9

"Alright, then."

"...."

As she walked toward the mansion, Ayla said that.

For a moment, I was lost in thought and didn't respond, but Ayla continued speaking.

"How can I trust your loyalty—wait. What are you doing right now?"

"If it's to swear my loyalty, I can strip off my clothes, kneel, and even kiss Ayla-nim's feet."

"What kind of imagination is that? That's not just perverted, it's beyond anything!"

"Ayla-nim, I thought you had that kind of… tendency."

"What kind of tendency is that!?"

"There's no need to be embarrassed, Ayla-nim. You did ask me to take off my clothes."

"I told you to take off your clothes! I didn't say to kneel or lick my feet!"

"Ayla-nim, I said I could kiss your feet, not lick them. But still, it'd be better to do so after washing my body first…."

"Stop talking nonsense!"

At some point, Ayla stopped in her tracks and was fuming.

When we were kids, Ayla seemed a bit more mature than this.

Hmm, no, wait. Back then, I was a boy. I wouldn't have dared to say such things openly. Moreover, there was a clear status difference between us.

Of course, at the time, both Ayla and I were commoners. Being a bastard child, without a name in the family registry, didn't make one a noble. Recognition as a family member was an internal matter for the family, beyond even the royal authority.

That didn't mean there wasn't an invisible gap in social status.

I didn't know I was a bastard, but Ayla knew she was an illegitimate daughter. Those who protected Ayla knew it too. Even if not listed in the family registry, many families managed bastards this way for practicality and appearances.

In fact, Ayla, as the daughter of a baron, eventually married a count.

"But if Ayla-nim's tendencies are truly like that, I can accept—"

"Can you listen to me until the end!?"

Ayla's tone from long ago burst out of her mouth. It was a bit more whining and dissatisfied than back then.

Well, in our childhood, Ayla mostly acted mature in front of me, but she was still a child.

Back then, I was even younger than Ayla and found her childishness to be mature. In hindsight, it was just that.

"...Ahem."

Only after I shut my mouth did Ayla, seemingly embarrassed, clear her throat.

Blushing slightly, she said:

"What I meant to say was, 'I'm not sure how I can trust your loyalty,' not that you need to prove it. Even if you did, I still wouldn't trust you."

"You are wise, Ayla-nim."

I responded politely.

A truly well-trained assassin wouldn't stop at stripping off their clothes but might even go so far as to seduce their target.

Even Ayla, after all, had likely planned an escape despite consummating the marriage with the count.

She might not know when the chance would come, but waiting was something she could do for years, as long as her head stayed on her shoulders.

"I can't tell if you're joking or being serious."

"I'm completely serious."

At my response, Ayla let out a deep sigh.

"Let's head inside now. The young lady must have woken up by now."

"Yes, Ayla-nim."

I replied politely again.

Although I had grandly discussed a plan, there was little we could do for now.

We had no subordinates to command, nor any solid evidence to rely on.

Even if someone came to assist us, the moment I issued orders, all information would reach the Marquis.

Thus, we'd need someone from outside the Marquis' faction.

Shall I set some priorities?

First: The Empress.

This comes with considerable risk. Given her personality, she might listen to me openly, but as the 'Empress,' she might end up clashing with the royal family. Her bold nature is a double-edged sword.

Though a non-aggression pact is in place, and a full-blown war would be too costly, if she seeks gain from the Count, the Empress would 'boldly' take it.

More than anything, she is the 'Empress.' Meeting her would require traveling to the capital, convincing her of my identity, and so on.

For now, anyone with political ties should be set aside. Only in the worst-case scenario—when we consider seeking asylum in the Empire—should I think of her. Though first on the list, she's actually the lowest priority.

Second: The shadow of the royal capital.

A woman of mixed human-dwarf blood, two heads shorter than me. She leads the information guild and holds numerous noble secrets. If I want to know whether the Count died naturally or was assassinated, she'd be the most reliable source.

Since it's an information guild, she might've already heard the rumor of my death and even that I met the Forest Witch for something. Thus, even if I appear in this form, she might quickly understand the situation.

The issue is her fee—astronomical. She's a calculative woman, ensuring what comes in matches what goes out. Running a guild, it's understandable.

If not money, she'll demand valuable information. If I pay, she'll keep my visit and current situation confidential. But if I can't pay, she'll sell my information to someone willing to pay more than I did.

