miraculously, Mrs. Brayzen tapped the microphone and cleared her throat as she began her speech.
“Welcome, ladies! Today, you’re not only representing your cities and towns as ambassadors of beauty and culture. But you’re also writing a piece of Ostanian history. You should be proud of yourselves! You’ve made it to where most people can only dream of!”
The room erupted in cheers, smiles, and laughter but it was strange. This world was not one Chloe could call her own, yet, there was something oddly comforting over seeing them compose themselves so diplomatically, almost as if they'd realized how trivial their earlier spat was. They all simply had different goals trying to make the most of what they had at hand.
Peace lasted only a second before Carly leaned in mischievously, lowering her voice.
“Well, that’s a well-practiced smile, isn’t it? I can recognize how fake this woman acts. Look! She can’t even stop smiling!”
“Yes, I have to give it to you on this one. If I were forced to organize this because my husband owes big buck to his business partners, I’d be angry too!” Penny chimed in, then gleamed wickedly. “They say Brayzen Industries needs the deal. They owe Blackbell Co. a juicy sum—or so I’ve heard from some of Himmelstrand’s biggest hotel developers. Apparently, they dropped a project because they couldn’t pay their contractors! They better stay away from the Roshtock shores I'll say!”
Chloe tensed, quietly absorbing the newly found information. She tapped her fingers in morse code lightly against the table, close enough for the mic to pick up the signal.
'Are you getting this? What do we have on Mrs. Brayzen? We’d better make sure this is factual, Lieutenant.'
“Brayzen was in Windsor’s original committee,” Yuri said through the mic. “He pushed for him as one of his personal choices, and they won the bid fair and square. Although—” he sighed, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to confirm the details of their agreement, just to be thorough. But— Remember Chloe, these are the same people who seeked us out to protect the event.”
Eventually, the speech continued towards its end, and, almost as a reminder of her position, Sophia locked her gaze on to her, briefly as she waved goodbye in slow motion.
Chloe stiffened.
It was almost as if the woman knew something.
She exhaled, feeling the weight of it all. Aside from intel gathering, she still had a tough task to complete. The only thing that comforted her was, in their line of job, there was nothing they wouldn't find out. Even the strongest soldiers had a weak spot— a crack in their armor that made them just as vulnerable as the regular fighter.
Only this was the beginning of her combat in the battlefield of deceiving smiles.
After brunch, a 'peace parade' stroll at Norenberc's streets was held and then afterwards, they headed back to their hotel for the first preliminary rehearsals. Since it was programmed two days from today, they would concentrate on their opening number, followed by the talent show— where the roster would be cut nearly in half. By then, only forty-five contestants would remain before getting to the second location—Redensburg, where twenty-five would remain right before final in the Bayanese capital: Münch.
Chloe quickly discovered that dancing was not something she was a natural, less in eight-inch-heels. She could barely walk in them, so the fact that it was expected of her to elegantly twirl in coordinated motions was ludicrous since the SSS hadn't exactly signed her up for dancing lessons. Chloe evaluated this almost like modern day torture.
She plopped onto the floor, driven down by exhaustion. She wiped the sweat off her forehead with a black towel, purposefully covering her face to hide a few muffled screams. Then, only a few minutes later, she walked down the aisle of the slough of despond, sliding her key to her suite with the last of her energy—careful not to wake her roommate.
She had been paired with Postam, whose disinterested attitude worked in her favor. Linda had come in half an hour earlier, while Chloe had stayed behind on stage, practicing the steps relentlessly. It was swell, it meant less curiosity, fewer questions.
All of her body ached, and that questionable mattress looked like a piece of heaven on earth. Just a few hours to recharge would be bliss. Chloe sank into the bed, kicked off her shoes, and exhaled deeply as she ignored Linda’s steady snoring.
Now for the first time, the concept of beauty sleep made perfect sense. Chloe closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself sink into the sheets until three melodic knocks shattered the fragile calm.
Her eyes flew open. Chloe jumped up before Postam could stir, and muttered a quiet curse as she tiptoed toward the balcony. Once she slid open the glass door, she found none other than Yuri standing there in the shadows, scowling at her wordlessly.
“This isn’t the time to be sleeping,” he said flatly. “We’re meeting the Captain back at the stage— Bring your tapes!” He gave a short, almost mocking groan before stepping aside. Chloe stared at him, still frustrated by how little effort his disguise seemed to need, while she felt like a clown with big feet under hers. She glared, shut the door behind her with restrained force, and turned away without a second word.
Maybe if they could just get through this meeting quickly, she’d earn five blessed minutes of silence without anyone whispering orders in her ear. Yuri really should have known better than to irritate her now.
Her heels clacked over the wooden floor again as she crossed her arms, stomping in front of the First Lieutenant. He greeted her with a weary tilt of his hat.
“Officer, we have a problem,” the nameless man said. He looked just as exasperated as she felt, and Chloe, against all odds almost pitied him. The poor man had probably spent hours guarding the surveillance footage with Yuri. Which, speaking of—
“You have no talent, Officer,” Yuri announced suddenly. He raised his brows as he mirrored her posture, expression was equal parts smug and judgmental.
