Chapter 1 – I Woke Up and It Was 5 Years Ago (8)

It wasn’t just unused weapons that mercenaries pawned and never returned for, but also some jewelry pieces with precious metals that ended up at Marcone’s.

Perhaps a silk handkerchief given by a first love from their hometown, maybe a cameo necklace inherited from a deceased mother, possibly an ancestral protective dagger, or likely a brooch sneaked out during a noble infiltration mission…

‘Things I never paid much attention to before.’

Most were commoners’ jewelry or outdated pieces, not something to hold one’s gaze for long. However, after recognizing Moniel’s magic stones at the street stall, Chloe found herself drawn to the jeweled accessories.

Chloe’s eye for such things was just enough not to be easily fooled by swindlers, like most nobles. However, having lived in a country where jewels and magic stones were specialties, she had developed quite a discerning eye for the finest items.

‘A sapphire can’t be high-end with a design that was trendy ten years ago. Anyone can see this is just a colored glass shard. Even a 7th-century design with Moniel-style cutting might have a retro appeal…’

The anxious feeling Chloe had about asking Marco something had vanished, and she became engrossed in rummaging through the accessory box.

Her life as a royal consort in Scandar was indeed luxurious. In winter, furs; in summer, thin silks; year-round, large and small jewels, each with its unique color and texture, flooded into the palace. Chloe’s refined taste must have developed thanks to this.

‘What’s this?’

Her skilled hands, sorting through the jewelry, caught on a pendant with a gemstone the size of her thumbnail set in the center.

At first glance, it was a crudely cut cloudy gem, but the light reflecting off its edges was unusual.

“What are you looking at?”

Mirabelle, who had been admiring daggers from the Western Continent, approached with a few in hand.

“Did you find something again?”

“Just hoping to get lucky and find something worthwhile. Want to see?”

“I’m just in a position to use whatever you decide on, young lady.”

Mirabelle declined in a playful tone.

She was used to acquiring items deemed necessary for a noble young lady from the dressmakers Chloe visited or the merchants visiting the Lacroix countess and her daughter.

“Take a look.”

Chloe handed the daggers back to Mirabelle and gave her the pendant. Mirabelle, having no choice, held it up to the dim sunlight streaming through the window or towards the magic stone lamp, but to her eyes, it was just a pale piece.

“Is this something special?”

“I think I’ve seen this kind of cutting in a book…”

Desirable, indeed. Perhaps because she couldn’t covet the first person she liked, her young lady wasn’t skilled at being greedy. Mirabelle scolded the familiar face they had accompanied until a moment ago, at least in her mind.

“Marco! How much is this? I want this too!”

“Everything in that box is 10 silver each! And call me the owner, young lady!”

Is there any need to advertise that a noble young lady is a regular here? 

Mirabelle tossed the pendant to the grumbling Marco.

The other customers had long left, and the items Mirabelle intended to buy were placed in front of the sales counter. Marco began packing the pendant along with them, grumbling all the while.

Watching him, Chloe rolled the question she’d been pondering since she entered the store around in her mouth again.

“Is there a Scandarian staying in this building?”

No one would know, but to her, who couldn’t betray Scandar, it felt like cutting her own flesh to ask.

How could she explain the discomfort she felt when she arrived at Marcone’s as promised with Mirabelle yesterday?

It felt strangely like it had been a long time since she last visited a place she used to frequent one out of every three outings with Mirabelle, perhaps because she hadn’t been there in the ‘future’ Chloe was to live out.

‘Marcone’s is closing down. The shop building collapsed due to a previous terrorist attack.’

Mirabelle’s voice, which she had once heard in passing, suddenly rang in her ears.

The events of this time, forgotten until she encountered a Scandarian at the festival marketplace, began to vividly resurface in her memory.

The festival week parade terrorist attack carried out by the Scandar separatists. They simultaneously detonated smoke bombs along the parade route, creating chaos, and amidst it all, the phrase “Long live independent Scandar” was launched into the sky.

The crime was carried out by a small number of people despite its large scale, which was enough to paralyze the crowds filling the capital’s main streets, making it difficult to apprehend them. The identities of the perpetrators were clear, but their whereabouts were unknown.

One of the places naturally pointed out as a spot where reactionaries might hide and blend in was the inn room above Marcone’s. When the guards approached to search, a trap set for evidence destruction was triggered, causing the building to collapse.

So, in this very building, there was a hideout for the separatists.

That evening, after finishing dinner with her family, Chloe coaxed Mirabelle into secretly leaving the mansion.

When she expressed a desire to visit the festival night market, Mirabelle agreed without question. As Chloe’s maid and escort, Mirabelle couldn’t go out for night outings without Chloe, so she wouldn’t miss the opportunity.

