When Viola eyed him warily, Octavia drew lines between the girl and her questionably-wealthy not-so-stranger with her eyes. Viola winced the moment it clicked.

"Drey, this is my friend Viola," she offered almost immediately. "And, uh, my other friend, Madrigal."

She'd nearly forgotten the latter, still utterly wordless and in exactly the same starstruck pose she'd been left in. Octavia was starting to wonder if it was permanent.

"Miss Viola, Miss Madrigal, it's a pleasure to meet you both," Drey greeted with a respectful bow. Whatever was going on with Madrigal was of little concern, apparently. Octavia hoped the Maestra was satisfied with her first impression.

Viola didn't miss a beat. Her returned curtsey was admirable and graceful, far from what Octavia would've been able to emulate. "It's our pleasure, sure. Thank you for watching over our Octavia tonight."

Octavia rolled her eyes. Being wildly disoriented and being incompetent were two different things.

Drey smiled, waving the little pink passports gently. "I apologize for the time it took to receive them, but here they are nonetheless. I heard your skilled bidding on yet another set, as well. Splendid work!"

Octavia smiled in earnest. "It was still pretty scary, but thank you."

"Still, that you would seek out a second pair so soon is intriguing. Have you more than one companion for your journey to the Blessed City?" he asked, curious eyes trailing the room for what she presumed was an answer.

"I've got Madrigal," Octavia mentioned, gesturing to her wordless companion. "I've also got one more friend who isn't in here right now. Definitely needed more than two."

The sudden nudge to her ankle made her jump. Her eyes flickered downwards and found one flat tapping the back of her heel repeatedly. When she met Viola's eyes, the slight shake of the Maestra's head was nearly too subtle to notice. It wasn't quite invisible, and she flushed. Kind as he was, he was still technically a stranger. Effective immediately, Octavia bit her tongue.

She tenderly embraced the offered passports from his waiting hands, her smile just a bit too strained to be legitimate. "T-Thank you for these, by the way. It was really nice of you to bid for me."

By comparison, Drey's smile was more than genuine. "Of course, my friend! The pleasure of your company was all I could ask for. I will be here a while longer, I suppose. I will admit, I have purchased a fair bit more than was intended. It will surely take time for the items to be prepared for transport."

"Mr. Drey, sir," Viola began, "how many purchases did you make tonight?"

Drey chuckled. "In truth, I may have lost count. Several paintings, multiple sculptures, and a lovely piano well in need of attention that was identified for me by a friend of yours."

His grin was for her. Octavia blushed.

"The passports, of course," he continued, "and…something else that I am awaiting patiently."

Octavia tensed. It was becoming unavoidable. Viola battled the approaching subject, to her credit. "How will you be transporting everything?"

She had little luck. Drey's voice was already distant, his eyes roaming the room dangerously. "Transport? Yes, we will be using the railway. It will be no issue to send our purchases tonight back to Solenford. Before that matter, there is something of greater importance I must address."

He was startlingly successful, if not synchronized with Octavia's own realization. Their eyes landed upon the same strained expression and neat grays in unison, small and buried in the depths of the crowd. She was visibly anxious, if her iron grip around the clarinet was worth anything. Her own gaze darted rapidly in every direction, her movements slow and her discomfort practically radiant from afar. If Octavia didn't know any better, the girl could've passed as hopelessly lost.

Either Drey didn't notice her guarded demeanor or didn't care. From what Octavia knew of him thus far, she could believe either one. "Miss, miss!" he called much too loudly, waving high with the same brilliant smile.

The girl's eyes snapped to his own instantly, and she recoiled. In her defense, even Octavia was still growing used to his volume. Still, the degree to which the girl was on edge had Octavia raising an eyebrow.

She raised one finger hesitantly, gesturing to herself. He nodded fervently, never doffing the same smile. It took more than several seconds for her to oblige his excited gestures at all. Every step towards him rippled with discomfort so contagious it may as well have stained the carpet. What silent composure she'd conjured was excellently betrayed by the tiniest tremble of her hands around every key, the innocent rosewood pulled tightly against her chest.

"W-What do you want?" she stammered, her eyes suddenly scraping the floor.

Octavia was sincerely starting to think Drey was immune to hostilities. "Your performance was marvelous, miss. Thank you for treating us to such a show."

His praise was lost on the girl, who only fidgeted with yet more billowing discomfort. She didn't so much as acknowledge her buyer as she thrust the instrument out before her. "Take it. You bought it, right? Here."

