"What amazing luck I have, huh?"

Arabella looked up at the woman who showed up yesterday, one cell across from her with uninterested eyes. The company of someone else in the prison that wasn't Cecil was something she had longed for months ago. She had prayed for it- begging for someone, anyone else. And now in her fifth month of imprisonment, her prayer had been heard. But that useless wish of hers had lost its appeal by the third month already. 

Ignoring her, Arabella pulled her knees tighter to her chest. Though the woman didn't seem to care, smirking as she leaned against her cell bars, "Aren't you listening? Isn't it just amazing, us meeting here like this?"

Arabella gave the stranger a blank stare, dryly answering, "...I don't know you."

The woman laughed, brushing back her messy short brown hair, moving the long tuft hanging in front of her right eye to reveal a long, jagged scar hiding beneath. It wasn't fresh like the other bruises and cuts on the woman's body, the scar looked as though it had been there a long time already. "Of course, you don't. I'm the woman who was really running that earldom of yours. Unbeknownst to the Lockharts, clearly."

Arabella felt her heart clench at the mention of the earldom. She tried her best not to think about her home or her family. Glaring at the woman to hide her trembling lip, she spat, "Shut up."

The woman seemed unbothered, simply giving a sharp huff as she rested her head against the bars. For a brief moment, Arabella hoped that this would finally lead to silence, leaving her alone with her terrible thoughts, but the woman failed to get the hint. Her next words left her without any amusement, looking into her eyes there was a slight sorrow in them, "...So you're the one who killed Al, huh...?"

No words left Arabella's lips. She only clung to herself tighter. Defending herself had become too taxing on her spirit, if she had to do it one more time she might really break. 

At that, a bitter laugh left the stranger's lips, "...I'm just kidding. I know it wasn't you."

At this, Arabella flinched and her eyes shot upwards coming into contact with the woman's sharp brown ones. Getting to her feet shakily, she rushed to the bars and clung to them. A swell of emotion, something akin to hope rose within her and her eyes lit up. She sputtered before finally asking desperately, "How... How do you know!?"

The stranger tilted her head and her hair followed, she frowned slightly, "...Your family must really care about you to come to me for help. I tried real hard to stay under the Lockhart's radar for years and yet they still found me. It's my job to find out these things. You're innocent."

Tears welled in Arabella's eyes as she processed the woman's words. Olivia and Layton were still thinking about her. They had tried to help her somehow. Even after all this time, they were still looking out for her the best they could. She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. The joy was short-lived however as she came to a conclusion. She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned her head against the bars in defeat, "...But you're here."

The woman's frown deepened and she looked away in guilt, "...You catch on quick."

Of course, Cecil wouldn't let anything come out. And if this woman had been snooping too close to the truth, it was no wonder she had been jailed already. A sudden realisation caused Arabella to shoot her eyes open and cry out in desperation, "Wait! Please, don't let Cecil know anything about them hiring you!" Realising she had yelled, she tried her best to calm herself before continuing, brows furrowed as she pleaded. "...I know it's a lot to ask. And I know Cecil will do anything to get the information out of you but- please. I beg you. Don't say anything."

"You don't need to worry about that, I'll be dead after tonight anyway," the woman laughed to herself. She seemed more inconvenienced than anything else about her approaching death. The woman turned again to face Arabella, her brown eyes shining with a devious glow. Her lips pulled up into a dangerous smirk. "Contrary to popular belief, there is honour among thieves. If that psycho is going to kill me, I'm going out laughing."

Arabella's eyes widened at the woman's resolve. With how determined she was, it seemed she truly wasn't scared of death. She believed her. She could picture it so perfectly, the woman's short brown hair flowing in the wind, framing the mocking smile on her face as she looked down at Cecil, taking control away from him till the very end. The idea appealed to her. If Arabella was going to die by his hand, she wasn't going to let him enjoy it either. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. 

For the first time in months, she let a small smile spread across her lips. As weak as it was, it was the most emotion she could muster, "...Thank you..." She paused realising she hadn't gotten the stranger's name.

"Katherine," The woman aimed a warm smile her way. "It's been a long time since I told someone my real name. I know. It doesn't suit me."

It suited her fine enough. Arabella gave her a rueful smile, mustering her earnest gratitude from the bottom of her heart, "...Thank you, Katherine."

She had been telling the truth. The next day she was gone. 