“I beg your pardon?” Chloe finally said, strained.
“You have no talents, woman! Didn’t you hear me?” Yuri barked, throwing his beige cap off and gesturing wildly with both hands. The First Lieutenant immediately stepped forward, extending an arm between them as if to block a potential tackle.
“What he means—” the older man began, shooting Yuri a sharp look before turning to her, “is that the talent show is on Wednesday. You need a number good enough to justify your position.”
“B–But that’s in two days!” Chloe stammered.
“Yes. That’s why he said we have a problem. Well—you have a problem, Chloe,” Yuri replied matter-of-factly, folding his arms with the stature of someone who clearly wasn’t helping.
Chloe could feel the steam building under her scalp.
“Oh, really? Then why don’t you come up with a plan, Lieutenant? Aren’t you the boss? My coach here?” she shot back, her voice rising with each word. “Or better yet—why don’t you take my place? Go ahead! I’ll gladly trade with you, right here, right now!”
Yuri sighed apologetically. He put a hand to his chin, then gently swiped his fingers over his fake mustache, deep in contemplation.
"Well, your alibi says you have a great deal of respect for our veterans who fought for us during the Wars. Maybe heightening the sense of patriotism could be worthwhile— and this country definitely lacks it. But no, maybe we leave that for the interview session."
He sighed again and began circling her as he spoke. "That would look good for Windsor. Hence, the country looks good. But a talent—" Yuri gave her a look and stopped, letting a tinge of haughtiness slip into his voice. A smirk tugged at his lips, clearly signaling an idea forming. Chloe noticed it and instinctively braced herself.
"There has to be something. I know you can't sing. I've heard you a couple of times, and my ears have taken it as a personal offense."
"Y—YOU BRAT—"
"You'd be terrible at magic tricks too—"
"I hope you're going somewhere with all of this," Chloe burst out again, her patience wearing dangerously thin.
Suddenly, Yuri’s grin lit up like a child’s in a candy store. He bumped his fist into his other palm, eyes sparkling. “That’s it!” he exclaimed.
Chloe crossed her arms, already dreading whatever nonsense was about to follow.
“Back when we were little,” Yuri began animatedly, “Yor used to sing me nursery rhymes to help me sleep—or when I got sick” His grin stretched wide, nostalgic for half a second, before snapping back to focus. “Anyway, as I said, I’ve heard you missing a note or two around the office—”
He raised a finger, tapping it thoughtfully against his cheek while Chloe's vein threatened to pop. “There was this one time when Yor was washing the dishes, and as she scrubbed them clean—like no dish has ever been scrubbed—the glass made a tune from the contact with the water and her fingers. Like a flute!”
Chloe and the First Lieutenant exchanged a long, silent look.
"There's no way I won't be disqualified. I thought you were a child prodigy, Lieutenant!"
Twilight and Franky observed from a far, posing as technicians who were running lighting tests above the opera hall's open stage. Yuri and Chloe seemed to be going in circles in their strange ritual spats.
"What are the chances that what the contestants said about how Brayzen got the deal is accurate?" Twilight asked, just as stoic as he was standing. Next to him, Franky sighed, pulling on the cables and labeling them carefully.
"I oughta check back with my buddy, The Sniffer, but that would cost us a little more than that cheap liquor you gave me," Franky said, not bothering to look away from Chloe, watching her with silent fascination.
"The Sniffer?" Twilight asked while adjusting the dashboard to place a few microphones.
"What? Not everybody got that smooth code name like yours! The man has the nose of a hound! He's a Bayan legend, alright!" Franky paused before grinning at how lovely Chloe had looked when she kicked the shin of that damned Yuri Briar. "But it will cost you. WISE, I mean—"
"Are you sure this isn’t to fund the Bank of Franklin?" Loid said disinterestedly.
"Naaah, I can think of something better. You’ve met this Chloe once, right?" Franky grinned to himself.
"Seems like you’ve got a death wish. I can’t interfere, though," Twilight added reluctantly. His gaze narrowed toward the stage, watching her and his brother-in-law interact. He had a strange feeling about it. It was almost as if he couldn’t read what her real intentions were just as last time. If he didn’t know she was part of the SSS, he could’ve sworn she was just a regular citizen.
Both looked at the officers. Yuri had yelled something at Chloe while tangling himself in the train of her night dress.
"The heart wants what it wants, Twilight," Franky whispered, his words dipped in reverent awe.
Norenberc, Northern Bayan
Miss Ostania Beauty, Day 2
By the time Chloe had made her way back to the suite, it was almost time for the alarm clock to go off. The day's schedule featured a dress fitting for the final gown and ballroom dance lessons. Postam and she walked quietly to the dressing rooms, with Chloe fighting back a streak of yawns. When they arrived, Lilly Ann and other's were already there.
