Lucky Rabbit

When Pandy stepped out of the carriage, it was like stepping into Gacha Love all over again. Each time Clara traveled from one place to another, there was the image of a little carriage, followed by a short video sweeping into the new area. It started up high, showing the entire space, then came down to eye level, merging with Clara’s view – or in this case, Pandy’s.

Golden Park was exactly what its name suggested – a perfect park filled with beautiful people and golden statues of former kings and queens, as well as other famous people. To Pandy’s right was a massive fountain, featuring not one but three statues, along with several more creatures that were almost definitely porpoises, each spouting water in a high arch. Ahead lay a wide walkway, filled with men in fancy suits and women with skirts almost as broad as Lady Reedsley’s. To Pandy’s left, more of the beautiful people wandered in a rose garden filled with blooms the size of her head.

As the carriage drove away, Augustus turned to look at Pandy, brows raised. “If you’re hoping to see the Grange displays, I’m afraid we’re too late. The judging starts here, and half of the items have probably been sold.”

Pandy shook her head, standing on tiptoes to look over the crowd ahead of them. “Not exactly. I am here to shop, but what I want isn’t- Oh!” She squeaked as hands closed around her waist, lifting her into the air. Augustus gave only a small grunt as he raised her up, which Pandy found very impressive, because she wasn’t a lightweight.

Staring around, Pandy caught a glimpse of silver among all the gold and pointed. “There!”

Augustus brought her down, looking slightly flushed, but offered her his arm as he said, “Shall we walk and talk? I assume this is something else from your… game?”

Pandy started to lay her hand on his arm, realized he was too tall, and gingerly slipped her fingers into the crook of his elbow from below. He had left his jacket behind in Lanthorne Court when he fled the Needle and Tread, so all that lay between his skin and her fingers was the thin material of his shirt. They’d been far closer – most notably when he was carrying her around in his shirt – but not only was she human this time, they were also in public. Together. And anyone who saw them would probably assume they were a cou- A coup- Together.

Augustus didn’t even seem to notice, gently drawing her fingers up until they rested on his forearm, then laid his other hand over hers, holding them in place not through force but through Pandy’s utter unwillingness to ruin the moment. Then they began to walk, and when he bent his head down to listen to her, their proximity brought their faces so close together that Pandy had to force herself to breathe enough to speak.

“During the Fall Festival, Clara hasn’t chosen her One True Love yet, so there are many options still open to her. It’s the first romantic event, so she has a chance to spend time with each boy,” Pandy explained, barely remembering to watch where they were going, rather than just staring into his beautiful stormy eyes. If the place hadn’t been so crowded, she probably would have stumbled off the path already, but the constant flow of people carried them along.

“But there’s another option,” Pandy said, finally tearing her eyes away to look for her target, only to find her view blocked by a woman with the same taste in hats as Lady Reedsley. This lady’s headgear was almost as tall as she was, and the man with her tilted away as if the chapeau might topple and crush him. Pandy leaned over so she could see around the couple, which made her press even closer to Augustus, but when she realized that and jerked away, his hand kept her in place like iron shavings clinging to a magnet.

With a little cough, Pandy said, “If Clara chooses to leave the boys behind and strike out on her own, she ends up here. But it’s only an option if she already unlocked it by completing an optional side quest.”

“And you did that… side quest,” Augustus said, lingering over the words as if they were some special treat.

Pandy nodded, and when a gap opened beside the woman-wearing hat, Pandy darted through it, nearly losing Augustus in the process. He had to step off of the path, onto the perfectly manicured grass, and Pandy was almost surprised there wasn’t a sudden surge of outrage among the people promenading nearby. No such thing happened, and Pandy pointed toward the silvery beacon ahead of her, plowing ahead as she saw the man she was looking for.

It was only as they drew close enough to see the familiar, morose expression on his long face that Pandy thought to tell Augustus, “Don’t do or say anything, no matter what, all right?” Again, his brows shot up, but he gave her a bemused smile and nodded agreeably.

Pandy plowed into the unhappy stranger, and he dropped the piece of paper he was staring at. Augustus let go of Pandy and started to lean down to pick it up, forcing Pandy to place her foot on the corner of the page, blocking his questing fingers. When he glanced up at her, she actually managed a credible What did I just say look.

Pandy picked up the paper and held it out to M. Piers Avington. She wasn’t sure what the ‘M’ stood for, since no other character in the game had such a prefix. While the general consensus on the forums was that it was a typo for Mr, Pandy had never been convinced, since as far as she knew, no similar errors existed elsewhere. In fact, Gacha Love was almost unrealistically perfect, with none of the glitches or translation errors that plagued similar games.

