“You gotta believe me, Sevil, thereʼs going to be a murder on the Orient Express! An assassinat!” 

“Yes, Your Highness, I heard you the first time…” The hardworking tailorʼs daughter tied the last knot on the back of Anastasiaʼs dress and spun her over to check her front. “Mm, I’m glad it fits you perfectly.” 

“Ooh~” The princess gazed admirably at her reflection in the mirror before eagerly turning to the waiting Saintess. “Rasputina, Rasputina, what do you think of this dress?” 

In all honesty, Rasputina found it peculiar that she would choose to wear such revealing clothing that flaunted her neckline and ankles, but she couldnʼt deny that Anastasia looked absolutely stunning in the bold dress. 

“Itʼs…” She paused to swallow. “...prepossessing.” 

“Prepos-huh?” Anastasia tilted her head in confusion. “Proposing?” 

“No—” Rasputina choked back her laughter. “I meant to say, you look beautiful, Princess Anastasia.” 

Her lilac eyes widened in pure elation before she hastily averted her gaze and smiled bashfully. “T-thank you…” 

Her demure face made Rasputinaʼs heart skip a beat; hell, if she was still Xavier, she would have been completely smitten with her in that moment and no doubt lust after her…wait, what in the name of the Lord was she thinking? Rasputina shook her head and pushed that ridiculous notion to the back of her mind. 

“If there isnʼt any problems with the clothes, Anastasia, we should take our leave forthwith.” 

Anastasia shook her head to indicate she was satisfied, and they both thanked Sevil for her service. 

Sevil blushed and waved her hands in front of her chest hurriedly. “No, itʼs my honour to be able to assist Your Highness and Rasputina. Allow me to see you to the door, please.” 

“Oh, wait a minute, Sevil.” Rasputina took off her veil and carefully wrapped it around Anastasia’s shoulders like a shawl. “There, now at least you are dressed in some semblance of a princess and not an exhibitionist.” 

“A-an what?” Anastasia mumbled, a look of shock and confusion on her face. 

Rasputina gently pushed her through the door onto the main street. “Nothing, nothing~” 

“Huh…” 

Sevil giggled and gave them a polite farewell bow. “Please have a safe and uneventful journey to the République-sœur, ladies.”

Before the sun set below the horizon, a striking gilded carriage engraved with the empire’s coat of arms arrived at the red brick-and-stone façade of Cetheri Station, where the Orient Express was due to depart from. 

“We have arrived at the Gare de Cetheri, Your Highness and Grace.” The footman opened the door and bowed smartly while the Saintess elegantly alighted from the carriage first. “Your valises are in the No. 1 and 2 first-class sleeping berth…pardon me, but is Her Highness not with you?” 

“?” She turned back towards the carriage and noticed Anastasia was too absorbed in gawking at the sleek jet-black steam train majestically waiting by the platform. 

“Princess, if you don’t come down now, I’ll leave you behind~”

“E-eugh?!” Anastasia immediately snapped out of her stupor and jumped out of the carriage. “I’m here, I’m here!” 

The footman paused awkwardly before coughing, then continued, “so, may I escort Your Highness and Grace onto the train?” 

“Thank you, but there won’t be any need for you to trouble yourself to that extent,” Rasputina replied with a grateful smile. “I can help Her Highness to the platform from here.”

“But His Majesty particularly instructed me to—”

She leaned in and gave him a light kiss. “Be on your way, alright?” 

“I-I see, I understand.” The footman bowed again and took a step back, trying to hide his scarlet cheeks. “I will do just that then…Your Grace.” 

“Excellent, then we shall part ways here then, monsieur.” Rasputina took a stunned Anastasia’s hand and led her into the station concourse. 

“What’s the hurry to shake off that guy just now?” Anastasia asked once they stopped for a breather and glared at her in indignation. “You even k-k-kissed him!” 

“Eh?” She wasn’t expecting her to really get angry over something that seemed trivial. “I-I wasn’t truly kissing him, it was more of just a peck on the cheek…!”

A sudden tug on her arm forced her to face the princess—and without hesitation—Anastasia closed the distance and kissed her. It was a quick, awkward closed-mouth kiss that took her by surprise; it was pleasantly sweet, the feel of Anastasia’s soft lips against hers, despite the wrongness of it all. Her heart skipped a beat as she gazed down at the princess’ luminous lilac eyes, their depths full of innocence and wondrous mischief. 

