Somehow, between looks and silence, the two women reached an understanding.
Evelyn and Elizabeth grew closer—talking, laughing, even sharing a strange sort of camaraderie. Left alone together, things were surprisingly peaceful. Almost pleasant.
Daniel, however, remained the variable.
Whenever he tried to step in—say something clever, offer an opinion, or simply exist—the atmosphere shifted instantly.
Peace became tension.
Tension became shouting.
Shouting became a battlefield.
He genuinely didn't understand it. Just moments ago, they'd been getting along perfectly. Smiling. Agreeing.
Then he walked in.
And suddenly, it was a warzone.
Daniel stood there more than once, blinking in confusion, wondering how he alone had the power to turn harmony into chaos without even trying.
That, of course, was exactly Elizabeth and Evelyn's plan.
If Daniel ever grew too comfortable with the arrangement, he would absolutely start getting ideas—dangerous ones.
Other women, other adventures, more "accidental" complications. Neither of them had any intention of letting that happen.
So they made sure of one thing.
He would never be comfortable.
Whenever Daniel was around, chaos followed. Arguments sparked out of nowhere. Glares were exchanged. Tempers flared just enough to keep him constantly on edge, unsure of where he stood or what he'd done wrong this time.
But the moment he left?
Peace.
Evelyn and Elizabeth got along just fine—better than fine, actually. Evelyn loved explaining things: the world, its changes, how time had reshaped society. Elizabeth loved listening, asking questions, absorbing everything with bright curiosity.
For Elizabeth, it was a world two hundred years beyond her own—full of wonders she could never have imagined. For Evelyn, it was oddly refreshing to see someone experience it all with genuine awe.
Together, they were friends.
Daniel just wasn't allowed to know that.
***
Today, as part of Elizabeth's London tour, they are at the British Museum.
Evelyn walked a little ahead, clearly in her element, gesturing as she explained the statues and artifacts around them—stone figures worn smooth by centuries, carved reliefs telling stories of gods, kings, and wars long forgotten.
"This one's Mesopotamian," she said, pausing beside a towering sculpture. "Over four thousand years old. And that gallery over there is Egyptian—dynasties, burial rites, mythology, the whole lot."
Elizabeth followed closely, listening with interest. At first, it all fascinated her. The craftsmanship. The age. The sheer weight of history.
But after a while, something began to bother her.
She slowed, looking around more carefully.
"Evelyn," she said, hesitantly, "I understand why a country would keep relics from its own past. That makes sense."
Evelyn glanced at her. "Mm?"
Elizabeth gestured vaguely at the hall around them. "But why are there… so many from everywhere? Egypt. Greece. Persia. India. Lands I've never even heard of." She frowned slightly. "Why are all of them here?"
Evelyn stopped walking.
"Well, I have an answer to that," Daniel said evenly. "Most of them were taken—by the British Empire—when those countries were colonized."
Before the Second World War, much of the world was under the rule of the British Empire.
When the empire expanded, it didn't only take land—it took resources, wealth, and history. Many artifacts now displayed in museums were removed from colonies during this period, often without consent.
In India, British policies reshaped the economy to serve the empire, contributing to repeated famines in which millions died.
In Ireland, more than a million people died during the Great Famine while food continued to be exported.
In parts of Africa, colonial rule brought forced labor, repression, and violent crackdowns that erased communities and cultures.
So the British Museum isn't a collection from one nation—it's a collection from an empire.
Each relic carries not just history, but the shadow of how it arrived there.
"And you can see," Daniel said calmly, gesturing around them, "we're standing in one of the greatest halls in the world—and also one of the clearest proofs of British colonization."
He let the words settle before adding, more evenly, "Most of what you see here came from elsewhere. Taken, not gifted."
Then he shrugged slightly.
"But that was the past," he continued. "The world didn't stop there. Things are changing—slowly, imperfectly—but they are improving. And so are people. That's what makes them human… and unique."
Elizabeth looked around again, the statues and relics suddenly feeling heavier than before.
After the museum, the three of them ended up on the upper deck of a red double-decker bus and let London roll past them.
Street lamps lined the roads in steady rows, their yellow light reflecting off damp cobblestones.
Cars passed by—boxy, loud, nothing like ships or carriages—while pedestrians moved along the pavements with purpose, hats pulled low, coats buttoned tight.
Shop windows glowed warmly, displaying books, clothes, and curiosities Elizabeth had never seen before.
She leaned forward as the bus rolled over a bridge. Below, the Thames flowed dark and calm, dotted with reflections from the lamps along the embankment.
"I came to London once," she said quietly. "But it wasn't like this. It was louder… dirtier. And darker."
Evelyn glanced at her. "Cities change. Slowly, but they do."
Elizabeth nodded, eyes still moving. "There are no torches. No gas flames flickering in the wind." She looked up at one of the lamps as they passed beneath it. "They're steady. Reliable."
"So this is science?" Elizabeth asked after a moment, not turning away from the view. "Not spells or blessings. Just… people building things better and better."
"Yes,"
She thought about that, then smiled faintly. "It feels very ordinary to you," she said. "But to me, it's extraordinary."
"There is one extraordinary thing that can't be explained," Evelyn added, her eyes shifting to Daniel.
Elizabeth followed her gaze.
Daniel was behind them, crouched slightly to be at eye level with a small boy sitting beside his mother. He had produced a coin from nowhere, rolled it across his knuckles, then made it vanish entirely.
The child stared, wide-eyed, before breaking into delighted laughter as Daniel returned the coin from behind the boy's ear.
"I agree," Elizabeth said softly. "Some things can be explained."
Her eyes lingered on Daniel a moment longer.
"But him," she added, "I'm certain cannot."
*****
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