GBYR - Chapter 71



Leticia Blackwell was in a state of extreme sensitivity. She bit and chewed her fingernails so hard that even the best polish she had applied with rose-colored powder was useless. The sudden disappearance of the Emperor had been a shock, but there was another more disturbing problem.

She was in the Lady's Chamber of the Villa, but she was not alone. In the soft light of four candles, a man was quietly staring at the Duchess. Leticia stamped her foot impatiently and walked back to stand before the man.

“Find Angie Ridsdel. We need to find her faster than Kyle. If I have a feeling, she’s living under the alias Madame M. Here, take this lace with you and use it in your search.”

Leticia threw the lace tablecloth she had received from the Princess onto the table. No matter how she looked at it, it was exactly the same as Angie's from Cullinan Island.

“Madam. But...”

“It doesn’t matter. Your mission while you’re in Vintergar is to protect the Duke’s Department, especially me. So you have to do whatever I tell you to do for my safety!”

Leticia's face turned grim. She had just told Michael everything that had happened during the parade yesterday. He, too, seemed surprised. He tried to keep his composure, but Leticia did not miss the shock that flashed across his face.

“Your guards move secretly, just like their name, Shadow, so instead of guarding my surroundings, you should go outside and look for that woman. No matter how much Kyle ordered the villa to be closed, there must be a way for you to escape. Don’t you think?”

“...”

“What’s wrong? What are you hesitating for? You’re already married, so why do you still have any regrets?”

“No. That’s not it...”

"Lie!"

Ouch, her one hand cut through the air fiercely. The fingertips that had hit his cheek were trembling slightly. Michael lowered his gaze like a criminal and straightened his leaning body. The area where he had been hit was red and bruised.

“You liked that girl, don’t you remember? Three years ago in the chapel, when I was beating that bitch, you stood in my way and covered her up. Like it was something. But what Louis saw was true. I don’t know why she changed her story then, but Angie Ridsdel was whoring the man who would become my fiancé, my husband, every night!”

“...”

“If you still have any feelings for Angie, and you don’t want her to get hurt, you’d better find her before my husband.”

“If you don’t mean to harm her... what are you going to do?”

“It’s obvious. Since Kyle found out that she was hiding here, we need to make her go far away. We’ll even give her enough money to move somewhere other than the Citadel. I’d appreciate it if she could move to Vicentin or Azerbaijan, or even further away if possible.”

Lies. Michael didn't believe her words. He kept his eyes on his feet and said nothing. But in the end, he had no choice but to tell the Duchess what she wanted.

“I will do as you instruct.”

“It would be difficult to move alone, right? I’ll send you a confidant, so wait at your residence.”

After Michael had left, someone entered the chamber a while later. The man was dressed as a cavalryman of the Trieste delegation. He was one of the confidants of his uncle, Baron Samuel Dervan, who had served from her maternal home, the Dervan family. He was also an excellent assassin.

“Franz.”

“Did you call, Ma’am?”

“Listen carefully. Michael Randle will be searching for a woman instead of escorting me for the next fortnight before we return to Trieste. You will join him in the search and help him. And...”

Leticia's words trembled faintly. No matter how vicious she was, this was her first time ordering someone's assassination, and her throat was choked with nervousness.

“As soon as Michael finds that woman, kill her. And Michael too.”

The cavalryman looked up in surprise but eventually gave in to the order.

“Understood, Ma’am.”

Leticia took a small sapphire out of her jewel box and held it out to him. Although small in size, it was worth several years’ salary for a cavalryman. The man knew this fact.

“Oh, thank you, Ma’am!”

“When you come back, I’ll give you something bigger. You have to succeed.”

“Yes, I will definitely complete it.”

Franz put the jewels in his bosom, bowed his head several times, and left the room. With light steps, he turned down the hallway and disappeared across the hall.

Beyond the pillar on the other side of the chamber, the hem of the robe fluttered. The man, who had been watching Franz’s back from behind the pillar, also quietly left the place.

***

The Emperor trembled like a poplar. The smell of rotten wood mixed with pine odor wafted through the tightly wrapped cloth from his philtrum to his chin. In the darkness, a pitch-black shadow was approaching him, step by step.

“Huh... Heuheu... Aaaah... Woof...”

Please spare my life. I will grant you anything you ask. I will do anything you tell me to do! Please just spare my life. Isn't that what I am begging you to do?