Octavia glanced at Viola, earning the same puzzled expression in return over the girl's demeanor. Drey, as could be expected, was nonplussed. He didn't pry, wrapping his fingers delicately around the neck of the clarinet. He never tugged, and it was at last enough to draw the Maestra's attention.

He smiled gently. "I do not mean to intimidate you, miss. My words are sincere."

Her eyes widened for a brief moment before her firm grip relaxed. The instrument nearly fell, for how quickly she set it free. It took effort on Drey's part to hurriedly recapture it with fumbling hands. "I-It's fine. Do whatever you want with it. I don't need it anymore."

"Now, miss, my bid was not simply for the clarinet alone, do you recall?" he added. "Would you grant me the pleasure of knowing your name?"

The girl's anxious eyes traveled rapidly. It was not Drey alone they touched upon, but yet two more Maestras who flinched in turn beneath her nervous gaze. "Give me yours first," she demanded of the businessman.

He didn't hesitate. "Alessandro Drey," he offered with yet another bow.

So, too, did he offer up another tiny card, pinched between careful fingers as he swiftly withdrew it from within his suit jacket. Octavia had half a mind to wonder if the same voice would intrude upon her thoughts once more. It was enough of a passing concern to leave her palms clammy. This was definitely not the time.

The girl hesitated, eventually plucking the little card from his fingers with a trembling touch of her own. "Cadence," she muttered.

Drey smiled. "Cadence," he repeated. "What a lovely name."

She relaxed slightly. Still, in the face of his warmth, she was blunt by comparison. "When will I receive the payment?"

Drey laughed. "Straight to business, then! Quite admirable. You would surely make a fine businesswoman, if you so chose the path. I believe it should take five to seven business days, provided memory serves me well."

His eyes fell to Viola. "Miss Vacanti, was it? How long do these affairs typically span, in your experience?"

Viola twitched at her side. Octavia couldn't help but do the same. For all the time she'd spent with Drey, she'd never once mentioned the Maestra's last name. Viola said as much, every word more than defensive. "How do you know my name?"

Drey only gave her an endearing gaze. "Why, dear girl, I would only assume that you are the splitting image of your father. Am I not correct? How often have I witnessed his skillful business sense at so many events within these walls? It has truly been quite some time, granted. Where has he been?"

Viola closed her eyes, inhaling sharply. "Five to seven business days sounds about right," she spoke with words equally pointed.

"I need it sent to my personal account," the girl interrupted. "It can't be sent to my school account or my family account. I filed for a separate one."

Drey nodded. "I see. I will not pry, but I will see to it that such will be done. I will speak to who must be spoken to and ensure the correct transfer. Have no worries, Miss Cadence."

Cadence exhaled slowly, one heavy breath rattling on the way out. "Thank you."

"With that said," he continued, his tone brightening, "I've many questions for you, miss. I simply must ask of your splendid performance earlier."

Octavia stifled a gasp. Logically, she'd known it was coming. She had no idea what ignorant part of her had sincerely believed in the possibility Drey may have forgotten. At her side, Viola's eyes were screwed shut, fingers crossed tightly behind her back. Octavia couldn't help but do the same.

Cadence only shook her head. "I don't…want to talk about it. It's nothing. I just wanted to sell the clarinet. It was a trick. Please don't tell anyone that. I hope you're not angry about it."

The disappointment Octavia found on Drey's face, subtle as it was, was spectacularly welcome. She prayed it would stay that way. For now, she didn't dare uncross her fingers or release the breath she held so desperately.

"Is that so," Drey murmured. "I assure you, I am not cross at all. Your company was more than worth the price, my friend. Still, an incredible trick nonetheless. Tell me, then, how did you do it? Were the staff involved?"

The girl once more didn't answer, her bangs brushing against her glasses as she shook her head twice over. "I still don't want to talk about it. It's a secret. Just don't tell."

Drey nodded, his face still lined with dissatisfaction. At last, Octavia breathed her beautiful sigh of relief.

"Nevertheless," Drey continued, undeterred, "it would be an honor to learn more of you, Miss Cadence. Have I heard correctly that you hail from Solenford?"

Cadence nodded in turn, her eye contact with the businessman notably stronger. "Yeah. Solenford."

Drey smiled, gesturing to the delicate card between her fingers. "If you look there, miss, you will see that I, too, am of Solenford myself. Is that not a wonderful coincidence?"

