‘She must be with the Duke.’
It was good that he had managed to persuade the director of the orphanage to investigate inside, but he had no idea they would visit the next day.
Tom clenched his teeth and stared intently at the back door of the Duke’s estate through his telescope.
‘Her recent outings have been irregular, so I don’t even know what time she’ll come out.’
Still, it was unlikely for them to come out too late at night, so Tom was considering leaving for the day when he had that thought.
“Huh?”
A figure dressed in a navy blue cloak looked around before hurriedly rushing outside.
‘What’s going on?’
Tom quickly stood up from his spot and began to follow at a certain distance.
‘There doesn’t seem to be any guards?’
It could be because it was nighttime and the guards were not visible. Tom hesitated for a moment before throwing a small firecracker he had in his possession into a nearby trash bin near the woman.
Boom! The sound of the explosion echoed, causing the woman to collapse, but there was no one coming to protect her.
Not expecting it to make such a loud noise, Tom felt a mixture of surprise and a faint sense of guilt rising within him.
But in his world, guilt didn’t pay the bills.
The burden of human emotions was too heavy, too cumbersome to carry.
He had once held onto it, unable to let go, and had watched from the sidelines as countless others moved ahead of him.
“Is there really no one?”
He put the telescope in his pocket and took out a small recording device, slowly approaching her to start recording.
‘Please, just show me your face.’
He needed money. Desperately. And to earn money, he needed to see the true face of the Duchess.
His heart started pounding. Whether it was due to his anticipation for the scoop or the lingering guilt, he couldn’t tell.
The woman, still without revealing her face, limped and entered an alley. It was a direction that a seasoned reporter like Tom could instantly recognize as leading toward the black market.
Under normal circumstances, he would have been cautious, but intoxicated by the exhilaration of finally catching a big story after a long period of lurking, Tom didn’t hesitate and immediately started chasing after her without any caution.
As he turned into the alley, a sharp sword was aimed at his throat.
“Suspect.”
“…!”
The green brooch-adorned cloak fell to the ground, revealing her true identity.
Auburn hair swirled around, revealing a woman who looked strong and resolute. She aimed her sword at Tom and gave him a cold stare.
“W-Who…?!”
“I am Roselia Vantrin, Deputy Commander of the Second Knight Division of the Felton Duchy. I am here to apprehend you for the crime of threatening Duchess Felton.”
⋆★⋆
“I wonder if he’s been caught by now?”
Grace, who didn’t want to enter the annex, sat outside in the garden, receiving a massage from Sally.
“He might have been caught. Deputy Commander Roselia is quite remarkable!”
“I hope nothing bad happens…”
Is it impolite to have such concerns for a Knight? Grace muttered as she admired the night scenery.
‘The weather is nice.’
These days, the weather wasn’t too hot and was pleasant, but it wasn’t suitable for wearing a cloak. However, since it was made of Rehton’s fur, she could casually wear it with no issues.
By consistently wearing unconventional attire that differed from others, it became familiar to the eyes.
‘No matter how much one can conceal their appearance, clothing is still recognizable.’
If that was the weak point of the magical device, then it was indeed a weak point. Even in the original story, Sylvester found Aria by her cloak.
Grace leaned back, resting her back against something, and let out a deep sigh.
‘How should I handle this…?’
⋆★⋆
“Roselia Vantrin, Deputy Commander of the Second Knight Division. I have successfully completed my mission.”
“Well done.”
Roselia knelt down and handed the cloak back to Grace. Her demeanor seemed excessively formal, but Grace accepted it as the honor that she believed a knight should uphold.
“I accidentally dropped the Madam’s cloak on the ground. I’m sorry.”
“Oh no, it’s alright, really.”
Grace pondered on how to unify her speech pattern as she accepted the cloak Roselia handed to her.
“You trusted me and lent it to me… It is only right for me to face the consequences.”
“It’s just a cloak, no big deal.”
“But His Highness personally prepared it for the Madam, didn’t he?”
“It’s just clothes, they can be washed. And you’ve returned safely after fulfilling the task I asked of you, so it’s fine.”
“…And also.”
“Hmm?”
Roselia handed an old bag to Grace.
“These are the belongings that Tom Birkin, the journalist imprisoned in the Duke’s underground dungeon, had. I didn’t examine the contents closely, but I’m sure there are no items like magic bombs.”
“…Thank you?”
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