If she deems the deal unworthy, she won't proceed. For now, our financial means are limited.

Traveling to the capital to meet her also carries risks. While she's not as high-risk as the Empress, her priority is still low.

So, that leaves the Forest Witch.

Though she's an over-200-year-old sly elf, her age has made her compassionate.

She's mischievous and enjoys teasing people, but she's less calculating.

The problem is her impulsive nature. Thanks to that, I obtained the Orb of Destiny, but if she doesn't find my situation amusing, she might just laugh it off.

And if she does accept my plea for help—

…!

Beyond the crystal ball, a green-haired elf was clutching their stomach and rolling on the ground. If I hadn't muted the sound, the laughter would have been ear-splitting.

The elf, lying on the ground with their pointy hat tossed aside and a dusty, shabby robe, cared not for their appearance. There was no need for lip-reading magic; their words were just "Hahaha!"

After struggling to stop laughing, the elf finally sat up and looked at me through the crystal ball. They pressed their face so close to the surface that one eye was grotesquely magnified, making it look unsettling.

And then they started laughing again.

-That's right. Asking this elf for help… is incredibly infuriating.

No matter what I do, they treat me like a child and mock me. Then again, this former royal court magician treated even the 60-year-old king as a child. The Marquis, who was a little younger, also fared no better.

To this elf, I must be nothing but an infant.

"I told you, didn't I?! To be careful!"

Even though I couldn't hear the words, their expression was already loud enough.

"Did you already use up all the magical tools this old woman gave you? Hah, with a face like that wandering outside, of course every bandit would come running!"

"…I can handle myself well enough, thank you."

"Oh ho! You've finally fixed your tone! Look at this! A polite young lad at last! Is the world coming to an end?"

"Shut it, old hag," was at the tip of my tongue, but I held back.

I couldn't risk anyone overhearing me and raising suspicions.

The persona I play must always be that of a beautiful, intelligent, and highly competent maid—so perfect that the household would be in shambles without me.

That's the only way Ayla would have no choice but to entrust tasks to me.

In fact, I've been deliberately moving small objects around while cleaning. Every day, little by little, without anyone noticing. Just enough that when something important is needed, it won't be easy to find.

That way, they'll have to come to me.

"I need someone. Someone unconnected to the Marquis' house, who can bring news from the royal capital."

"You want one of this old woman's disciples, don't you?"

At least they understood me immediately.

"Fine," the forest witch said, laughing slyly.

"One of my foolish disciples caused this grand mess, so I'd be itching if I did nothing. Very well, I'll send someone soon. Shall I make sure the young lady doesn't find out?"

"…"

I paused to think, then shook my head.

"I've already mentioned hiring someone. One more won't raise any suspicion."

If I couldn't dispel doubts entirely, it was better to keep things simple.

Besides, none of the forest witch's disciples looked as sharp or intimidating as I did. They all had slightly vacant, harmless appearances—the kind the witch preferred.

Why she took me in, I still don't know. Perhaps she wanted a change of pace—a disciple who looked a bit more reliable.

Spending too much time talking to myself late at night was dangerous. Though Ayla and the young lady rarely wandered outside their rooms at night, it was still better to be cautious.

I also had night watch duties today.

I could manage for about a week like this, but after that? Who knew. I could only hope my brother's promised reinforcements would arrive soon.

The next day.

"…"

"…"

I froze as I stared at the cheerful young girl in front of me, who looked a little older than the young lady.

"And you are?"

Ayla, standing beside me, asked.

The girl, with her green hair braided into two pigtails and a red robe draped over her shoulders, held up a basket full of apples and smiled.

"Would you like to buy an apple?"

"…"

Should I kill her?

No, I can't. Even at my peak, killing the forest witch was impossible. On the battlefield, she was a calamity incarnate. If I didn't want the entire mansion obliterated, such an act was out of the question.

Then, should I stab her? Just once?

As I seriously considered this, the girl beamed again and said, "These apples are in season and absolutely delicious!"

It was the end of winter, with spring just beginning to bloom. There was no such thing as in-season apples right now.

Alright, I'll stab her. Twice.

She wouldn't feel a thing anyway, so it's fine. I'd feel better, she'd get the satisfaction of teasing me, and we'd both win.

Feeling Ayla's questioning gaze on me, I made up my mind.