"So, you chose your roommate? That Natasha?"
Eleanor's voice rang out in the private booth on the second floor of the dessert shop.
Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried a clear, restrained sense of confusion.
Pavela sat opposite her, holding a long-handled silver spoon, focused on scooping a spoonful of vanilla ice cream from a glass.
The ice cream trembled slightly in the spoon, its surface covered with a thin layer of caral crumbles and toasted almond slices.
She brought the spoon to her mouth.
The icy sweetness lted on the tip of her tongue.
"Yes."
She answered vaguely with the spoon still in her mouth.
Eleanor leaned back against her chair, her hands folded on the table.
Her ice-blue eyes were fixed on Pavela.
Pavela recognized that look.
It was the look Eleanor had when she was trying to understand sothing but didn't intend to ask directly.
The booth was very quiet.
Outside the window was the bustle of Eisenburg's comrcial street—carriage wheels rolling over cobblestones, vendors' cries, and the whistles of steam buses.
But these sounds were blocked out by thick curtains and double-paned glass, leaving only an extrely distant hum, as if coming from another world.
Two desserts sat on the table.
In front of Pavela was a large glass of vanilla ice cream topped with caral crumbles, almond slices, and a small dollop of whipped cream.
In front of Eleanor was a small plate of tiramisu, neatly sliced with evenly dusted cocoa powder, but she hadn't touched «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» a single bite.
"I did suggest that you start trying to build your own faction."
Eleanor finally spoke.
Her finger tapped lightly on the tabletop.
"But I didn't expect you to select a target so quickly."
She paused for a mont.
"And such a... dangerous target at that."
Pavela scooped another spoonful of ice cream.
"Dangerous?"
"Natasha Petrova."
When Eleanor said the na, her tone was calm, but she enunciated every syllable clearly.
"A Commoner Scholarship Student, ranked first in this year's freshman assessnt, an usar person."
"From the first day you entered the academy, she has been collecting information on you."
"She reached out to the academy's military doctors, the Gendarrie, and even tried to contact my people."
Eleanor's finger tapped the table again.
"She is very careful and cautious, but not clean enough."
"So my people noticed her very quickly."
She paused and sighed again.
"Then, as per your request, I had so information leaked to her."
Eleanor's eyes were fixed on Pavela.
"Those 'accidentally leaked' files, those 'unintentionally overheard' conversations, those docunts that 'just happened to appear within her line of sight'—"
"She got them all."
Pavela took the spoon out of her mouth and licked it.
"Thank you."
"Sister did a great job."
Eleanor looked at her.
"You don't plan on telling the reason?"
Eleanor asked.
Pavela shook her head.
"Not for now."
"But you still need to continue cooperating?"
"If possible."
Eleanor watched her for a while longer.
Then she sighed.
"Alright."
She reached out, picked up the silver fork on the table, and cut a small piece of tiramisu.
"I won't ask."
She put the fork into her mouth.
"But if you need help, tell anyti."
Pavela's spoon stopped mid-air.
She looked up, her gray-blue eyes eting Eleanor's.
"Thank you."
The corner of Eleanor's mouth curved slightly.
"Eat slower."
She said.
"You're going to get a brain freeze in a mont."
Pavela stuffed another large spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.
"I won't."
She said indistinctly.
"Dr. Lovelace's treatnt was very thorough; I'm not afraid of the cold at all now."
Eleanor looked at the girl with short silver hair, whose face was slightly flushed from the ice cream, her eyes bright and a bit of lted cream stuck to the corner of her mouth.
She reached out and gently wiped away the cream with a corner of a napkin.
"Still, slow down."
"No one is fighting you for it."
...
Four days had passed since the day Pavela drove that white cha back to the Seventh Division.
That afternoon.
She had landed in the Seventh Division's hangar, and the mont the Spinal Interface disconnected, she slumped in the cockpit like a pile of mush.
The system droned in her ear, reporting various data—interface synchronization rate 99.7%, neural transmission delay 0.03 seconds, muscle fatigue 82%, recomndation for imdiate rest of at least six hours.
She crawled out of the cockpit, her legs so weak she almost fell off the ladder.
Dr. Lovelace caught her.
The blonde, blue-eyed woman picked her up, holding her like a cat, checking her pupils, pulse, and temperature as she walked.
"The interface synchronization rate is too high."
Dr. Lovelace said with a frown.
"99.7%, this number is not normal."
"For a normal person connecting to a Spinal Interface for the first ti, reaching 85% synchronization is already considered genius-level."
"You..."
She placed Pavela on the sofa in the lounge, crouched down, and cupped Pavela's face with both hands, her erald eyes staring into Pavela's.
"What did you do?"
Pavela blinked.
"...Natural talent?"
Dr. Lovelace stared at her for five seconds.
Then she sighed, released her hands, and stood up.
"Forget it, if you don't want to say, don't say it."
She turned toward the door.
"But if you do this again, I'll strap you to the treatnt table and have a chanical arm watch over you until you've slept for eight hours."
Pavela shrunk her neck.
That threat was very effective.
Then Dr. Lovelace stopped at the door and looked back.
"I have to go back to Victoria tomorrow."
"What?"
"So urgent business."
Dr. Lovelace's expression beca a bit more serious.
"The very urgent kind."
"Margaret is going too."
"So for the next period of ti, your training will have to be suspended."
Pavela sat up.
"For how long?"
"I'm not sure."
Dr. Lovelace shook her head.
"Maybe a week, maybe longer."
"Before I return, I suggest you find a general education teacher to learn so literacy."
While Pavela retorted that it was clearly her designs that weren't user-friendly enough, she patted Pavela's head.
And then she really left.
Early the next morning, when Pavela went to the Seventh Division again, Ms. Etina told her that Dr. Lovelace had already left Eisenburg on a 3:00 AM train.
General Margaret was on the sa train.
Neither of them left any further explanation.
Only a note, written in Dr. Lovelace's handwriting that was so scribbled it was almost unrecognizable:
"Go to class obediently and wait for to return."
Pavela stood in the Seventh Division's reception room, looking at the note, silent for a long ti.
Ms. Etina crouched by her feet, the tip of her tail lightly brushing against her calf.
"ow."
That "ow" probably ant "don't worry, the master will be back soon."
But for so reason, Pavela felt like there was sothing else hidden in that "ow."
A bit of unease.
And sothing else... sothing she couldn't quite na.
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