Chapter 12: How a Mercenary Enters the Castle (3)

“That’s nothing—you twisted your back this morning,” the butler Confe said.

This is just an excuse so he doesn’t have to bow to a mercenary! Beimon thought, glaring at him.

She watched him studying his mustache rather than meeting her gaze. She’d never trusted Confe—he seemed too friendly, like he had secret ties to the Renziér family.

“He probably always has back problems,” she mocked.

“Ha, age weakens the body. That’s why I rely on you, my lady,” replied Confe, making Beimon even more uneasy.

“Rely all you want—but don’t dump your work on me.”

“Of course, my lady.”

But then Confe changed the topic. “Speaking of, that commoner woman really settled the Duke’s fit—without medicine?”

His wide eyes glittered like a dragonfly’s. Beimon looked away, disgusted.

“Yes, she did. However, I must return to my duties,” he replied. Then she left, still irritated.

Confe stood alone in the hallway for over ten minutes, staring at Regina’s door without blinking—or swallowing.

After Beimon left, Regina examined her new room—it would be her home for the next year.

A long-term contract, but it’s been ages since I slept alone.

Even across the continent, her contracts rarely lasted more than two seasons—and she always had guildmates at her side.

She searched the walls, gently touching them for hidden spells or secret mechanisms—she was the only one in Persona who could detect magic.

But there were none. The room was empty and bleak, proof the room hadn’t been used for a long time.

They’ll freak when they find out I’m alone here.

Only Maut, Gael, and Rosie knew the truth. Unless Shanno was told, but he wouldn’t tell anyone—he was loyal.

Still, I lied. I told them it was just a guard mission and marriage would always end in divorce.

If they knew she’d actually signed a marriage pact, they’d come here and attack—they treated marriage like a sacred bond.

The deadline is one year. Make the castle safe, take the final payment, return to Persona.

Late at night, Valentin—who seemed asleep after taking his medicine—slowly opened his eyes. He sat up and approached the window.

“Wale.”

A shadow slithered across the wall, creeping toward him. Soon, a man with ash-gray hair emerged from the darkness.

“Sir?”

“What about Harne?”

“He’s ready. We can move to Valmen at your command.”

Wale’s gray eyes glowed with fierce loyalty—he was a member of the Shadow Clan, devoted to his master’s every whim and ready to sacrifice his life.

“Good. I’ve brought in a fine hunter for chasing out pests,” Valentin said.

“A mercenary hunter?”

“She impressed me from day one,” Wale replied.

Valentin grinned. Even Wale was surprised by this woman.

“But Sir Thomas still distrusts her,” Wale said.

“He’s too narrow-minded—he judged me for my heritage,” Valentin said. “He’s the next one to fall..”

Wale didn’t mind—Valentin didn’t trust anyone easily.
Even if everyone here died, he’d remain distant and unemotional.

He’s a puppet fuelled only by hatred and revenge—his soul burnt away long ago.

Suddenly, they heard soft footsteps. Wale melted into the curtain shadows, invisible.

Valentin smiled. “Look—she’s cautious.”

“…I sensed someone entering.”

Valentin had tested how stealthy Wale was—and knew how accurate Regina’s senses were.

“If she’s inside, I can’t go out. I’ll bring Harne and return later.”

“Do so.”

“And Thomas…”

He needs to understand his position.

Wale peeked from the curtains, catching Valentin’s smile. The Duke clearly hoped this mercenary would fix their problems.

“Go.”

Wale slipped out the window, moving like smoke. Valentin watched him go with regret.

Should’ve tested whether she could find Wale—but…

She’d probably have stabbed him the moment she found him. I can’t lose him yet.

Alone, Valentin gazed at the full moon—his father, the previous emperor, had loved hunting dogs.

Maybe I inherited that trait. But what I’ll raise… is more like a hunting cat.

He laughed, excited by the possibilities. What hunting skills would she show in this castle?

Regina had slept lightly and felt odd energy in the castle that night—so she didn’t feel rested in the morning.

My first morning here… was awful.

What do I wear today?

As the Duchess, she needed noble clothes. But she’d packed only leather pants, a vest, and jacket—no elegant dresses.

The door opened. “I’m Allan Roten—may I come in?”

“Please.”

Allan looked surprised. Most noblewomen sleep in chemises, but Regina wore a linen and leather vest, pants, and boots.

He looked taken aback—though he admitted silently, he thought it looked strong and cool.

So this healer and that knight are Valentin’s allies.

His thick glasses hiding sharp eyes told her he was serious—no wonder Valentin hired him.

“Allan said dressing as a duchess is the plan. Do I need clothes?”

“I already arranged it,” Allan said. “A designer will arrive this afternoon fitted for dresses. We’ll order whatever’s needed.”

“Will the Duke’s household pay for it?” she asked.