As Arabella sat on the small table across from Winter, it seemed her silence hadn't gone unnoticed. The woman, took a drag from her cigarette, raising a brow at the bead of nervous sweat that rolled down the girl's cheek. She smirked, "I don't bite, Miss Lockhart."

Arabella swallowed hard and pinched herself under the table. She had to snap out of it, she couldn't get caught up in the past like that. Taking a deep breath, she forced a slight smile on her face and met Winter's brown eyes, "Forgive me... I just remembered something. Shall we begin?"

The woman only raised her brow higher at that but shrugged off the comment, moving on to the next topic, "I'm here to listen, not talk." She smirked and leaned forward slightly. "You're lucky to receive a meeting with me, don't waste my time. What's your angle?"

Winter was straightforward, just like back then. Arabella disguised the frown on her lips with a confident-looking mask, "I'm... I'm here for your services. Specifically, I want you to help me gather information. And not just once, I'll be requiring your help for the coming years."

Winter gave a smug look and scoffed, tapping her cigarette holder to clear the ash, "My prices are steep, my dear. Even for a noble, it's not something that comes easy."

"Money is no issue, I have my own plans on how to make enough to afford this so rest assured you would be compensated," Arabella crossed her hands over each other, sitting up straight as she spoke confidently. "And this is something that is between us. Not the Lockhart name as a whole, only me. So, whatever I ask of you and whatever you do has no links to anyone else."

A tense silence settled between them. Arabella began to sweat slightly as Winter's scrutinising gaze burned through her skull. With one exhale of smoke, a smirk spread on her red lips. The brunette suddenly narrowed her eyes, "...Ah, this is why I hate dealing with nobles." Arabella blinked in surprise as Winter began to mock her with a dangerous glint in her eyes. "You think you can just throw money at something and that's all that matters to get what you want? Your world may work like that, but here, life is more complicated. I've met beggars with better pitches." Leaning forward in her seat, Winter pointed the long cigarette holder at her to solidify her point. "So, I'll ask again. What's your pitch? What can you offer me?" 

The woman's challenging gaze put Arabella on edge, unable to look away. She was somewhat right, most of Arabella's problems had usually been solved through her family's money. Her brows furrowed at the realisation of how shallow she must have come off. She wouldn't have that. Standing in her seat, Arabella slammed her hands to the table and returned Winter's sharp stare with an equally determined one, "I'm offering you justice. I'm offering you the chance to tear down a good-for-nothing pig who deserves what's coming to him for what he did. He'll rot in hell. I'll do anything to make sure of that." Her passionate outburst seemed to do little to convince Winter, though she did raise an intrigued brow. Swallowing nervously, Arabella continued. "Katherine, if you only knew. You'd understand."

At last, Winter's face morphed into shock, "How-"

"I'm not stupid or careless. And I'm not going to lie down and take any attacks on me without fighting back," Arabella felt her tone growing angrier than she needed. This wasn't how things were supposed to go, not even close. She screwed up and got emotional. With a defeated sigh, she got up from her seat and made her way to the door, pulling her cloak over her head and throwing a serious look over her shoulder to the stunned Winter. "So, decide for yourself if I'm someone worth dealing with. We can talk more then. But for now, remember not to take me too lightly. I'll wait for your response."

Alone in the room, Katherine was left speechless as the door slammed shut. Arabella Lockhart, the earldom's tiny terror, seemed to be plotting something dangerous. Slowly, a smile crept onto the woman's ruby-red lips until she threw her head back in laughter, "Haha! Miss Lockhart, you're a riot!" She slapped her hand on the solid wood table and let her laughter simmer into an amused chuckle to herself. "Ha. Jesus, Al. I can't believe you were right."

Taking a final drag of her soon-dead cigarette, Katherine finally put it out and exhaled the smoke letting the scent linger around her. With this, she was officially convinced, she was about to make the deal of the century.

"How did it go?" 

Alistair followed Arabella who had already begun storming out of the building with a frustrated expression on her face. His violet eyes eagerly followed her speed-walking form and she tried her best to block him out of her line of sight, "I don't want to talk about it." Arabella pulled her cloak tighter against her form against the cold night air and furrowed her brows. "I just want to go home."

Surprised, Alistair rightly decided not to pursue the matter. He simply nodded and followed her quick strides towards the Hansom Cab service, obediently. The trip seemed to be for nought though, as upon reaching the building, Arabella searched through her pockets in despair, "I was robbed!" She turned to Alistair, who didn't seem all too surprised at the fact, and gaped. "Did you see anyone pickpocket me?"

