#29

Leonia’s lips jutted out like a duck’s bill as she entered the room. A thoroughly insolent attitude.

“Control that temper of yours. Don’t fly into a rage over every little thing.”

“I’m controlling it and living with it.”

“‘Controlling it’ doesn’t mean trying to wipe out an entire noble house.”

Since the subject had come up, Ferio decided to ask about the little incident Leonia had caused at the Academy.

“What happened, exactly?”

“That bastard had it coming.”

Leonia scowled.

“He kept bothering Flo, over and over again.”

“My daughter...”

Ferio let out a long sigh.

“The capital is the birthplace of new ways to commit suicide, you know.”

He was trying to reason with her calmly, saying that reacting to every little thing would only tire her out.

“...I know.”

It worked. Leonia answered in a surprisingly mild tone.

“So at first, I was only going to hit his face and leg.”

“If you’d stopped there, I wouldn’t be lecturing you now.”

“But how could I have known he was ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) into something that shady?”

Leonia replied with a tone just slightly smug, claiming it was all self-defense.

Regardless of the intent, she clearly looked pleased with herself for acting ahead of Ferio.

“I already knew.”

Ferio said he had been preparing the cleanup.

“You could’ve cleaned it up earlier then.”

“I was about to—but a certain someone got ahead of me and ruined it.”

Just as he’d secured intel and was preparing to sweep the Perdyx family, his daughter—stationed in the capital—had jumped in first.

“Hmph. So now you’re blaming me for being late.”

“If you won’t show remorse...”

Ferio clicked his tongue.

“Because of you, the remnants got away.”

“I’ll catch them myself.”

And settle my emotions while I’m at it.

As Leonia gave her half-hearted promise and turned to leave—

“While you’re at it, planning to catch your Boom-Boom too?”

Leonia stopped mid-step.

“...Since you bring it up.”

She tapped her lips with a finger.

She looked like she was mulling over something trivial, but in her black beast’s eyes, a thick and chilling emotion flickered.

“Can’t you build me a prison in my room?”

Ferio said nothing.

“Then at least a birdcage?”

“Now you know why I didn’t respond earlier.”

“Then is it okay to cut his tendons?”

“I never thought I’d see the day I worry about that boy.”

“So what if he can’t walk.”

She’d just give him a bit of a correction, and then care for him all her life.

“......”

Having overheard his daughter’s menacing murmurs, Ferio couldn’t hide his displeased expression.

‘I should’ve focused more on her conscience than her childhood.’

He regretted the toys he’d bought, the tea parties he’d attended—all because his daughter had seemed too mature for her age.

But what could he do?

It was far too late for regrets, and even if she was like this, she was still his child.

If he didn’t cover for her, who would?

“...Well.”

There was no helping it.

He was her father.

“Just don’t kill him.”

If, somehow, Leonia actually went through with kidnapping Scandia and severing his tendons, Ferio was willing to offer up three western mines in compensation.

Of course, if she killed him, he could still handle the aftermath—but that would be the end of her right to succession.

“I won’t kill him.”

Leonia grumbled.

“I’m a rational person.”

“That’s the funniest joke I’ve heard all year.”

“Dad, are you saying it’s funny that your daughter isn’t rational?”

“In a way.”

“You’re so annoying...”

***

Even late at night, the lights were still on in the conference room of the Western Hesperi Marquessate.

Centered around Marchioness Tigria Hesperi, the officials were discussing how to deal with the recent surge of bandit raids.

The vice-commander of the Revoo Knights reported the ongoing situation in detail, and as she listened, the Marchioness’ brow creased deeper and deeper.

“...Just as I thought.”

She finally spoke.

“These recent bandit attacks were connected to the Perdyx family.”

“It appears some of the bandits familiar with the forest teamed up with black market thugs.”

“They really tried everything, didn’t they.”

Her mocking sneer was sharp enough to cut.

Her sharply cropped hair, which she’d kept since inheriting her title, shook slightly with her irritated laugh.

The victims of the bandits were mostly small and mid-sized merchants, and they fell into two main categories:

Those transporting valuable goods like treasures—and those who weren’t.

The former had only their goods taken. The latter had people injured, sometimes seriously.

Lately, the latter had become more common.

The black market the Perdyx family had tried to nurture had collapsed, and the so-called “vagabonds” who clung to it had joined the bandits.

The real problem was these vagabonds.

Bandits were already a gathering of society’s dregs, and now things had gotten even worse.

“They’re not your average street thugs.”

