Episode 2
I flopped into my chair and leaned my head back.
Two desks, two chairs, and nothing but paperwork in this big office. Even before Ail was assigned here, Mien hadn’t done a damn thing, and several months’ worth of receipts had piled up. Thanks to my recent overtime marathons, only a month’s worth remained.
‘I hate that I’m proud of this…’
A deep sigh slipped from my lips.
My gaze drifted toward the wooden door that Ron had exited through. Speaking of which, Ron was a peculiar commander. This was clearly a world with a rigid class system, yet even when I talked back to him, he just yelled without taking real action against me. At first, I suspected all sorts of things.
Maybe being the Imperial Knight Commander wasn’t a big deal?
I asked Rose, my roommate in the palace quarters (she’s a maid—really helpful when I first became Ail thanks to all the information she shared, though it did make her suspicious), but that wasn’t the case.
Rose had said:
“The Marquis Ron is every woman’s dream. Do you know how hard everyone tries just to have one conversation with him? That red hair, that dark skin, those manly features, and that muscular body…”
(Everything after that was unnecessary and shall be omitted.)
She had clasped her hands together like a fangirl.
And she wasn’t wrong. Objectively speaking, Ron looked like someone who’d be popular with women. He seemed like a cool guy too—after all, even when a lowly admin like me talked back, he didn’t punish me.
But what good does any of that do me? A damn boss is still a damn boss. Coming from a society that values equality, the very idea of being punished just for talking back is laughable.
“Ail, the knights sent a message. They want the supply drawer in the training hall replaced.”
“Really? I’ll go check it out.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
Mien, who hadn’t shown her face all day, strolled in as if nothing had happened. She didn’t even notice my stare and just sat down, taking out her makeup pouch and patting her face.
I let out a dry, disbelieving laugh.
Changing out the supply drawer is your job too, you know?
It’s not something you can just dump on me like it’s natural.
If I brought this up, Mien would probably go wide-eyed and say, “Oh, I’m sorry! I’ll go check it out!”—because, despite being incompetent and clueless, she wasn’t a terrible person.
The real problem was that when Mien did go to the training hall, the knights would storm over to me and throw a fit about how she never does any real work.
I don’t want them to treat me like a lady or anything. I just want Mien to be treated like an equal employee. Being called “Lady” gives me the ick too.
But what can I do? To them, Mien was a noble lady, and I was just a commoner staff member.
I let out a heavy sigh and grabbed my coat.
“Someone kicked it. Damn bastard.”
The “supply drawer” in the training hall was really just a stash for snacks the knights hid for breaks. Even Commander Ron knew about it and let it slide—it was a little unspoken fun among the knights.
I knew because Mien would sometimes bring back treats the knights gave her.
Damn it. And not once did they give me any.
Anyway.
As I touched the drawer, it creaked loudly. The shoe-sized dent and its position made it clear: someone had kicked it. Some short-tempered knight must’ve lashed out and then requested a replacement, pretending it broke on its own.
I quickly pulled out the regulation book I’d brought with me.
“Let’s see… willful damage to palace property… Ah, here it is.”
Flipping through the pages, I found the clause I needed:
“If palace property is intentionally damaged, the responsible party must cover the cost personally. Palace budget shall not be used. In severe cases, the individual may be referred to the disciplinary committee.”
Of course, damage during training was understandable—but this was a storage room. No one does sword practice in a tiny storage room.
“So I have to find out who broke it and ran.”
Naturally, there were no CCTVs in this world. When I first arrived, I had naïvely hoped there might be magic, but apparently, magic disappeared a thousand years ago. Useless gods threw me into a world with zero perks.
Guess it was time for me to turn into Sherlock Holmes and solve the case.
Yeah, right.
I stepped outside. The knights were deep in training. Some glanced my way but didn’t pay much attention.
I found a spot on a secluded stairway and observed the knights. After a month of showing up daily, I could at least recognize their names and faces.
‘Let’s exclude the rookies. No way a newbie would kick something in a place this strict. Whoever did this probably has some status—high enough to try slipping it through as an expense…’
My eyes scanned the field.