He sent her an incredulous look, "I meant to say it earlier but... Wearing a fancy cloak like that? I wouldn't be surprised if it happened in the pub."

Arabella grimaced. The night couldn't get any worse...

Noticing her exasperated look, Alistair smiled encouragingly, his smile shining like the sun, "Don't worry, the walk to the estate doesn't seem as long as you'd think."

She sent him an even more exasperated look. The night got worse. 

Silently, Alistair and Arabella walked side by side down the long carriage path, lit only by stark white moonlight. She wasn't going to say it aloud, but she felt a little childish for complaining about the walk earlier. For someone like her who was used to carriage rides everywhere, she now felt dramatic for complaining about a 20-minute stroll. Though, she still kicked herself for being so thoughtless. Nothing but the sound of their footsteps filled the silence on the path, leaving Arabella with time to think. 

Her memory of Katherine in the prison cell returned. Back then she had called Alistair, 'Al' and looked so sorrowful when she did. That reaction didn't seem to match the story Alistair gave of meeting her on the night he hired her. It seemed as though they were on close terms back then, somehow. But, Arabella wasn't sure if the same applied in this timeline. She couldn't shake the feeling that she had been played, somewhat. She sighed. There was no use in making accusations right now, though.

Arabella peeked from the corner of her eye at Alistair, who also seemed lost in his own thoughts. A pensive look clouded his violet eyes as he walked, barely paying attention to the path before him and his pink lips brought into a firm frown. He looked strangely adult when he wasn't plastering a smile on his face, even now. Again, she was reminded of that melancholy expression of his, the night they met on the balcony. They didn't know each other for long, but it became more and more evident that Alistair seemed to be wearing a mask around her. The realisation frustrated her, but she had no right to be mad. She hadn't earned his trust after all, that much was obvious. Even if they were working together, there was a clear wall between them that she wasn't sure of how to break. Or if she wanted to break that wall at all. 

A slight misstep caused Arabella to audibly wince. She grimaced, looking down at her feet and cursing her shoe choice. Her lace-up boots were not ideal for walking long distances at all. The slight heel was not good on her feet; She would surely be sore tomorrow. Alistair turned at the sound of her pained hiss and faced her, having been pulled out of his train of thought. At the sight of her glaring at her feet, he made the connection and joked, "Nice shoes."

He was unfazed by her glare quickly being directed to him. Frowning, Arabella forced herself to stand straight and faced straight forward, "I'll make it." She took a few more steps past him only to falter slightly and quickly give up. Embarrassed at her quick failure, she tried to save face and knelt to reach for her shoes. "Whatever! I'll just take them off!"

Amused, Alistair watched as she clumsily tried to unlace her boots, "You're just going to end up worse that way."

Arabella ignored him and grimaced, realising he was right. Giving up on her plan, she stood straight once more and frowned, determined to fare the rest of the trip. But she stopped in her tracks when he walked past her and knelt on the ground in front of her, arms out behind him. She squinted her eyes in confusion, "What are you doing?"

Alistair looked up at her from over his shoulder and grinned, "It can't be helped, so just hop on." She still didn't seem to be catching on and so he rolled his eyes. "I used to get carried around like this when I was a kid. I'm offering to carry you."

Finally understanding, Arabella frowned to hide her flustered expression. Usually, she would argue... But her feet were killing her. So, without a word, she climbed on Alistair's back and bit back her shame. Even Alistair seemed to be caught off guard by the lack of snarky remarks. But quickly, he adapted to their new travelling arrangement with ease. Arabella couldn't stop her mind from racing through her worries. Was she too heavy? Was he getting tired? Where should she put her hands? How tightly was she supposed to hold on? It was slowly becoming too much for her to handle. Nervously she spoke up, "I think I can make it the rest of the way so-"

"With those shoes? You're just going to slow us down to a snail's pace," She couldn't see his face, but even from his voice, Arabella could tell he was smiling and probably laughing at her. He hooked his hands even tighter under her legs, securing her from falling. "We're almost there. And I'm not going to drop you."

Silently, Arabella simply accepted the situation at last. It was an embarrassing position, and a bit vulnerable too. She was hyper-aware of everything all of a sudden. From the soft white hair tickling her cheek to the warmth radiating from Alistair's back. She didn't really want to get down... "Well, if you give up. Let me know."

Again, she could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, "Your 'thank yous' are phrased strangely."

She smiled warmly at the comment, relieved that he couldn't see her face at the moment.