Chapter 77
Evelia’s thoughts drifted toward memories worn thin by time. She had been found abandoned on Evelia Island in the south.
There was no orphanage on the island, so she had been sent to the nearest one, the Lockwood Orphanage, where she was given the name Evelia.
The orphanage was practically a wild frontier. Going hungry was commonplace. The weak were exploited. Whatever they had was taken from them.
She survived by relying on the one thing she was good at. Even though she had been among the youngest children there, Evelia had never lost a fight. Then, in the year she turned sixteen, she left the orphanage and joined a mercenary company.
That was how she’d spent nearly six years making a living by killing people, only to end up a wanted fugitive for it. But these days, she was splitting fish heads instead of human skulls…
Just then, the telegraph receiver on the battered table crackled to life.
Evelia threw back the blanket and climbed out of bed.
The receiver sounded again. She checked the transmission code. A familiar name appeared.
Ivan.
“That bastard… So he was alive after all.”
Muttering under her breath, Evelia pulled out a chair and sat down. It didn’t take long to decipher the message. Ivan’s cipher wasn’t nearly as clever as he liked to believe.
As she headed downstairs toward the inn’s front desk to take the call, her heart beat a little faster. At last. She was finally about to do what she was actually good at.
I’d better not turn this one down. As long as it doesn’t put me directly in the Union Police’s sights, I’ll take it.
“Miss Lock, telephone.”
The innkeeper, who knew her only by the alias Belle Lock, jerked his chin toward the telephone.
Evelia answered with a silent nod and picked up the receiver without hesitation.
Ivan’s smooth, friendly voice greeted her.
— ’Belle Lock’ is it?
“Yeah. Get to the point.”
— Glad to hear you’re doing well, Belle. It’s good to know you’re still alive. Still got both your eyes? All your fingers?
“I’m perfectly fine, so quit wasting my time. Where do I need to go?”
Perhaps it was the impatience in her voice. Ivan let out a brief laugh. Evelia’s expression didn’t change.
— Lakeland.
Of all places, Lakeland.
Lakeland was the heart of the Old Continent. Although it still retained a royal family and hereditary nobility, it functioned as a parliamentary republic. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that Lakeland also housed the headquarters of the International Union Police.
So much for getting her hopes up.
“Oh, so you want me dead.”
— Unfortunately, no. Just hear me out. This job could even get your warrant revoked.
‘Revoked?’
Evelia’s hand froze around the receiver. Ivan was a crafty bastard who knew exactly how to read her silences. He didn’t rush to fill the pause. Instead, he simply waited for her to speak first.
After casting a quick glance toward the innkeeper, Evelia lowered her voice.
“…Go on.”
— It comes with a completely new identity. The Union Police warrant will be revoked. Your records erased. Every step of establishing your new identity will be taken care of. All you have to do is eliminate the target.
Evelia fell silent.
The offer was absurd. A client capable of promising terms like that could only be someone with enormous influence. The Speaker who controlled the Lakeland Parliament, perhaps, or the dictator of the Osmund Union…
There was one more thing. If someone that powerful was resorting to assassination, then the target couldn’t possibly be ordinary.
She swallowed.
“Who’s the person of interest?”
‘Person of interest.‘ That was the word they used for a target. Ivan answered without the slightest hesitation.
“A nobleman from Lakeland. One of the old houses. I hear they’re deeply tied to the royal family. The Duke of Brumfield.”
The Duke of Brumfield.
Evelia silently rolled the name over in her mind.
It was unquestionably an unfamiliar name. She had never heard it before. And yet, for some reason, the name caught strangely on the tip of her tongue.
It was like trying to force yourself to remember a word you’d forgotten long ago — a peculiar sensation, like the name refused to settle inside her mouth.
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