“Father, are you sure I’m supposed to be here?” Jade stared at her boss, who was calmly smoothing his moustache. “I mean, I don’t know how things work around here, and I’m definitely no detective. What kinda help can I even offer?”

  “Your quick thinking,” Father Rochester replied with a nod. “Yes, Miss Jade. I believe we need your present. You often notice details the rest of us overlook.”

  Jade looked at him, then at the noble-doe seated across her - sitting rigidly straight, like a student awaiting instruction. He met her gaze with round, pure, innocent, and earnest eyes.

  She sighed, crossed her arms, and sank back into her chair. “Fine. Let’s start from the beginning, then. Alright?”

  Ashborne nodded and began his account –

  On the day he encountered Jade in the town, Ashborne had gone to his laboratory as usual.

  “My Lord, I’ve managed to develop a formula based on Miss Jade’s draft!” Dr. Silas Blackwood, the laboratory director - the head of the research Ashborne sponsored - announced the news with a smile. It was stiff, almost forced.

  The atmosphere in the laboratory’s study was dim. For a brief moment, the air lightened at the announcement, only to sink back into its earlier gloom.

  After a short pause, Ashborne finally reacted, turning to Dr. Blackwood with visible delight - as though the words had taken a moment to reach him. “Truly? Following Miss Jade’s suggestion using refined grain whites and a creaming agent derived from oil and wax?”

  “And a small amount of zinc white,” Dr. Blackwood added quickly, noticing Ashborne’s slight frown. “Miss Jade advised testing safe, non-toxic pigments, and zinc white proved ideal. I also tested pearl powder - it works as well, though sourcing suitable pearls is rather troublesome…”

  Ashborne nodded. It was the first piece of genuinely good news he had heard in days - though it did little to ease the larger chaos pressing on him.

  “A sensible solution,” he said. “At least Miss Jade can put this to use for her students’ families…Trent?”

  “My Lord,” Mr. Trent, who had been standing by the window since entering the study, narrowed his eyes as he peered through the lace curtain toward the street outside. “Someone is following us.”

  Ashborne looked up alertly. “What?”

  “At least one man,” Mr. Trent said, his gaze never leaving the street. His tone was steady, controlled. “I noticed it two days ago. I assumed I was overthinking, but clearly it is no coincidence that he had appeared on the same streets we frequent, each time trailing behind us.”

  Ashborne pressed his lips together and stepped closer to the window. He followed Mr. Trent’s line of sight.

  The man was poorly dressed, with an unkempt beard and the unmistakable air of a habitual smoker. He leaned against a lamppost, appearing idle, as though waiting for someone. Yet his gaze drifted again and again toward the laboratory entrance.

  This man had another purpose.

  And Ashborne recognised him.

  He detested the smell of pipes and cigarettes; it made him particularly sensitive to it. That scent - sharp, stale smoke - had clung to this man when he had bumped into Ashborne several days earlier. Earlier than the two days Mr. Trent had just mentioned.

  “He’s not alone?” Ashborne asked quietly.

  A chill crawled up his spine. He wasn’t certain what frightened him most, only that it felt as though something unseen was watching him closely, cataloguing his every movement. He clenched his fist, steadying the faint tremor in his fingers.

  “I’ve seen him with another man,” Mr. Trent replied, “Though I can’t be sure of their relationship.”

  “What could they want?” Dr. Blackwood swallowed. “That hardly sounds like respectable conduct.”

  “I don’t know,” Mr. Trent said, eyes sharp as he assessed the man outside. “But it’s nothing good for my lord. He looks like the sort who prefers fist over words. My lord, we cannot allow them to approach you.”

  Ashborne frowned. “I can’t remain here indefinitely.”

  “There’s a back entrance,” Dr. Blackwood blurted out.

  The others turned toward him.

  After a brief moment of thought, he straightened and hurried out of the study. “I’ll check whether anyone’s stationed there.”

  The nobleman and his secretary turned their attention back to the man lingering by the front entrance.

  “I believe his intelligence is sufficient for him to realise something is amiss,” Ashborne murmured, “if I fail to leave the laboratory for several days.”

  Mr. Trent studied his employer. “You mean…?”

  “He needs to see Lord Ashborne exit this building and return to his townhouse,” Ashborne said, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice. “Perhaps he is fixated solely on me, and would not care if there were servants accompanying his target.”

