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The carriage rocked gently, lulling you to sleep, but you couldn't sleep. Six years ago, when you were just beginning your journey in this world of shadows and intrigue, you couldn't have imagined that you'd find yourself here, in the company of these two, on yet another "clean" mission. And you certainly couldn't have imagined that your heart would be so treacherously aching with jealousy.

Across from you, on the other side of the carriage, sat Betsy and Like. Red. The same one who had been so absurdly and charmingly mistaken in thinking you liked Betsy. And now, his knee barely touched hers, and his arm rested casually on the back of the chair, as if embracing her. You saw him catch your gaze, and a spark of mischief flickered in his eyes. Slowly, demonstratively, he placed his hand on Betsy's shoulder.

Your gaze, full of silent reproach and hidden pain, met his. The tension in the air could have been cut with a knife. Betsy, noticing this silent duel, suddenly snapped her fingers between you, breaking the silence and bringing everyone back to reality.