The timing was perfect, as Dee had left the mansion following Achille’s night outing, making it easier to deceive the servants’ eyes.

“It’s refreshing to be out at night for the first time in a while.”

“Is that something you should say when you’ve always claimed it’s dangerous outside the mansion at night?”

All she could do was laugh. Whatever it was, it was good to have a change after a long time.

A somewhat coarse but durable fabric, a skirt that awkwardly reached the calves but didn’t get in the way. Underneath the commoner-style clothes were training shoes worn by knight cadets. The feeling of soft lambskin enveloping her feet and the good grip of the soles blocking the uneven ground was nostalgic, so she playfully bounced around.

‘It’s really been a while. Rabi wouldn’t know.’

In her childhood, they often sneaked out of the mansion together, but after starting at Ridote, she became more engrossed in social gatherings with her peers than night outings. The books she shared and read with Demetrian once or twice a month also grew in thickness and depth.

Even so, when Mirabelle begged, they ventured out once in a while, but during the past few years in Scandar, it was truly unimaginable. Not doing it and not being able to do it were different.

‘Come to think of it, Mirabelle lost something else when she went to Scandar with me.’

A laugh, unsure if it was bitter or distant, escaped her.

No matter what, Mirabelle was the only one who got scolded after enjoying a night out, but since she enjoyed the night outings together, Mirabelle willingly accepted it.

“Be honest. Why did you ask to come out?”

Don’t underestimate nearly twenty years of familiarity.

Mirabelle said.

Chloe was pondering how to suggest going to the Artisan District instead of the night market when she welcomed the opportunity and spoke in a serious tone.

“I had a dream.”

“Huh?”

“In Marco’s building, a bunch of bombs came pouring out. Those bombs rolled down Philip I Avenue, Angela Street, and Pedro Street. Isn’t it a prophetic dream about a bomb attack during the parade?”

It was a deliberately absurd story she made up.

‘It’s a dream, so who knows.’

“Did the Lord give you a dream? You’re not even a priest.”

“That’s why I suggest we go to the Artisan District. If it’s just a dream, we can try some of the drinks they sell there. You brought your wallet, right?”

She’s suggesting they play detective and have some beer. 

No way, as if you’d like that place. 

Despite the scolding, Mirabelle willingly led the way.

Chloe, riding in a public carriage through the night streets, couldn’t understand why she was doing this.

It wasn’t out of a kind heart wanting to save innocent citizens. It was a different level from what she did during the day, and besides, this incident was something she had only read about in newspapers.

For noble young ladies like Chloe, the festival parade was merely a childhood memory, and as they matured, it was considered dignified to avoid what was seen as commoners’ entertainment. Even if curious, viewing from a high-floor salon near Franz Square with a good view was sufficient.

After all, it wasn’t an incident with many casualties. While the severity of an incident isn’t determined by the number of casualties, it wasn’t urgent enough for a high-ranking noble lady to rush through the night streets.

She simply had a strong desire to confirm it.

The petty criminals, including the Uniform Man, were the kind of ruffians one might encounter in any chaos, and the knowledge she’d accumulated in Scandar could be mistaken for something she’d read in a book.

But if something that might happen once in a decade was happening in the Artisan District at night, a place she’d never have visited in her lifetime, wouldn’t that be something truly credible?

‘What can I do if I can’t believe it despite confirming it repeatedly? But if even this happens, then it truly isn’t a dream…’

Chloe tightened her grip on Mirabelle’s arm.

The alley where Marcone was located had a completely different atmosphere from when she visited during the day. The Artisan District behind it was dark as the workshops were closed, but this alley alone was brightly lit and bustling.

The outdoor seats of the tavern behind Marcone, which during the day emitted a gentle murmur like a senior citizens’ center, were now filled with burly figures each holding a beer mug. Thanks to the mercenaries who came to Marcone to buy or deposit weapons staying in the area, this street, which became a gathering place for mercenaries in a different sense from the Mercenary Guild, was often called ‘Mercenary Street.’ The Mercenary Street area was filled with mercenaries, those seeking help from mercenaries, those trying to extract information from them, and those targeting them.

Chloe and Mirabelle watched from the opposite alley, where the bright lights cast shadows. No matter how much they wore robes, it was too obvious they were out of place, so they couldn’t act recklessly.

“Priestess, where did the bombs come pouring out from?”

If that’s true, shouldn’t you pack up and head to the Holy Kingdom immediately? 

Mirabelle teased.

Chloe hadn’t come out blindly, relying solely on a vague memory. She had something to believe in.