Lea stayed shut in her room, letting out a long sigh.
One man kept circling through her thoughts—Louis Berg. That wolfish face of his, grinning as he held out a handful of Teria flowers.
“Why did he have to ask for Teria flowers!”
Lea buried her face in her pillow and thumped the bed.
Why, of all things, Teria flowers?
The language of Teria was courtship and eternal promise. Asking her to find them… wasn’t that just a roundabout way of saying I love you?
Lea hugged the pillow tightly, her face flushed red.
Just then, her attendants knocked and entered the room.
“We’re here to assist you with your bath.”
“Ah, it’s fine! I’ll do it myself!”
“Then we’ll heat the water so it’s ready whenever you like.”
As Lea frantically waved her hands, the attendants gave polite bows and stepped out.
“…Hah.”
She sighed again and gathered her clothes, figuring that she needed a bath to help settle her heart.
If only I lived a normal life, I wouldn’t have to worry about any of this.
If she were just an ordinary woman, love wouldn’t come with political burdens or threats to her family’s survival. She wouldn’t have to second-guess every feeling.
But she didn’t have that luxury.
If Louis turned out to be a spy sent by the Artezia Duchy, these feelings of hers would turn to poison.
I need to know for sure.
Swallowing her doubts, Lea headed for the bathroom—praying with all her heart that he wasn’t a spy.
* * *
“Ugh! Do we really have to go in there?”
“We must indeed.” I nodded at Lancelot’s grumbling.
We were standing in front of the North’s largest tavern: Al Fortia de Glori.
It looked like a high-class inn from the outside, but the interior was even more extravagant. The kind of place that made even Lancelot, who had been complaining until a moment ago, stop and gape.
“…There was a place like this in the North?” he exclaimed.
“This is where high-ranking nobles and major merchants gather.” I tossed the words over my shoulder as I headed up to the second floor.
The marble stairs were polished and solid, not a creak in them—unlike your usual tavern fare.
“Welcome. Entry to the second floor requires a letter of introduction. Do you have one?” A man, appearing to be the proprietor of the establishment, blocked our path with a polite smile.
Beside me, Lancelot whispered, “He says you need an introduction?”
“I can hear, you know.”
“Wait, were you actually introduced?”
“Who would I know in the North to get an introduction?”
“Then what are you going to do?” he muttered, in the voice of an ant. For all his bear-like looks, the man sure could worry.
“I’ll handle it so just stand still. You’re distracting me to death.”
I stepped forward and murmured low enough for only the proprietor to hear. “The glory of Al covers the sky.”
“…!” His eyes widened for a second before he composed himself. “…Where are you from?”
“The Center. I’m from Headquarters.”
“I wasn’t aware that you were a Scribe, Sir Louis.”
“Perhaps you’re just too low in rank? From the looks of it, you’re a Third-Class Scribe. Surely you don’t expect information of my level to reach someone of your station?” I gave him a faint smile.
He bit his lip and bowed. “…My apologies.”
“No need to apologize. If you really doubt me, you can always contact His Grace. If you send a runner now… I’d say you would get a reply by tomorrow.”
Tap, tap. I brushed imaginary dust from his shoulder as I spoke.
There was no way this fellow would dare contact the Duke of Artezia directly. A Third-Class Scribe trying something like that would make history in all the wrong ways.
“Was coming to the North also an order from the House?”
“Hm… you’re awfully curious. But I wasn’t sent here to satisfy your questions.”
“…My apologies.”
Maybe that was just a formality to confirm my status, because this time he didn’t protest. Just bowed again.
This organization really doesn’t trust anyone.
“That’s enough—take me inside. I have questions, and I’m on a tight schedule.”
“Right this way.” The proprietor led me to a hidden room deep within the second floor.
Lancelot kept glancing my way as we walked. He asked, “What did you do?”
“Just spoke well.”
“Really? What kind of talk gets someone treated like royalty all of a sudden?!”
“A guest is always king. Congratulations. Imagine a backwoods knight rising to royalty. You’ve certainly climbed the ranks.”
“What kind of dog-talk is that?” he yelped.
Hm… and I thought that was pretty witty.
A little disheartened that my joke fell flat, I pointed toward the center of the second-floor lounge.
“Wait there for a minute. I need to speak with the owner,” I said.
“What, didn’t you say we were drinking? Now you’re leaving me alone?”
“Nobles are busy people. Knights like you wouldn’t understand, but high nobles always make the rounds and greet people at places like this.”
“Man, life is just too sad to live not being born a noble.”
“And yet you’re still alive after saying that. I’d say life’s been pretty kind to you.”
I smirked and turned to the proprietor. “Set up the most expensive menu at that table.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll have the staff attend to you.”