Then they stopped.
There he was—a knight with short blond hair.
As soon as I had my target, I stood and walked toward him. He didn’t even look at me until I was close enough to speak.
“What is it, Ail?”
“Sir Reinolf. May I have a moment?”
“I’m in the middle of training.”
His tone was thick with annoyance, and a vein twitched in my forehead.
What, you think I didn’t notice that? I’m working too, pal.
But I’d survived the cutthroat Korean work culture. I didn’t choose you at random.
Suppressing my irritation, I smiled brightly at him. He frowned like I’d just tried to poison him.
“I saw the receipt you submitted, Sir Reinolf. On the 13th, apparently. Funny thing—no knights were officially allowed outside the palace that day. So how did you end up at Carrie’s Bar? Oh no… Don’t tell me you snuck out. That would be serious. If word gets out, your vacation days will be slashed—possibly permanently.”
As I kept talking, his face turned pale.
Seeing his panic only made my smile sweeter.
“And Carrie’s Bar… is that… gasp… a drinking establishment? You drank—on a restricted day? If Commander Ron finds out—”
“P-Please keep this between us!”
“Hm. I don’t know. I’m just a humble admin staff member. But now I’m really curious about this ‘Carrie’s Bar’…”
“If the commander finds out, I’m dead!”
I emphasized Carrie’s Bar, and Reinolf practically fell to his knees begging.
Now we’re talking.
I hummed in amusement as he squirmed. You had to discipline these young ones early on to keep them in check later.
“Just be careful when submitting receipts, please. If you sneak out, that’s your business. But once it’s on an expense form, it becomes my problem.”
“…Understood. Thank you.”
“And that’s not even what I came here for.”
I pointed toward the supply closet. He followed my gaze and frowned. Clearly, he knew exactly what I meant.
Perfect. I cut to the chase.
“Who did it?”
“Well…”
Reinolf scratched the back of his head and looked down.
Bingo. He knows.
“Was it Sir Giros?”
“No, he was on leave that day.”
“Oh? So Sir Giros was out when it happened? Got it.”
His face turned to despair. Caught with such an obvious bait? You poor, inexperienced fool.
“Let’s see… Giros was on leave two days ago.”
I pulled out the attendance log. Reinolf’s expression darkened even more.
I studied him carefully. If he wasn’t speaking up even now, that meant the culprit was a peer—or a senior.
Though I called him a young knight, that was by my 38-year-old standards. Reinolf was the same age as Ail—twenty. Since most new knights were in their late teens, he had a few years on them.
A senior to Reinolf…
Definitely not Ron. If Ron broke the drawer, he’d have just paid in gold and told us to buy a new one. He’s not the type to sneak in a budget request.
Tch. If I were rich, I’d live like that too.
I combed through the logs—crossing off knights who were out or on leave—and then found a name.
Only one fit the profile.
“Sir Finence, wasn’t it?”
“How did you…?!”
“Thought so. Thanks, Sir Reinolf. Don’t worry—I won’t say you told me.”
I waved at the flustered Reinolf and left the training grounds. I heard him muttering something about secrecy, but I pretended not to hear.
Then I headed straight to the commander’s office. Seeing that red-haired bastard Ron again wasn’t exactly ideal, but in cases like this, going straight to the top was best. If I confronted Finence myself, he’d just deny everything.
Knock knock.
Unlike Ron, who always barged into my office, I politely knocked before swinging the door open.
“What now.”
“Believe me, I didn’t want to see you either. But I’ve got something to report about the supply drawer.”
“The drawer?”
“The one in the supply closet. Didn’t you see it?”
Ron gave me a confused look. Guess he really didn’t know—he had no reason to go into storage rooms.
“Sir Finence broke it and tried to claim it as an expense.”
“What?”
“You’re aware that intentional damage must be paid out of pocket, right? Just let him know the cost will be deducted from his salary.”
“Ail, wait.”
As I turned to leave, Ron hurriedly stopped me. I looked up—and met his deep red eyes, staring intently back.