Lilly waved toward Chloe, clad in her lingerie, which made her stutter an awkward hello. She gulped hard, knowing what this entailed. She could already hear it in the back of her earpiece. Her own robe was closed, tightly secured by her arms in silent reluctance to uncover.
This is humiliating.
She closed her eyes, standing in front of her assigned vanity.
Yuri and her team were on probably the ones with the clearest signal. However, since it was also paired with the Bayanese SSS jurisdiction, there were at least ten other teams linked to their transmission. She couldn’t hear them, but the overlapping chatter in her earpiece was unmistakable, growing louder the moment her robe threatened to come off.
Yuri was slouched in the van, expression sharp. His hand rested on the volume dial as he waited for Chloe to debrief him on what else their team might need to investigate. However, through his earpiece, he could hear Chloe’s ragged breathing.
“Is there anything wrong, Officer?” Yuri asked flatly.
His question seemed to catch her off guard and he noticed how she straightened her posture on the visuals. She looked hesitant, and she couldn’t stop chewing her lip.
“I-Is there any other way I can do this? Without everyone in the regional offices getting a glimpse of— I can’t do this, Lieutenant!” Chloe whispered desperately, discreetly untying and re-tightening the knot of her robe.
“You’re the only one out there, Chloe. There’s a reason you were chosen,” Yuri said, half-chiding. “Just move quickly so we can get to the next phase. Ask questions! Get answers!” He added, a little too enthusiastically at the thought of getting out of the van himself.
Chloe nodded, deciding to get it over with in one deep breath. She closed her eyes and let the robe slide off her shoulders while the camera remained in place, now hidden beneath an eye-shaped choker.
On the screen, the lack of tint made no match for the glow of her shoulders—tiny dots of shimmer like dusting the edge of her cleavage like glitter. Chloe kept her eyes shut, praying not to hear anything outrageous, unwilling to let the robe fall completely.
A sudden crack in her earpiece made her shriek.
“Gkt…akw— infss!! It’s an o—dsdd!”
Yuri was definitely yelling something. Chloe clutched the robe shut at once, wishing she could vanish on the spot.
In the van, Yuri had practically leapt at the screen, refusing to take even a glance as he blocked the view from the rest of the team—who had suddenly abandoned their tasks to sneak a look at the monitor.
“Geez, Lieutenant, relax! We don’t wanna see Officer Chloe— you’re blocking the rest of the hotties!” one officer complained.
Yuri shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass, nearly hissing through his teeth.
“Aren’t you supposed to be typing?! Last I checked, you don’t need a view of anything! Get back to work!”
Yuri straightened himself back, clacking on the typewriter while Chloe moved toward the contestants. Silently, he let out a breath of relief. Strangely enough, he felt calmer now that she was away from the camera’s view.
Linda and Penny appeared on the screen next, drawing a few whistles from the men at the back. Postam, wearing a lacy green bustier, had just finished getting her mascara done. She leaned toward Chloe with an exaggerated giggle, the sound loud and sticky like a bag of cookies being opened.
"How sly, Miss Friedeburg! Sneaking a guy into the hotel, huh?"
Sally spun around, nearly bumping into Chloe’s shoulder. “WHAT? How did you sneak out?!”
Bridget pulled Chloe closer so Sally could get a good look at her shocked face.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she squeaked, arms crossing defensively. Inside, panic clawed at her.
Linda chimed in again, her grin gleaming like she’d uncovered a scandal. “She had a hot date on our balcony! Went missing for hours with some guy! Don’t you dare deny it, Charlotte— I saw you!”
Lilly Ann gasped, eyes round with scandalized delight. “I–Is this true, Charlotte?! That’s against the rules!”
Postam's voice lilted with theatrical outrage. “He had the most criminal jaw I’ve ever seen! Honestly, he looked like he could kill someone with that glare! Kinda creepy—but I can’t blame you, Friedeburg.”
Shit. So she had seen Yuri.
“Go, Charlotte!” Penny jeered, sidling up beside her with a devilish grin. She nudged Chloe’s shoulder playfully. “So? How was he? Must’ve been wild, judging by all that yawning you’ve been doing.”
“It’s not what you think! He’s not—” Chloe yelped, cornered by the wall of women circling her like sharks scenting gossip. They looked far too vibrant for this early in the morning — all eager, glowing, ready to feast on scandal.
I need to make something up.
“Go on, then! Who’s the mystery man, Charlotte?!” Miss Bautzenberg pressed, bouncing on her toes. Lilly Ann’s eyes were so wide she could’ve passed for an interrogator herself.
Chloe sighed, already dreading whatever Yuri would have to say about this later.
“He’s— His name’s Yan. He’s my coach. And… a childhood friend,” she added solemnly, hoping the dose of nostalgia would earn her some sympathy.
The women leaned in closer, grinning.
Bridget squinted at her, then gasped, “Bullshit! Charlotte, you’re blushing!”
“I am SO NOT!” Chloe blurted, mortified, trying to cough her way out of it — mostly so Yuri wouldn’t get any ideas on his end of the feed.
