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Babara was powerless to do anything about it. After all, she was still just an ordinary secretary. In cases and situations like this, her authority and input was less than meaningless. As a secretary, there were many things that were expected of her to handle. In most cases, officials who had a professional relationship with her often dumped a lot of workload on her. She didn\'t dare refuse them. She couldn\'t afford to half-ass it either. Her work ethic always prevailed.

While her responsibilities sat within the scope of a secretary, Babara\'s ability extended well beyond her job title. Quaid once commented on her, saying that if she had been fortunate enough to come from royalty, she would have probably been the next king. Such a high handed comment from the governor was no joke. Those who didn\'t know her were forced to acknowledge her. Babara\'s reputation spoke volumes for her.

But unfortunately for her, \'if\' just didn\'t cut it. In this world that word was as good as useless. She wasn\'t a royal. She could never be. Not even if she somehow managed to touch the sun itself. Her work ethic was worthy of applaud. But that was it. It simply wasn\'t enough to make her one of them. It seemed that that was the peak of her power and influence. Her world was dominated by men. She had come to accept that as a fact, but just like her humble background, she didn\'t let that hamper her progress.

Somehow, she had risen above the limitation and became a full-fledged official in the city\'s government. In doing so, she had blazed a trail for others. Babara had made herself into a living example for others. Looking at her struggle and resilience, she silently told the world that anyone could be anything they wanted. So long as they believed in the dream and worked hard for whatever it was that they wanted.

Surprisingly, due to a certain discovery, Babara had an unprecedented change of heart. It wasn\'t like she had planned for it to happen. But fate proved to be fate, and brought things into play that were outside the sphere of her influence. As an unwilling actor in a stage play, she was forced to take her place and tow the path that life had forged for her. There was no script or manual for this. Babara just had to play along, not knowing when or where the director would say cut, and end it all.

Babara\'s new path started when she stumbled upon a very peculiar handkerchief. Babara stared in unbelief at the handkerchief. For some reason, it awakened something deep in her. Something that had been buried for a long time. Still unsure, she edged her way closer to the person on whom the handkerchief was. As she stepped closer to investigate, she felt her heartbeat rising, and suddenly she began to feel like she was being choked by her own nervousness.

"Impossible!" She kept repeating it over and over again, as if trying to kill any hope that might spring forth from this discovery. "It can\'t be! Could that really be my sister\'s handkerchief?!"

The handkerchief itself wasn\'t the issue at hand, it was the embroidery on it. The very sight of it provoked a spring of memories that came with so much emotion, that Babara began to feel a bit woozy in the head. The reason Babara was so drawn to that particular handkerchief was simple, but not exactly easy. The embroidery on the handkerchief was one of a kind. Only Babara\'s sister had ever used that type before.

This was particularly shocking for Babara because her sister, her only sister had disappeared a long time ago. Babara had only been thirteen at the time. Her sister had left without a trace. There had been no body. There had been no report. There hadn\'t even been as much of a single rumor. It was almost as if she had dropped off the surface of the earth. She had simply vanished. Seeing that embroidery made Babara remember how scared, alone and distraught she had been when her only surviving relative abandoned her.

She thought she had dealt with it. But the very sight of the handkerchief brought back a flood of memories. Memories she had kept buried for a long time. She broke free from the catatonic shock that had temporarily rendered her static, and she moved towards the entity wielding the handkerchief, determined to investigate. At least, for the sake of closure. She had to find her sister. It was the least she could do after all this time.

Babara actually had good reason to be doubtful. The circumstances surrounding the discovery was palpable, for the handkerchief was in the hands of a prostitute. That\'s right, Babara was currently in the biggest and most popular brothel in town, the den of iniquities, the abode of wanton pleasures- the famous Spring! Babara\'s work entailed a lot of information gathering. So, sometimes it carried her to odd places. Spring was one of those places.

There was a reason why Spring was the biggest brothel in Victoria City, it was because a lot of government officials had their talons sunk deep into it. There were a lot of shady government backgrounds behind Spring. It was common knowledge, but since there were pretty influential people involved, it was always swept under the rug whenever the case was brought up.

In the past, Babara might have recruited some of her assets to assist her with some of her endeavors. This was her usual move and in the past, it had proven to be a tactical advantage for her. But this time was different. This time, Babara knew she had to act on her own. She didn\'t dare ask for help from the others. Heaven knew what kind of bombshells would be unearthed in the process of investigating. With these government officials, shocking secrets were always a guarantee. Babara knew that going solo was her best bet. She had to act alone.

Babara\'s skillset was well suited for this task. Anyone who dared to launch such an investigation would not be able to uncover any real thing. Even if they did, it wouldn\'t be anything tangible. But not Babara. She was like a dog with a bone when it came to things like this. Her resilience, no-can-do attitude, and thoroughness, made her a real asset in the field. She was also a woman, which in this case was an advantage to her because she would be easily overlooked.

Babara loved to make plans. She loved to itemize things in the right order, and systematically take them apart bit by bit until she had gotten the best results. Confronted with a sudden new case that was close to home, Babara did what she did best and mentally began to lay up a plan for this. She had to start from the ground like a pyramid, and steadily work her way to the top. In this case, she had to start with the first real set that was her best bet- the prostitutes.

On second thought, Babara decided not to relegate her investigation to the prostitutes only, there were other female staff that could be possible leads. The plan was fine and all, but at the end of the day, it all came down to execution. Babara did not disappoint in that regard. She considered the logistics of her present situation and decided to take advantage of the full house. She scanned the lounge of the brothel and saw that it was a full house that night. This meant that the entire staff would be working. Consequently, the dormitories would be free!

Wasting no further time, she immediately dived in the direction of the direction of the dormitories. Within twenty minutes, Babara had combed through almost five dorm rooms. She expertly went through the personal stuff of the predominantly female staff of the establishment. She left no stone unturned. With the tenacity of a private investigator and the instincts of a hellhound, she went through everything, not sparing even the garbage that was thrown away in the bins.

Babara\'s logic was simple; she figured that the best way to gain intelligence on the activities and data of the staff, she had to get up close and personal. She couldn\'t rely on hearsay or on the word of the management. There was always bound to be some kind of cover up. She had to get involved.

As she worked her way through the dormitories, she did her best to stay out of sight. Getting caught would be a really rookie mistake on her end. She stayed fluid and vigilant as she breezed in and out of different rooms, analyzing and re-analyzing. If Xzavier had seen her in action, there was no doubt that he would have been very surprised. Such elaborate investigative techniques weren\'t exactly common in modern times, talk less of this era. It was truly commendable.

After about half an hour of snooping around, Babara slithered out of the brothel like a serpent and made her way to a less rowdy location where she could think. She wasn\'t an adrenaline junkie, she didn\'t even allow herself to get excited when she was in the field like this. She kept a cool head, and after repeatedly checking to make sure that she wasn\'t being followed, she gently made her way to a serene part of town to collate her findings and mentally sort them out.

Her effort hadn\'t been for naught. In fact. It was the exact opposite. After intelligently connecting several dots, she intelligently deduced the fact that the source of the handkerchief was not from Spring as she had initially thought, it was actually from a noble\'s castle on the upper east end of the city.

Babara gasped as it all came together like a puzzle. A single name stood out- Princy Castle!