Chapter 31
Hasel tossed aside the wolf pelt and approached a nearby city guard. He drew back his cloak, revealing the insignia etched into the sword at his waist.
“I am Hasel Nosroth, aide to His Highness the Crown Prince. Send patrols into the back alleys immediately. His Highness is wandering there as we speak. Hurry!”
“Y-Yes, at once!”
The guard quickly blew his whistle, and patrolmen gathered in perfect order. After a brief exchange, some rushed off into the alleys, while others sped toward the constabulary.
“Clerk Shanael, please—head to the infirmary at once and get that wound treated.”
Before I could reply, Hasel had already slung his hunting crossbow over his shoulder and vanished into the streets. It wasn’t that I didn’t worry about the Crown Prince, but in truth, there was nothing I could do.
For now, I needed to treat the bleeding cut on my hand. So I headed to the nearest infirmary, a public medical house often used by commoners. Though its facilities were modest, the treatment was cheap, and the staff kind.
When my turn came, the physician applied a poultice of hemostatic herbs to my hand and wrapped it in fresh bandages.
Leaving the infirmary, I noticed a girl exiting the neighboring herb shop, her arms full of medicine bundles. Her patched, threadbare clothes betrayed her poverty, yet the herbs she carried were worth more than a few coins.
Strange. Why would a girl like her buy such expensive herbs?
Our eyes met as she passed, and I froze in shock.
“What? She has the same odd eyes as that boy from earlier—an odd-eye, black and gold.”
I had lived in the capital for years, but never once had I seen someone with heterochromatic eyes like that. Something told me strongly that the boy and this girl were siblings.
“If I follow her… maybe I’ll find His Highness safe.”
After all, I had chased a boy with those same eyes not long ago.
Worry for Jereon overcame hesitation. I began to trail the girl. She walked along the marketplace, then slipped into a narrow, deserted passage between buildings. The sound of her small footsteps echoed down the dim alley, and I crept after her, pressing close to moss-covered walls that made my skin crawl.
At last, she stopped before a shabby wooden door of an old house. Pushing it open, she disappeared inside. Through the crack, I glimpsed a faint firelight and heard a racking cough.
I drew closer and peered through the window. The girl set the herbs near the hearth, then hurried to tend someone lying on a bed.
No Crown Prince. No boy either.
“Did I guess wrong…?”
I was about to turn away when a shadow approached the house. Startled, I crouched behind a barrel.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
The door creaked.
“—I’m back.”
“Brother! I bought the herbs for our younger sibling. But… wait, are you hurt?”
“Hm? No, I just tripped, that’s all.”
I edged back to the window. Though dim, I could see enough.
“That’s him! The pickpocket boy!”
I remembered the torn sleeve I had grabbed, the frayed edge of fabric. And there it was again, dangling from his arm. More damning still—he placed a heavy purse upon the table.
It was unmistakably the Crown Prince’s.
“So… His Highness failed to catch him and returned to the palace? Please, let it be so…”
But then the boy drew a dagger from his belt—its blade smeared with blood. Not a few drops, but soaked red.
“That much blood couldn’t have come from just grazing my hand… then where… whose blood…?”
Panic flooded me. If Jereon was wounded, there was no time to lose. I seized a rusty iron rod from the ground and, with a deep breath, slammed the door open.
The children inside flinched, their strange eyes gleaming in the dim firelight—gold flashing like a predator’s gaze.
Still, I stood firm.
“The man you were chasing! The one in the raccoon cap! What did you do to him?!”
“What—?! You followed me here?”
I raised the rod defensively. The boy shielded the bed and shouted:
“I told you—I don’t know! He got away! I don’t know where he is!”
“Then what about the blood on your dagger, huh? Explain that!”
“Wild dogs attacked me on the way home. I stabbed them, that’s all!”
“You swear it’s not human blood?!”
“It isn’t! Believe me!”
We stared each other down. My eyes flicked toward the purse, and suddenly the boy lunged. He tackled me, knocking the rod from my grip.
The girl snatched it up and leveled it at me, trembling but determined.
“G-Get out! This is our home—leave us alone!”
The boy grabbed his dagger and pointed it straight at me.
“I’m sorry I cut your hand earlier, but I’ve never killed anyone! So just get out!”
A fit of coughing broke the tension. The child in the bed curled up in pain, wheezing desperately.
The girl faltered, torn between keeping me out and tending her brother. In the end, she dropped the rod and rushed to his side.
I glanced at the sick boy. The rash across his body told me this was no mere cold. And yet, I remembered—the herbs she bought were only for suppressing coughs, nothing more.
“Listen… that’s not a cold. Colds don’t cause rashes like that. You need to take him to the infirmary—now.”
“Don’t you think I know?! But we can’t! We don’t have citizenship. Without it, no one will treat us!”
And there it was—the reason. No doctor, no care, not for children like them.
I stared at the stolen purse. So that was why.
“Then… let me help you. There might be another way.”
“What way?”
“First, return that purse to its rightful owner. Then I’ll persuade him to help you.”
“Lies.”
“What?”
“All of you imperials lie! You promised my family a good life if we paid your fare. We even sold my father’s keepsake. And what happened? You dumped us at the docks! We had nothing. We starved in the streets!”
“…I see.”
“So get out! I don’t want to hear your lies anymore!”
The purse should have gone back to its owner—but seeing their plight, I couldn’t bring myself to take it.
I brushed my filthy bandage absently. If only life were as simple as those old stories—where the good are rewarded and the wicked punished. But reality was never so clear.
I turned, defeated, reaching for the loose door handle. Before I could pull it, the door burst open from the outside.
A tall figure stood in the doorway, golden hair shining where the raccoon cap had been cast aside.
He looked down at me with a faint, knowing smile.
“Oh? Shanael—what are you doing here?”
“Your Highness! I was so worried! Are you hurt? And… your cap?”
“I threw it to distract the wild dogs. But what about you? Did you get your hand treated?”
He clicked his tongue at the sight of my soiled bandages.
“How many times must I tell you—not to wander into places like this? You should have stayed put.”
Relief swept through me.
“Thank goodness… I thought something had happened to you in the alleys.”
“Didn’t I say? I’ve been coming to these alleys since I was fifteen. Mostly to shake Hasel off whenever he tailed me too closely.”
“…You could have said so sooner.”
A fresh round of coughing drew our attention.
The Crown Prince’s gaze shifted to the frightened children, huddled behind their brother. His eyes softened, but the boy tensed, clutching the purse tighter as though facing judgment itself.