She waved a hand, trying to recover. “Anyway— he’s a family friend, okay? Just… a little overprotective. He wanted to make sure I was fine. Like friends do. And, because it's his job! That’s all!”
Miss Münch leaned on her shoulder, whispering close to her. “Sure. Friends you have sex with—”
Chloe screeched out a morbid laugh, stomping her foot so loudly it drew the attention of the other contestants. She swore she imagined a few chuckles through her earpiece, but she was so nervous she didn't realize the silence on the other end. Yuri was probably offended—fuming at the outrageous statement. Chloe wanted the earth to swallow her whole.
“Golly! You’re hilarious! Like— I’m—”
“Okay, I think that’s enough, you guys. You’re gonna make Charlotte all tense for the dance lessons!” Miss Wittenbrück jumped in, trying to preserve what little was left of her dignity.
"Like hell I would do that man!" Chloe yelled awkwardly.
In the van, Yuri adjusted himself in his seat after his own outburst, noticing that he had accidentally disconnected the wires linked to Chloe’s signal. Now, the women were laughing around Chloe, gesturing with their hands as if they were measuring something.
Yuri raised his brow. How odd, he thought, just as he plugged back the chord to the dashboard.
Chloe managed through rehearsals and figured out how to pass information to her team without meeting up with Yuri. Fortunately enough, he had been assigned to scour the stage for any anomalies as a penalty for having lost part of the transmission.
When nighttime came, Postam had already put on an eye mask, skipping the pleasantries of sharing a room—like bidding her good night. Chloe had tied her hair with a ribbon to keep the extensions in place and changed into her pajamas. On her nightstand, the tiny listening device was switched off, offering momentary respite.
Just as she settled comfortably under the sheets, another set of knocks echoed—this time at her and Linda’s door.
Chloe stood up reluctantly, tiptoeing to the peephole.
A bright grin stretched across the fisheye glass along with her other, wider assets. Lilly Ann took up nearly all the space, bouncing giddily with two cups in her hands and a can of some type of beverage.
Chloe muttered under her breath, opening the door quietly so as not to disturb Postam.
“L-Lilly! W-What a surprise!” she answered haltingly.
“Can I come in? I brought hot chocolate!” the woman explained, moving forward and sitting on Chloe’s bed. She was also in pajamas but had her hair tightly secured with a band. She looked even younger without makeup—one of those classical beauties, soft-skinned, with full lips tinted by a natural cherry glow.
“Sure! Y-You’re already here,” Chloe smiled, the stretch fading as she closed the door.
“The other girls didn’t let me finish! This is dairy-free—no bloating whatsoever,” Lilly said bashfully. She began pouring the chocolate into one of the cups and offered it to Chloe. She took a tiny swig, cautiously avoiding a real sip in case it had been spiked with something.
“Is it good, Charlotte?” Lilly Ann asked again.
Chloe nodded with all her willpower despite it tasting like sewer water.
"I'm so happy!" the dark-haired woman sighed, ironically downcast. She crossed her legs and slouched her shoulders, waiting for Chloe to join her, expecting she’d ask what was wrong. Chloe sat next to her, mimicking her posture and scratching her arm nervously.
Maybe this was a chance to get information.
"So… you never got to tell me why you’re here in this contest," Chloe tried asking genuinely. Lilly Ann shifted her body toward her and exhaled wearily.
"You’ll think it’s dumb. You’re so cool and collected. You want to do good for children. How could that compare to what—"
"Hey now, listen," Chloe raised her hand reassuringly but hesitated to touch the woman, so she pulled it back and placed it over her knees. "I don’t think what you want means less than what I want. Whatever it is, I’m sure you have a good reason, and that's good enough as it is. And if I say so, you have just as much chance to win as anyone else."
"That's easy for you to say—you know what you want to do. I'm not really sure why I'm here. I-I think I just want to prove to my family that I'm more than an airhead, I suppose. They say I shouldn't have come here, that this will only attract terrible suitors and chase off all the decent ones—!" Lilly sighed.
The more Lilly talked, the more she proved her innocence in Chloe’s eyes. Her motives seemed like those of any other woman in her twenties—worries about her future, her reputation, disappointing her family. Chloe could relate to all of that more than she could admit out loud.
She noticed the woman’s eyes watering slightly. Chloe pulled out a handkerchief, and Lilly comically blew her nose with it. Her face flushed from all the tears and the effort to keep it together. She appeared a little embarrassed, so she shook her head and smiled, changing topics swiftly.
"I'm sorry. I guess I'm just nervous for tomorrow." Suddenly, Lilly Ann’s expression brightened. "Oh! Charlotte, I can’t wait to see your talent! You’ve been practicing so hard!" The woman scooted closer, bouncing just enough to make the mattress squeak. At this, Linda huffed and turned to her side in silent protest at her beauty sleep being interrupted.
"It’s no big deal. I don’t think the judges will like it," Chloe said defeatedly. Lilly Ann pouted, clearly waiting for more. Might as well follow the joys of conversation, Chloe thought. "You’ll see it tomorrow. It’s embarrassing—"
"No! I’m sure they’ll love it!" Lilly Ann pressed, leaning expectantly.