The girl's eyes drifted across the little paper once more half-heartedly. "Yeah," she repeated.

"If you would not mind my asking, would you happen to attend the Solenford Girls' Academy?" he asked. "I believe I recognize that uniform."

Cadence stiffened slightly. "Yeah," she muttered once more.

"Do you enjoy it there?" Drey asked.

Cadence winced, her fingernails digging into the fabric of her skirt. "It's…prestigious," she answered slowly.

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Drey didn't pry. "Tell me, Miss Cadence, would you perhaps take interest in an internship? I have once spoken with the headmaster of that particular academy long ago. They have engaged in excellent partnerships with organizations of all causes, both near and far. I believe you may stand to benefit from one such experience. It would surely count towards your curriculum, as well."

Cadence blinked. "Internship?"

Drey nodded with excitement, the same radiant smile plastered across his face. "Yes, yes! I would like to formally offer to you an intern position at the Solenford Institute of Architecture and Restoration--if it should pique your interest, of course."

"Oh, God."

When all eyes fell to Viola in the wake of her murmured words, the Maestra clapped one hand quickly over her mouth.

"Is everything alright, Miss Vacanti?" Drey asked with concern.

Viola nodded vehemently. "Y-Yes, sorry! I just…thought I saw a spider on my dress? It must've been my imagination, it's getting really late."

Drey smiled. It was enough of an excuse, apparently. "That it is. Miss Cadence, what do you say to my offer?" he pressed.

He hardly needed to. Cadence didn't hesitate in the slightest. "I'll do it. Is boarding included?"

"But of course. I will see to it that every aspect of your stay is handled, free of charge. You will be as one of my own staff, sheltered and cared for. You will have nothing to fear."

"Then sure," she spoke quickly. "When will I start?"

Drey seemed almost taken aback by her hurried agreement, if the look on his face was anything to go by. "If you would like, you are more than welcome to return with my staff and I to Solenford. Perhaps tonight we may dine together, by which I may come to know you better--if you would be comfortable with such, of course. I realize it was simply minutes ago that we were but strangers, my friend."

Cadence didn't falter. "That's fine."

Octavia was sweating. This was a new problem entirely.

"Should I contact your parents? I could reach out to--"

"No," Cadence interrupted sharply. "We can just go."

Drey raised an eyebrow. He didn't push. "Purely out of curiosity, how is it you came all the way to Coda, miss?"

Cadence tortured the fabric of her skirt, twisting with far too much force. "Train."

"That is easily over a week's travel by railway. Solenford is quite a ways away from Coda. Were you not lonely?"

"No," she answered curtly once more.

Drey tilted his head. "You are quite an independent young woman, clearly-- and a marvelous musician, at that. Tell me this, then. With your talent, why is it you part with such a splendid instrument?"

Once more were Octavia's fingers crossed. The Maestra had held fast to her silence thus far. So, too, did Octavia pray she could hold fast to her luck.

"I just don't want it anymore," she answered with a shrug. "I don't like playing it. I wanted to make something off it, instead."

Drey's face fell slightly. "With your skill, that is somewhat of a shame. However, I respect your rationale, whatever it may be. Are my questions beginning to drain you, my friend?"

"Yes."

"Is that so?" he asked with a laugh. "I do apologize for pressing so heavily. Now, then, are you prepared for our departure? I will be certain to temper my curious tongue at dinner, I assure you."

"W-Wait," Octavia interjected.

The moment every gaze landed on her instead, it was all she could do to lie through her teeth in a panic. "Uh, Drey, can we talk to Cadence before you go? It's the first time we've…met another girl our age at the auction tonight. W-We were curious about some stuff, too."

That part wasn't even slightly a lie.

Drey only smiled, much to her relief. "That is perfectly alright with me. Have her come when she is ready."

Cadence scowled. Octavia didn't particularly enjoy enduring those eyes. Viola didn't let Drey escape regardless, raising her voice the moment he pivoted sharply on one heel.

"Mr. Drey, sir, one last thing!" she called.

He turned yet again to face her in full. "Yes, Miss Vacanti?"

Viola raised one rose-tinted booklet aloft. "The passports. How exactly do we use them? Where do we go to get to the city?"

Drey beamed. "Ah, yes! I nearly forgot to mention. You will find the railway station at the east end of Coda. Each Sunday, there is a train that departs to the Blessed City. Simply be sure to show the conductor your passports, and you shall be granted passage. No ticket is necessary for the voyage."

"How long is the actual trip?" Viola asked.

