Chapter 6 – Loyalty Washed Away

Huff.  

Danielle shuddered as she opened her eyes. Even though it was the season when the sun rose early, the outside was still a bluish hue. It was a time when the sound of insects was more prominent than birdsong, and the thin curtains absorbed just enough light to faintly glow.  

“Another restless night…”  

Still lying down, Danielle fumbled around with her hand to find the glass of water and grasped it. Lazily tilting her head, she drank, but ended up choking, spilling water all over her nightgown. Coughing and sputtering, she rolled out of bed, shook off her clothes, and placed her cold, wet hand on her forehead with a sigh.  

Her body, having endured the nightmares of a summer night, was drenched in sweat, cold sweats, water… in short, it was unpleasantly damp all over. 

Was this the price for harboring ill thoughts?

The man with the tortoiseshell mask kept appearing in her dreams, tormenting her whenever she was about to forget him.

The affair starting at the masquerade ball… No, let’s broaden the scope a bit. Romance novels that started at masquerade balls typically unfolded in a certain way. The protagonists, before donning their masks, might already know each other—or they might not. How they were connected was up to the story’s discretion. However, in most cases, there was one thing the male and female protagonists absolutely had to do at a masquerade ball before leaving: spend the night together.

Sometimes, it’s simply out of mutual attraction, sometimes due to one party’s scheme, or… in some cases, because one of them is barely conscious after consuming some drug. Female investigators who had dealt with such dangerous substances in real life often read these kinds of romance novels (which overwhelmingly dominated this category) while cursing them under their breath. They would scoff, saying, ‘Anyone drugged like that would be foaming at the mouth and convulsing, a hundred times out of a hundred. Forget about the dashing man; where would you even get such a drug in the first place?’ Yet, seeing similar books stacked high in the women’s lounge suggested that many secretly hadn’t given up on their dreams and hopes.  

And the person who fulfilled those dreams and hopes? That glorious name was none other than:  

‘Who else but Her Imperial Majesty, Princess Cléran.’

Moreover, the drug’s original purpose was nothing more than a mosquito repellent. And it was indeed an incredibly effective one. In fact, Danielle hadn’t been bitten even once by a mosquito on her way home that night. 

Congratulations, Your Highness… Now you can enjoy your outdoor hobbies in peace without even a whisper of this miraculous invention.

Danielle shivered as she touched her wet clothes. That was the reason for her nightmares.  

‘Surely he didn’t die because I left him like that, did he?’ 

Up until that moment, the man had been not just strong but energetic. From Danielle’s perspective, it was overzealousness. The sudden loss of will at the end seemed less a physical issue and more… well, it was physical, but the psychological blow appeared greater.  

But Danielle was no different. The only reference material she had was the romance novels in the women’s lounge, so realizing that it was now a reality had thrown her into utter confusion.  

What do inexperienced female protagonists do in such situations? They would roll up their sleeves with a determined heart, as if they were doctors, and save the male protagonist’s life. In other words, without the heroine’s noble resolve, the hero would have perished. By the time she reached this thought, she had already fled home in a half-dazed state, doused herself in cold water from head to toe, and crawled into bed.  

Surely… surely Her Highness the Princess wouldn’t have scattered a potentially lethal drug all over the ballroom. No, such a thing couldn’t possibly kill someone. Could it? 

Danielle, not being a man, couldn’t know for sure.

‘People should live with restraint, according to time, place, and context.’  

Lawrence Weiss’s opinion on this matter (though accompanied by highly inappropriate jokes) was relatively moderate. Although she couldn’t bring herself to confess today’s events, even if she had, his response likely wouldn’t have been much different.  

What about the other men she knew… for instance, Cyril Frey?  

As her thoughts wandered to this point, Danielle startled herself, slapped her cheeks, and draped a towel over her still-damp hair. Cyril wasn’t someone she could think of in that way. Especially not when he was her fiancé, someone she could marry and share a bed with at any time.  

To entertain such thoughts about Cyril was, in other words, something she had to avoid at all costs, as it felt like it could easily become reality. Danielle wasn’t ready—perhaps never would be—to make such a decision.  

The man with the cat mask, tall like Cyril and blonde like Cyril… Had he escaped that predicament unscathed? Had he been discovered by a royal attendant and chased out in disgrace? As long as he hadn’t been arrested by the guards, that alone might count as a decent ending…

Danielle, lying under the covers, briefly worried about the unnamed scoundrel’s well-being before drifting into a light sleep.  

And from that day onward, that man began to make Danielle’s dreams increasingly uncomfortable.  