"Ah—well, at least it’s not anything cheesy like baton twirling or—" Chloe stopped mid-sentence, noticing Lilly Ann had deflated on the spot. "It’s— That’s your talent, isn’t it? Fuck!"
"Do you mind?!" Linda yelled across the room. She pulled the covers over her body as if they could cloak her from the noise.
"It’s fine," Lilly whispered with a sad gleam. "I’ve always thought baton twirlers were so cool! And, well— a friend of mine told me about a show she’d seen in Furanz. There were different dancers and acrobatic routines, and baton twirling was part of it— But! The number had a challenge— they lit their batons on fire and performed this raunchy routine with a gorgeous set of lingerie."
Chloe blinked at the idea, worried how far they would let her get away with a number like that without raising a few brows or, worse—getting disqualified. Maybe she could keep the number less enticing, focus on other ways to showcase her raw charisma. She bit her lip at the contradiction.
No. Lilly might as well use the chance to do what she wants. Chloe could meddle for her, just in case somebody tried to use her as leverage. She moved in a man’s world, after all, getting through day by day with her head held high, doing what not many were given the chance to.
Chloe decided to encourage her further.
At one of Norenberc's bars, Yor had her hand clamped around a glass of white wine, staring aimlessly at her reflection. The women and she had gone shopping after sightseeing, deciding to end their day at a family bar near the pageant’s premises.
Camilla observed her quietly for a while before clearing her throat.
"If you're going to be mysterious about it, you might as well have stayed back home, Yor," the blonde chided. Sharon put out her cigarette and waved for the waiter to come back with a menu.
"I know that look, Yor," Sharon spoke, doing her best not to pressure her. Yor blinked for a second and then smiled gracefully. They'd been concerned about her, lessening all their previous teasing into what seemed like genuine appreciation. Yor felt warm and suddenly guilty for not sharing what she felt. But how could she? How was she supposed to tell them she had just accepted Loid in her heart the way a woman did? As if that weren’t expected of her already.
"It's— I'm—" Yor sighed, substituting some of her original thoughts for less romantic ones. "Loid keeps surprising me in any way he can. The thing is— I don't know if he knows how much I appreciate what he does for me. Somehow— I feel like I fall short whenever I think of giving back all of what he gives me."
Millie scooted closer and rested her head on her chin. "But he married you, Yor. I wish I had someone like that who doesn't scare easily! Someone who can handle the romantic in me!"
"She's right. And you're not supposed to feel like you have to try; you do it because you're genuinely happy," Sharon shared in a soft bid. "Are you?"
Yor clamped her hands, thinking of how many times she had been asked that since she started living as a Forger. Anya had asked, and she had answered instantly. Most recently, Yuri—prying yet again, but more careful about his reservations. Yes, she was happy. She wanted to tell him that, to let him know, and to know for herself if that knowledge could be enough for Loid.
However, there was a bigger press of the brakes that halted her from enjoying the acceptance. Hemlock had been calling her out on it almost daily.
With love came acceptance, but acceptance could also lead to losing all of what only life could take away—just as quickly. If she couldn't say love yet, she could still show it. The question was how.
"Well, that’s that," Camilla offered as she took one sip of her glass and cracked her wrist. Yor noticed the light dimming out of her gaze, as if she weren’t the only one in a tight spot. She leaned over sweetly, trying to show the same attention.
"Camilla, are you happy?" Yor giggled, noting how bright Camilla’s face had gotten. She stiffened and scoffed.
"O-Of course! What kind of question is that? I have a wonderful boyfriend…" she said, lowering her voice at the final word. It almost sounded like a complaint. Millie shook her head and spat aloud,
"How many years now?"
"S-Shut up!" Camilla yelled, emptying her pint to hide her discomfort.
Norenberc Opera House Gardens
Miss Ostania Beauty Day 3
Chloe twirled awkwardly as she pulled the edge of her skirt a little lower, failing to cover the start of her safety shorts. For the talent show, she had been put in a classic Bayanese dress—only significantly shorter and bolder than normal standards. Her hair had been pinned up into two pigtails, each laced with bows. Her long stockings rose over her thighs, securely attached with a discreet but show-stopping red garter.
In the end, she had resigned herself to using Yuri’s cheap trick of glass melodies, choosing a classic nursery rhyme to pay credit to Mrs. Forger. By a stroke of luck, she had been placed almost at the end of the show, which gave her enough time to surveil for any suspicious activity.
“Our team and Division Fifty-seven have checked for flammables or strange objects in our perimeter. Should be safe enough, but it doesn’t hurt to keep your eyes peeled, Officer,” Yuri said from afar. Chloe straightened herself and nodded.
“And, I’ll keep reminding you of our codes, Lieutenant. Just in case, I can play their location over the tunes if I see anything.”
At last, a loud cheer burst from the open stage.
“Ready?” Yuri asked before letting out a clear instruction. “Do it for Yor, Chloe.”
