Not long after buying the book, he began flipping through its pages. The rustle of paper, the smell of something new still clinging to it despite the open air — Alphard found he liked it. A simple thing, but pleasant all the same.
The further he walked, the more the book pulled him in. It wasn't more than a hundred pages, but enough for a train ride or a wait at some bank counter. Lost in it, he walked straight into a tall man wearing a velvet coat, worn with age.
The man pressed a slip of paper into his hand — an address. Alphard didn't understand it, but embarrassment won out; he pocketed the paper, feigned disinterest, gave a small bow, and walked on.
The man said nothing in return. He only touched the brim of his small hat, a quiet gesture of respect.
Walking briskly, the paper tucked away, Alphard found it strange — the man hadn't spoken a single word, hadn't reacted with any hostility at all.
It's like everyone here is hiding something. Or maybe I'm just losing my mind.
He tried to talk himself out of the thought, but it was hard to shake, given how he'd arrived in this world in the first place.
For a moment he glanced back — and found the man already watching him, an unsettling look in his eyes paired with the faintest smile. Alphard bolted, cutting out of the square and doubling back toward the bakery corner.
Right as he rounded it, Helena appeared, clearly worried, having searched everywhere for him.
He slowed his approach, forcing an easy, unbothered smile, and handed her the bread. She noticed at once — only one loaf — and that same fixed stare from before settled back onto her face.
Right. So that's just how she is. This is uncomfortable.
Straightening his posture and smoothing down his coat, Alphard offered an explanation.
"I got distracted at the square, and a book vendor made off with one of the two loaves."
It was a lie, but his tone and conviction were steady enough that anyone would have believed him.
Helena didn't dwell on it long, nodding as she took in what he'd said. She was worried for him, though clearly a little irritated that he'd been so careless.
"Let's go home."
The two of them started back at an easy pace.
Somehow, he felt more capable than before. Whatever had happened at the cathedral hadn't dulled his resolve to explore this world and find some way home.
By the time they reached the house, the sunlight caught him full in the face, stinging his eyes briefly. It burned enough to leave them red and watering, though the discomfort passed quickly, and his vision sharpened again.
Alexi sat in the main room reading, unaware of their arrival until the smell of fresh bread reached him. He glanced toward the kitchen, where Helena had begun laying out breakfast.
"Now what is that wonderful smell drifting my way?" Alexi said, following the invisible trail with his nose.
"Bread, tea, and some of the meat we had left — though Alphard managed to get one of the loaves stolen."
Alexi settled at the table and fixed Alphard with a steady look from across it.
"And how exactly did you let that happen?"
Worn down from the day's endless scrutiny, Alphard sighed and answered with a note of exasperated defiance.
"The thief was hungry, I suppose. At least, that's what I'd like to believe."
"And you didn't think of your favorite uncle at all?"
Lowering his head, Alphard had little choice but to offer something reasonable, and with another sigh, said, "I'm sorry, uncle."
Alexi's expression eased into something calmer. He stroked his chin and, smiling, replied,
"No matter. I'll just eat double tomorrow."
Alphard let out an involuntary laugh at the absurdity of it, and for a moment, felt genuinely at ease — grateful, even, that whatever force had thrown him into this world had at least dropped him into this family, and not into danger, or onto the street.
Even so, he reminded himself this was still like meeting strangers for the first time, however warm they felt. He couldn't afford to grow too attached — not when he knew he had to find his way home, and not with how strange these people could be. If anything, that made leaving all the more urgent.
After breakfast, Alphard read through the diary in his room. Most of it was simple — dates, scattered thoughts, half-remembered notes — enough to confirm he was twenty-one, close to his earlier guess, and to fix the year clearly in his mind.
1315.
A small detail, but a valuable one — it told him exactly where he stood.
As the afternoon settled in, two knocks sounded at the door. Alexi, closest to it, crossed the room, the door's slow creak echoing through the house. Peering through the peephole, he found two officers waiting.
Helena recognized them as the police here for questioning, though it struck her as odd — they'd already come by that morning. Still, without much hesitation, she gave a small nod, signaling that this was normal.
Alexi opened the door easily enough and let them into the main room, where the three of them now sat together.
Alphard couldn't understand why they were there, though thinking it through, he suspected it had something to do with him.
Every step they took felt, to him, like the reading of a sentence. He could act "normal" around his family and avoid suspicion for now, maybe escape any real punishment — but with two officers in the room, everything shifted.
"Good afternoon, Lady Helena," one of them said, his voice low and heavy.
Helena rose from the sofa and offered a brief bow, though this time she didn't gather the corners of her dress the way she usually did.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Blake."
Their faces were unreadable. Both wore dark blue caps bearing a coat of arms, matching vests with little to distinguish them beyond a nameplate over the chest, long trousers, and a belt holding a gun and a knife.
Noticing this, Alphard's unease sharpened considerably. Outwardly he stayed composed, but a cold sweat — colder even than before — began to creep over him.
Mr. Blake, whose full name was Thomas Blake, and his partner, Stephen Reed, settled firmly onto the long sofa. Thomas carried a heavy cane, which he moved subtly whenever he spoke, along with a folder tucked under one arm.
His gaze fixed on Alphard almost immediately, and he offered a smile that felt more like he'd won something than greeted someone — an unsettling one.
Alphard didn't flinch, forcing himself to keep acting naturally, though something inside him wanted to break loose. The exhaustion that had followed him since arriving in this world hadn't let up, and the longer this dragged on, the more watched he felt.
"Lady Helena, for seventeen, you carry yourself remarkably well. Your uncle Alexi being here means we can handle the documentation properly, in the right order."
Helena kept nodding along. The cold look she'd worn earlier had vanished entirely, replaced by something relaxed, almost practiced — enough that Alphard began to wonder whether this visit was truly about something serious, or something else entirely.
Mr. Blake straightened his coat and turned his attention back to Alphard.
"How did you end up in that cathedral, Mr. Alphard?"
His tone shifted, dropping any pretense of friendliness. Alphard felt as though every word out of his mouth now was a blade with two edges. Thinking fast, he knew the only way through this was to stay calm and choose his words with care.
"My mind's still foggy. I know I went out looking for work, but I never made it inside anywhere — I was mostly just reading notices posted around, since every place I tried told me they had nothing open. All I know is someone appeared, and then I blacked out, and woke up in that cathedral."
Officer Stephen wrote down every word as Alphard spoke, the tension in the room unbroken. Alexi, though clearly lost as to what was really going on, watched the exchange with visible attention.
Mr. Blake let out that same smile again, and with a voice full of certainty, said,
"Why are you lying to me?"
A wave of cold washed over Alphard, draining the color from his face. He'd been sure his story would hold — and now it was falling apart completely.
Still, he refused to freeze. Keeping his composure, he answered as evenly as he could.
"I'm not lying. That's the truth — it's the last thing I remember. Maybe my memory's a little scrambled from whatever happened to me, but I'm not making any of this up."
Helena stepped into the conversation, offering a note she'd written that very day as support for Alphard's account.
Mr. Blake read it over, nodded, and let out a short, dry laugh. He pulled a set of documents from his folder for Alexi to sign, and after a glance at his pocket watch, both officers rose, gave a few final instructions about the paperwork, and made their way toward the door.
"Apologies — we're short on time today. The signed document should reach us by mail. We'll take our leave now. Have a good afternoon, Quinn family."
Alphard felt a wave of relief wash through him — but not before catching Mr. Blake's final glance back, a faint, lingering smile still on his face.