  Trent nodded slowly. “A very astute decision, my lord.”

  And so, a man dressed as a secretary departed through the back entrance, while a man dressed as a nobleman left through the front and returned openly to his townhouse. The suspicious figure leaning against the lamppost followed the noble-dressed man without hesitation.

  Later, the man who appeared to be a secretary at first glance met with a ragged school teacher, and together they departed for the domus in Wyrnfield…

  – “Wait. Hold on a sec,” Jade raised her hands. The flood of intense information had overwhelmed her ability to maintain her polite, attempting-to-be-a-local facade; she subconsciously dropped the formal act and switched back to her most natural tone. “Why were you even at the lab in the first place? And why d’you sound so terrified?”

  Ashborne looked genuinely taken aback. “Have you not noticed that I have been visiting my laboratory since the beginning of the summer?”

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  Jade tilted her head. “No? Why would I? I’ve been busy adjusting my students’ syllabus. That stuff eats brainpower. I don’t even have the energy to keep track of anything else. My biscuit recipe was even delayed - if it hadn’t been for that syllabus, I could have finished it in two weeks!”

  Realising she had veered off into a tangent - as she often did when her thoughts started to scatter - Jade quickly reeled herself back in. “Actually, scratch that. Point is: I don’t know anything that goes on outside of the domus.”

  Ashborne’s eyes widened, “Then… you are unaware of the news?”

  “What news?” Jade blinked. “I don’t read newspapers. I don’t have the spare coins, obviously. I only read old ones laying around in the domus. And honestly, I mostly read the serial stories.” She paused. “So. Something big happened?”

  Ashborne fell silent for a moment, then sighed. “In short, I submitted reports on animal testing to several scientific journals. My conclusions were strongly opposed. The interviews published afterward were… uniformly critical.”

  “Wait. What?” Jade straightened sharply. “Animal testing? On what? Cosmetic products? And you actually published it?!”

  Ashborne recoiled slightly at her reaction. “Um…Yes?”

  Jade buried her face in her palm and stayed that way for several long seconds. When she finally looked up, her expression was deadpanned.

  “Sir!” She said in a monotone voice. “Please. Start from the beginning. The animal testing. All of it.”

  Ashborne exchanged a glance with Father Rochester, swallowed, and nodded–

  He had begun visiting the laboratory he sponsored at the start of summer, prompted by Jade’s suggestion to conduct animal testing.

  The project began with perfumery goods - “cosmetics” being a term not yet in use in this world - available on the market. It later expanded to include everyday products, such as paints and treated fabric.

  As the scope of the project widened, the laboratory’s procedures and equipment were repeatedly overhauled based on Jade’s off hand remarks, all of which had been meticulously recorded in Mr. Trent’s notebook. Dr. Silas Blackwood, the laboratory director, was visibly invigorated by the changes. He praised the environment with enthusiasm, declaring that this was what a proper scientific laboratory should be: precise, clean, and detailed - not the crude conditions under which he himself had trained.

  However, while the laboratory flourished, the results did not.

  Batch after batch of reports returned with grim consistency. None brought good news. Each confirmed Jade’s warnings.

  They were poisonous.

  The only difference lay in dosage - some effects manifested quickly, others took weeks.

  The Ashborne Laboratory, named plainly after its sponsor, had allocated several rooms solely to house cages of rats and rabbits. Ashborne had witnessed the effects firsthand.

  What he saw horrified him.

  So much so that he rushed immediately to his sister and forbade her, without compromise, from using any such products again.

  Ashborne had only witnessed a handful of carcasses, but Dr. Blackwood - who had led the experiments - had been far more shaken than his sponsor when he delivered the report.

  “The green and purple pigments were poisonous, and so were the medicines consumed by the sick people,” Dr. Blackwood said, rubbing his face wearily. “My lord, I’m beginning to suspect every single item around me now. I can’t help but wonder if everything is toxic - and if so, how long I’d last just from daily contact.”

  Ashborne had no idea that the images of tumor dissections had been haunting Dr. Blackwood ever since they confirmed the growth in the rats were caused by invisible toxins in everyday materials. Still, what Ashborne had seen - the data, graphs, and photographs laid out in the report - was enough for him to grasp the severity of the situation.

