Her first impression, as the woman stood in the doorway, was of someone gravely ill, teetering on the brink of death.
Deep shadows bruised the skin beneath her eyes, her cheeks were hollow, and her long brown hair fell in disarray.
A cashmere scarf was wrapped around her neck, and she wore a dark blue wool coat over a thick sweater, paired with wide-leg trousers.
Her left hand, clad in a leather glove, was pressed against her mouth in a gesture to suppress a cough, while her right forearm steadied her against the doorframe.
Only her face was visible amidst the layers of clothing.
Merely looking at her bundled attire made Ghervil feel a flush of heat.
“Excuse me, is this compartment number 12?”
The voice belonged to a young, surprisingly articulate woman, and though her eyes were bloodshot, they were wide open, revealing a spark of alertness that belied her overall condition.
“You’ve made a mistake. This is number 11; number 12 is further down the corridor.”
“Thank you… *cough*… My apologies, might I trouble you for a sip of water? I ran all the way here and find myself quite parched.”
****
The train lurched into motion, and Ghervil shifted one foot slightly to maintain her balance against the sudden inertia.
“Compartment 12 is just behind you; you’ll find potable water inside.”
“Indeed! It is, after all, a VIP compartment.”
The woman seemed to realize her oversight, rubbing her right shoulder with her left hand.
“I apologize for the disturbance. I wish you a pleasant journey.”
Just as she turned to leave, a white object tumbled from her pocket.
“You dropped something.”
Ghervil bent to retrieve it, but a quicker hand snatched it away before her fingers could make contact.
Yet, in that fleeting second, she clearly saw it: a handkerchief stained with blood at its center.
“Thank you.”
The woman offered a slight smile before continuing down the corridor.
“Wait,” Ghervil called out, stepping into the aisle.
“Ishmele-Esli, that is my name. You may simply call me Esli,” the woman replied, turning back from the threshold of her compartment.
“Miss Esli, are you traveling alone?”
“I have always preferred to journey by myself.”
****
Without further conversation, Ghervil returned to her compartment and closed the door, whereupon Govet-Ghervil immediately sprang onto her shoulder.
“That person is quite dangerous.”
Ghervil settled onto the sofa.
“Yet, I sense no malice from her.”
“She clearly recognized you, which is why she deliberately knocked on your door!”
Govet-Ghervil, indignant, leapt onto the table and fixed Ghervil with an unwavering stare.
“You cannot judge whether someone is good or bad based solely on a first impression; the most wicked are often the most adept at concealment.”
It was hardly surprising that the woman recognized her; nearly everyone boarding here hailed from Mistfall City, and it would not be difficult to identify her if one regularly followed the newspaper descriptions.
“I never asserted she was a good person… I merely wondered if her dropping the handkerchief, and allowing me to see it, was intentional? Did she have some ulterior motive?”
“What about the handkerchief?”
“It had bloodstains.”
“Then that makes it even worse!”
Govet-Ghervil burrowed behind Ghervil, pushing against the sofa back with her hind legs, attempting to make her rise.
“We must find a train attendant immediately and request a change of compartments! Residing next to a murderer is far too perilous!”
Ghervil remained unperturbed, even contemplating leaning back to flatten the startled creature.
‘How did you leap to the conclusion that she’s a murderer?’
‘If she truly were a killer, hearing you shout like that would surely provoke her to silence you.’
‘It’s fortunate the compartment is soundproofed.’
“If she harbored ill intentions towards me, she could have easily forced her way in earlier, especially with no one else around.”
Ghervil gently grasped Govet-Ghervil’s tail, pulling her from behind and placing her on the table.
“She claimed to have run here, yet she wasn’t breathing heavily, which suggests she possesses considerable stamina. Despite her sickly appearance, I might not even be her match, even with a gun.”
“Then why did she show you a bloodied handkerchief?”
“Perhaps she intended it as a warning, to alert me to potential danger aboard this train.”
“I hope I’m merely overthinking it…”
Disregarding Govet-Ghervil’s commotion, she directed her gaze towards the fleeting scenery outside the window.
This was her first train journey in this world, and she had rarely traveled by train before.
It was a novel experience.