But all that could be heard from deep in his throat were incomprehensible groans and sobs. Rainier VIII shook his head vigorously, blinking his eyes, wet with tears and sweat.

He still didn't understand what had happened to him. Even though he was the Emperor of a country in a declining empire, what kind of person would dare to kidnap him, tie him up in a warehouse-like this, and leave him there for days?

His consciousness was becoming increasingly blurred. He couldn’t even guess how many days had passed. It was as if it had been yesterday when a strange man suddenly barged into his bedroom in the Vintergar Palace and pressed a cloth soaked in sleeping pills into his mouth. However, it still didn’t feel like it had happened to him. It felt like he was in a really bad nightmare.

“Ugh, ugh! Huh...”

A loud roar burst from the Emperor's gagged mouth. His trembling pupils caught the blade. A man, who had come up to him, was holding a terrifyingly sharp dagger in one hand.

“Ahh, ahhh... Ugh...”

Rainier VIII squeezed his eyes shut. Tears flowed uncontrollably down his cheeks. He instinctively smelled death. A miserable corpse loomed before his eyes. It was none other than his own dead body.

“Goodbye, Emperor.”

With those words, the hooded villain raised the hand holding the dagger. He swung it sharply and without any unnecessary gestures. He did not even give the Emperor a chance to repent to God and appeal for the afterlife.

His heart was pierced and blood gushed out. His body, with its limbs tied, slowly tilted to the floor and collapsed. The Emperor of Trieste met a miserable end in a dilapidated warehouse in an abandoned foreign country, with sawdust as his grave.

The executioner pulled the dagger out of his chest and stuffed the pen into his pocket, inside the sagging body.

At that moment, a presence was felt outside. A pitch-black shadow quickly left the place through the secret door of the warehouse. If everything had gone according to plan, he would have disposed of the body, but he didn’t have time to do so.

The hooded assassin stood behind the old tree from a distance, watching the people wandering in front of the warehouse. Someone was trying to open the door, but eventually gave up and went back the way they came. The man went back into the warehouse and was about to dispose of the body, but eventually changed his mind.

If they heard a strange noise in the warehouse, they could have called the manager or the police. If he made a mistake, he could have been caught by a hair's breadth. The assassin leisurely turned around. The body would be found today at the earliest, or within two or three days at the latest. And the item in the Emperor's arms as well.

Although the evidence is extremely flimsy, it will serve as a pretext to push for the suspect. So the Grand Duke probably didn't think it was necessary to put so much effort into the evidence.

***

As the sun sets, the makeshift teahouses surrounding the train station waiting room become a bustling market. Ordinary travelers either go to their destinations immediately upon arrival or sit in the waiting room to wait for their trains.

However, those who made a living by dealing with those travelers or who ran businesses centered around the train station would usually finish their day’s work at a makeshift teahouse. It was a space used as a kind of meeting place. The customers, including coachmen, station staff, freight carriers, and even dock workers from the port and warehouse workers, would enjoy a drink or a cup of tea and a light dinner with their colleagues, enjoying simple pleasures.

“Come to think of it, I picked up a strange passenger at Lubeck Central Station a week ago. Two young ladies and a man. At first, they asked me to take them to Lorsha, but after discussing something among themselves, they changed their words and asked me to take them to Revan.”

The coachman from Lubeck, about two hours away by train, continued his speech with a gruff tone. Sitting opposite him were two middle-aged men who appeared to be his fellow coachmen.

“One of the ladies had her face hidden by a hat veil, but at a glance, she seemed elegant and refined, like a noble lady deliberately dressed seemingly. The other women and men were the young lady’s attendants.”

“What’s so strange about that? I also often burn noble women.”

“If you go to a resort city, that would be understandable, but aren’t both Revan and Lorsha really rural? Roads are being built here and there and development is in full swing, but aren’t they the least developed outlying areas in Vintergar? That’s why you must have been itching your lips and even your gums to ask questions. Why are you going all the way to that remote place when you are so noble?”

“Anyway, I’m curious. Then why don’t you ask?”

“The atmosphere was so solemn that I couldn’t do that. It was so special to go to a remote countryside at dawn that I remember it for a long time.”

“I guess there’s a story. It’s not like it’s anything special.”

“The truth is...”

The coachman lowered his voice as he put down the glass he had been gulping down. Before doing so, he did not forget to glance around to check the mood.


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