The Marchioness said as she skimmed through the reports.

Knights left traces that knights do. Mages left mage-like signatures.

Even gangsters and mercenaries had identifiable patterns.

But the wounds on the latest victims were unlike any of the previous ones.

They were clean. Too clean. No mess, no hesitation.

“Assassins.”

But for the Revoo Knights, who’d lived in the forest for years, it wasn’t a major threat.

The real issue was something else.

“Who trained them?”

Ibex spoke while staring at the pins stuck in the map.

Assassins were trained—not something one picked up while scraping by in the gutters.

If anything, their upbringing resembled that of knights, who trained as pages from childhood.

Which meant that the black market Perdyx had been forming was a more serious problem than anyone had guessed.

“There must be a backer.”

Ibex murmured.

Training assassins was like training knights—it required significant capital.

“Was it Perdyx himself?”

“Unlikely...”

The Marchioness sounded skeptical.

“That family wouldn’t have the resources to maintain people of that caliber.”

“And no safe location to raise such a force without drawing attention.”

Ibex agreed.

“This was my mistake.”

The Marchioness bit her lip.

“I should’ve tightened the noose once more before I left the palace.”

Her muttered self-reproach made Ibex and the knights rush to refute her.

“This is not your fault, Marchioness.”

“Yes! Our lady has done nothing wrong.”

“Please don’t say that!”

The Empire had survived this long because the Marchioness had fulfilled her duty as Empress and then some.

No one could argue with that.

Comforted, the Marchioness offered a faint smile.

“Scandia.”

“Yes, my lady.”

The one who responded was the adopted son the Marchioness and her husband had taken in years ago. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

A distant collateral relative of House Hesperi, he bore the same name as the princess Scandia who had gone missing in a carriage accident.

Though only nineteen, his sturdy, muscular frame rivaled even the Revoo Knights.

He was also one of the tallest among them.

Despite being a distant cousin, his handsome face closely resembled the Marchioness.

Even her husband’s features seemed to echo in him.

And now, this adopted son reportedly shared mutual feelings with Lady Voreoti.

Moreover, he was serving in the Emperor’s closest circle.

“What do you think?”

“......”

“Scandia?”

“......”

But today, the usually dependable son looked distant and distracted.

He seemed drained, like someone who had just been dumped.

“Are you okay?”

Ibex asked in a worried tone. Now that he looked closer, Scandia’s clear eyes were dimmer than usual.

“I’m sorry.”

Scandia bowed slightly and apologized.

“I’m just worried. The situation seems very serious.”

“That’s understandable.”

The Marchioness, who had been observing him closely, turned her gaze back to the map.

“So what’s your analysis?”

She asked again, and this time Scandia gave a proper answer.

“I tracked the Count of Perdyx with Manique and discovered a vault in his estate.”

Inside, they found contracts with an assassin organization, as well as documents outlining plans to smuggle ‘merchandise’ into mass graves.

“None of that came up when the imperial investigators checked the place.”

The Marchioness clicked her tongue.

The newly crowned Emperor was backed by the leaders of several regions.

Especially the military powerhouses of the North and West, who had lent their strength to his coronation—making the imperial authority stronger than ever.

No way the palace would’ve missed something so sloppy.

Reading her thoughts, Scandia exchanged glances with the knights.

“Ah.”

The Marchioness gave a bitter smile.

“Looks like Perdyx wasn’t entirely stupid.”

She could piece together what happened.

“And the one who had that contract just before?”

“The House of Count Kochix.”

“Seems the actual documents were kept with them.”

At Ibex’s words, the Marchioness nodded.

“I might have to reassess them.”

A no-name noble dreaming of becoming the underworld king—he had no right to—but it seemed he had some petty tricks up his sleeve.

And beyond that petty trick was a hidden truth.

“Who’s the real one behind it?”

Perdyx was a decoy.

Kochix, who held the contract, was also a decoy.

“There’s someone else pulling the strings.”

“The Signo Guild.”

It was Remia—once Empress Tigria’s handmaiden, now the Marchioness’s secretary and Manique’s mother—who spoke.

And she added one unexpected fact.

“They immigrated from the South four years ago.”

“The South?”

Everyone in the room frowned deeply.

“...Wait a moment.”

The Marchioness brushed her hand back through her hair, startled out of her shock.

A bit of urgency leaked into her gesture.

“The Olor family...”

She remembered a report she had received back when she was still in the imperial palace.

“They were raising private soldiers.”