And the next instant, Anastasia hastily stepped back and averted her gaze. “...this is just payback, d-don’t get it wrong, understand?”

“O-oh…” Rasputina brought her finger to her lips where Anastasia had just caressed; her heart still throbbing, she lowered her gaze and smiled faintly. “I guess now we’re even, since I did kiss you first.” 

“Huh?” The princess blinked, trying to process what she just said, then her eyes slowly widened in shock as her face reddened to crimson. “Rasputina, y-y-you did whattttt?!” 

“Wait, wait, wait, hear me out first,” Rasputina hurriedly added. “I-It happened while you were still unconscious on the bed—”

Anastasia covered her mouth with her hand. “Y-you kissed me while I was at my most defenceless, oh my…” 

“W-wait, let me continue, it isn’t what you’re thinking,” she said, panicking. “It was done as an effort to rouse you—”

“Didn’t I ask you to meet me at the ticketing booth?” Theo suddenly cut into Rasputina’s sentence while approaching from behind. “Why are you two just standing at the main door…sorry, was I interrupting something?” 

“No, not at all.” Anastasia shook her head slightly before shooting a glance in Rasputina’s direction. “I was just learning about the fact that I was violated in my sleep by the Saintess.” 

Rasputina spat in shock and horror. “W-w-what are you saying? Since when did I violate you?!”

“Violated?” Theo muttered while raising his eyebrow at the distraught Rasputina who was fumbling with her words in a bid to explain herself. “I wouldn’t put it past him—I mean, Her Grace, to attempt such a sin. I must apologise on behalf of the Kievsta.” 

“If you say so, I accept your apology…” Anastasia stared at Theo, tilting her head. “Why is Theo here in the first place? Se dire au a-ahvwar?¹A badly-pronounced au revoir (side note: what she is trying to ask is 'are you here to say goodbye?' in French)” 

“What do you mean? I’m not here to send you off; obviously I’m travelling on the Orient Express too.” He chuckled and nodded his head towards the royal blue gold-trimmed carriages along the platform. “My luggage is in the No. 10.”

“Eh? You are coming along with us??” She turned to look at Rasputina. “S-since when—wait, you planned all this from the start?!”

The Saintess shrugged. “More the merrier.” 

“Well…I guess so…yeah…” Anastasia mumbled feebly, suddenly crestfallen. 

Theo caught on to her hidden intention (despite the language barrier) and gave her a reassuring smile. “We’re in different wagon-lits, so we will probably only interact while having our meals in the dining-car during the daytime. Besides, I am disembarking at Sirap, so I won’t be following you two for your entire journey. Please feel free to enjoy your private time together.” 

She perked up right away upon hearing his words. “Really, is that so? That’s good to hear, mm-hmm!” 

“Oi, oi, you sure about this?” Rasputina lowered her voice to a cautious whisper as she spoke to Theo. “You’re giving Anastasia wild thoughts, you know?”

“Bratukha, Her Highness literally kissed you moments ago.” He gave her a knowing look and winked. “Please share the good news with me when we meet again.” 

“How about I give you a slap on your cheek now instead?”

“Spare me, o Holy Saintess…” Theo’s guffaws were interrupted by a piercing steam whistle—four short blasts were blown through it before a brown-uniformed train conductor on the platform shouted in a single breath. 

“The Orient Express with stops in Lancashire, Canterbury, Dover, Calais, Versailles, Fraintche, Sirap with connection to Hacerne, Maripol leaves in ten minutes!”

killwrites

Bon Voyage!

Under the twilight sky, a grand train glides elegantly out of the capital of Aetherium. The clinks of expensive wine glasses and giddy bursts of laughter fill the air as its passengers are treated to a sophisticated and luxurious journey like no other...

“So, if we find a dead body in a locked room, can I be the detective?”

“Anastasia, you seem a little too excited...”

“Don’t worry, bratukha, we’ll solve your murder together.”

“W-wait, I’m the dead body?!”

 

Ticket of Her Highness Anastasia De Cetheri, Princess of Aetherium

Ticket of Her Grace Rasputina Hedievna Románovsi, Saintess of Kievsta

~thank you so much for your support of this series!!~

End of Book 1

To be continued in TCFS: Book 2 - Orient Express arc