"Whooo-"
The melodious whistle sounded on and on.
With a faint shudder, the carriage began moving again.
After it left the station, the thick fog still lingered, but long, rainbow-like rivers of orange light began appearing in the distance.
They were an illusion caused by the train's excessive speed, the fleeting lights leaving afterimages on the retina.
Once the train switched tracks and left the city behind, they gradually faded.
The scenery rushing backward grew sparse as well, leaving only darkness formed from endless shadows. Against the warm, bright interior lighting, it seemed like another world.
Had they looked out the carriage windows now, the passengers might have felt as though they were falling into an abyss.
But even without the leisure to admire the scenery, the mages inside still experienced that sensation.
They watched the two women and one man standing in the center of the carriage.
Beside those involved, Olga Marie and Caleb seized upon the momentary sway as the carriage started to find an excuse to lower their heads.
Naturally, the other mages were even less willing to make a sound. They abandoned even the idea of watching the spectacle.
Roland's response was quite appropriate. Refusing an invitation on the grounds that he already had company was a very clear answer.
But... that also depended on the timing and the people involved.
Granted, an attendant who could accompany a Living Saint was naturally no ordinary person.
But she clearly could not compare to Lorelei Barthomeloi, who ruled the Clock Tower and commanded a measure of respect even from the heretic-ridden Burial Agency.
Roland's behavior was like taking the hand of the maid beside him when a princess invited him to dance at a ball.
An excessively large disparity in status would lead onlookers to compare the two,