"Three days' time from departure, nonstop to Velrose," he offered. "All you shall need for lodging will be provided to you. As for myself and my staff, we will be departing north. You are always welcome to visit Solenford, should you be willing to tolerate the lengthy journey. This is where we part ways, it seems."

"Thank you for all of your help, Drey," Octavia added. "Honestly."

Drey beamed, and Octavia returned his smile in earnest. "It was more than my pleasure, Miss Ellis. I wish you and your companions safe travels. May we cross paths again someday!"

He waved, and she waved back until he was well out of sight. If he were to speak as he slipped into the steadily-dispersing crowd, Octavia was certain she could've trailed his familiar voice anywhere. She had half a mind to wonder if Cadence could do the same, for how she'd eventually be forced to catch up with him herself. The moment he departed, the same anxiety had blanketed the girl once more. Being bordered by two Maestras surely didn't help.

"You're lying."

It was neither Octavia nor Viola who pressed her first. It was soft. It was a third Maestra Octavia had outright forgotten was present.

Cadence stepped back. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

Madrigal stepped forward.

Octavia's eyes flickered to Viola's. She found only identical confusion. "Listen, we just want to talk for a bit," Octavia offered instead.

"I don't want to talk to you," Cadence answered, her voice wavering.

Again, she stepped back. Again, Madrigal stepped forward.

"Why are you getting rid of it?"

It was a tone she'd never heard out of Madrigal's mouth, typically bubbly and overflowing with enthusiasm as every word was. It was unnerving, far too flat and severe for the vibrant Maestra. Octavia flinched.

Cadence glanced over her shoulder. Every panicked step in reverse drew nearer to a wall. For each movement backwards, Madrigal claimed yet another forwards. Octavia shuddered simply watching the display, the lightning-blessed Maestra rapidly driven into a literal corner.

"I-I just don't want it anymore," she breathed.

"Madrigal, are you alright?" Viola asked.

"What's its name?" Madrigal murmured.

"It doesn't matter," Cadence spat, gasping sharply the moment her back collided with the wall in full. "It doesn't matter," she repeated.

"It does," Madrigal spoke coolly. "What's its name?" she asked once more.

"Why do you care so much?" Cadence growled, desperately and futilely flattening herself against the masonry.

"What's its name?" Madrigal asked thrice over.

"Madrigal, take it easy," Octavia pleaded, settling one hand on the Maestra's shoulder.

"What's its name?"

"Madrigal, what is this about?" Viola pressed, slipping between the two Maestras.

Octavia had thought to do the same, beaten to it by seconds. Cadence didn't resist. The look of discomfort on Viola's face the moment she faced Madrigal in full was contagious. If Octavia inched closer, she could catch Madrigal's eyes in the girl's glassy peripheral, simultaneously focused and not. They were sharp and dull all at once, razor-edged and lightless. What sparkling chocolate Octavia had grown accustomed to was absent, if not veiled. The chill that claimed her was almost painful.

Her voice was monotone, strikingly neutral. Her body language spoke to far less of the same, for how she'd cornered the lightning Maestra and still pressured her even now. "Say it."

"E-Etherion," Cadence hissed. "Now leave me alone!"

Madrigal blinked twice. "Etherion," she echoed.

"Etherion," Viola repeated as well. "Is that your Harmonial Instrument's name?"

"I don't want to talk about it, I told you! I don't even know who you all are!" Cadence shouted, digging her fingernails sharply into her shoulders.

They were pushing it. At the end of the day, she was a Maestra, more than threatened on every side and unaware of their intent. Unwilling or not, she was clearly gifted, and that had been more than clear to see. Were she to return with the instrument and retaliate, the resulting crisis would be both somewhat justified and an absolute nightmare. Octavia adjusted the backpack on her shoulders slowly. She hadn't needed its radiant contents the entire night, thankfully. She very much did not want to start now.

Viola's voice softened. "We're Maestras, too. All of us. We should've said that first, sorry. We just want to talk about some stuff."

Viola's exchange was irrelevant--ironically, given their initial focus. It was Madrigal, rather, that Octavia couldn't help but fixate on. She'd finally given Cadence much-needed space, blessing the girl with precious distance as she took several slow steps backwards. She blinked repeatedly, her eyelids fluttering time after time.

"Madrigal, are you okay?" she whispered.

Madrigal raised her somewhat-teary eyes to Octavia, wiping stray droplets away with one finger. "Sorry! I think I got something in my eyes. I'll be okay!"

