It was surprising, really, how easy it was. Now that she had the luxury of thinking time, she was amazed at how simple her escape had become. Good coin could grease a lot of palms, and make many a man turn a blind eye.

Kijani sat in the carriage cab, musing as she was gently jostled on her journey. More than once, she nearly went to the window, to look out and backward at what she was leaving behind her. But self-discipline won out, and she kept her body still and her face hidden. The sunlight flickered through the trees as the road took her further and further out of the city. Reaching into the hidden pocket within her bustle, she checked her golden pocket watch. It had been a little over an hour. Her father was off at work. Her mother, at some grand lunch party. Neither of them would return for several hours, and it would be another hour besides that before they actually noticed she was not at home. By that time it would be incredibly hard for them to pick up her trail. Her parents were smart, yes, but she knew she'd been smarter.

All of her reading had prepared her for her departure. The fantasy novels of the great detective Sherlock Holmes, solving crimes in a cold, machineless world, with nothing more than his wits and his senses. She knew what clues the police could find, so she made sure not to leave those clues. Her escape had been planned for months. She'd stored up her monthly allowance bit by bit, and brought bits and pieces of clothing. A skirt here, a pair of boots there. Nothing in large amounts, so there wouldn't be a signal that she was storing them away. The final part had been the hardest- her very nature made her leaving the house an occurrence by itself. She snuck out in the middle of the day, when the servants were busy with tasks, and she'd sent off her old aging made on some simple, yet time consuming errand. Then she'd simply walked out the front door, hailed a cab, and was gone.

She wound one of her thin, black dreadlocks around her finger, an idle habit for when she was deep in thought. Unfortunately, beyond her getting out of the house unseen, there had been no further planning. When she handed the driver her money, she'd told him to take her as far as her coin would last. That had been several minutes and miles ago. With a sigh, she realized she'd have to settle into the journey. Removing her black touring hat, she set it on the seat of the carriage and smoothed the tiny flyaway hairs that always came with wearing a hat. Her dreadlocks were tidily pinned back in an elegantly twisted bun. Idly she tugged on her white silk gloves, lacing and unlacing her fingers. She was dressed head to toe in the latest fashions. Her white blouse was crisp and spotless, her vest deep burgundy and neatly pinstriped. Her skirt was the finest black taffeta with a ruffled edge, and her heeled boots were shined to a glisten. She was the very image of a city woman. Calmly, she shut her eyes and relaxed herself. The next thing she heard, an hour later, was a voice.

“We're coming up to the limit of your coin, miss!” Called the driver. “We'll be stopping at the next town.”

“Ah, yes. What is the next town, please?”

“Little farming place called Arbordale, miss!”

That sounded nice and quiet. She put her hat back on, smoothed her skirt and readied herself. Once the carriage stopped, and the door was opened for her, she stepped out and tipped the driver, before stepping out and simply observing the town.

“Well. Now what?”