“I’m very sorry,” she said, trying to brush off the smudge of dirt transferred from the sole of her boot. Then, as he accepted the page with trembling fingers, she leaned forward and said, “Are you all right?” She couldn’t quite pull off the sweet concern Clara offered so effortlessly, but the man looked touched anyway.

“It’s fine,” he said as he, too, attempted to clean the page. Seeing that it was impossible, he gave a soft sigh and began to fold the paper. It had obviously been through this process many times before, with heavy creases softened by use.

Reaching out, Pandy gently laid her fingers over his and said, “Please. I’ve been told I’m easy to talk to, and I have nothing else to do but listen.”

For the first time, M. Piers Avington truly looked at her, and for a moment he seemed confused, almost as if he’d expected to see someone else there before him. Then his expression cleared, and he said, “It’s nothing a… a lady like you can help with, my dear. But I appreciate you asking.”

Not a young lady for Pandy, no, but otherwise he was right on track. She sighed and looked around, her eyes passing right over Augustus. “Oh,” she said. “I was supposed to meet someone here, and I was hoping I might pass the time chatting with you.”

Piers Avington glanced toward Augustus, but the chancellor was examining a particularly plump pigeon perched precariously on the point of the sword the statue displayed. “I don’t know,” the man said doubtfully, but Pandy gave him her most reassuring smile, and he sighed, defeated.Unfolding the paper, M. Piers Avington held it out toward Pandy. “This is a letter from my beloved, whose family moved away years ago. Her parents never approved of our match, since I’m only a musician, not nearly good enough for her. But she loved me, and I her, so they took her away in order to keep us apart.”

Pandy accepted the page, which was the same tear-stained missive written in lilac ink that Clara had read in Gacha Love. There might be fewer tears, and the folds weren’t quite as well worn, but Pandy didn’t need to read it to know what it said.

“Her parents died, and now she wants you to come join her,” Pandy said, moving her eyes over the page. “She’s given you one year, at which point she’ll assume you no longer love her, and she’ll have to marry someone else.” There was no mention of why the lady couldn’t come to M. Piers Avington, which didn’t entirely make sense in the real world in which Pandy found herself, but in the game, all that mattered was how Clara responded.

“Oh, you must go, sir!” Pandy cried, reaching out to take his hands. “At once!”

Piers Avington plucked the letter from Pandy’s grip, and tucked it back into his jacket, sighing. “I can’t,” he said sadly. “As I said, I’m only a poor musician. She lives across the sea, and there’s no way I can afford the necessary ticket.” Once again, his face fell into the deep lines of despondency they had been in when she arrived.Pandy bit her lip, trying to look indecisive, though on the inside she was so happy she almost would have been willing to dance in public. “I could… loan you some money?” she offered, and saw Augustus stiffen, though he didn’t quite turn to look at her. “I’m not wealthy, but I would hate to see True Love fail simply because of a lack of gold. You say the lady is wealthy, so perhaps you could send money back once you’re married.”

He looked up, misery turning to sudden hope. “Could you? But-” he hesitated, and Pandy realized she’d made at least one serious mistake. At this point, Clara was dressed in one of her lovely, classic gowns, and while it wasn’t the latest fashion, she obviously wasn’t a commoner. Pandy, on the other hand, was wearing pants. Still, he’d gotten this far, so M. Piers Avington forged ahead.

“I’m afraid the ticket costs five hundred gold,” he said, whispering the last few words. “And while I appreciate the thought, there’s no way you should trust a complete stranger with so much.” Even if you had it, hung between them, but Pandy ignored the unspoken words as he continued following the script.

Turning to the heroic statue behind them, he pointed to it. “Believe it or not, this is my many-times-great-grandfather, General Preston Avington. He fought alongside Nora herself in the Great War. As a reward for his bravery and loyalty, he was given an estate in Knightmere on the very day the city was founded.”

He looked embarrassed but dignified as he continued, turning his face and holding up his arm in almost exactly the same position as the statue behind him. There was indeed some similarity in their faces, though M. Piers Avington looked, not to put too fine a point on it, a bit dissolute beneath his tears.

“The family has fallen onto hard times, I’m afraid,” he said, “and all that’s left is that estate. It’s in poor condition, since we haven’t had the funds to maintain or restore it in several generations, but I’d be willing to sign a letter giving it over to you in exchange for five hundred gold.” He lowered his hand, but kept his face turned up to the sun, so it clearly revealed a profile that most people would probably see as aristocratic and handsome.

