Chapter 1

When their parents died in an accident, Karen and Cedine lost their support overnight.

The court tried to find a guardian among the sisters’ relatives. But it was no easy task to find a guardian who met the conditions of the will of the baronet couple. Those who were after the inheritance the sisters would receive, as well as those who approached with sympathy and compassion, withdrew after calculating the education expenses for the Liere sisters.

One relative recommended a convent. Not to become nuns, but as a decent option for temporary lodging until they came of age.

Karen, the elder sister, sat young Cedine down and listed the reasons why we shouldn’t go to a convent. Cedine, who had been tempted by the relative’s assurance that there would be no immediate worries about food, clothing, and shelter, gave up the idea at her sister’s threat that questions would be prohibited there.

Prohibition of questions? That’s impossible. With her personality of not being able to resist curiosity, it was clear that she would starve every day if she went to a convent.

“We need to receive the best education, Cedie.”

Karen said in a resolute tone.

“Because we’re smart.”

But Karen was wrong. The sisters weren’t just smart, they possessed blessed talents. Before that week was over, Karen took her sister’s hand and visited the mansion of Duke Crotsfield.

“Test us.”

The Duke, who had only been trying to avoid rumors of turning away orphaned girls from a baronet family who had suffered a tragic accident, smiled bitterly at the abrupt request to test them. He had originally intended to just serve refreshments and send the girls away, but Karen was persistent. The Duke had no choice but to conduct a beginner-level test.

By the time the sisters had effortlessly completed intermediate and advanced level tests, the Duke was snorting with excitement. Cedine only learned later that he was the director of the Royal Academy for Gifted Children.

On Duke Crotsfield’s orders, places for the sisters were immediately created at the Academy. There, the sisters could learn and ask questions to their heart’s content. The best experts in the kingdom were their teachers. If they could endure the tedium of ideological indoctrination about repaying this favor by later serving the country loyally, the rest was all good. Cedine thought she could dare to describe life at the Academy as enjoyable.

When Cedine turned sixteen, her affiliation changed mysteriously. Just like her sister Karen had, she moved from the Royal Academy for Gifted Children to the elite course of the Intelligence Bureau.

Around that time, Duke Crotsfield began to act more earnestly as the sisters’ foster father. Of course, the Liere sisters were perceptive women and knew that this act was just that — an act.

“If he really thought of us as his real daughters, he should give us a castle each. Don’t you think?”

After Karen came of age and started being deployed on so-called ‘operations’, it became harder to see her sister’s face than before. Cedine would laugh and agree whenever her sister made such cynical jokes.

“And a diamond necklace dripping with jewels.”

“A silk dress with a long train too.”

“And champagne so expensive it makes your jaw drop!”

“And for birthdays, a small island in Monte Ferona. Or a hotel on the cliffs adjoining the Sea of Tior.”

Cedine found everything her sister said funny and delightful. She thought that Karen truly had an extraordinary sense of scale. An island or a seaside hotel, imagine that. When Cedine said even the Duke’s real daughter would hardly receive such gifts on her birthday, Karen prettily narrowed her eyes.

“You still don’t know how rich that man is.”

Of course he’d be rich. He’s a Duke after all. And also the King’s sixth cousin.

Moreover, after changing affiliations, Cedine found that the Duke also held a position in the Intelligence Bureau. Cedine actually suspected that the Duke’s main job was Deputy Director of the Intelligence Bureau, and being the director of the Academy was just a side job. He was probably keeping an eye on the exceptionally gifted students to divert them to the Intelligence Bureau.

Well, apart from the atmosphere being incomparably more rigid than at the Academy, the Intelligence Bureau wasn’t too bad either. Cedine realized then that she was the type who had no major complaints as long as her basic needs and learning environment were taken care of.

Then, in the summer of her twentieth year, she met that man. Ivlik Wintermore. The wolf of the Army Ministry, known as the Bluebeard. Only a few belonging to the top 1% of the elite course could receive special tutoring from him.

The Director of the Intelligence Bureau emphasized that he had personally visited the Army Ministry headquarters to invite Ivlik, who belonged to a different department, as an instructor. Stressing that this was not an opportunity given to just anyone, he expressed his hope that everyone would pass without any dropouts. The trainees exchanged glances at these words.

We’re dead.

That was roughly the meaning. There was no doubt that this summer would be the worst summer ever.

Though it was called a tutoring room, that room was not much different from a suspect interrogation room. The room, coated with lime, was dim, and a crude iron table was placed right in the center. The only lighting was a single lamp illuminating the table. Cedine looked at the lamp hanging down from the high ceiling and thought.

Good for strangling with a rope, she mused.

The more she looked at the not-so-large lampshade, the more convinced she became that it was hung there for exactly that purpose. Or perhaps it could be used for threats like pressing a hot bulb against someone’s face.

The reason Cedine had such thoughts as soon as she entered the room was not because she had sadistic tendencies. It was because she didn’t want to lose the psychological battle to the instructor she would soon face.

And such tendencies were more appropriate for describing that man rather than Cedine. Ivlik’s ‘special’ tastes must have contributed to his rise to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel in the Army Ministry at such a young age.

It was said that he enjoyed pushing people’s minds to the edge, breaking them down, and then inflicting physical pain on top of that. Cedine was well aware of the rumors about a private torture chamber in the basement of the fortress-like Wintermore mansion.

If Ivlik had been a teacher or a philanthropist, he might have been socially buried. But Ivlik Wintermore was a soldier. Spies from enemy countries, political prisoners, those who had stubbornly refused to open their mouths — they all spilled everything in front of Ivlik, down to stories of stealing candy from the neighborhood store as children.

No wonder Ivlik was the darling of the Army Ministry.

You could call it his calling.

Cedine glanced at her wristwatch.

“Two minutes left… Looks like he’s going to be punctual to the second.”

There was no clock in the tutoring room. No windows to see the sky either. All means of estimating the passage of time had been completely removed.

Ivlik had not provided a curriculum for the special tutoring that would take place over 6 weeks. Whether they would always receive lessons here, or if the tutoring room would change each time. Cedine and the other trainees hadn’t even been informed of such basic details.

[I’m looking forward to it, but it seems a bit arbitrary.]

It was earlier when they were gathered in the waiting room. Someone among the trainees had blurted out.

[To him, we’re probably just troublesome rookies. I hope he doesn’t just kill time for 6 weeks?]