Chapter 127: A Ploy
“Let me see,” Aracila said, taking the paper from Damian and unfolding it.
The sketches revealed two men with neat, unremarkable features—black or brown hair, matching eyes, the kind of faces you’d see anywhere yet still carried a certain polished air.
She studied them closely, a flicker of recognition mingling with uncertainty.
“They look vaguely familiar… or maybe it’s just because they seem so ordinary?” she mused.
“I suspect they’re active knights,” Damian said.
“Why’s that?”
“When I spoke with the priest, he described their stiff speech and demeanor—distinctly knight-like.”
People often recognized their own kind, and knights, with their heightened instincts, were especially attuned.
Even someone like the retired Count Joachim, decades removed from his days as a knight, still carried the unmistakable habits of his past, betraying his sword-wielding history without need for questions. The men who’d threatened Taylor likely bore the same telltale traits, suggesting they were currently serving as knights.
“So, I plan to start by looking into the knights,” Damian continued. “This is my area of expertise… will you leave it to me?”
He asked cautiously, recalling Aracila’s earlier admonition not to take on everything alone.
She nodded readily but added with a firm tone: “Alright, but if you need help, you have to tell me. Got it?”
“Yes, understood,” Damian replied, a faint smile crossing his lips. Her trust, laced with concern, warmed him.
Later, Aracila informed Frederick that she and Damian would attend the party together.
Despite his earlier request to be notified promptly, Frederick’s response was oddly muted.
She didn’t dwell on it, assuming he was busy with preparations for the imperial event. With the invitation already in hand, it wasn’t a pressing issue.
Instead, she focused on crafting a lantern for Princess Gloria, who was said to love stars and the moon.
Aracila designed a larger, rounded glass lantern, embedding it with glowing stones intricately carved into the shapes of a full moon and scattered stars—a miniature night sky captured within.
It demanded more technical precision and focus than any lantern she’d made before, taking considerable time to complete.
“Phew, it’s finally done,” Sally said, placing the finished lantern in a plain brown box and setting it on a shelf. “We just need to wrap it nicely tomorrow.”
“Great work, both of you,” Aracila said. “Let’s call it a day.”
“You worked hard too, Senior!” Sally replied.
“We’ll clean up here, so you go ahead,” Rudy added with a polite bow.
Aracila gave each of their shoulders a pat and left the lab. After tidying up, Sally and Rudy stepped outside, ready to head home. As Sally locked the door, a voice called out.
“Hey, Sally, Rudy! Heading home already?”
It was Sherman, a fellow mage of their cohort, waving enthusiastically. Beside him was Billy, who worked under Travis. Rudy glanced at them warily, stepping forward as if to shield Sally. Billy and Sally often clashed verbally, and encounters with him rarely ended well.
“We’re tired. Don’t start anything—just go,” Rudy said curtly.
“Man, why you gotta be so cold?” Sherman pouted, responding on Billy’s behalf, who stood quietly, gauging the situation. “No love for your old pals?”
Rudy’s exhaustion deepened. Sherman was the type who, at best, was overly sociable; at worst, his constant whining grated on everyone’s nerves. As the self-appointed leader of their cohort’s gatherings, he could be a real nuisance if you got tangled up with him.
“Didn’t you know we’re having a cohort dinner tonight?” Sherman went on, oblivious to their reluctance. “You busy, high-flying folks probably forgot, huh? That’s harsh!”
Exactly as expected.
Since starting the magic lantern business, Sally and Rudy had been swamped with late nights, making the prospect of a forced social event feel like a chore. They just wanted to go home and rest, but Sherman’s insistence dashed that hope.
“So, Billy and I came to drag you along,” Sherman said, grinning. “Let’s go!”
“Can’t we skip this one? I’m beat,” Rudy said, edging backward, trying to slip away.
But Sherman slung an arm around his shoulders, thwarting his escape. “Come on, don’t be like that! Are you guys too good for us now, hanging out with your fancy senior? Think we’re beneath you or something?”
“When did we ever say that?” Sally snapped, indignant.
Sherman threw an arm around her too, undeterred. “Then come with us! You’re so hard to catch these days—there’s a whole crowd waiting to see you. Come on!”
To be precise, a slew of wizards were desperate to curry favor with Aracila, but Sherman dressed it up in kinder terms. “Don’t forget the love for your cohort! Tower Masters come and go, but your peers are forever!”
“Ugh… fine, we’ll go. Happy now?” Sally said, shooting Rudy a look that said, Let’s just get this over with before it gets worse. Rudy sighed silently and nodded.
Sherman, thrilled, practically dragged them toward the tavern where the gathering was set. Trailing a step behind, Billy fixed his gaze on Sally as she tucked the lab key into her bag. Travis’s words echoed relentlessly in his mind: “Get Aracila’s lab key, no matter what. If I go down, you’re done too. Think of it as saving us all.”
Steeling himself, Billy resolved to act. It felt underhanded, but wasn’t that just how the world worked?
They arrived at the bustling tavern. While Sally stepped away to the restroom, Billy, glancing around to ensure no one was watching, slipped his hand into her bag. His heart pounded as his fingers brushed the cold, hard key. Steadying himself, he pocketed it and quickly slipped out, feigning drunkenness.
He made a beeline for Travis. “S-Senior! I got the key,” he said, presenting it.
“Well done, Billy,” Travis said, his voice low. “You’ve saved our lab.”
