Home/I confined you, but I have no ill will/ch 18

18.

There wasn't much time left until the Emperor's birthday—only about a week. If he thought of it as repaying the favor he owed Baron Frillie, staying here for that duration didn't seem so bad.

Still, I should probably contact Seren.

Seren's loyalty ran deep; he would do anything to find Kite.

He'll mobilize the Capital Guard first, no doubt.

Of course, he wouldn't be able to keep them for long—the Guard would be far too busy with the approaching Emperor's birthday, receiving foreign guests and managing security.

Once the Guard was no longer available, Seren would think of the next step. Perhaps he would try to pull in the military. Despite looking like the most proper and exemplary of students, he was the type to occasionally do things others couldn't even imagine.

Knock, knock.

Just then, a knock came at the door. A pleasant aroma accompanied it—Ibelin had apparently brought a meal.

"Come in."

Ibelin entered with a triumphant expression, pushing a tray laden with food.

"Today I made a veal stew. I used good wine, so it should be delicious. I also made a salad with potatoes and pumpkin, and bought bread from a shop that was quite good."

She pushed the tray toward Kite.

"Can't you just bring it to me yourself now?"

"Excuse me?"

Ibelin gave him a look as if she had heard something absurd.

"Are you asking me, a frail and ordinary person, to come close to a Swordmaster?"

Frail and ordinary? Ibelin was hiding a weapon beneath her clothes—probably the gun he had glimpsed before. Guns used by nobles had undergone considerable development, but they were still difficult to handle. The fact that she carried it with her at all times meant she knew how to use it to some extent.

Given Baron Frillie's character, she likely had skills that could rival a professional's. Yet she played the innocent fool—it was exasperating.

Kite narrowed his eyes at Ibelin, then turned his gaze to the food.

He first tasted the veal, which had been braised in wine. She had clearly put in effort—it was fairly good—but it vaguely reminded him of the military camp. On days when army provisions were scarce, they would set traps, catch small game, and roast or steam it.

That's exactly the taste.

Ibelin watched him eat and cautiously asked.

"How is it?"

"Edible. But you don't seem to have a talent for cooking—it tastes like army rations."

Ibelin blinked for a moment, then looked incredulous.

"I've never even been in the army!"

"The cooking—you learned it from Baron Frillie, didn't you?"

"...The meat dishes, yes."

She had originally intended to follow the recipe the butcher had given her, but there were some unfamiliar ingredients. So she substituted them with what she knew—and ended up with her grandfather's flavor.

"You should learn again."

"You said it was edible."

"That doesn't mean it's delicious."

Still, Kite emptied the entire dish. Swordsmen, after all, moved their bodies a great deal and had hearty appetites. Until now, he had only eaten sparingly, suspicious of what might be in the food—but now that was no longer the case.

"More importantly—"

Kite wiped his mouth with a napkin.

"I need to send word outside."

"Excuse me? To whom?"

"To my vice-commander, Seren."

"Ah, that person."

The one who was currently tearing the capital apart in a frenzy to find Kite.

When the Guard had been conducting checks on everyone without discrimination, Ibelin had felt chills down her spine. The number of guards searching for Kite had decreased considerably now, but she still couldn't let her guard down.

"...Do we really need to contact him?"

"If I don't, he'll mobilize the military too."

"Even during the Emperor's birthday?"

"Sometimes."

She had thought Seren was the most normal of the lot—but birds of a feather flock together. After a moment's hesitation, Ibelin nodded.

"If you write down the message, I'll deliver it."

"How will you deliver it?"

"Just—somehow."

Kite was curious about her method, but she didn't clarify.

"Fine. Give me a pen and paper."

On the white paper, a short sentence and a signature were written. Taking the paper, Ibelin subtly pulled the tray away.

"By the way, when are you going to entertain me?"

"You just had a good meal."

"It wasn't good enough to improve my mood."

"Then shall I bring you a book?"

"What, another red book?"

"No, no! That was a mistake! I didn't know either!"

Ibelin waved her hands in a panic.

"If you tell me what books you like, I'll find them."

"Then bring me Olga's Theory on the Correlation Between Defensive Magic Arrays and Sword Energy."

"That's a hard-to-find book, isn't it?"

Kite answered with a smile.

What a spiteful man. She was doing all this to save him, and yet every single thing he did was infuriating.

Ibelin backed out of the room and slammed the door shut. It was a bit forceful, but he wouldn't complain about that, would he?

"Now, how do I deliver this note?"

Ibelin looked at the note in her hand and sighed. Repaying a favor was truly never easy.

---

Seren's normally neat hair was roughly tied back. Dark circles under his eyes betrayed several sleepless nights.

He had mobilized people to search every corner of the capital—but still hadn't found a trace of Kite. His kidnapper was no ordinary person. As Seren pored over the capital map, a teacup was placed beside him.

"Seren, wouldn't it be better to rest a little?"

It was Alex.

"Now is not the time for rest."

"But aimlessly searching won't solve anything. You haven't slept properly in days."

"I'm fine with this."

Even if he wasn't a Swordmaster, Seren was still a knight who had surpassed a certain level. Though tired, he judged that rest was unnecessary.

"See? What did I tell you? Seren won't change his mind."

Lucen, standing by the door, said that with a sneer.

"You always—!"

As Alex scolded Lucen, a sharp sound suddenly rang out.

Whizz!

Seren sprang to his feet, Alex drew his sword from its sheath and ran outside, and Lucen spotted an arrow embedded in the wall right beside him.

"Huh?"

He didn't know what material the arrow was made of, but it had pierced through the window and into the wall.

"There's paper tied to the arrow."

"Let me see."

Lucen pulled the arrow from the wall and handed it to Seren. Unfolding the paper tied to the shaft, he saw familiar handwriting.

[I am safe. Stay quiet. — Kite]

Seren immediately recognized it as Kite's hand.

"Lord Kite?"

While Seren carefully compared the handwriting, Alex, who had rushed outside, returned shortly.

"I couldn't catch the archer. They fired and fled immediately."

"You lost them?"

"It was shot from quite a distance, and they vanished like a ghost—I couldn't keep up."

Seren rubbed his furrowed brow. He knew all of Kite's connections—and none of them had such skills. This level of stealth and precision was that of a top-class assassin.

"I don't understand."

"Is it not Lord Kite's handwriting?"

"No, it is. But I don't understand the situation."

The Emperor's birthday—a time when people from outside the Empire, as well as within, flocked to the capital. And it seemed something was about to happen in that chaos.

Others dismissed Kite as merely a mad dog, but in truth, he was a man of depth. He only played the fool and villain so as not to burden his nephew, the Emperor.

If such a man was going into hiding, it was surely a sign that something major was about to occur.

"It seems we need to prepare ourselves thoroughly as well."

Seren said that, looking down at the paper once more.

Back   Next