"Josie!!!"
The shrill voice startled her as she was just passing the front yard of the house, after spending the whole day at Raventon Hall and having a heated argument with Maddie about the man who wanted Josie to write a story based on his life. Josie turned quickly only to find Iveline Kingsley running towards her with her hair dishevelled and her spring dress half-open at the top, as if she had escaped from a drama performance.
"Hey, why are you here? Don't tell me you ran away again?" Josie asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.
According to Roman's story yesterday, Ivy's punishment should not have been over yet; she should still be confined to her room for a few more days. But in fact, Ivy was here now, appearing before her eyes.
"That's not important now!" Ivy hissed quickly, then indifferently walked closer to Josie, who still had a confused expression on her face. "Lend me some money. I know you have plenty."
Instead of asking what for, Josie asked, "Where are you running away to this time?"
Given Ivy's condition, run away was the first word that crossed Josie's mind. She knew her friend too well. Iveline Kingsley would not suddenly appear with messy hair and half-open clothes, just to borrow money for gambling.
Impossible.
If Ivy came like this, there must be something big driving her. And the only big thing that always made Ivy act recklessly was her father! Ivy must have used the money to run away from Bluebill. After all, this wasn't the first time Ivy had borrowed money from Josie for her escape plans.
"Anywhere, as long as my father isn't there!" Ivy almost cried when she remembered her father's face, the main source of her frustration. "I hate him, I really do! He keeps forcing me to get engaged to the man of his choice. I don't like it, Jo! I don't want to marry a man I can't even joke around with."
Baron Kingsley wanted his daughter to get married soon. Especially now that Ivy was 27 years old—an age considered late for marriage among the aristocracy. In their circle, the pressure to get married quickly came not only from the family, but also from social expectations and unwritten rules that had been passed down from generation to generation. That was why Baron Kingsley continued to arrange engagements for his daughter with a number of men of his choice, who, unfortunately, were almost all far from Ivy's ideal criteria.
While her peers among the aristocracy were married and busy raising families, Ivy was still content to remain trapped in her own world. A world full of freedom, laughter, and her beloved gambling games. While wedding parties were held almost every month among the aristocracy, she was more often seen at the gambling table or escaping to dance parties that her father never approved of.
This made Baron Kingsley increasingly upset. For him, Ivy was not only his only daughter, but also the heir to the family's honour. A noblewoman should not spend her time playing cards with men, let alone rejecting proposal after proposal from men with titles that he had selected himself. So the pressure to get married continued to mount. Baron Kingsley began arranging meetings with men from military noble families or local nobles, hoping that one of them would win Ivy over. However, the result was always the same—rejection, running away, or sometimes worse, Ivy would cause a small scandal to stop the plan.
Meanwhile, for Ivy, marriage was not just about taking her partner's surname. She wanted to fall in love on her own terms, not be set up! Or better yet, not marry at all if it wasn't to a man who could finance her gambling.
And Josie herself, even though she had never once been pressured to get married, either by Elsie or Leon, understood Ivy's anxiety every time she was forced to get engaged to a stranger she didn't know.
It was annoying! More annoying than Atlas Raymond's blank expression every time Josie tried to crack a joke—which she thought was quite funny, but was always considered boring by him. Sometimes Atlas would just stare at her with raised eyebrows, as if questioning why she wasted her breath saying such things.
"So? Where are you going?" he asked, looking at her with concern and dilemma.
Hm, should she help her escape again? The question crossed her mind, making Josie even more hesitant.
"I'll tell you when I get there. For now, give me your money!"
The answer was definitely no. This was Iveline, her best friend at Bluebill. The person who had contributed the most to all of Josie's works. Thanks to her support, Josie had managed to publish her first novel—yes, it was Ivy who had persuaded her mother to sponsor Josie. Then, thanks to her chatty voice, Josie always had material for the dialogues of the brave female characters she often wrote about. Even thanks to her presence, Josie never felt alone amid the pressures of life as a young, unmarried writer living with her three sisters and sister-in-law.
Being a writer isn't easy, okay? There's a lot of pressure and ridicule from the people around you. They think that writing is not a profession, but a form of laziness for someone who cannot find a real job. And that's not including the pressure from the writing world itself. The competition? Terrifying. Every manuscript is like being thrown into a gladiatorial arena, and if you're not sharp enough, your story will be trampled mercilessly.