“Heh. I’ll do it for little Miss Anya… and Yor.” She grinned, playing along with Yuri’s nonsense. The mood felt lighter, as if they were almost anticipating action.
The first number had Miss Postam arriving on stage with a gala dress long enough to be a red carpet on its own. Her number consisted of a song from the regional folklore, only tweaked to fit an operetta. Chloe exhaled.
That is a tough act to follow. But act cool, your spot is already secured, Chloe.
Right after Postam, Sally took center stage as she conveniently followed the trail of Linda’s dress, placing her right in the spotlight. Her number was a cheery tune on the clarinet.
By the time her number ended, it was only Lilly Ann’s turn before hers.
The woman had her hair up in a ponytail and her back facing the audience, hiding the raging red of the sequin bra she wore under a soldier-blue pin-up uniform. She stood in place and extended her baton to the sky, waiting for the music to start her cue.
Upbeat music rang through every speaker near the audience. Lilly turned on her red heels and welcomed the crowd with a cheeky wink as her hands executed a twirl before she moved her hips in coordinated motion.
Faces quickly turned red at the choreography, eyes stuck on her figure like glue. Yuri’s team and the First Lieutenant scanned their expressions, looking for something suspicious to give them away. Meanwhile, Chloe observed Lilly’s number with a beaming grin.
The devil’s bra! Show them, Lilly!
Yuri moved against the crowds like he was swimming in an ocean of endless fish. They had definitely underestimated the amount of people the event had gathered. He frowned, taking his position before he could reach the left side of the barricade, in case anyone dared to run through that direction.
Lilly cheered as the music turned slow at the bridge of the song and threw the baton into the air. As it swirled above her, the crowd gasped when it lit at its cusp before falling expertly into her hand. The music grew just as loud as the cheers did, rising to match the enthusiasm she had managed to spark.
Chloe's smile vanished the moment she realized her position.
Once Lilly's number came to an end, she looked toward her, jumping and mouthing a sweet thank you from afar. Chloe swallowed nervously.
The host appeared on stage, and with a call of his hand, the audience returned to calm, nodding among each other.
"Officer. It's your turn now. Good luck," the First Lieutenant said assuredly. He looked at Yuri and nodded for confirmation.
"And now! For the very first time—let's give it up for Miss Friedeburg! Charlotte May Charleston!" the host's voice boomed again, the crowd going wild at the announcement. Chloe tensed, but after a quick run-through of her notes, she regained control over the tempest of nerves inside her.
As Chloe appeared on stage, pulling the service cart with her, the audience began to murmur between laughs. Their expressions were mostly ones of intrigue at the ensemble—twenty-four glasses of different sizes and widths, including a pitcher filled with cold water.
Chloe felt sweat running down her back even though there was barely any space between her costume and her skin.
"Miss Friedeburg appears to be calling for happy hour, it seems," the host joked through the microphone. The crowd laughed along, doing nothing to ease her nervousness.
Chloe raised a hand to block the light in her face, but it did nothing to clear her vision. This wasn’t good. How on earth was she supposed to spot anything strange from the stage? She shook her head and squinted beneath the lights. She had to do this.
"Hello, Bayan!" Chloe’s voice cheered through the mic stand at center stage. She bowed her head and arms before doing a twirl of her altered dress, giving the audience a quick glimpse of her garters. The reaction wasn’t as loud compared to Lilly’s number, but Chloe smiled at the few woos she managed to catch.
"Uh—I—" Chloe stuttered, knocking her mic by mistake and eliciting a loud screech from the speakers. "Sorry! I don’t have a fancy number like the talented gals you just saw, but—I hope you can sing along!"
Yuri was unsure whether to hold back the urge to scold her for her lack of seriousness or burst out laughing. Almost on cue, she glanced toward him as if she had read his mind.
Yuri groaned and leaned against the railing.
Chloe refocused and smiled, dipping her finger into a glass of water before joking into the mic. "Cool. Room temperature—" Her hands tittered. An awkward cough served as a start. "Okay!"
Chloe’s finger danced slowly along the rim of the glass, producing a sweet tune—the softest sound she could manage. It was far more soothing compared to the last noise she had made. Swiftly, her hands intercalated between the glasses, perfectly attuned to the sequence of the melody. Soon, the silent crowd began gasping soft encouragements at Chloe’s demonstration.
She smiled, transitioning to a change of notes to suit the start of another well-known song.
Yuri’s jaw instantly dropped.
"Is—is that—" He gulped, directing the question to anyone on their transmission.
Suddenly, everyone in the audience stood up and began nodding and singing along to the sounds.
"Did she tell you she was gonna play that?" the First Lieutenant asked, equally stunned.
"No! She was supposed to play—it was—" Yuri choked between words, suddenly standing straight as she kept hitting the notes almost too expertly.
"OOOOOOOOSTAAAAAAANIAAAAAAAA!" the audience bellowed at the final drop. Chloe bowed again and drank the last glass of water before giving another reverence. At last, she found swaggering confidence.
