Chapter 2: Unsocial Visit
Argrave stared at a plaque on the side of the wall. It read ‘Nikoletta of Monticci.’ He carried a stack of documents wrapped by a few strings in his right hand. He felt calm. All of the faces that he saw in the Tower he recognized. Indeed, there was nothing to suggest that anything had changed from the original ‘Heroes of Berendar’ in terms of setting. He had even gleaned the date from passing conversation. It was a month before Acolytes had to submit their research to the Order, and therefore, near a month and a half before the game began in earnest.
While cleaning, he had found a peculiarly well-hidden stack of papers, which now rested in his hands. In the original plot, Induen of Vasquer, Argrave’s half-brother and heir to the throne, used his influence within the Order to steal Nikoletta’s thesis. When her research was stolen, she presumed it lost, and consequently tried to remake it hastily. The remake was deemed a shabby copy of the original copy Argrave held—thus, Nikoletta was expelled.
It would do him no good to gain the enmity of one of the main characters. Nikoletta was the daughter of a duke. Argrave adjusted the stack of papers pulled his gloves tighter across his fingers. Then, he raised his hand to the oaken door and knocked thrice.
He looked around as time passed. People stared at him, he noticed, but they refused to meet his eyes. His reputation was already quite bad, it seemed. After receiving no answer, Argrave knocked again.
More time passed. Argrave wondered if she might be out. He knocked one last time.
The door swung open, and he was greeted by a fierce glare from a very disheveled-looking black-haired woman. Nikoletta had not been expecting his presence, evidently, and she lifted her head up very slowly to look up at him.
“Cousin,” he greeted calmly. Come what may, Argrave always had confidence in his words.
“U-uh…” she fixed her hair and stood with a straighter posture. “Hello, Argrave. I thought you were my friend… forgive my appearance.”
“I am not your friend,” Argrave noted. “How hurtful.”
“That’s… erm.” She took a step back. “I didn—“
“I kid,” Argrave interrupted. “You were expecting Mina of Veden, I presume. That one always seems to hang around you.”
Nikoletta stared at him blankly, eyes wide. Her eyes were a dark, rich pink. Argrave found the color pretty.
“May I come in?” Argrave asked when she did not speak.
Argrave’s words brought her back to attention. “Now isn’t a good time. I’m in the middle of something,” she said firmly, grasping the door as though to shut it.
Argrave had a notion as to what that ‘something’ was—frantically trying to recreate the research that had been stolen from her.
“I would not come here for a social visit,” Argrave said cryptically.
Nikoletta’s hand fell away from the door and she stepped back. She looked at what Argrave was holding, scrutinizing him carefully. After some time, she pushed the door open and gestured. “Come in.”
Argrave nodded and stepped forward. He failed to duck low enough to pass beneath the door and bumped his forehead. He cleared his throat in the awkwardness that followed, and then proceeded onward into her dorm room.
Her room was quite messy, but then Argrave had been expecting it to be so. Nikoletta was a playable character, so her personality was somewhat determined by player choice. By and large, though, she had consistent personality traits. She had been disorganized in the game, too. That these details aligned made Argrave more confident.
Books were scattered everywhere. Crumpled parchments lined the floor. Research materials and equipment were plastered all over the place. Perhaps the only saving grace of this den of wretchedness was the lack of half-eaten food. Besides Nikoletta’s bed and desk, there was one set of furniture in the room—two couches parallel to each other, a low-lying table in between them.
Nikoletta walked past Argrave and picked up a stack of books, clearing room for the two to sit.
“Have a seat,” she gestured.
Argrave stared at the couch like it was a snarling dog, a blank look in his dead gray eyes.
“I will stand.” Argrave held out a hand to refuse. “I will not take much of your time, so you can resume what you were doing in short order. Though… I suspect you will not need to.”
Nikoletta glared at him, gaze flitting between the wrapped documents in his hand and his eyes. She wasn’t slow-witted—he had given enough hints for her to piece things together. She, too, refused to sit.
“Here.” Argrave held the documents out, tired of dancing around the issue. “Your stolen research.”
“Damn it all, you bastard!” she shouted, tearing them from his hands. “I knew it. I knew that you stole it!” She guarded them in her arms delicately.
“Well, I am a bastard in a literal sense,” Argrave conceded, pulling his gloves tighter as he stepped back. “Figuratively, though, I must disagree. I also did not steal your thesis.”
“Ohoh,” she half-laughed. “You didn’t steal these papers. You just happened to find them. How am I to believe that?”
“Half-right.” Argrave shook his head. “I did not steal them. They were given to me by Induen. My half-brother, your cousin, the heir presumptive of Vasquer. You may know him, he’s rather famous.”
She walked a fair distance away and set down the papers on her desk angrily. “You expect me to believe the crown prince took off with my dissertation?”
Argrave shook his head again. “No, I imagine he has people for that; thieves and such. Why would he do it himself?”
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