Chapter 39: How a Mercenary Deals with Suspicion (1)
Even though Regina didn’t have the graceful manners and etiquette that Pollymé had learnt since birth, her presence carried the weight of a seasoned warrior.
She was efficient in her work, sharp in reading people, and talented in many areas.
Now, Eileen could understand why Pollymé had spoken so highly of her, saying she was such a cool person.
“Maybe she was never a mercenary at all. Haha…”
It was just a little joke she made to herself in the quiet castle. She didn’t think Regina would actually hear it from behind.
“Madam Menlo, enjoying the morning, I see.”
“Oh my!”
Eileen turned around, startled, and quickly became flustered by the sight before her. Regina smiled, as if understanding.
“Perfect timing, Madam Menlo. Could I trouble you for some bathwater?”
Regina looked like a mess. She was wearing a white chemise nightgown, but her hair was tangled like she had rolled on the ground, and her face and hands were covered in dirt and dust.
Most of all, her face was noticeably swollen.
“Madam… why are you in such a state?”
“Let’s just say I had a very active dream,” Regina said with an awkward smile.
She couldn’t bring herself to admit that she’d been rolling on the ground outside all night.
“… Did you go out early this morning?”
Even though she had rushed to her room and changed into her nightgown, Eileen’s sharp eye had caught her. Regina gently shook her head, silently asking her not to press further.
And with just that one gesture, Eileen was willing to bury what she had seen that morning deep in her heart.
“I’ll prepare it right away. Please wait in your room.”
“I will, thank you,” Regina answered quickly, hoping the water would be hotter than usual.
Seven years had passed.
In Valmen, the morning sunlight was strong from the very start of the day. The Julius estate looked most majestic in the afternoon when the sun hit it just right.
Still, due to the tall stone walls, there were places left in shadow—like the fourth training ground and the back of the kitchen, near the grain storage. Few people went to those spots.
“Hah! Haah!”
But now, that place had become Regina’s personal training ground.
Four days had passed since the night mission, and Regina hadn’t left the training grounds, even at night. Outside her duties as duchess, she cut her sleep short just to train—running, rolling, swinging her sword across the cold floor.
When anxiety clouded her mind or guilt weighed down her body like a soaked blanket, she trained like this.
Usually, the Persona guild members would’ve tried to stop her. But now, with no one to hold her back, she was like an unbridled wild horse.
Even now, Eileen worried from afar as Regina pushed herself until sweat dripped from her chin.
‘I need to get stronger. I won’t feel that helpless again.’
She had one goal: to become stronger than she was now. To rid herself of the fear that she might not be able to protect the Persona guild.
Thwack!
The training dummy finally snapped at the waist from her relentless strikes. It was hard to imagine how hard she must’ve hit it.
Her palm stung, scraped raw against the leather-wrapped sword grip, but she ignored the pain.
“If you keep moving like that, you’ll wear your body out.”
Regina had already sensed his presence, so she didn’t look surprised when Thomas entered the training yard.
“Did you come to spar?”
“…As long as you don’t hit my face.”
“I don’t hit faces anymore,” she smirked.
Knights were full of fighting spirit. Regina’s teasing didn’t go unnoticed—Thomas responded immediately.
Their swords clashed sharply. It wasn’t a deadly match, so there wasn’t any hostility between them.
“Who are you picturing while fighting me?” Thomas asked.
Even though he wasn’t as skilled as Regina, he was still the captain of the estate’s knights. Caught off guard, Regina stepped back with a click of her tongue.
“You could tell? I’ve been thinking about a certain bastard I want to beat to a pulp.”
“…A bastard?”
Thomas was a loyal knight to Valentin. He knew about the masked man who appeared when Regina burnt the Bolero caravan. He hadn’t voiced suspicion like Allan or Weyle, but he wasn’t clueless either.
“There’s someone who not only tricked me but tried to ruin the mission too.”
It made perfect sense if the one Regina was furious with… was his master.
Honestly, if an enemy covered me with a blanket and pillow after knocking me out, I’d be furious too.
“Ahem. Did something happen recently…?”
“It’s personal. Nothing to do with the estate, so no need to worry.”
Clang! A sharp sound rang out. Regina exploited the moment Thomas got distracted and slipped past his guard.
“You shouldn’t lose focus during a match.”
He opened his mouth to respond but closed it again.
“More?”
“…I’ll stop here.”
He was frustrated about losing, but his mind was too cluttered. As Thomas stepped back, Regina got ready to keep training.
“Go ahead. I’m not warmed up yet.”
‘She’s clearly pushing herself too hard…’
But Thomas knew better than to try stopping her. He left the training yard.
Then, he saw Valentin standing under the open hallway between two buildings. He looked like a figure from a painting—cold and elegant under the archways.
He gave off an aura that made it feel like touching him would curse you. Thomas paused, then noticed Allan and Weyle hiding nearby.
“Come here,” Valentin said.
He had been watching Regina for hours.
She probably didn’t notice, as she was so focused she didn’t even react when Allan approached.
A week ago, Valentin had returned to his room alone after leaving Regina behind. That night’s mask and robe were now stuffed under a hidden panel in his closet.
Since his time as the mad prince, abandoned in the palace, he had lived a double life—active at night, invisible during the day. Only his most trusted aides knew this secret.
‘That’s why I brought Regina here—to keep moving freely, day or night.’
He hadn’t expected the sleeping drug to fail so badly. She was supposed to be asleep, not moving like that…
“What did she say?” Valentin asked as Thomas approached.
‘Master, you’re in deep trouble.’
That thought reached his throat. All he’d gotten from Regina was anger—and if his master was the “bastard” she mentioned… well, there was no way to report that honestly.
He rubbed his eyes. Surely, she wouldn’t punch a duke, right?
“She seemed angry. I think it was because she lost to you in a duel. Nothing else worth reporting.”
“We can’t even ask her why she was there that night… This is troublesome. Do you think she realised I drugged the tea?”
Regina was sharp and strong. No way she didn’t notice the effects on her body. She probably suspected him the moment she returned and saw who brought the tea.
“She’s definitely watching Allan. So don’t get caught.”
“…Yes, sir,” Allan replied, though his eyes narrowed. Easy for him to say—being questioned by Regina was terrifying.
“She’s the second person my sleeping drug hasn’t worked on.”
Ordinary people would have passed out instantly. Thomas had tested it before—it had knocked him out for a full day.
“But why was she even there?”
Thomas asked, glancing at him with concern. Allan looked at his master’s face. Cold and unreadable as ever.
“I’m not sure. Weyle.”
“Yes, sir.”
As if waiting for the call, Weyle stepped out from the shadows behind him.
“Are you investigating why she appeared in front of me like that, at dawn?”
Over half of the Harne merchants were from the shadow clan. And they only served Valentin.
Hidden in the dark, they could become eyes and ears—day or night.
“Yes. Harne is already moving.”
“Master, maybe it’s best if you keep your distance from her for a while,” Allan offered carefully.
“Distance?” Valentin echoed.
The mood thickened instantly. Weyle, Allan, and Thomas all swallowed hard.
“I also think we should be cautious—until my people find something.”
Weyle gently agreed.
Valentin’s gaze grew colder as he stared at him.
“Then why didn’t you stop me… when I held her in my arms?”