The crowd roared louder than ever.
"Well! What do you know! What a way to unite us today! Isn't that what this country is about!" the host applauded. Chloe’s skirt bounced in small jumps of happiness—but just as she was basking in her triumph, a streak of light suddenly caught her attention.
Discreetly, Chloe stepped toward the front of the stage, away from the mic, whispering into her coms. "Red Eagle Eye, you might wanna check out that wizard at one o'clock—he’s wearing a cape and a brown hat."
"Chloe, everyone is wearing a hat—" Yuri muttered, already moving away from his position toward what she had indicated. Like clockwork, the suspect tried to slip away, almost as if he knew he'd been noticed. Yuri tried to move faster, but the crowd wouldn't budge, and he had to remain calm to avoid alerting anyone that something was definitely wrong.
"He's moving toward the stage, Lieutenant," Chloe urged. She pretended to bask in the attention as she kept bowing, stalling before anyone could make her get off the stage. "I see him. He's—he's got something inside his coat. Yuri, I'm gonna take him out—"
"Officer—wait for my call!" Yuri barked back, barely two rows behind the man. Chloe took a few steps backward as if preparing to dive. Finally, the man reached inside his pocket, and that silver gleam confirmed her claims.
Suddenly, Chloe yelled into the crowd, "HE’S ARMED! EVERYBODY DOWN!"
At the back, the First Lieutenant threw off his headphones and rushed into the audience. Yuri prepared to leap from behind, only to be pushed farther away by the panicking crowd.
"Shit! He's gonna get away, you genius!" Yuri spat with a sharp, frustrated growl.
"Not on my watch!" Chloe screamed before she sprang into the air, tackling the man to the ground and knocking him out with a punch.
Manicured nails tapped and turned the dial of the TV’s volume as the news anchor gave a summary of the first show. It froze on Chloe mid-frame, at the exact moment she decided to jump off the staff platform and onto the audience.
Their team was gathered in a conference room tucked away from the press. Chloe was still in her Bayanese attire; the only thing that had changed was how loose one of her pigtails had become. She had her arms crossed defensively as she tried not to look concerned, though she was sure she was about to hear an earful from Mrs. Brayzen, the Captain, and Yuri.
The TV kept rolling with the interview the news station had pulled from Chloe, while underneath the frame the headline read, “Miss Ostania Beauty’s Miss Friedeburg Leapt Off Stage!” in bold letters.
In the end, the suspect was a man who had simply been trying to fetch his lighter to light a cigarette. The First Lieutenant’s face had gone pale at the cringeworthy comments Chloe was giving the reporter.
“Smoking is a disgusting habit. No Ostanian should smoke, let alone blow the smell onto innocent non-smokers—”
Sophia finally turned off the TV and stared blankly at her. She pressed a hand to her forehead as if it might cool her anger, but it was fruitless. She slammed both hands down on the table before the SSS team, not caring that she could be charged with an offense for it.
“The man was just lighting a cigarette!” Mrs. Brayzen yelled.
Chloe tried to intercede awkwardly. “Ma’am, the man had a weapon. He bypassed security with that thing. He had a sword!” she insisted. Next to her, Yuri sighed, gritting his teeth.
“Miss Friedeburg,” Sophia warped her tone into a mocking one, “this is Bayan! Everybody owns a sword!” she hollered, exasperated.
“On duty, we’re going to assume any man with a weapon is a suspect.”
“Actually—” Yuri began, puffing with annoyance. “While you were being interviewed, we got a tip, ran it through our records, and it appears the note belongs to a woman. All the cutouts seem to come from women’s beauty magazines.” Yuri glanced at Chloe, noting how deflated her expression had become. He was angry, but he couldn’t help feeling responsible too. If he had reached the man in time, he could have prevented this in the first place.
“Is this a joke to you? I thought this contest was safe from these terrorists! Isn’t your sole purpose to keep this country safe?!” Mrs. Brayzen shrilled. “This is preposterous! You’re the SSS! Not only do you meddle in my contest, you make it everything I am trying so hard to overturn! They’re calling this the most vulgar representation our country has seen in the last years!”
For some reason, Chloe felt bile rising in her throat. The only reason all of this was deemed vulgar was because of how easy it was to take these women as a joke. As if all of them were airheads twirling in fancy dresses, worried only about having sun in their pools. They were more than that—more than a short skirt and a racy bra.
“I want a word with Miss Officer. Alone!” Sophia spat. The First Lieutenant apologized and called for Yuri, then gave Chloe a neutral nod. She wasn’t sure whether they were acting out of obligation—or because they were just as disappointed with her.
As soon as they left the room, Chloe exhaled, allowing herself to be honest. She had fucked up. She was expected to apologize and do better.
“Mrs. Brayzen, I take full responsibility for this—”
“I know what your type thinks,” Sophia spoke raggedly. “That this is a waste of time. A waste of tax money, perhaps. That it should be invested in funding your incompetent ranks instead. I bet you also think it’s tasteless—uncultured. But I refuse to let everyone agree with those assumptions. I know you move in a world of men, so I bet you can at least understand this: this is just another way to show our power, Miss Castle. You throw punches and make men cry, but I bet they don’t even listen to you. Do they? Am I wrong?”