  He asked, calmly. “Is there any way to warn the public about these dangers?”

  Dr. Blackwood considered this for a moment. “I believe publishing our findings in a scientific journal would be the best course. It is more reliable than newspapers, which are prone to distorting facts or taking sides. From there, other scientists may replicate our experiments, confirm the results, and allow the truth to spread in the most rational way possible.”

  Ashborne fell silent.

  He would never have suggested Miss Jade expose herself by publishing these findings - if she had been the one to come forward. But now the responsibility lay with him. At worst, he was still a nobleman, the son of an earl. Few would dare openly offend someone with such a title… right?

  At last, he nodded. “Very well. Proceed as you suggest. Let us hope people will abandon these dangerous products once the papers are published.”

  “My lord,” Dr. Blackwood said, gesturing to the report, “though I have not met Miss Jade in person, her insights were instrumental in guiding our conclusions. I believe it would be appropriate to acknowledge her contribution in the publications.”

  Ashborne agreed. “Yes, indeed. I shall ask her. I'm heading to the domus today, and I expect I’ll see her regarding her iron oven project.”

  –Jade let out an “oh” after hearing this part of the story. “So that’s why you asked for my opinion on journal publishing back then.”

  “It’s a pity you declined,” Ashborne said, watching her reaction. She seemed remarkably unconcerned. “Not everyone has the opportunity to be credited in such an authoritative publication.”

  “But I didn’t do anything with the lab experiments or whatever,” Jade shrugged. “They would’ve figured it out sooner or later without me.”

  “That’s not quite the same–”

  “Anyway,” Jade waved him off, dismissing the point entirely. “What happened next? The journal published it, right? And then?”

  “Then…” Ashborne sighed and continued–

  Things did not unfold as he and Dr. Blackwood had hoped. Yes - more than one scientific journal published their findings, and a handful of scholars even wrote to the newspapers in support. However, the number of scientists who opposed their conclusions vastly outnumbered those who supported them.

  Newspapers ran stories about prominent figures - Ah, Jade thought, the web influencers - publicly condemning Ashborne for attempting to undermine the perfumeries and other advanced consumer goods. They mocked him as “an immature young man seeking attention” and accused him of “not understanding how science truly works”.

  Criticism poured in relentlessly. Commentators and reporters, men and women alike, assailed him from every direction. Whenever Ashborne opened a newspaper, he found nothing but condemnation. It felt as though no one believed him. Some even increased their use of the very products he had warned against, flaunting it as proof that they were perfectly safe.

  The tabloids were the worst. They fabricated lurid stories about Ashborne’s supposed affairs with famous courtesans, opera singers, ballerinas, and other women, portraying him as a morally bankrupt man with questionable habits. Social interaction became increasingly difficult; wherever he went, people who recognized him whispered and cast sidelong glances.

  Deeply troubled by the rumours and attacks, Ashborne began visiting the laboratory almost daily. He searched desperately for a way to respond - and, more importantly, to reassure himself that he had not been mistaken. The evidence remained unchanged: rats treated with the creams and tonics suffered corroded skin, most died within days, and the survivors displayed erratic behaviour - clear signs of nervous system damage.

  And after that, everything else happened as we already know. Mr. Trent noticed the stalker, and Ashborne escaped with Jade’s help…

  – Jade stared at him. “After all that, you still don’t get what someone might be after you?”

  Ashborne blinked, his round and innocent eyes wide with genuine confusion. “I… don’t see the connection?”

  Jade sighed and facepalmed - again.

  He'd die in episode one of a historical c-palace drama, she thought flatly. No question about it.

  I know in earlier ages of the Victorian Era, scientists were called men of science (and some even call doctor, a medical man), and the term scientist comes in around mid to end of the era. But for the ease of writing, I’ll just keep it as scientists.

  Also, I’m not sure how serious the result would be if the Victorian people did animal testing because I didn’t do bio back in my school days. Just assume the cosmetic products in my story are way more poisonous than the actual Victorian history.

  Another thing is, if there’s any PETA people here, I’m very agree in protecting animal rights, and you may dislike Jade for making use of the wandering rats in the dirty streets of a Victorian-ish Era - she did not know lab rats were specifically bred solely for experiment purposes.