“Just bring the drinks. No women, no boys. This is no brothel, after all.”
“Of course.” The proprietor bowed and gave the order, while I led Lancelot to the central table.
Before long…
“This way, please.”
He led me into a hidden chamber lined with all kinds of shielding mechanisms.
The entrance was guarded by staff—Scribes, every one of them.
“This branch is well managed,” I remarked.
“We still have a long way to go to match the Center.”
“I did wonder why a Third-Class Scribe was running things. You must have a knack for business.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank me? I was implying that you’re not the branch chief.”
The proprietor flinched and stiffened at my words. “…What do you mean?”
“The branch chief is inside, is she? If I recall, the Northern branch chief was Lexa.”
“…So you truly are from the Center.”
“Indeed. So please do let me in—and have the assassins hiding in the ceiling stand down.”
As I glanced up, the proprietor clicked his fingers, and the hidden guards withdrew.
“My sincerest apologies for the repeated offenses. Please go in.” He bowed and opened the door.
Inside sat a woman behind a desk, a roll of tobacco between her lips. Smoke filled the room with a dizzying scent.
She scratched her head, irritated. “Lexa, Northern Branch. Second-Class Scribe.”
“Well met. I am Louis Berg, First-Class.”
I took the seat across from her and began, “There’s only one reason I’ve come, despite my busy schedule.”
“And that is?”
“I need information.”
“Excuse me?”
I took a tobacco roll from my pocket. “Got a light?”
“I do, but it’s a match. Will that work?”
“Good enough.”
Hiss. I took a drag and exhaled.
Then I continued, “Like I said, I’m here for information.”
“What kind of information? I mean, if that’s all, why not just send a formal request? I have no idea why you would take the trouble of coming yourself.”
“To threaten you, of course.” I glanced indifferently at the tobacco in her hand. “How’s business? Drugs sell well. You must be turning quite the profit.”
“…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Lapias Root. Marten Powder. Both banned by the Imperial House.”
These drugs were addictive enough to ruin lives—and anyone caught selling them faced the death penalty. Not just that, but execution extended to three generations of their entire family.
Yet Lexa dealt in them without a second thought.
This had caused an uproar even in my past life.
Even if the Duke of Artezia wanted to destroy the North, he wouldn’t dare defy the Emperor’s directly. Not yet.
Committing the Emperor’s most hated crime?
That could bring the head of Artezia himself marching up here to personally execute everyone involved.
“And now you’re pocketing all the profits. There’s quite a bit of chatter about you in the House.”
“…Did they send you to deal with me?” Lexa’s face twisted fiercely.
If I said yes, all the Scribes here would try to kill me.
Well, I wasn’t weak enough to lose, but I didn’t feel like fighting.
I said, “To be honest, I have no interest in dealing with you. In fact, I intend to support your operations.”
“…Then why are you here?”
“I told you. I need information.”
I ground out my tobacco in the ashtray. “My current mission has hit a wall. I’d like a bit of assistance from your side.”
“…”
“If you help me, I’ll help bolster your sales even further—with a few restrictions. And even if you get caught, I can make sure you avoid the death penalty.”
“How? Can you really protect someone who disobeyed the Emperor?”
“You’re speaking to the rightful heir of House Berg. I can protect one or two criminals anytime I please.”
Lexa looked tempted as she lowered her guard. “What do you need?”
“The Praha Council of Elders. I want everything on them—secrets, weaknesses, current movements, schemes. I want regular reports.”
“…Is this an official House order?”
“Haha, you seem to be mistaken about something.” I summoned my Aura effortlessly, letting it fill the room.
Slowly, I squeezed the very atmosphere around me with Crushing Presence.
RUMBLE!
The weight of my Aura pressed down.
“You don’t get to ask questions. You simply obey, or you die—those are the options you have. So, what do you choose?”
“…I will obey.” Lexa’s eyes reddened as she clenched her jaw.
I withdrew my Aura with a thin smile. “Good. Report to me personally, every night.”
“…Coming to the manor daily would look suspicious.”
“Ah, you needn’t worry about that. I’ll be taking one of your workers here. You will relay your reports through that one.”
“…Understood.”
I rose from my seat, satisfied—then paused as if recalling something.
“Oh, and sell your drugs if you must, but not to commoners. I’ll give you a list of approved clients. Those people alone will more than boost your current profits.”
“…I’ll do that.” Lexa nodded reluctantly.
The list would consist solely of Artezia’s loyalists and spies. Once addicted, they would rot the Duchy from the inside and become an excuse for future attacks disguised as justice.
That’s too good a chance to waste.
Smiling at the thought of what was to come, I stepped out of the room.
All that remained now was to fetch the future Thief Master—Kai.