A Market in Castle Hill
She wasn't really used to anyone talking to her at all. Most of the students and staff had no chance to be condescending; they simply never saw her. If they did have something to say to her, it was a request—an order. Delivered to her and then she was forgotten, under the assumption that she would simply do it. Which she usually did. She greatly preferred being wallpaper to this.
The other one ordered him to be silent, anyway. Aurelie might have been relieved, if he weren't being so very strange. She couldn't quite account for it, honestly. There was no need to be so—rude. She was doing what she was asked, wasn't she? Shouldn't someone look at you when speaking to you in this sort of situation? When she had started to be irritated by rudeness directed at her, she didn't know.
"A trial..." she murmured, mostly to herself, a small frown on her face. The cuffs were put on the wrists she had held out so obediently. She could feel gloved hands touch her just the smallest bit; she tensed her arms, wanting just from that to snatch them away. Absurd. She needed to get over that, too.
Maybe he'd seen her do it, because when he went on, his voice was harder than before. Preferable, at least, to that saccharine condescension from the other one. If she had to choose, anyway; lucky her, she got both. Only a week, and she'd be back. Aurelie's eyes closed again, her heart heavy. A month, she'd made it a whole month. She'd made it only a month. "So soon..."
But they weren't listening, at least she didn't think so. And it didn't matter, did it? She could say anything, as long as it wasn't "no". The cuffs and the bracelet came together and bit into her skin just enough that she couldn't ignore either one. Outside there were more. One backed away from her, as if she had proven fatal already. She pressed her mouth into a thin line, but she couldn't say she blamed him.
"Don’t mind Inspector Morandi." That was all she heard, and nothing after that. She knew the mustache was still speaking, of course. The shape of the words was there, but there was no meaning to them that she could divine. Aurelie froze where she was. She felt, rather suddenly, like she couldn't breath.
No. No, no, no. That was impossible. A coincidence, surely. There were—there had to be more Morandis in the world. An unrelated one, surely.
Who is the right age? Her mind was a traitor. The coloring was right, even if—she could never have pictured him so tall. Or so... He'd always been ill, and soft. In more ways than one; she had liked that. Serious, though. And if she listened, if she really listened... She knew where the accent was from, now. The mountains, not Florne or Anastou.
She was listening now; she couldn't help but listen. Aurelie looked up, at his face again. Standing here outside in the bright summer light, she could see more clearly. If she tried, she could see it. Just a bit— It had been so long, and so much was different— But it was there. It was like something had struck her, hard and unrelenting. Now that she saw it, she couldn't really see anything else.
"M-Morandi?" She didn't know what her face was doing, or her heart either. "De— ...N-no. Everything seems... clear."
What a pathetic lie that was. Nothing was clear at all. Not in front of her, not inside of her. But she wouldn't ask. Couldn't bear to know. Even if it was true... This was not her friend; that, at least, she was certain of. Aurelie blinked and looked away. "No questions. Thank you."