Episode 49
I’d brought it up with Shawn because I wanted to analyze it together, and as for Ayl… well, nothing special. I just didn’t want to hide anything from her—no matter how trivial it was.
“You’re thinking about Ayl right now, aren’t you, Captain?”
“How did you know?”
“It’s written all over your face.”
Shawn shook his head at Ron from where he sat at the side of the bed. Even though he was busy handling all the knight order’s business in the captain’s stead, he’d still made time to visit him—only for Ron to be lost in thought about something else.
At Shawn’s chiding, Ron gave a sheepish grin.
“By the way, she brought something like this during the entrance exam too, remember?”
“Oh, right.”
“What happened to that one?”
“His Highness the Crown Prince was curious about it and took it with him.”
“Then we don’t have anything to compare this to.”
Saying that, Shawn took the weapon from Ron’s hands.
It was a device that launched small metal balls: you’d load them inside, pull the trigger, and the magic stone’s power would propel them toward the target. Similar to a cannon, but much smaller and easier to carry.
“It’ll be hard to mass-produce. It uses way too many magic stones.”
“Still, it’s good as a hidden ace in the hole.”
“That’s true. Probably why His Highness took the last one. What about this one? Are you going to report it to him too?”
“I’m still deciding.”
Even the one Naereine used during the entrance exam had been groundbreaking enough. If the Crown Prince learned that an even smaller model had already been developed… what would happen?
Ron didn’t think it was the right time to reveal it yet. Everything had its order and pace—if you tried to skip ahead, trouble always followed sooner or later. That was the conclusion he’d reached after countless battles in the field.
Shawn seemed to agree that they could hold off on reporting it for now.
The weapon was locked away in a custom-made safe Ron had ordered. It probably wouldn’t see the light of day for years.
Shawn dusted off his hands and sat back down beside Ron.
“Oh, by the way, Captain, looks like you’ve got another rival.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Marquis Orion seems to have his eye on Ayl too.”
At that, Ron’s expression twisted in displeasure.
“The marquis? But the age gap… Well, nobles sometimes take younger partners, but still—Ayl is—!”
Before his thoughts could go too far, Shawn raised a hand in front of his face.
“Stop. Not like that. I think he wants to recruit her into the Intelligence Bureau. Apparently he’s already spoken to the Crown Prince about it.”
“The Intelligence Bureau?”
“You know Ayl’s searching for the Prince of Aint, right? Seems she’s doing a pretty good job.”
With Ron bedridden and Shawn buried in knight order work—and the Intelligence Bureau tied up in power struggles between the Crown Prince and Emperor—Ayl was pretty much the only one actively tracking the prince’s movements. Of course, Bureau agents were looking too, but Ayl, who was personally out in the field, had gotten closer to the truth than anyone else. And she’d had some remarkable luck along the way.
Judging from her usual performance, even the prestigious Intelligence Bureau would see her as a talent worth snatching up.
Ron’s scowl deepened. Great. I barely kept her out of the Audit Team, and now it’s the Intelligence Bureau?
“You’d better treat Ayl well, Captain. We’re lucky to have someone the Audit Team, the Crown Prince, and the Intelligence Bureau all want.”
“…Shawn, do you think it might be better to let her go?”
Somehow, the thought process that had been full of resistance earlier now carried a trace of hesitation. Shawn just snorted.
“It’s not about letting her go or not. It’s her choice. If she decides to leave, we can’t stop her anyway.”
Ron nodded. Shawn was right. They didn’t have the authority to decide palace staff assignments, and if Ayl wanted to aim higher, the decent thing to do was let her.
Still…
Ron bit his lip. He wanted her to stay. To go to work together, to come home together, to have dinner together.
Would it work if I just treated her even better?
With that thought, Ron clenched both fists, determined to do his utmost.
Through the window stretched a picture-perfect sea. Staring at the endless horizon made the weight of life feel strangely lighter.
These days, Mishi’s favorite pastime was sketching the view on fresh white paper.
