ESL Chapter 56

Cheor, who had been about to bow, stopped mid-motion at Lanster’s next words. As he raised his head to look, the Crown Prince smiled pleasantly and said,

“If we search the royal palace and the person still doesn’t turn up, what becomes of the royal family’s dignity? So let me make a proposal.”

“…Please speak.”

“If we search the entire palace and Luciel Lucan Mihael is nowhere to be found, the Mihael Ducal House will offer two years of diamond mine excavation rights to the royal family as an apology. And you will never again bring up anything about wanting to search the royal palace.”

“………”

“Doesn’t that sound like a fair proposal? Damaging the royal family’s honor ought to cost at least that much.”

“…I see. I will gladly give it.”

Grinding his teeth invisibly at Lanster’s smiling face, Cheor accepted. Recapturing Luciel was far more important than some diamond mine excavation rights. But the Crown Prince was no pushover. Cheor was only able to leave the office after a contract had been drawn up and signed.

“Slippery snake.”

The moment Cheor left, Lanster tossed aside the contract he had been holding and fanning about with an air of satisfaction, now looking utterly indifferent to it. He flopped down onto the sofa and muttered,

“Unbelievable, you say? A frail child, you say? He’s the one who killed her, and yet he runs his mouth so smoothly.”

“Even so, he is still the Acting Duke of Mihael for now, Your Highness. And you mustn’t throw away something this useful. You know full well that one year’s worth of diamond mine excavation rights from the Mihael Ducal House is equivalent to three years of the royal family’s budget.”

A steward who had been nowhere in sight while Cheor was present appeared from somewhere and carefully picked up the contract Lanster had thrown. He was a middle-aged man who appeared to be quite seasoned in years, and his sharp-rimmed glasses gave him a keen, shrewd impression. As Lanster watched him open the safe in the office and store the contract inside, he chuckled and said,

“That scrap of paper is nothing compared to the one who will become the next Duke of Mihael. Don’t you agree, Thomas? So tell me — has Luciel been found? It seems he managed to escape that man’s clutches somehow.”

At the Crown Prince’s question, Thomas closed the safe and locked it with a key as he replied,

“We have not found him, but we have received a letter.”

“So we haven’t found him… what? We received a letter?!”

At the word letter, Lanster shot upright from where he had been sprawled across the sofa. Meanwhile, Thomas placed the key into a hidden drawer, then approached him and drew a letter from inside his coat, presenting it respectfully. Lanster confirmed Luciel’s seal engraved on the envelope and exhaled with evident relief.

“So he’s alive, at least. Sending a letter like this. Did it come through that channel?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Well, if it hadn’t, it would have already fallen into the Acting Duke of Mihael’s hands.”

Lanster quickly tore open the envelope and drew out the letter. He read through its contents in an instant, his crimson eyes gleaming as he spoke.

“Prepare a royal carriage in secret. Have it ready to depart once the Acting Duke of Mihael has finished searching the palace and returned home. I need to bring that person here.”

****

Ding. The bell hanging on the tavern door chimed lightly, and the bartender who had been wiping glasses behind the bar looked up toward the entrance.

“Welcome.”

Stepping inside to the bartender’s greeting, Lea found herself smiling faintly without realizing it at the familiar atmosphere of a tavern she hadn’t seen in so long. Back when she was in the Kingdom of Hamel, she had frequented places like this quite often — not to drink, but to apprehend wanted criminals who happened to be drinking. Come to think of it, she had wrecked more than a few tavern interiors while subduing the ones who put up a fight.

Berchel, misreading Lea’s habit of scanning the room for anyone resembling a fugitive as simple wide-eyed curiosity at the unfamiliar surroundings, thought to himself that they should meet with Zender and leave as quickly as possible.

A young lady like her really isn’t suited for a place like this.

Cigarette smoke drifting from every corner, drunk patrons swaying and lurching about, loud voices cutting back and forth — Berchel shook his head as if to say this won’t do, and walked straight up to the bartender.

“I’m here to meet a long-term guest on the second floor.”

“Who shall I say is calling?”

The bartender asked without pausing the hand wiping the glass.

“Say it’s Berchel. He’ll know.”

“One moment, please.”

Only then did the bartender set down the glass and emerge from behind the bar, heading upstairs. A short while later he came back down, gesturing toward the staircase with a nod.

“Go up and it’s the last room at the end of the second floor.”

At the bartender’s words, Berchel and Lea went upstairs and made their way to the room at the very end of the hall. They stopped in front of the door and knocked, and a low, deep voice came from within.