“You’ve got this all wrong—”
“No. I’m right on the money. Open your eyes, honey. You’re just like us—only beauty is our weapon. You’ve been just as used as any one of us. And I refuse to give them the satisfaction of being right.”
Chloe pursed her lips and curled her fists, her heart racing with every word Sophia hurled at her.
As a final warning, the older woman stopped in front of her and lifted Chloe’s jaw with a hard grip.
“You and your team get in my way once more,” she said coldly, “and I will kill you.”
Chloe exited the room, yanking off her bows and tossing her sash away in a fit of frustration. It seemed the rest of the team had already moved on to follow the lead, leaving only Yuri behind—likely to keep her in line. She tightened her fists as she walked toward him, ready to apologize, ready to tell him what had just happened. Something in her gut told her there was more to Mrs. Brayzen than met the eye. She just needed help—someone to listen to her, someone to disprove everything that woman had assumed.
Her team trusted her. They had trusted her many times before—even after she’d managed to screw things up, like today.
But just as she reached Yuri’s corner, he moved away, walking silently toward the garden maze. Chloe realized that everything that had happened had made her lose track of time. It was already dark, but somehow it felt darker because of Yuri’s indifference.
She puffed, running after him, the words spilling out in desperate heaps.
“Lieutenant, I’m sorry— I shouldn’t—”
“Yes. You shouldn’t have.”
“No, Yuri, I mean it— I keep messing things up! Letting you down, and I should trust you— You’re my—”
“Officer.” Yuri stopped, still not turning to face her. “Let’s just focus on tomorrow. We don’t have anything else to discuss.”
“Yuri. Sophia just threatened me. She said she would kill me if we got in her way. That’s gotta be an offense, right? We’ve arrested people for even less than that— If we could check on her instead—”
"Chloe. Stick to our assignment. I'll meet with you tomorrow in Redensburg." Yuri spoke coldly.
"Lieutenant! Listen— Yuri…" Chloe called, watching his figure disappear into the shadows.
Redensburg, Central Bayan
Miss Ostania Beauty — Day 4
Twilight rubbed the sides of his head, trying to soothe the headache he’d gotten from following the SSS’s lead into nothing. Ironically, WISE and the SSS had reached a similar conclusion. Having a woman as their suspect didn’t narrow the suspect pool at all—it only made them turn in circles, just as they had for the last couple of days. The lead wasn’t even something they could confirm as truth. If someone clever was behind this, who could guarantee it wasn’t a red herring for a bigger fish, using one of the contestants as a diversion?
A cup of coffee slid over his newspaper. Franky gave him a thumbs-up, approving of the taste, then carefully nudged the cup of milk within his reach.
Strangely, the action made Twilight’s lips curl up at the memory it stirred.
He’d been accompanying his coffee with milk for a little over a year now.
He glanced toward the arriving cars, hoping—privately—to catch a glimpse of scarlet and midnight.
Chloe pulled up the zipper of her boots and settled into a yellow miniskirt with a blouse cut out along the sides of her waist. It was her most daring outfit since the Bayanese dress, yet somehow, it became one of her favorites. The exposed skin made her feel as if she were rebelling despite her team’s orders — as if it were a way to say she could handle things without their help.
Chloe decided to follow her gut. She’d find a way to get dirt on Mrs. Brayzen while looking unrefined by Ostanian standards.
Black gloves pulled open the trunk of a parked car. It was somewhere along Redenburg’s outskirts, secluded from the bustle of the city, across the Donuh River.
The mysterious silhouette opened a briefcase and handled a bronze headband fitted with wires and red lights that blinked every three seconds. They walked through the field until they reached a women’s mannequin, half-hidden in the overgrowth. The device was placed atop its head as they recited the passage that had just appeared in the second stage of the pageant.
Yuri’s voice rang aloud, reading each word with the same apprehension the suspect had shown back at his hideout.
To the blissfully ignorant, I write again from the north because you misnumbered the signs.
The suspect drove to a safe distance, stopping one curve ahead—now hidden by a steep hill. The mannequin was out of reach but easy to spot from the distance.
Hark, the angels roar. Misinformed sinners and liars, mistaking misery for joy—
At Redenburg’s stage, Yuri passed the note down to his Captain.
And so scared. You, miss divine inspiration, will fly your robes into the sky, if missiles and tears amidst the crying.
The suspect pressed a red button. The mannequin burst into pieces after a sharp bang, red clouds blooming and dissipating into the dark sky—now orange as they danced with smoke and bits of plastic.
Yuri clenched his fists, sweat pooling beneath his shirt.
The danger hadn’t lessened. It was just as vibrant as the fireworks he had once deemed a weapon. Chloe had been wrong that time too. But was he to say she would be wrong this time?
Maybe he had to take a leap of faith and trust his own gut.