Chapter 62:
Infiltration (2)
Fortunately, the carriage was luxurious enough to soothe even the anger of a weary passenger abruptly awakened from much-needed rest. Sinking into the plush seat, Lowell’s irritation softened somewhat. He deliberately pressed himself against the window, folding his long frame awkwardly, so that Temia could sit more comfortably.
“Come sit here. It’ll be better if you get some sleep while we’re on the road.”
“Yes…”
“Could you move a little closer? It’ll be easier if you lean against me while you rest.”
Temia’s eyes widened in surprise as she frantically waved her hands.
“N-no! That’s unnecessary! I’ll be fine!”
“If you fall asleep sitting upright, you’ll either topple over or keep bumping your head against the window. Watching you do that would make me nervous. Honestly, you don’t really believe you’ll stay awake the whole ride, do you?”
“…Well, that’s true, but still…”
She couldn’t even muster the empty bravado to claim she’d keep her eyes open. And she certainly didn’t want him to witness the embarrassing sight of her nodding off and smacking her forehead against the carriage wall.
Yet, lately… things had been strange. Somewhere along the way, