Charlotte walked alone on the streets of the Golden City.
Above her head, on the brass rails, a steam airship cast a huge shadow, then slowly moved away.
In the shop windows along the street, exquisite jewelry sparkled under the light of alchemy lamps, and gear decorations slowly rotated under the drive of mechanical arms.
She walked aimlessly.
Everything around her was so splendid, noisy, and full of life.
But none of it had anything to do with her.
She always felt a hollow in her heart, as if she had lost something very important.
This hollow feeling had been with her since she became conscious, like a scar carved into her soul.
She didn’t know what she had lost, but she knew she was always searching.
By day, she was Charlotte van Dorn, a somewhat famous jewelry appraiser.
She examined the gems presented before her with a magnifying glass, her posture elegant and speech proper.
Countless lovelorn young ladies and noblewomen would strike up conversations with her under the guise of appraising jewelry, trying to do something to her.
But they all failed.
At night, she became someone else.
The Phantom Thief Nightingale.
The most famous legend of the Golden City.
She moved between rooftops and clock towers like a black shadow, silently sneaking into those heavily guarded mansions.
She rarely stole valuables.
She broke into the young ladies’ bedchambers, standing by the bed as they slept, watching quietly.
Like a tireless treasure hunter, she scrutinized every young face, trying to find that familiar thrill that made her soul tremble.
But she searched countless nights and saw countless faces.
None of them.
Not one was the person she was looking for.
Until that afternoon three years ago.
She stood atop the tallest clock tower in the plaza, looking down at the bustling crowd below.
Then, she saw her.
Among the crowd, a dazzling flash of gold.
A girl in a blue dress, her golden hair flowing like liquid gold in the sunlight.
The moment she saw her, Charlotte felt her soul struck by lightning.
‘It’s her.’
This thought was branded into her mind like a hot iron.
An unprecedented impulse that almost tore her apart swept over her.
Her soul screamed, roared, urged.
‘Catch her, embrace her, knead her into your bones, fill that hollow too long empty.’
‘Take her home.’
‘I have to take her home.’
Charlotte acted without hesitation.
She leaped from the clock tower, her black coat spreading in the air like the wings of a night bird.
She had prepared the most splendid opening, the most moving lines.
She would first capture her attention, just as she had captivated the hearts of other young ladies in the past.
She landed precisely in front of the girl.
She saw her face clearly: golden hair, emerald eyes, like the most exquisite doll in a shop window.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Then she saw the girl lift her eyes.
Those emerald eyes held no admiration, only a hint of surprise.
She seemed to have scared her.
Just as Charlotte was thinking about how to apologize…
The next second, an elbow that looked slender and harmless, carrying an irresistible force, struck her flank precisely.
Charlotte felt as if she had been hit head-on by a steam truck going full speed.
Her vision went black, and her body flew like a kite with a broken string, tracing a beautiful parabola in the air before crashing heavily into a fountain five meters away.
Water splashed everywhere.
Before she lost consciousness, she saw the golden-haired girl quickly run to the fountain, lean over to look at her, a hint of confusion on her face.
She seemed to have said something to her, but Charlotte couldn’t hear anything.
When she woke up again, she was already in prison.
The Golden City rarely had prisoners who needed to serve time.
Phantom thieves were usually considered a city attraction; after being caught, they were fined a bit and released.
But the guards told her that the person she had attacked was the only daughter of Arthur Cromwell, the largest jeweler in the Golden City.
This was tantamount to challenging the city lord, a serious crime.
So, she spent a full three years in prison.
Three years, a whole three years ðŸ˜
A month ago, she was finally released.
This past month, she wandered the city like a ghost, trying to find traces of that golden-haired girl again.
But she had no clues.
And what troubled her even more was that damn Marriage Act, like a sword hanging over her head, closing in again.
She was almost 20 years old and had to get married.
She sat on a bench in the park, watching a huge steam clock tower in the distance strike the hour, gears turning, emitting a dull roar.
‘What should I do?’
‘Just register with someone at random?’
But her soul was still clamoring, searching for that person she had only seen once.
Just then, the Far-Talker in her pocket rang.
It was her number.
Charlotte was startled.
Who would be contacting her?
She hesitated slightly before choosing to answer.
“Hello?”
“Is this Miss Charlotte van Dorn? I am Madam Hongxian, Margaret.”
Charlotte’s eyebrows lifted slightly.
“What’s the matter?”
“I have a client here. She also needs to complete marriage registration within two months. Madam Hongxian’s voice was a bit distorted through the electric current, but still clear. She is quite satisfied with you. May I ask if you have any special requirements for your other half?”
Charlotte was silent.
‘Requirements?’
Her mind involuntarily conjured up that golden-haired girl from three years ago.
She spoke as if possessed:
“Golden hair, emerald eyes.”
“And preferably… strong.”