Chapter 63

Edwin snapped out of his reverie and turned his eyes back to the present.

The inquisitor’s gaze was sharp. It was the kind of look that meant he’d draw his sword depending on the answer.

“A greenhouse flower, through and through.”

“What?”

“Raised in a clean, beautiful holy city, you only see the good things. Touch the demonic energy that blows in from the northern wall and you can’t stand it. Truly the favored of the gods.”

“What do you know?”

Vincent’s eyes twitched.

Whenever he faced Edwin, Elicia had always been there too.

Before his wife the duke was extremely polite, at times lazy and lacking in drive, and his mindset had that sly, typical great noble flavor.

But now how did he look.

Sharp barbs lined his tongue. His mockery was blunt and his eyes shone like a beast that had tasted blood.

Like a sinner hauled straight from an endless pit.

‘What would I know. Would you like me to say they’re just big babies who do whatever they please because they don’t know when they’ll die?’ Vincent went on.

‘Watch your words.’

‘If I were certain you’re a demon I’d have killed you already. The fact I haven’t means you must still be human after all.’

‘…’

Vincent ground his teeth at the strike to his core.

If the duke had been certain these were heretics he would have judged them without a second thought, even if it meant war, but unfortunately he wasn’t.

Could an ordinary human clash with sanctity without a scratch and still overwhelm inquisitors? No matter how he thought about it, it made no sense.

Just then hurried footsteps sounded in the hall.

There was something odd in the way they limped.

‘What is it.’

“Master, an urgent dispatch from Bellamare.”

When Bertold returned Edwin’s expression, which had been blank, sharpened like ice the moment the seal was broken.

“When did this arrive?”

“Just now.”

The report said the duchess and Gareth had disappeared overnight.

According to the innkeeper they left in plain clothes saying they’d go for a walk.

Counting the hawk’s flight time from the military post meant it had already been a day and a half since Elicia went missing.

There was no more time to be tied down by the inquisitors.

Edwin rose without hesitation.

“If His Grace sent them, play along for now.”

“…”

“But remember my mercy has limits.”

It was a clear warning.

The duke hurried out of the dining hall. Left alone, Vincent let out a soft chuckle as he stared down the corridor where a wind blew cold.

“Heh heh, this is getting interesting.”

* * *

“Who are you?”

“…Haha.”

At the moment Gareth and I found ourselves in a very awkward situation.

We’d gone for a walk by the night sea to clear our heads and accidentally found a group of petty thieves.

Not wanting to be dragged into trouble we tried to slip away, but of all the places they’d to run they burst into the alley where Gareth and I were hiding.

Then, for some reason, they grabbed us and started running like mad.

We ran and ran.

‘I swear I’m gonna burst a lung.’

Just as memories of my pretty cat and my companion gold coins flashed by like a slideshow we arrived at this place.

“Who the hell brought an outsider to the hideout?”

“Ah, that was probably me…”

It turned out not to be a cave but the thieves’ hideout.

As Gareth and I stepped aside and watched, the man who’d grabbed me got a tongue-lashing.

“Why would you bring an outsider here? Are you crazy?”

“Why single me out? Nobody else noticed anything strange while we were running!”

“I thought it might be some lover of someone’s. Your clothes are the same as what people wear around here…”

“Then why’s that southerner wearing our clothes?”

Watching a fight is the most entertaining thing on earth.

But once everyone’s eyes turned to me the fun drained away.

My mother was a southern Marcen princess so my looks were a bit different from the northerners.

Same continent, not a huge difference, but they’d noticed I wasn’t quite like them.

The hideout erupted into noise.

“Is she a spy?!”

“Would the governor use a southerner as a spy?”

“Could be. If it helps him screw us over he’d sell his soul to a demon.”

If the inquisitors heard that it would make for excellent gossip.

While everyone argued and shifted attention, I leaned toward Gareth and whispered.

“Sir, you’re really good with a sword, right?”

“Shall I kill them?”

“No, don’t go straight to killing…”

I grabbed Gareth to stop him from stepping forward.

His head seemed odd but his skill looked solid. At least I felt I wouldn’t die here.

Of course if I wanted to avoid a war with the crown he’d have to guard me to the death, but even leaving that aside—

‘These thieves are shockingly sloppy for having a hideout.’

Their weapons were rusty farm tools and the place felt lived in, like a shabby home rather than a proper military den.

Finally the thieves apparently reached a verdict and faced us.

“If the governor finds this place we’re finished.”

“Sorry, but you gotta die here.”

Not an ideal conclusion.

Gareth asked again.

“Shall I kill them?”

“Maybe just break a few bones.”

“I’ll try. I’m good at fighting big monsters so I haven’t practiced scaling back the force.”

“…hmm.”

I pictured their heads getting smashed like watermelons.

‘Next time I insist on changing my escort.’

Just as Gareth reached for his blade a child’s laugh came from deeper inside the hideout and the sound of many small feet ran fast toward us.

Not just one child but several.

“Big brother, big brother, I’m here!”

“Hey! Mother told you not to run in the house!”

“So sleepy… Dad hold me.”

Kids in a thieves’ den. What the hell.

Even the men who’d said they’d kill us lost their composure.

“Dad, I’m sleepy.”

“Cha, Charlie, now isn’t the time…”

“Waah!”

A child wrapped in a rag that might have been a blanket grabbed the sleeve of the man who’d dragged me here and been shouted at.

Women inside rushed out to corral the little ones like wild foals but it was hopeless.

The kids slipped free when caught and broke apart when gathered.

‘They’re hopeless like this.’

‘Should we help?’

The thieves, me, everyone sat there awkward and stunned when someone came in from outside.

“Who dares bring an outsider to our hideout? What’s your excuse?”

“W-we had reasons…”

It turned out there was some leader. Everyone’s demeanor shifted.

Even the kids calmed when they saw the man.

He must be the boss.

I looked up without thinking and our eyes met.

“Oh, the nouveau rich guildmaster?”

“Mr. Sardine…”

It was the grilled fish stall owner from the beach. He’d been proud of his cooking but not very good at it.

The man who’d been chewing away at Bellamare’s stock of stolen goods.