Chapter 62: How a Mercenary Avoids Rain with Her Husband (2)

Rosie opened the cloth pouch and checked inside. She saw long silver needles. The tips still gleamed sharp, with poison not yet dried.

“Poison needles?”

“Yes. Find out which guild or group uses these. It might be dangerous and troublesome, but if you succeed, I’ll let you join the night missions too.”

It was a test. Rosie looked at the needles with a mixed face. The test seemed simple, but at the same time, it stirred her strong desire to be recognized.

“If you don’t want to, you don’t have to.”

“I-I’ll do it!”

When Regina reached out to take them back, Rosie quickly hid them in her arms.

“And for two weeks, stable cleaning is all yours.”

“Miss…!”

The Persona stables were wide, full of horse dung. It was the most hated duty among mercenaries.

“…I’ll do it.”

She had embarrassed Regina in front of others and ruined the mood. She accepted the punishment without complaint.

“But… where did this come from?”

“From a boy who attacked me at the castle. Seems like there’s a place that takes children and forces them to become assassins. I must find it.”

No other mercenary was so righteous. Rosie admired Regina for it. Because of her, Rosie was still alive.

“I’ll do my best to find out.”

“Good. If problems come up, ask for help.”

“No. I’ll do it with my own strength.”

Regina worried at Rosie’s eagerness but held back.

“And one more thing. Do you know what Bolero Company was trading when they kidnapped that target?”

“I couldn’t check. Time was too short. What I did find was they got their first investment from Count Rengiere’s house.”

A chill ran through Regina.

She looked at the heavy rain outside. Though it was only evening, the dark sky made it feel like night. She held her waist.

“A black stone… the bombs thrown at Valentin’s carriage looked like black stones too.”

Coincidence?

“The ones targeting Valentin… Count Rengiere’s family, and the Empress Dowager behind them. I already knew this but pretended not to. But what is that black stone? It feels dangerous.”

Should she dig deeper? To protect Valentin? No—that crossed the line she had drawn at the start. But only now did Regina realize how blurred that line had become.

“…I’ll just investigate first. Whether to help Valentin more than the contract demands… I’ll decide after.”

“Regina?”

“Ah, I was lost in thought. You can go now.”

“Yes, then I’ll go.”

Clutching the pouch, Rosie hurried out. Soon her face turned red with shame.

She felt miserable, wronged, and bitter. The shame burned so strong it made her head ache.

“But… is she really doing this only because of the children?”

Rosie looked at the poisoned needle in the cloth. A bad thought crept in.

“What if it’s because of that duke? What if she feels something for him… and that’s why she wants to investigate?”

Regina was said to care only about mercenary work. But she was still human, capable of emotions.

Clutching the pouch, Rosie walked on.

Turning a corner, she suddenly saw a large shadow fall over her. She squeezed her eyes shut, expecting to bump into someone.

“…Ah.”

But there was no impact. Valentin had stopped his steps first.

“Excuse me.”

Rosie lifted her head. She had to crane her neck high—he was tall, and she was small.

“Um… Your Grace.”

Without meaning to, she called him. His crooked gaze made her flustered, as if speaking to him at all was rude. She had to say something.

“I… I feel sorry for what happened last night. For my behavior.”

“Ah. I see.”

His answer was lukewarm. Rosie panicked more. He didn’t seem to expect or want any apology.

“… Forgive me for asking, but… what do you think of our Miss?”

Valentin tilted his head. Even in the dim corridor, his amethyst eyes shone.

“Why do you want to know?”

“I was… shocked. I never thought Miss would bring you to Persona.”

Every mercenary must have felt the same.

And Rosie had noticed—Regina seemed to care more for this client than others. Even if he was royalty, she usually treated clients equally.

Most of all, this duke’s mood was different when he was with Regina than when alone. Just like mercenaries who pretended in front of her.

Valentin smirked. Mercenaries loved gossiping about Regina.

“But does what I think matter to you?”

He didn’t feel like joining such talk. Instead, he added coldly:

“You seem to have quite a lot built up against her.”

Rosie’s face burned red. She bowed her head quickly.

“T-that was just drunken talk.”

“Then maybe stop drinking. Such behavior is shameful.”

Valentin’s eyes turned to the corridor. It connected several empty guest rooms and Regina’s room.

Seeing Rosie’s red eyes, he was certain: Regina must have already forgiven her and comforted her. Too soft. To those she cared for, she was weaker than fruit.

“She overlooks her own wounds too easily. Drinks her sorrows away… and ignores her scars.”

Valentin’s gaze sharpened.

“I promise you—whatever Regina has done at the Julius estate, you could never do better.”

Rosie, burning with heat, pressed her face with her hand. Valentin noticed her palms weren’t rough with calluses yet.

“That thing you said when drunk…”

“Instead of whining, use that time to work harder. At least half as hard as her.”

He knew he was being cruel. Yet he still left her with the cutting words and walked away.

Rosie clenched the pouch tight. She swore she would prove herself with this test.

After speaking with Rosie, Regina took a short rest. Then she went to the guild’s records room, where request forms, ledgers, and other documents were kept.

Most mercenaries hated reading, so dust gathered there.

“…Ah, it’s pouring. Might last until morning.”

She had told Valentin lightly before, but the sword wound on her waist was serious. A healer once warned she might never walk again. Her mistake that day had put comrades in danger.

Maybe that regret was why the pain lingered.

“Will this ache every time it rains?”

She didn’t want that. Rain fell on nearly half the days of a year—half her life in pain would be unbearable.

“A black stone… a special kind of stone…”

She couldn’t ask Rosie to handle both tasks. If only Gellon were here, it would be easier. He might act foolish, but her father knew much.

“Is he even alive?”

He had run away countless times before, but never gone this long without contact. Still, because it was Gellon, she didn’t worry much.

“Maybe grandfather knows.”

Her grandfather, Clarte, had been the great archmage, the head of wizards for many years. His knowledge was endless.

Since Persona settled here, she hadn’t visited him often.

“No. Best not to see him yet. If he finds out about my fake marriage and contract signature…”

He might explode with anger and burn down half the Empire.

Or worse—if he couldn’t scold her, he might torment Valentin instead. Regina didn’t want to put her client in such trouble.

“To find out for sure… I’ll have to go to Bolero Company.”

She disliked them. But she knew their leader’s face. Gellon had old grudges with him.