Jessa stepped out into the cool afternoon Paris sun. Raza was a few steps behind her. Jessa was annoyed by the very concept of 'socializing' but she was even more annoyed by needing a servant in tow to follow her every move. She'd spent the morning reenrolling in the programs that she had been forced to abandon, and discovered that there was just a bit of a vengeance quality to spending Torah's money. It didn't necessarily make her feel better about the schedule he was forcing her to endure, but perhaps a little less worse. At any rate, she was headed out to see how much more she could spend. Raza had wanted to drive, but Jessa was determined to walk and explore her new city. She had an even better idea of where things were, and where she wanted to return to, after her morning run and besides, walking would burn up more of the 'socializing time' on her schedule. She turned and headed for a district where she knew she could find household items. If nothing else, she could pick out decorative items. The walls of the apartment were bare, and there were no vases or décor for the tabletops.
A little more than a mile away and several thousand Euros later, she was shopped out and turned toward a restaurant district in search of a coffee shop, or better yet, a wine shop where she could sit and watch others socialize for a while. Raza was loaded down with bags, though most of what Jessa purchased was to be delivered. She didn't think the servant would complain about sitting in a bistro for the rest of the afternoon. It didn't take long to find the sort of place Jessa had in mind. There was outside seating on the wide boulevard and most of the traffic was pedestrian anyway. Perfect for people watching. Jessa invited Raza to sit with her, but the servant predictably demurred, preferring to sit inside with other servants. Jessa made sure that the server would see to her needs on Torah's account, then picked out a wine for herself and settled into the sunniest seat she could find. There were only a few people in the bistro when she first arrived, but it began to fill as she sat and sipped at her wine, until she started to wonder if she might be forced to socialize at least to apologize for bumping elbows.
She soon realized that the population was surprisingly diverse. Though mostly she heard English, there were smatterings of other languages that usually seemed to involve very private conversations. She knew, of course, that within the city, most of the residents were Circles, or highborn and Elite servants to Circles. From her newly discovered research, she had come to understand that the migrants coming up from the south most often became lowborn simply by virtue of arriving and becoming settled well after the first rounds of vaccine had already been dispensed. So, she had assumed that most of the Circle members within the city of Paris would be from regions of old France. Yet she definitely heard accents from the British Isles, Spain, Germany and even farther East. Perhaps that was why Erich and Torah had seemed so comfortable in Paris. It was like a melting pot for European Circles.
It also seemed to her that as the afternoon wore on, the people around her became more relaxed, in less of a hurry. Also, more men began to emerge from whatever duties they were serving for the Council. She imagined much of the work being of a mundane sort, the moving of intangible monies from one place to another, writing new policies, shredding old ones, determining which fleshy gene container to pair up with which other fleshy gene container to create healthy, thriving little fleshy gene containers. Jessa smiled sardonically to herself. Now she was one of those gene bags, readily handed off to someone else should Torah's enemies attain their goal to destroy him. He had suggested early on, that the alternative to him could be so much worse. Certainly an alternative like Renik would fit that description, but as she looked around this street, in the fading autumn sun, she wasn't so sure that most of the alternatives would be worse. She watched as husbands and wives met up, greeting each other. Occasionally, a child or two would be in tow. Perhaps a family heading off for an early supper. Would she ever be part of that kind of family scene? With Torah? It was hard to imagine, but perhaps once there were children. He was so good with his little brothers - she was refusing to let herself think of them as his sons, though his reaction when he found the broken necklace certainly seemed to suggest it meant more than just a token gifted to another by his father. Jessa shook her head, trying to sweep that image away. She had decided she was not going to think about Torah's past. Or even about their future. Now, this moment in time, was where she needed to be focused and if that meant following his stupid schedule, well, there it was and there she was.
"Pardonnez-moi?" Jessa looked over, then way up at the tall gentleman standing next to her. "Pardon me," he repeated in English. "Is this seat taken?" He had his hands on the back of a chair at her table and she thought he wished to move it to another table. She shook her head.
"No, go ahead," she replied with a smile.
"Merci," he said with an answering smile. "It is becoming crowded." Then he sat down across from her. A server hurried over the moment he sat. Jessa wondered if it was the Fourth Circle crest that the man wore, or his position in the city.
"Sir?" the obsequious highborn said.
He ordered a rich red wine and then added another glass of wine for Jessa. She tried to protest, but the server was already hurrying away. "You shouldn't," she scolded.
"I must pay for my seat," he said with a shrug. "My name is Arnau."
"Jessa," she responded. She saw a faint shadow flick across his eyes.
The server returned amazingly fast with the glasses of wine and some warm breadsticks and precious olive oil to dip them in. Arnau pushed the breadsticks toward her. "Please. Are you new to the city?" he asked, leaning forward as he rested his elbows on the table. "You do not look familiar to me, and, forgive me, but I would remember if I had seen you before."
Jessa, who was well used to the lines men used to get her attention, found herself blushing. "I am new," she agreed. "I've only been here a few days." She picked up her wine glass with her left hand, hoping he would note the wedding ring and steer the conversation a different route from where she feared it was headed. Torah might have his affairs, but she surely didn't want to deal with two men when she hadn't even wanted one. His eyes did fall to the wedding ring, but then rose back to hers and didn't seem any less intense than before.
"I am the City Marshall," he explained, "so it's an obligation to keep track of comings and goings. Would I know your husband?"
"He is from Rhine Region," she said, earning a puzzled frown from Arnau.
"Unless my ear fools me, you are from..." he paused dramatically. "Parvil Region or perhaps the Belgian Corridor?"
"I'm impressed," Jessa admitted. "Parvil."
"Ah. And from your stature and physique, I would guess you are Elite or highborn? Yet you wear a gown appropriate to a Lady, so I would also guess that your husband is a Circle Lord."
"You are quite a sleuth," she exclaimed.
"Let me tell you more, then. You do not wear your Circle crest, which suggests to me that your husband may be Tenth Circle as virtually the only Circle-born who do not proudly - or some say, boastfully - proclaim their ties are a select few of the Tenth Circle. Now, you say that you have only been here a few days, and I have heard tell that two Council Agents from Dusseldorf arrived in town a few days ago, in the company of a very beautiful woman. And that one of these agents became married in the North Cathedral shortly thereafter. It happens that I know these two agents, and since I cannot imagine Erich confining himself to one woman for any length of time, I can only conclude that you must be Torah's wife."
"I can see how you earned your position," Jessa said, nodding.
He leaned toward her. "Actually, I recognized your name," he confessed.
She leaned toward him. "I know. I saw it in your eyes."
He laughed. "Are you sure it is Torah that is the agent?"
I am learning from him," she said, only half in jest. "May I ask how you know Torah?"
