Suspicion

Arthur wanted to stay low, but there was no way to hide his identity.

At teleportation gates—especially the ones that connected two nations—strict checks were unavoidable. Covering your face was out of the question.

"You have permission to enter Durnhalm?" the portal officer asked with a frown, glancing over the letter in his hand. It was an official document from the Duke himself, granting Arthur passage under the excuse of handling some trade matters.

According to the letter, he was supposed to study the market value of certain goods that would soon be sold across the border.

It sounded like simple work—but sending a child for it? Naturally, it raised doubts.

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "Not everything can be written in a formal letter."

The officer blinked.

Then, his brows twitched as the meaning sank in.

"...Oh."

Without another word, he handed the letter back and turned to his assistant. "Prepare the portal."