***

The month of regular personnel appointments had arrived. Though it was called the autumn rotation, only ten days had passed since the summer festival. The Royal Investigation Bureau’s appointments proceeded as planned, with only a few changes.  

The most notable change was that the name on the director’s appointment letter was no longer Egir Bouclan but Godfrey Ingram. Additionally, Katarin Martel, hailed as the most outstanding recruit among the trainee investigators, was assigned to the newly established Investigation Cooperation Office.  

While former Director Bouclan had indeed favored Katarin, there was no one in the entire bureau who disliked her. Naturally, gossipmongers began speculating whether there was an uneasy relationship between Katarin’s mother, Countess Martel, and the new director, Godfrey Ingram.  

Countess Irene Martel, a traditional noble who shuttled between the capital and her estate without engaging in much bureaucratic work, expressed her frustration.  

“You didn’t need to find a job to support us. Didn’t I tell you we already have plenty of means to live on? Why take on such dangerous work and risk baseless accusations?”  

“Not everyone in the court works because they need the money, Mother. Besides, you’ve always disliked Duke Ingram.”  

“Well, who doesn’t dislike that man!”  

So, in truth, there wasn’t much to feel wronged about. Katarin managed to soothe her disheartened mother and send her back to the estate, then set up her investigation headquarters right at the Martel residence.  

Danielle Odillon, the one who had brought Katarin into the Royal Investigation Bureau in the first place, became the main visitor to this new investigation headquarters. Danielle spread out an assortment of snacks she had purchased from the “best patisserie in the capital” on the large table. Despite the unsettling circumstances surrounding the emperor’s gift of those confections, they were incredibly delicious, and the bureau’s young members visited daily, spending their entire salaries on them.

The shop named “Rose Flower Shop” had nothing to do with confections. Its name came from the time when the owner actually ran a flower shop and simply kept the old sign. ‘Selling sweets is much more beneficial to society than flowers,’ Danielle thought, offering her unromantic evaluation as she piled raspberry jam onto a biscuit and stuffed it into her mouth. Meanwhile, Katarin, the homeowner, poured tea for her. Sitting beside them, Lawrence read aloud a report from Jermi, who had come from Nisa.  

It seemed that the small incident in the capital had not yet reached the port city of Nisa, where spices temporarily stopped over after crossing the continent.  

The report concluded with a smuggler’s note detailing the next meeting’s date, time, and location. Lawrence, having read the several-page report aloud, downed his still-hot tea in one gulp and burned the roof of his mouth. Danielle, looking at her senior with cold eyes, made a suggestion.  

“Let’s act like we never received it—the unrefined sample.”  

“What?”  

“I didn’t receive that sample directly from the contact. It was…”  

Danielle paused and cleared her throat. The details involving the mysterious man were a secret, even from her senior.  

“… something the contact dropped, and I just picked it up. And as I reported, there was an intruder at the scene.”  

“Ah, clever. So, we’re going to negotiate for the sample again?”  

“Well, that’s one way. Or, we could use this to secure an advantageous position—like rescheduling the meeting on our terms or stalling for time by nitpicking…”  

Or perhaps they could even use the intruder as bait and capture both sides. Danielle, not particularly cautious, began forming an arrest plan. The person targeting this suspicious exchange had spread rumors far and wide, making it impossible not to hear about it. This even led to unexpected small fry falling into their sweet trap, which earned the Economic Crimes Division an exciting prospect for their year-end bonus party. Danielle, disgusted by the department’s giddy atmosphere, fled. This was not the kind of work she wanted to do.  

“So, do you think the intruder has heard the news? There hasn’t been any noticeable movement.”  

“Those ‘noble lords’ have their own information networks. They couldn’t not know what we’re up to.”  

In fact, there had been no noticeable movement last time either. It had just been an intruder who suddenly appeared. Katarin, instead of pointing this out, simply offered more tea.  

Among the three suspects arrested by the Economic Crimes Division, one was blonde, but Danielle was certain none of them was the man she was looking for. After all, about one-third of the capital’s population had blonde hair. Her colleagues looked at her skeptically when she claimed she could recognize the man despite him wearing a magical mask that obscured his identity… but, well, if she said so, that was that. Danielle was confident. If they met in person… assuming he had survived that ordeal.  

Danielle closed the report and stood up. Taking out the magical white mask, she used it to wrap a biscuit. When she heard that the prototype mask had been officially declared lost, she pocketed it without a shred of guilt. After confirming that its magic remained intact even after several washes, she had started treating it like a handkerchief.  

“Alright. Whether they come or not, let’s spread the word again. Relay the message that we’ll meet once more to renegotiate the terms of the deal. The date will be three days from now, and they can decide the location, okay?”