| Chapter 39

“And, also, anyway, since an administrative official is a high-ranking person who works close to the king, building a relationship could be helpful for my brother, or other people’s work.”

“Ha.”

Lars let out a breath, dumbfounded, and stood up abruptly. The ‘other people’ I mentioned was, of course, referring to him, so I looked up in surprise. And then I found myself face to face with him as he leaned over, gripping the back of the sofa, his head lowered.

His eyes, not the clear, refreshing green ones like a winter forest, but a flame that was only green in color.

Clearly burning fiercely, yet a flame so cold it was frightening.

While I was captivated by that gaze, my breath caught, Lars spoke in a low, ominous voice.

“Who on earth made a child like you so arrogant?”

“…Pardon?”

“You think you can be of help? Who, how?”

The mockery in his deep eyes was so clear that I couldn’t say anything. It felt like a large stone was stuck in my throat. My face burned red, hot enough to feel the heat. The claws of shame were mercilessly scratching at me.

Lars, his face frozen cold, gripped my chin. The strength was so much greater than any way he had handled me before, immediately causing pain.
Forcing my eyelids to stay open, I managed to look into his eyes as he growled at me.

“Abandon the thought that you can do anything, Lucienne Gwynter. Just grab the luck that’s rolled into your hands.”

I gritted my teeth, not wanting to shed tears. My chin was trembling slightly. Staring at me like a threatening beast, he spoke clearly, as if driving in a stake.

“Never again put words like administrative official or king in that impudent mouth of yours.”

I stubbornly refused to nod. I just glared at his cold eyes, hoping to look as wronged and pitiful as possible in the world, but it didn’t last long. In the end, tears flowed and blurred my vision.

Lars, who had been staring at me heavily, let go of my chin and turned away. After painfully exhaling and roughly wiping away the tears that had flowed down my burning cheeks with my sleeve, I looked up, but he was already gone.

Left alone in the silent room, I felt utterly miserable and broke into sobs.

What on earth did I do so wrong? Wasn’t it something worthy of a pat on the head and being called clever?

Every night I cried worrying whether he was dead or alive, and in the morning I worked harder than anyone to get through the day’s schedule. A few times I woke up crying after seeing Kirhin in my dreams telling me he was dead, but with no way to confirm, I could only stare out the window with a heavy heart.

So what arrogant words did I say, and how much?

“Tch.”

Anger surged and I grabbed a medicine bottle to throw something, anything, but fearing the noise, I changed direction. I threw a couple of innocent sandwiches and cookies, but it didn’t quell my anger. I felt like throwing the epic of Cayonbe, but that was not something that could be done with ordinary resolve.

Frustrated at being unable to do this or that, I finally buried my face in the blanket and cried loudly. After cursing a few times for good measure, my heart calmed a little.

“You jerk. Just watch, I’ll never try to be friendly again.”

As I clenched my fist, speaking in a nasally voice, my eyes suddenly fell on one foot carefully wrapped in bandages and the other with just the blood wiped away.

I remember the warm touch on my tense calf and his profile as he frowned, carefully looking at my wounds. The tears that had stopped for a moment began to pour again.

You jerk.

…When will I be able to see you again?

“You could at least say something before leaving.”

I sniffled, muttering with a sigh. Then I looked out the darkened window with resentful eyes.

The cold wind cooled my feverish face. As time passed, my tangled thoughts began to settle.

“It’s not like there’s no way to make him come when he doesn’t want to.”

I snorted and glared into the empty air.

Lars knows Penu. Quite well, at that. The way he called him ‘that stuffy old man’ had a familiarity that suggested he had spoken with him directly several times.

Whatever the reason he treated me like an arrogant and impudent child, it must be related to Penu. His expression had clearly hardened from the moment I mentioned him.

My eyes were already starting to swell, blurring my vision. I must look somewhat ridiculous, but I didn’t care as I curled my lips into a smile.

“Don’t worry, Father. As you said, I’ll surely grab the luck that’s rolled into my hands.”

After snorting once more as if declaring war, I quickly picked up the medicine bottle. My feet need to heal quickly for me to do anything.

Burning with determination to make him come to me on his own feet, I began pouring disinfectant on my wound-covered feet. Even the stinging pain that made me want to scream couldn’t break my blazing will.

* * *

“It’s not our item.”

“I see. Do you happen to know where I might find a place that deals with such things?”

“Well. Judging by the size of the gem and the craftsmanship, it’s not ordinary. You’d better look around the jewelry stores in the upper town.”

Quido bowed to the jeweler and hurried his steps. The cloudy weather made the wind feel even colder. If it rains, the work will be delayed. Thinking of his impatient master, he shook his head.

The attack that day had failed. But Quido didn’t see it as a failure. Because he had learned a lot.

He couldn’t confirm exactly if it was Bickman who was trying to deal with the Freemont merchant group, but the one protecting him was clearly someone who had experienced war. From the choice of location to the way mercenaries were spread out as sentries, and the skill of using decoys to evacuate the merchant group’s people, these were things that couldn’t be done by someone who hadn’t devised strategies before.

The opponent was someone who had participated in the Askun War. Not as a mere soldier, but as a commander. Moreover, those wielding swords were all skilled, so many of the soldiers who went with Quido were killed or seriously injured.

‘And I found this dropped.’

What he handed to his master, wrapped in a handkerchief, was a perfume bottle. It didn’t look like something a mercenary or ordinary soldier could afford.

Beitram glanced at it while shaking his wrist to shake off the blood on his sword. The bodies of those who had failed to chase the merchant group’s people were strewn on the floor.

In fact, if we were to point out mistakes, Quido, who had led the plan, should be cut down, but since that couldn’t be done, only others were dying. Usually, such actions would be meant to intimidate Quido to not make mistakes next time, but Quido wasn’t scared, and Beitram knew that fact. So this was just Beitram venting his anger.

‘Find the owner.’

‘Yes, and.’

Quido calmly added.

‘The merchant group has postponed the date for bringing in furs and horses. It seems to be a reaction to the attack.’

As he had expected, the Freemont merchant group’s people were not docile. The current head clearly has some weaknesses, but his son Barret has guts. They needed to be careful as he might use this as an excuse to pick unnecessary fights.

‘It’s a matter that can be resolved through persuasion, so I will proceed without problems.’

Beitram frowned, seemingly displeased, though he understood the meaning of the words, and waved his hand dismissively. His mood wasn’t good, so a few more might die, but there was nothing to be done about it.

One creates their own usefulness. Just as that’s the reason he himself is alive.

“Shopkeeper.”

As he entered the store with dazzling jewels displayed from the entrance, a man with a well-groomed beard greeted him. Quido took out the item.

“I’d like to find something like this.”

“Oh, this is…”

The man’s eyes widened as if he recognized it immediately. He put on the glasses tucked in his vest pocket and looked closely before raising his head. His wrinkled eyes held a suspicious light.

“Where did you get this?”

“I picked it up from the ground. I couldn’t find the owner, but I wanted to get the same thing as a gift for my wife.”

“Huh, this isn’t something you can find another of, nor is it something you can easily buy.”

The owner smiled, looking up and down at his plain attire. Quido shrugged.

“If it’s a precious item, that’s even better. Couldn’t I get a reward if I return it to the owner?”

The owner clicked his tongue, wagging his finger as if looking at a seasoned petty schemer.

“That’s for certain. This item belongs to none other than the Miss of the Baron Bickman family.”