If it weren't for Mrs. Kingsley being behind her name as a sponsor and protector of her reputation, Josie's name would have been completely destroyed by senior writers who felt threatened by a new voice like hers.
Therefore, when her friend came to her in despair and asked for help, Josie hoped to always be the first person to help her.
"All right," she said softly as she opened the small bag she always carried with her. Wherever she went, Josie always tried to bring money—just in case she felt like buying a book at the local market. "But I can't give you much. Kat needs money to enter a contest next month, Rae asked me for money yesterday for—yeah, something I hope isn't a bomb experiment, and I also have to—"
"I know, I know! Just lend me a hundred sols and I'll pay you back a hundred and fifty sols. Deal?"
Josie was taken aback for a moment when she heard this. She did have 100 sols in her purse, and Ivy always knew that. There were no secrets between them; that was how their friendship was. Still, it was a considerable amount of money to borrow. So, should she lend it to her or not? With that money, she could buy new stationery and several expensive books by famous authors that she could only look at from outside the bookshop.
Hm, but it was Iveline Kingsley who was borrowing the money. 100 sols might not be much for her. Besides, if that girl promised something, she would usually return twice as much money as the original amount.
Cool, right?
Yeah, indeed, Ivy is never stingy when it comes to money. She is quite generous, but unfortunately, she always lives extravagantly. That is why her ideal type is a wealthy man who can fulfil her daily needs with his wealth. However, Ivy is not just looking for a wealthy man, but a man who is truly very wealthy. Someone whose wealth will not run out in just a few years.
"Deal," Josie finally nodded in agreement, but before handing over the money, she added, "At least tell me your plan. Don't make me the first person they ask when you disappear again."
Ivy's lips curved into a long smile when she saw the 100 sols in Josie's hand. Without a hint of shame, Ivy immediately touched Josie's hand—no, more precisely, she touched the money—with a sweet, deceitful smile. "You'll still be the first person they ask. Because you're my best friend."
"That doesn't reassure me, Ivy."
"Oh, come on, don't worry. Just do what you usually do."
The problem she was more concerned about now was not herself, but Mrs Kingsley, who would surely overreact when she found out that her only daughter had run away from home. Then who would be blamed? Her husband, of course! Which would lead to the couple fighting.
"I know you probably don't intend to contact me while you're away. But please, keep me informed," she said, giving Ivy advice after handing her 100 sols. "Every day. At least two sentences. Otherwise, I'll report to the whole world that you've been kidnapped by a mysterious debt collector!"
"Who is this mysterious debt collector?"
"It's me!"
Ivy stifled a laugh, her eyes sparkling at her friend's joke. Meanwhile, her hands deftly slipped the 100 sols into her dress pocket. Then, without warning, her hands slid onto Josie's shoulders, pulling her into a warm, strong embrace. Her lips greeted Josie's cheeks with soft, quick kisses, one after another, leaving a lingering warmth on her skin.
"Argh! Ivy, stop it! You're making me look like I don't like men! That's one of the reasons why I'm still single!" Josie exclaimed as she tried to break free from the embarrassing embrace.
Ivy just giggled when she heard Josie's screams every time she kissed her. "Oh, come on, Jo. We all know that's not the reason. You've rejected more proposals than the number of books on Ed's bookshelf."
"That is the reason!" Josie snorted rudely, but she still couldn't escape her friend's deadly embrace. "They think I like you!"
"Oh, you do like me," she replied quickly before—again and again—kissing Josie's cheek because she was annoyed by her sulky attitude. "I like you. Why don't you marry me?"
Josie, who had managed to free herself from Ivy's embrace and kiss, immediately kept her distance and glared at her angrily. Meanwhile, Ivy was still laughing as before, trying to chase Josie to hug her again.
"I'm not rich. Have you forgotten that?" Josie retorted, taking a step back, keeping a safe distance from Ivy's outstretched arm.
"Oh, right. You're poor."
Josie clicked her tongue in annoyance. "To be precise, I have a limited income but an abundance of enthusiasm."
"And I am a noble princess who has run out of patience and pocket money." Ivy tried to imitate the tone of a stage actor, her hands clenched at her chest in an exaggerated manner. "This is a heart-wrenching moment—an oppressed princess seeking freedom from her father!"
"Your story isn't that sad."
"Yeah, not yet. But who knows, my life might become so sad that a writer will come along and adapt my life story into a novel," she said in a dramatic tone that was a little annoying to hear. "Oh, I know the perfect title for the novel! The Princess Who Gambled Her Way to Freedom."
