Chapter 34
Reynard whistled, a light, airy sound. “Now then…”
The large, black mass circling above swooped down toward us. The wind from the great bird’s wings ruffled my hair as it approached.
Reynard shrugged out of his shirt, wrapped it around his arm, and extended it skyward. The sudden display of his bare chest prompted gasps of “Goodness me!” from nearby women, their hands flying up to cover their faces—though somehow, their fingers never quite managed to obscure their eyes.
The black eagle landed on Reynard’s arm with practiced ease. True to their name, the Black Eagle Mercenary Company used trained eagles as messengers.
It was a secret that Reynard was their leader, so I’d only seen the eagle a handful of times. Such a conspicuous bird wasn’t exactly ideal for covert operations.
With his breathtakingly sculpted torso bared and the eagle perched on one arm, Reynard looked every bit the mythical hero. The scars that marked his body seemed less like blemishes and more like badges of honor, testaments to a life lived on the edge.
After calmly soothing the bird and removing the small canister attached to its leg, Reynard unfurled the tightly rolled piece of paper inside.
‘I wonder if this is about the mercenaries being so busy lately? If so, I should probably take my leave.’
As I was thinking this, Reynard’s brow suddenly furrowed as he read the message.
Crunch. The way he crumpled the oiled paper was so chilling, I instinctively took a step back.
“Ha. Interesting.” His voice, however, held no trace of amusement. Reynard’s gaze snapped to me, his eyes raking over me from head to toe like a predatory cat deciding whether or not to devour the sardine before it.
“What do you think, Adelina?”
“Wh-What?”
‘Bad news, I presume? That scowl suggests it’s nothing trivial.’
As I nervously awaited his next words, Reynard dismissed the eagle with a flick of his wrist and strode towards me. Looming over me, he muttered in a low growl, “Promises be damned. I should just grab this and run.”
It was abundantly clear that the “this” he intended to grab and run with was me. The sheer intensity radiating from him was so overwhelming, I could only shrink back and stare at the rise and fall of his chest.
***
Seikan stared at the beautiful woman across from him, his tea growing cold and untouched. With honey-blonde hair and matching golden eyes, the stunning woman smiled brightly as she addressed the knight kneeling before her.
“I see. You’ve done your best, but the trail has gone cold.”
“…My deepest apologies, Your Highness. I beg your… forgiveness…”
“What can be done if they cannot be found? You may rise.”
“P-Pardon? Then… I am forgiven?”
The knight, looking up with relief, was remarkably young. His face, still bearing the fresh-faced innocence of someone recently knighted, was a mixture of nervousness, hope, and undisguised admiration for the beautiful princess.
“Well, I have important matters to discuss with Count Seikan Perdian. Perhaps you would excuse us?”
“O-Of course! My apologies. Please, continue your conversation. I’ll take my leave, Your Highness. And Count Perdian.”
The young knight bowed to Hestia and then Seikan before exiting the drawing-room. As soon as he was gone, Hestia’s smile vanished. She nodded curtly to her Chamberlain.
“Dispose of him.”
“P-Pardon? Ah… Yes. Understood.”
The Chamberlain, momentarily taken aback by Hestia’s cold command, quickly bowed in acquiescence. With both the knight and the Chamberlain gone, silence descended upon the room. Hestia, as if she hadn’t just issued a chilling order, picked up her teacup with an air of elegant composure.
“Wasn’t that… a bit harsh?” Seikan ventured, the hopeful expression on the young knight’s face lingering in his mind. Hestia’s lips curved into a chilling smile as she lowered her cup.
“Do you think so? To quell the betrayal and fury I feel, dismissing him is far too lenient. I’d rather see his head on a pike.”
“Your Highness.”
“Count Seikan Perdian. No, Duke Seikan Perdian.”
Clink. Hestia placed her barely-touched teacup back on the saucer. “Still playing the role of the gracious nobleman. You know full well that someone must get their hands dirty to maintain that pristine image of yours, yet you turn a blind eye.”
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