“Come in.”

They opened the door and entered to find a middle-aged man with mouse-grey hair seated at a desk, reading something. The man looked up, and his face was, on the whole, unremarkably ordinary in appearance — except that one of his eyes was distinctly a glass eye, its pupil absent. He didn’t look like someone who would ever get into a fight, yet Lea could sense the powerful mana contained within him.

At minimum, two levels above Ian… possibly on par with Luciel or even me.

She had never crossed blades with Luciel directly, but judging by the mana she had felt from him, this man called Zender had a comparable level of mana to his. So he truly was the leader of the Black Kavan — he was not someone to take lightly.

“It’s been a while, Zender Kman.”

“It has, Berchel.”

Zender gave a slight nod in response to Berchel’s greeting, then his gaze shifted to Lea, who was still wearing her robe pulled up over her head.

“It seems you’ve brought another guest. Who might this be?”

“A friend of Lord Luciel’s. They were worried and came along to accompany me.”

“Oh… a friend of Lord Luciel’s…”

Was it her imagination, or did something like a blue flame flicker to life for just an instant inside Zender’s glass eye? When she looked again, the glass eye was as empty of light as ever, smooth as glass, and she decided she must have been mistaken.

“The fact that you’ve come means Lord Luciel has given us an order. Has he finally made up his mind about something?”

As if nothing had happened, Zender’s gaze returned to Berchel. At his question, Berchel gave a nod and replied,

“Yes. It seems that after what he went through this time, he has decided to reclaim his rightful place.”

“That’s a relief, at least. We were beginning to think the Mihael Ducal line would come to an end with this generation.”

“Truly. I thought for certain we were going to die this time as well.”

“When a master shows no interest, it’s the hands and feet that suffer.”

“You really are the only one who understands how I feel, Zender.”

What is happening…? Lea watched with keen interest as the atmosphere shifted without warning into what amounted to an open grievance session about Luciel. Both of them seemed to have accumulated no small amount of frustration over his conduct up until now. As she listened to Berchel pouring out what appeared to be every grievance he had ever bottled up, worked into a fervor of relief at finally being able to say it all, while Zender kept the conversation going with terse but well-placed interjections, she was able to confirm at least one thing.

Hmm. The Luciel I know and the Luciel he apparently used to be seem to be two rather different people. At any rate, they’ve been going at this for quite a while now.

Just as she was beginning to grow tired of it, Zender — who had been patting Berchel on the shoulder in a commiserating sort of way — finally asked why they had come.

“So what order has Lord Luciel given? As you’ll know, whether or not we carry it out depends on what it is.”

Only then did Berchel remember why he had come and answered promptly,

“He has asked us to protect Madam Goth, our lord’s young aunt. From the circumstances, it seemed as though she may be in possession of something that could clear the false charges laid against our lord.”

“Madam Goth… well… indeed. Unless the false charges are cleared, Lord Luciel won’t be free to move about openly.”

“It isn’t only his freedom of movement at stake. That man had our lord imprisoned and fed him a vile aphrodisiac.”

“…An aphrodisiac?!”

In an instant, a ferocious killing intent surged from Zender’s entire body. How dare a half-blood do such a thing to the legitimate heir.

“Berchel. Tell Lord Luciel to change the order. The fact that he fed such a drug to the legitimate heir alone is more than sufficient grounds to kill the man.”

Looking at Zender’s expression, which made it seem as though he might go and kill Cheor that very moment, Berchel found himself nodding along with sudden, heartfelt agreement. Truthfully, he felt the same way. But his lord did not want things done that way.

“Regrettably, our lord wishes to see that man dealt with through proper procedure. Someday, there will come a day when he is made to pay for every crime he has committed.”

“…That is the kind of person Lord Luciel is. Reason before emotion, always. Very well. From now on, we will search for Madam Goth and take her under our protection.”

Zender had just given his clear and unhesitating agreement when his body suddenly went rigid. At the same moment, Lea’s eyes sharpened.

Killing intent?!

Sensing an overwhelming killing intent from outside the tavern, Zender leapt to his feet, while Lea moved swiftly to the window. She looked out to see what was happening below — and her eyes went wide.

Ian!

Without a moment’s hesitation, Lea threw the window open, lightly jumped up, and stepped onto the windowsill.

“Lady Lea!!”

She heard Berchel’s startled cry, but her figure had already vanished beyond the window. All that remained was the wide-open window and the curtain billowing in the breeze.