Josie couldn't hold back her laughter, even though she tried to keep a straight face. "You read too many of your mother's romance novels."
"Stolen from her desk, to be precise. And that's also why I ran away from home," she said with a mischievous wink.
Josie could only shake her head, half resigned, half not knowing what else to say. Advising Ivy at this point was like talking to a wall. Her friend clearly wouldn't listen to a word of her advice. And instead of listening, Ivy would just pout, put on a hurt face, and then dramatically accuse Josie of being a traitor who wasn't on her side.
"Looks like I'll have to start saving up an emergency fund just to pay for your umpteenth escape."
"You really are my best friend ever, Jo!" Ivy exclaimed, hugging Josie again suddenly, but this time without a kiss on the cheek, thankfully. "I have to go now. Take care of yourself, Jo. And don't you ever—I repeat, don't you ever—find another noblewoman to be your friend while I'm gone. I'll find out! Even from across the continent."
Josie raised her eyebrows. "I thought you weren't going to send any news?"
"That's right, but my intuition is sharp."
Before Josie could reply, Ivy added with a feigned pleading expression, "Oh, and one more thing. Lend me one of your clothes. For God's sake, I'm freezing! This dress is so thin and I look too conspicuous if I have to run away in it."
Josie rolled her eyes. However, instead of going inside to get a new outfit, she took off the thick brown coat she was wearing and threw it at Ivy. "Wear this. Just don't get any weird stains on it."
Ivy immediately grabbed the coat and put it on as fast as lightning. "You're amazing!"
"And you're noisy. Hurry up and leave before someone comes looking for you here!"
"Yes, yes. I'm leaving, now." Ivy kissed the air around Josie as a sign of their farewell. "See you later, my dear writer. Pray that I don't get caught the day after running away."
Josie grinned. "You better pray you don't get tempted by some strange man you meet at a gambling den. I know you're always on the lookout for rich men there!"
"Why not?" Ivy lifted her chin high, followed by a smug expression that somehow suited her. "They have a lot of money and are definitely richer than the man my father chose for me, who only relies on his family inheritance!"
"You money-grubbing aristocrat!" Josie teased, pushing her away. "Now, go. You've stayed here too long."
"Yes, yes. This time I'm really leaving!"
But before she actually walked away, Ivy—of course—took the time to hug Josie one more time. A warm, tight hug that was too quick to refuse.
"I'll be back soon. Bye, Jo!" she called, then turned and darted quickly down Bluebill Street towards the nearest station.
After making sure Ivy had completely disappeared from view, Josie turned and stepped into the house. Unfortunately, just as she pushed the door open and her body hadn't completely crossed the threshold, Rae suddenly jumped towards her.
"Oh my God, Rae!" she cried in surprise, almost falling backwards if her hand hadn't been holding onto the door handle.
Rae just giggled, her eyes sparkling like a child who had just found a treasure.
"I've been waiting for you," she said quickly, then without further ado pulled Josie's hand. "I need your help, Jo. In this house, you're the only one with an imagination as wild as mine!"
Josie was still panting, trying to calm her racing heart. "Can't I just sit down for a minute?" she complained with a long sigh.
"You can do that later. Besides, this is an emergency!"
Josie rolled her eyes. "Every time you say 'emergency', it usually turns out to be an attempt to solve an absurd puzzle, like monster tracks in the attic that turn out to be just chicken tracks."
"And who knows, those tracks could be clues to ancient treasure?" Rae replied quickly.
An ancient treasure ... this was the result of letting a child grow up with pirate and mystery books. Who was to blame? Josie, of course. Because she was the one who bought Rae pirate and mystery books when the child was eight years old.
Despite her complaints, Josie let Rae drag her upstairs to a room full of maps, thick books, and obscure scribbles plastered on the walls like a conspiracy theory board.
"What is it this time? Murder? Kidnapping? Or traces of a sea monster that strayed into the bathroom?"
Rae turned quickly, her eyes serious. "It's bigger than that."
Josie raised her eyebrows. "Oh, no ...."
The teenager approached, staring at her intensely. "I smell a conspiracy behind the disappearance of the neighbour's chicken. And I'm sure the culprit is someone close to him."
Josie stared intently at her sister, then flopped onto Rae's bed, covering her face with a pillow. "Why didn't I just run away with Ivy earlier?"