Chapter 60

* * *

Ramon was a capable official.

He hurried to rent a high-class inn with a view of the harbor.

He’d wanted to secure the whole building but even oblivious Ramon must have noticed my glare growing colder the longer he haggled with the owner.

So we agreed to take the entire top floor.

In any case the party was only myself, Count Conte, and the duke’s aide Sir Gareth who the duke insisted on sending because he worried about leaving the count alone—my glare took that as another insult.

Berry stayed behind at the residence to care for Nero who couldn’t travel for long.

“Ha, I thought I was going to die.”

I shrugged off my clothes like they were nothing and flopped face down on the bed.

If I’d stood one minute longer my overworked spine probably would have cracked for good.

‘Let’s pretend I only supervise the roadworks and take a vacation until those inquisitors leave.’

The sound of waves slapping the shore and gulls crying drifted softly.

It felt soothing and pleasant.

First I’d sleep properly, then I’d stroll the beach, browse the shops, and buy some snacks.

A pretty fountain pen, ink, and all the books I’d wanted to read would come home with me.

I’d never been to Bellamare in my previous life either. As a major trade hub with foreign merchants there should be plenty to see.

I felt like this would be a very leisurely holiday.

* * *

Right now I stood in the middle of a bleak ruin.

I’d told Ramon to take me to the market so something had clearly been lost in translation.

After some proper sleep I was more reasonable and asked.

“I said take me to the market so why are we in a field? Am I not making sense, huh?”

“Th-this is the largest market in Bellamare, madam…”

Had I still been half asleep?

I scratched my chin at Ramon’s answer and looked ahead again.

Empty stalls and booths, not a soul on the road, not a sign of life anywhere, the air sulky and dead.

The Bellamare officials following us shuffled and offered lame excuses once they saw my face.

“I-it’s winter right now. When the weather warms up the place will be completely different, yes yes.”

“It looks like nothing changed for a season. This isn’t just seasonal.”

“A landslide, yes. The roads were blocked by a landslide. Looks like the effects last long.”

“Looks like? This is your jurisdiction. You didn’t even check properly…!”

I stopped myself from retorting.

My reason for coming to Bellamare was a holiday after all.

Of course I had the pretense of supervising road repairs, but I had no intention of being eaten alive by work here.

‘Ugh, nearly slipped back into that cursed habit.’

Don’t meddle in other people’s business. Stop thinking that.

I forced down the nagging annoyance and looked around.

I felt peckish and there happened to be a food stall.

The merchant greeted me with a grin.

“Tomorrow the sun will rise in the west. A noble lady has come to Bellamare?”

“Is there rank in trade?”

“Mostly the harbor handles ore and food. Noble ladies usually head to southern Florence. Are you sure you didn’t take a wrong turn?”

“Thanks for the flattery but even a commoner like me can look noble with the right things.”

When I made a little circle with my thumb and forefinger while I said “the right things” the merchant’s attitude changed as if some timeless gesture had spoken volumes, and the word commoner helped seal the performance.

“Looks like you did well for yourself. I was dazzled by your beauty, ha ha.”

“I hear that a lot.”

Hiding my identity had been a good move.

I didn’t want excessive ceremony. If the duchess got into trouble while in the city it could dent the Lombard family’s reputation.

So I disguised myself as a commoner merchant and assigned my attendants to pose as guild staff.

“Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“Leave it to me.”

I scanned the stall menu.

On the far left smoked herring skewers, next thick-cut cod skewers, then oily glossy salmon skewers, then sardine skewers.

All fish.

“No meat or anything else?”

“Oh madam, the whole area is full of fish. What else would you expect?”

“I’ve seen more variety at other trading ports.”

“You must be from away then. Up north food is scarce. Even if supplies arrive they’re hard to store and most people can’t afford to buy them.”

That was awkward.

I grew up inland in the mountains and rarely ate fish.

After becoming an official I’d seen fish at banquets but the smell always put me off.

‘Well, my body’s new this time so maybe it’ll be fine.’

I idly bit into the sardine skewer the owner recommended.

And promptly turned the market floor into a morning disaster.

* * *

My attendants panicked.

They keeled over one after another, retching as soon as I bit the sardine.

At first they suspected poisoning and were ready to grab the stall owner.

But while I was introducing the morning menu and they were desperately restraining themselves, Sir Gareth, the duke’s aide, tasted the skewer himself.

“Ugh, that’s disgustingly fishy.”

His verdict ended the suspicion.

It left a bitter wound in the stall owner’s pride and a generous consolation payment.

* * *

Sir Gareth’s messenger hawk landed periodically with updates.

Edwin loosened the leather strap on his ankle and tossed meat to the bird.

“Master is something wrong?”

Bertold the steward noticed his lord’s grim expression.

Edwin’s gaze stayed pinned to the letter as if nailed there.

“It says the duchess fainted.”

“What?! Why would the lady suddenly—”

He set the letter on the desk instead of replying.

The local physician’s note said she’d been exhausted from the harsh journey and collapsed after eating bad food, and it included the list of herbs prescribed for Elicia.

“Call her doctor. I want confirmation that these prescriptions are safe for the duchess.”

“Yes, master.”

Bertold moved with the calm speed of the steward of a great house.

Gilbert, Elicia’s physician, arrived soon after.

He looked worn from treating the inquisitors.

“The lady fainted?”

“I want you to check this prescription.”

“Damn, I should’ve gone west. Those inquisitors got in the way…”

He muttered but his eyes quickly scanned the symptoms and the prescription on the letter.

The duke asked.

“Could it be poisoning?”

“You can rest easy on that. If the food had a toxin strong enough to make someone collapse instantly Sir Gareth wouldn’t have survived a taste.”

“That’s fortunate.”

“The prescription won’t harm the lady. It’s common tonic herbs to restore strength. But adding a few things would help.”

“I’ll note that and have it sent.”

Gilbert dipped his quill and wrote a revised prescription.

Using a lord’s things without permission was a major breach of etiquette but Gilbert, a commoner born physician, wasn’t sensitive to such fineries.

Edwin tended to be soft where his wife and those she favored were concerned.

Bertold was ready to scold Gilbert but held back.

“Would you still like to go to Bellamare now?”

“I’d love to, but my first duty is my lady’s orders. She told me to see the inquisitors through to the end. I can’t move on my own.”

The prescription was finished.

Edwin skimmed it and handed it to Bertold who quietly left to deliver it.

“So, how are the inquisitors?”

“…”

Even after the duke’s question Gilbert hesitated to answer.

He looked like he was struggling to phrase things.

“To be honest… it almost seems unreal. They’re recovering at an unbelievable speed.”