By now the scam was obvious, and Pandy wondered if anyone ever actually fell for this. She supposed they must, though, because otherwise, why would he bother? Though perhaps Keros’s magic was helping, because she honestly hadn’t been certain this man would even be here this year. Pandy hesitated. “I do have enough, but five hundred gold is a lot of money. I’m not sure-”

“Of course,” he hurried on, voice all but throbbing with sincerity, “when I reach my beloved’s side, I’ll return every coin, along with some extra for your trouble, and you can return the deed to the house. You can consider it… collateral against a loan, as it were.”

Pandy let her body relax, and she smiled. “That’s fine, then. I’m sure you wouldn’t do anything to risk a place that means so much to you.”

Piers Avington smiled back, and while his in-game avatar simply looked pathetically grateful, there was something predatory in the glitter of the real world version’s eyes. “Oh, thank you, kind lady! I can’t tell you how much this means to me!” He patted himself down, then withdrew an ancient envelope from some hidden pocket.Offering it to Pandy, he said, “This is the very thing I was pondering when you appeared. I could, of course, sell the estate for far more than the five hundred gold, but I simply couldn’t bear the disappointment of all the Avingtons who came before me. It was a choice between love and honor, and you have spared me of it.”

Pandy accepted the envelope, opening it to see a surprisingly well-preserved sheet of paper with a gilt border and beautiful calligraphy that was so elaborate it was difficult to read the words. One thing that was clear was the name M. PIERS AVINGTON scrawled on a line at the bottom, with a space beneath it for another name.

“It’s magical, of course,” M. Piers Avington said. “Once you give me the gold, I’ll sign it over to you.” He waited expectantly, and Pandy reached into her pocket.

In the game, the transfer took place through the simple words, ‘Clara paid M. Piers Avington 500 Gold.’ Reality, of course, was far more complex, and as Pandy dug money from her pocket in ten-gold increments, she saw Augustus turn back to them and open his mouth as if to speak several times. Each time, Pandy gave a tiny shake of her head, and continued shoveling money onto M. Piers Avington, who looked more and more befuddled as she went on.

Eventually, however, the last ten gold were handed over, and M. Piers Avington used the smooth stone base of the statue as a flat surface so he could sign the deed with a pen shaped like a tiny silver sword, after which Pandy did the same. It was only after this was done that his eyes widened as if in realization, and he said, “I nearly forgot! The estate has a magical lock. I’ll have to meet you there in order to open it for you.”

Pandy waved this offer away. “Oh no. It’s your home! I’m sure I’ll never even go there.” This, too, was on script, because what she wanted to say was, “Yes, do that, you lying, cheating cheater, so I can move into my new home!”

Piers Avington looked serious, and laid his hand over his heart – as well as a large number of coins that filled every pocket and fold of his clothing, pulling heavily at him, so it seemed like his reedy neck would snap beneath the weight. “Alas,” he said, “the voyage ahead of me is long and perilous. If anything should happen to me, it would ease my heart in my final moments to know that my ancestral home was safe with a lady of such grace and charity. Please, allow me to do this.”Pandy forced herself to count to three, then said, “If you insist…”

He clasped Pandy’s hand and gave it a half-shake, not bowing over it and kissing the back as he’d done with Clara, for which Pandy was grateful. “Then come to the address on Guising Eve. I’m afraid I’ll be busy making arrangements for my journey during the day, but everything should be done by evening.”

At this point, Pandy departed slightly from the game. Clara would have been hesitant, since she planned to go to the Masquerade Ball at Condor, but Pandy had no such reservations, and she really wanted this transaction to be over. She’d vastly underestimated just how icky it would make her feel. First-world Pandy had never had anything a conman would be interested in, and she really hadn’t paid attention to emails from that Nigerian prince who wanted her to send him money, especially after the third time the FBI showed up at her door looking for him.

Turning the limp handshake into a real one, Pandy said, “That’s fine. I can come by at about sundown, if that’s all right?” He looked a bit like a goldfish as he opened and closed his mouth, and Pandy released him.

“I… Yes, of course,” he managed, already backing away. “Sundown. I’ll just… I have to go… Make the arrangements. For my trip.”

She smiled brightly and waggled her fingers at him. “Oh good. Do give your fiancee my best, won’t you?”

He turned tail and ran.