“You should’ve been born a painter, not a prince.”
Queen Illa of Aint often said this when she visited and admired the paintings hanging in his room. And without fail, after she left, expensive paper and paints would be delivered to his residence that evening.
Life in Aint wasn’t so bad. When he’d first been locked up in the tower with Ayl, it had been boring—but that was because it was a prison. Now, he was staying in a small house a little removed from the royal palace.
He still couldn’t go outside the grounds, but he could at least stroll in the front garden. He’d paint the beautiful scenery outside, take a walk when his body felt stiff, read books, brew his favorite tea.
In the midst of these peaceful days, Mishi found himself getting used to the place. Not that he didn’t miss his brother and Ayl.
“How about exhibiting your paintings?”
One day, Illa proposed the idea. It was a waste, she said, for such beautiful works to be seen by her alone.
Mishi asked if it made sense for someone in his position—essentially a prisoner—to hold an exhibition. Illa breezily replied that he could use an alias.
“You could be a mysterious, veiled painter. What do you think?”
She was more serious than he expected. After some thought, Mishi nodded. Having more people see his art was appealing. And if the queen herself approved, why not?
And so, Mishi debuted in the Kingdom of Aint as a prodigious, almost divine, painter shrouded in mystery.
It was common knowledge that Marquis Bareil had been stripped of his title and wealth, then banished to the provinces. But in truth, he hadn’t left the capital at all. He had taken refuge in a building he’d used as a hideout during his marquis days and was operating in secret.
How did I know?
I’d gone back to Marian’s shop just in case, and happened to spot Bareil’s servant again. The moment I saw him, I knew this was a chance that might never come again.
I left the shop and tailed him. After winding through several narrow alleys, he entered a building. When I later told Marquis Orion the location, he said the building had once been registered under Bareil’s name.
I took a seat in the café next door, pretending to be a customer.
This was already my third day doing this. Coming from morning till evening, I’d gotten on friendly terms with the owner, who now happily brought me free bread and drinks.
By the time my stomach was pleasantly full, I was thinking this place was a real dessert gem—everything was delicious. I’d have to get some to take home for Ron later.
“Oh? He’s out.”
I was halfway through my third dessert—Tiramisu—when I spotted Bareil’s servant outside. Shoving the rest of the cake into my mouth, I hurried out of the café, hearing the owner call for me to come again.
Chewing as I walked, I followed him carefully. I’d tailed him for days now, but until today his destinations had been unremarkable—Marian’s for bread, the grocer for food, a pub for beer. I hadn’t expected much from today either.
But this time, he headed in a different direction. No grocer, no pub, no bakery lay that way.
“Where’s he going?”
Since it was broad daylight and the streets were crowded, I kept close. Whenever he glanced back, I’d buy ice cream or cotton candy and pretend to be distracted.
Though lately, I was starting to think I’d put on some weight.
Nibbling on the cotton candy, I trailed after him as he turned through more alleys. Eventually, he entered a building. Seriously, why are there so many alleys here? I couldn’t let my guard down for even a second.
Looking up, I saw the sign: Guild Association.
Guild Association? What did they do here?
I finished my cotton candy, dusted my hands, and went inside.
The exterior was plain, but the interior had a unique layout—a large central lobby with corridors branching off in all directions. Each was labeled: Information Guild, Fist Guild, Errand Guild, and so on. You apparently just went to the guild you needed.
“Which way did he go?”
The servant was nowhere in sight. As I loitered, a woman who seemed to be a guild member approached and asked my business.
“Uh… I’m looking for someone.”
She smiled and pointed me toward the Information Guild. No, I meant someone who just came in here.
Unable to say that out loud, I reluctantly headed toward the Information Guild—better than lingering in the lobby and raising suspicion.
And there, I realized that divine luck really did exist—because the servant was sitting in the waiting area.
“Please take a number.”
Following the clerk’s instructions, I pulled a ticket and sat behind him. Before long, his number was called, and he rose to head for an open booth.
