Home/I confined you, but I have no ill will/ch 86

86.

The fragments on the floor vanished silently, and Ibelin found herself in a different place—a strange garden, overgrown with untended trees and thick shrubs. In the center stood a rusted metal table, once white, now neglected.

A familiar face sat in a chair beside it.

"You!"

She called out—he waved.

Unknown.

"Long time—how about some tea?"

"Can we drink anything here?"

Her prophetic visions came through dreams, where her actions were limited—eating or drinking wasn't possible.

"Maybe—this is a space I've interfered with."

He produced a teapot and poured tea, but she didn't approach—just watched him carefully.

"Poison?"

No—it was just the strange situation that made her wary. He'd visited her dreams before, but today felt different.

Unknown was believed to be with Teyrin, yet he'd never shown hostility toward her.

But today—

She sensed killing intent. Ah—he wants to hurt me now. Maybe kill me. It wasn't surprising; if she helped Kite, she'd eventually be targeted.

"Ibelin El Frillie."

She'd never hidden her surname, but his way of saying it felt ominous.

"Since we'll meet again, how about becoming friends?"

"I have no intention of that."

He grinned, but it wasn't a pure smile—darkness hid beneath it. Her heart sank. Her hand instinctively went to her thigh, where she usually hid weapons.

He ignored her, drinking his tea.

"Lady Ibelin—did you know?"

She didn't answer.

"Kailun El Frillie."

Her grandfather's name.

"He's alive."

She blinked slowly. Impossible— she'd been with him at the end, watching him close his eyes and stop breathing. The memory was still vivid.

But he's alive? She wanted to ask—then woke.

"Hah."

Gasping, she wiped her damp forehead. The dream was clear.

"...Grandfather."

Unknown had said he was alive. She covered her face, recalling his final days—then remembered the house in the capital.

What was in the basement?

After realizing the house's contents were unusual, she'd cataloged everything—weapons, magical items, medicine. None of it ordinary.

Wait!

There was a medicine:

[—Death-Faking Drug]

[Caution: Use only as directed. Do not take more than twice. Stops your heart for half a day.]

A death-faking drug.

"Why would you need that?"

There were other suspicious drugs—voice-changing, truth serums. Meeting Martin, she'd understood her grandfather's profession—but if he'd had them in the provinces...

Why fake death?

She respected and loved him. She'd believed everything he said, learned everything he taught. She hadn't known then, but now she did—her abilities were far beyond any other woman's. She was quite strong, having done well even in the North.

She'd sparred with Alex on the journey—he'd said he now understood why she and Kite were so close.

"Both of you are kindred."

"What's that mean?"

"You suit each other—how do you fight so well?"

It meant she could be his greatest ally. He'd trained her, so he knew her abilities. Yet he'd left her, faking death—she wanted to know why.

Had he faced a crisis too great to share? Or...

She sighed and got up, heading for the door. She couldn't solve this alone—the one who taught her was her grandfather. If he wanted to hide, she'd find nothing.

Prophecy might help, but maybe not. Kite might—he was a duke who could access Intelligence's files.

She could ask Martin, but she might not tell.

Hurrying to the door, she collided with Kite.

"Ah!"

She tried to stop, stumbled, and he caught her—both tumbled to the floor.

Thud!

He braced himself, but she headbutted him—hard enough to break the skin. That was fine.

The problem was the spot—they'd hit lips. Her face flushed as she touched her torn lip. His wasn't torn, but his expression wasn't calm either.

"I'm sorry!"

She cried out—romantic if not for her worry about her grandfather.

Kite seemed to sense her state.

"What happened?"

His calm voice steadied her.

"Something did."

He helped her up, sat her on the sofa, and quickly brought tea. Holding the warm cup eased her tension.

"So—what happened?"

"Grandfather."

"Grandfather?"

"He might be alive."

"...Didn't you hold his funeral?"

"Yes—I thought he was dead. But I just dreamed—"

She set down the cup.

"Unknown appeared."

His expression changed.

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