YWPWYLFDM 18

Chapter 18

Is this the end? What excuse could she possibly make? In an instant, tens of thousands of thoughts flashed through her mind.

But contrary to her fears, Byron walked right past the desk where she was hiding and continued toward the window.

“Maybe it’s because autumn is near, but the nights are a bit chilly,” he muttered to himself as he shut the window. It seemed he had gotten up simply to close it against the cool air.

Having done so, Byron slowly walked back to his bed.

It was only a brief moment, but to Aila it felt like an eternity.

…I nearly lost ten years of my life just now.

Every time her risky nighttime excursions almost got discovered, she felt as if her lifespan was being cut short. She pressed a hand to her pounding chest, trying to calm her racing heart.

Leaving right now would be too dangerous… I’ll just have to wait until Byron falls asleep again.

She wasn’t out of danger yet. Byron was still awake, while she remained trembling under his desk.

Still, she felt she had passed the worst of it. She held her breath, exhaling quietly through her nose instead of sighing aloud, lest he notice her presence.

Unable to keep crouching like this until he slept, she shifted her position. Otherwise, her legs would go numb and she’d never make it back to her room.

As she settled more comfortably on the floor, her left hand brushed against something thin—like a sheet of paper.

What’s this?

She carefully lifted it without making a rustling sound. The page was filled with dates and place names written in neat rows.

These names… I’ve seen them somewhere before.

The first line bore a date about ten days from now. And the place names listed beneath it—every single one of them was familiar.

It didn’t take her long to remember where she’d seen them. Her face fell. They were the very same cities and dates she’d noticed earlier on the map.

So it’s nothing new after all…

Disappointed, she was about to put the paper back when something caught her eye. Unlike the map, this paper had additional words written beside the cities—names she recognized as belonging to inns and taverns.

“Wild Goose Tavern, Vineyard Inn…”

Establishments. Lodgings. And seeing them sparked an old memory.

The memory of the very first place Byron had taken her after leaving the ruins.

Back then, though she had cried endlessly over parting with the attic she loved, she had quickly been made happy again.

…That’s right. I remember now.

Byron, who usually only dragged her through lonely forests and mountains, had once—just once—taken her into the cities.

And in just ten days, they would be heading to that very first city again.

So perhaps this was what people meant by “a blessing in disguise.”
A moment ago she had feared her mistake would ruin everything, but instead it had helped her recall something important.

Back then, she had thought moving from city to city every few days was simply fun. But thinking about it now, it seemed far too suspicious.

Why would a man in hiding—one who avoided even tiny rural villages—travel openly through bustling cities?

The clue lay in the map on the wall.

Whoever had set out from Venator, circling through the western empire before returning to Venator again—Byron was clearly shadowing their journey from the midpoint.

But who could it be?

Her parents, perhaps?

It wasn’t impossible, but unlikely. Ophelia and Roderick had little reason to travel west.

…There is one possibility, though.

The letter. The one that mentioned the “Young Lion”—the person Byron had said he was gathering strength to hunt.

Maybe it had nothing to do with that letter at all. Still, with the information she had, the most plausible guess was that Byron was following the “Young Lion.”

While she pondered this, time slipped by.

If she lingered too long, she might not make it back to her attic before Lora came to wake her, so she cautiously peeked over the desk.

Fortunately, Byron was fast asleep.

Silently, she opened the window. The old hinges gave a faint creak, but Byron didn’t stir.

Quickly, soundlessly, Aila slipped out of his room and escaped through the secret passage back to her own.

Back in her room, dawn soon began to lighten the sky. Though she had only closed her eyes for a short while, it was already time to rise for training.

But she didn’t feel tired.

Though still a child, her body was lean and muscular from years of training, giving her plenty of stamina.

Besides, last night she had made progress for the first time in a while.

It wasn’t certain information, but knowing she would have time to prepare before leaving for the city was a gift in itself.

Yes—before leaving these ruins, there was something she needed to prepare.

That night, she went to bed early, and rose again while it was still pitch dark. Though she had slept only a few hours, she felt refreshed and clear-headed.

There was no clock, but judging by the moon’s shape and position, dawn was still far off.

Stretching briefly, she changed clothes and slipped out of her room.

This time, her destination was not Byron’s chambers, but the room where she studied toxicology with Cloud.

The door was always locked, since the room contained all manner of poisonous substances. But the ventilation window was always open. And while an adult might struggle, it was just the right size for a child like Aila.

All right… time to make something.

She lit a lamp with the matches always kept nearby. It was normally used for boiling toxic herbs, but it provided just enough light for her.

She already knew exactly where every poisonous plant was stored from her daytime lessons.

Swiftly, she gathered small amounts of the herbs she needed. Before long, she had brewed a viscous, transparent liquid.

Pouring it into a glass vial no thicker than her pinky, she sealed it and smiled with satisfaction at her handiwork.

Really… they never should have given me access to a laboratory like this.

Grinning mischievously, she tucked the vial into her pocket and carefully erased all traces of her presence.

Something this small could easily be carried unnoticed.

Until now, she had never once defied Byron’s will. And yet, here she was, acting like a rebellious child playing pranks.

Perhaps it was a bit more than a prank, but so what? It wasn’t poison meant to kill—only a sleeping draught.

Of course, the person she intended for it would have deserved a deadlier dose. But it wasn’t time for that yet.

All right, I should head back now.

Checking once more to ensure she had left no traces, she extinguished the lamp and slipped out of the laboratory.

“Young miss, young miss! Please wake up.”

Lora’s shaking roused Aila from sleep.

“There’s so much to prepare—we must hurry!”

Sitting up with tousled hair, Aila rubbed her eyes and stared blankly at the flustered maid.

This happened several times a year. Why did Lora always make such a fuss over it?

“Hurry and dress. The carriage is waiting.”

“Yes, I know, Lora.”

At last, the day had come to leave the ruins.

The moment Lora bustled out, Aila—who had been rubbing her eyes sleepily—moved quickly, as though she had never been drowsy at all.

She needed to hide the vial of sleeping draught she had stashed beneath her pillow.

Where would be best…?

She examined the clothes Lora had laid out.

Her shoes were too small to conceal anything. Hiding it in her knee-high socks would only make a bulge.

The belt—it’ll work there.

A wide belt fastened with a large pink ribbon at the back. She could tuck the vial there unnoticed.

Later, she would have to find a safer place every time she changed clothes, but for now, it would do.

After securing the vial, she glanced around the attic.

It wasn’t a place full of fond memories, but it had been a small comfort to her in childhood. Parting from it again filled her with strange feelings.

“Goodbye. Thanks for looking after me.”

Talking to an attic of stone and wood felt silly, but still, she rapped twice on the hidden door of the secret passage, offering her farewell.

For some reason, it felt right to do so.

It was time to leave this place.