Octavia thought to press. Still, Cadence was louder. "I don't care who you are, and I don't care what you want to talk about. I'm not involved in this crap anymore. Just let me live my life!"

Viola raised an eyebrow. "Not involved? You're a Maestra."

"I don't want to be," Cadence growled. "Not anymore. I renounce it."

"Then what the hell were you doing up there on that stage?" Viola argued. "Messing around with...whatever all that was? You just painted a huge target on your back. Everyone knows you're a Maestra now, whether or not you want them to."

Cadence's breathing was far too heavy. "I-I...they don't know that, they think it's the clarinet! You heard that man, everyone thinks it's a trick. I just wanted it to sell higher. That was the truth."

"Why do you need that much money?" Octavia asked gently. "You said you wouldn't go lower than 32,000,000, right? Why so much?"

"It's none of your business," Cadence spat. "I don't want to talk about it."

Viola frowned. "Listen, as Maestras, we have a right to know if--"

Cadence's eyes narrowed. "We don't come from the same worlds. If you're standing here tonight, in this building, because you want to, I know that for a fact. You don't know me. You don't know anything about me. Let me leave!"

"You're really fine going with a total stranger?" Viola snarled. "Are you out of your mind?"

"If you were in my shoes, you'd do the same," she spoke with venom. "Let me leave."

Viola didn't argue further, falling quiet for a moment. "Don't tell him anything--about us, about our world, anything," she warned sharply.

Cadence's fingers curled into fists at her sides. "Do you think I'm stupid? Of course I won't. I don't want to be involved in any of this anymore. Don't talk to me again."

Octavia had more or less lost track of Drey's general vicinity. Cadence hadn't, apparently, given how swiftly she shoved past every Maestra on her way through. Her pace left nothing more to be said, her steps hurried and her stress lingering in the open air. Viola didn't stop her. Octavia didn't dare try, either.

"Do you really think she won't talk?" she asked aloud hesitantly.

Viola threw her arms up in exasperation. "I honestly don't know. I hope to God she doesn't. She seemed eager enough to leave everything behind her."

"Why would she not want to be a Maestra?" Madrigal murmured. It was a scathing relief to hear her voice painted with life once more.

Viola inhaled deeply. "I guess...not everyone wants to be a Maestro or Maestra. I can understand why."

"Madrigal, all that earlier, asking about her Harmonial Instrument. What got into you?" Octavia pressed. There was no point in holding onto it much longer.

Madrigal tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"I've never seen you that…confrontational before, I guess. What gives?"

Madrigal paused for a moment. "Lyra really wanted to know," she finally spoke with a satisfied smile.

Octavia blinked.

"But…Lyra isn't--"

"Are you guys alright?" she heard from afar, footsteps falling softly against plush velvet again and again. "Sorry I left you in here by yourselves!"

They had absolutely, under no circumstances, been "by themselves" at any point. The amount of faces--and voices--Octavia had encountered tonight alone were dizzying enough to almost make her wish otherwise.

"You're fine," Viola answered with a smile. "Thanks for the distraction. Sorry you skipped all the fun stuff."

Harper came to a gentle stop, catching his breath as he stretched comfortably. "Judging by the looks on your faces, I'm guessing I missed a lot. I'm sure you'll catch me up on everything, right?"

Madrigal beamed. "How did things go with your friends?"

Harper exhaled heavily. "Once again, not my friends. Would rather die than change my mind on that. Eventually got them pissed off enough that they left. Don't know where they ended up, and I don't want to know. Nowhere positive, I'm sure. I don't think they ever even realized you guys got in."

"Look what we got," Madrigal added, plucking one rosy leather booklet from Viola's hand.

"Neat," he said, poking the leather delicately. "Uh…what is it?"

"Passports to a city called Velrose, apparently. Octavia's idea. Seems like she found something that might be a lead for us," Viola answered.

Harper grinned. "That's awesome! Nice work!"

When Octavia didn't acknowledge his praise, he tapped her shoulder. "You okay?"

She wasn't, actually. For everything that had clicked neatly into place tonight, there was infinitely more that had slashed holes in a puzzle she didn't realize existed. Eleanor Vacanti would only be able to fill in so many gaps on her behalf, given the specificity of her experiences. With her eyes flickering to the little pink passports repeatedly, her head felt fuzzy. Hours ago, she'd suspected this entire idea would be a reach. Now, she truly was in too deep.

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