After swearing Billy to secrecy and sending him off, Travis stood before Aracila’s lab door, sweat beading on his brow despite the cool, dark corridor. The click of the lock echoed unnaturally loud in the silence as he opened the door. Moving his lantern back and forth, he searched the room.
She made a lantern for the princess’s birthday, didn’t she? he thought. Word traveled fast—despite having no close ties with Aracila, Travis had picked up on her movements through others’ chatter.
Scouring every corner from ceiling to floor, he spotted a box on a shelf. Inside was a lantern, unmistakably exquisite, crafted with evident care. It was just as rumored: a glowing masterpiece with moon and star motifs.
This is it.
A sly grin curled Travis’s lips. He carefully lifted the lantern and pulled a small packet of white powder from his pocket. With meticulous precision, he dusted the powder onto the glowing stones and sprinkled it into the lantern’s crevices. The powder dissolved instantly, leaving no trace.
Satisfied, Travis left the lab with a spring in his step, eagerly awaiting the princess’s birthday.
***
Princess Gloria loved yellow, so naturally, the dress code for her birthday party was yellow. Aracila prepared a headpiece adorned with yellow roses, while Damian chose a yellow cravat. The finished lantern, carefully packaged, was brought home. All that remained was attending the party—but a problem arose the day before.
The Count of Joachim’s estate sent word of an unexpected issue with the supply of glowing stones.
“I’m sorry, my lady,” Damian said. “You’ll have to attend the party alone. I need to visit the count’s estate to sort this out.”
The princess’s birthday was significant, but with magic lanterns selling rapidly, any disruption in the supply chain could spell trouble. If the stones were truly unavailable, they’d need to find another supplier immediately to keep production on track. Fortunately, the imperial family would likely overlook one spouse’s absence in such circumstances.
Aracila sent a last-minute letter to Frederick about Damian’s absence, and he responded graciously, assuring her he’d smooth things over and urging her to focus on the issue at hand.
“I’m really sorry for sending you alone,” Damian said again.
“Stop apologizing,” Aracila replied. “If it weren’t the princess’s birthday, I’d be going with you. This is our business, after all.”
In truth, it was a shared venture, yet Damian was the one trekking north to handle the crisis. Aracila felt a pang of guilt. As she looked at him with an apologetic expression, Damian hesitated before speaking.
“May I ask one favor?”
“What is it?” she asked.
“At the party… please don’t get too close with His Highness the Crown Prince.”
The unexpected request made Aracila’s eyes widen. Meeting his clear, steady gaze, she saw a flicker of embarrassment in Damian’s expression, but he didn’t look away, even as a sheepish cough escaped him.
Chapter 128: A Delicate Dance
Tension tightened Damian’s fist, braced for rejection or a sharp rebuke.
“Why?” Aracila asked, her tone curious but gentle.
“I’d feel uneasy if you were too close to him while I’m not there,” Damian admitted. The words made him feel petty, like a narrow-minded man, but he couldn’t help it. They were his honest feelings. Rather than tossing and turning in the Count’s estate, plagued by jealous imaginings and sleepless nights, he wanted to secure some peace of mind, even if it meant resorting to such a shameless request.
Aracila gazed at him, his earnest expression clinging to her response like a lifeline, and a strange sensation stirred within her. He’s acting like a devoted husband, anxious about leaving his wife alone. Was it merely her imagination, or did she glimpse genuine affection in those golden eyes that kept stealing glances at her?
“Please,” Damian said, his voice heavy with emotion.
“…Alright,” Aracila replied, nodding almost instinctively. Something in his desperate gaze made it hard to turn away.
“Anyway, I wasn’t planning to stick close to Frederick,” she added, as if to reassure him.
“Really?” Damian’s face lit up, as if the sun itself had chosen to shine solely on him. The sudden brightness in his expression brought a subtle smile to Aracila’s lips.
The next morning, Damian departed for the northern estate, while Aracila prepared for the party. She wore a sky-blue dress with delicate chiffon sleeves, her hair neatly combed and left cascading down her back. The yellow rose headpiece added a vibrant touch, enhancing her radiant appearance.
Arriving at the imperial palace just in time, she found a long line of carriages waiting to deliver guests to Princess Gloria’s birthday celebration. When she finally stepped out at the entrance, an unexpected figure awaited her.
“What are you doing here?” Aracila asked, spotting Frederick standing by the entrance with a grin. Her tone was laced with surprise.
Dressed in a light-colored formal suit that complemented his striking features, Frederick extended a hand. “I was waiting to go in with you.”
“With me? Why? You should go with your partner,” she said, puzzled.
“I don’t have a partner, Aracila. Not besides you,” he replied, his voice carrying a charming smile.
Aracila’s brow furrowed slightly, her confusion evident. “What are you talking about? If you don’t have one, go in alone. Why drag me into this?”
“You don’t have a partner either, with Sir Damian absent,” Frederick countered smoothly. “Let’s go in together. Two’s better than one, right?”
He spoke with an air of innocence, but Aracila remained unconvinced.
What could an unmarried crown prince possibly gain by entering with a married woman?
They weren’t bound by blood, and even as friends, such an action risked causing unnecessary trouble. Firmly, she declined.
“Sorry, but I’m going in alone. If you don’t want to, find another partner. Someone like you wouldn’t have trouble finding a willing one.”
While it was customary to attend imperial parties with a partner, there were surely others like Aracila, attending solo due to personal circumstances.
Among them, any unmarried noblewoman would leap at the chance to be Frederick’s partner.
Yet, instead of heeding her advice, he posed a different question.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
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