❰A hand clad in spotlessly white gloves tilts a teapot.
Trickle. Reddish-brown tea fills a teacup shaped like a blooming flower. No steam rises from it.
“I’ve heard your story.
But why are you telling me this?”
A face wearing a monocle appears, slightly cropped at both the top and bottom. A top hat of such dark navy that it is nearly black sits atop the head, and the hair beneath it is green.
“What if I report you?”
Past the speech bubble, the viewpoint changes. The figure has the appearance of a girl, but half of her face is cropped out of view. Because the light is behind her, her entire figure is cast in shadow as well.
“You’re not someone who would report me.”
Though the shadows have lowered the overall coloration by a shade, it is still possible to tell that her hair is somewhere in the red spectrum. Her skin is pale but freckled, and while everything above the line of her upper eyelashes has been cropped away, her gleaming green irises remain vividly visible.
“You would never do such a—”
“Well now.”
The man in the top hat grips the brim and pulls it down slightly. The eye behind the monocle and everything beneath the bridge of his nose are obscured by the brim, the hand holding it, his forearm, and the like. The only eye that remains visible is black.
“What exactly gives you the confidence to say that with such certainty?”
The next panel contains only the man’s mouth. His lips are curved in a gentle arc, yet when viewed together with the panel above, it is impossible to see it as a smile.
The viewpoint pulls back to show the man and the girl facing each other. They stand inside an antique, elegant room. Natural light streams in…