The landscape continuously transformed; leaving the city’s towering buildings behind, it gave way to a winding river, nearly a hundred meters wide.
The train traveled along the high cliff edge bordering the river.
From this vantage point, the view stretched unobstructed.
This river, named Agor, flowed adjacent to Mistfall City, with its tributaries weaving through the city itself, contributing significantly to the local fishing industry.
Along the river’s plains, a scattering of villages clustered, surrounded by vast, undulating fields of sunflowers in full bloom. Further on, red-tiled cottages dotted a gentle slope, beneath a sky adorned with clouds of varying sizes.
In the distance, a waterfall cascaded down a cliff, its spray catching the light to form a hundred-meter rainbow.
If she had a camera, Ghervil would have dearly wished to capture this moment.
Noticing the young woman’s disregard, Govet-Ghervil settled onto her lap, pressing down on the hem of her skirt as she dozed, ensuring she would awaken instantly at any disturbance.
Having absorbed enough of the scenery, Ghervil picked up a magazine from the adjacent bookshelf and began to leaf through it.
She had taken her medicine that morning, rendering her unable to comprehend the text, so she contented herself with examining the illustrations.
Most of the pictures depicted famous landmarks and attractions of the cities along the route. She found a book entirely filled with flower illustrations, and as expected, the Blood Rose was absent.
The most significant distinction between a Blood Rose and an ordinary rose lay in its petals, which never fully withered but instead maintained a ‘semi-withered’ state.
In a sense, they achieved an eternal bloom, making it entirely normal for such a miraculous plant, defying biological common sense, not to appear in ordinary botanical texts.
She maintained a basic level of vigilance, refraining from closing her eyes and resting on the sofa while Govet-Ghervil slept.
The compartment door, though seemingly sturdy, could be unlocked by anyone with a key, allowing them to slip in unnoticed.
This vigilance offered the advantage of having Govet-Ghervil stand watch during the night.
****
Time swiftly advanced to the afternoon, and a train attendant arrived with a sumptuous dinner.
Waking to the enticing aromas, Govet-Ghervil realized she had been moved to the bed at some point. Outside the window, the scene was frozen on a station bathed in the glow of the setting sun, bustling with people, the train now at a standstill.
She climbed down from the bed, drew back the curtain, and saw the table laden with food.
“Why didn’t you call me for dinner? Can you possibly finish all this by yourself?”
“What are you doing? You look like a thief.”
Jumping onto the table, she snatched a fried pork chop and popped it into her mouth, then addressed the young woman who stood by the door, her ear pressed against it.
“Shh—”
Ghervil made a quieting gesture towards the furball, continuing to strain her ears for sounds from outside.
In truth, it was nearly impossible to hear anything beyond the compartment, and she had only caught snippets of conversation when the attendant opened the door.
The central figures of the argument were two individuals, one of whom had a valuable item stolen.
He had spotted the thief and apprehended them, demanding compensation.
The person he had seized, however, adamantly denied the accusation.
A heated argument ensued between them.
The crowd’s voices were a cacophony, with people taking sides.
Ghervil found it increasingly difficult to discern their words.
It was human nature to be curious about such spectacles.
Her act of merely eavesdropping from the doorway represented the utmost restraint of her natural inclination.
Govet-Ghervil, equally curious, hopped onto her shoulder.
Just as she was about to grip the young woman’s hair with her greasy front paw, a sharp glance from Ghervil sent her scurrying back.
She only dared to return after washing her paws thoroughly with soap in the washroom area.
“Your hearing is keen; listen closely and tell me what they’re arguing about out there.”
Govet-Ghervil, feigning to use Ghervil’s hair for support, pressed her ear against the solid wooden door, secretly taking a moment to rub her damp paws dry, a subtle act of defiance against the earlier stern look.
Ghervil, too weary to quibble with her, simply waited for an answer.
“I think I hear footsteps…”
Her other ear twitched.
“They’re getting closer!”
In the blink of an eye, she leaped down and scurried inside to hide.
“Excuse me, are you available, Sister Ghervil?”
Opening the door, Ghervil found a very polite female train officer.
“I apologize for disturbing you, but someone over there is in trouble, and she mentioned you are her friend.”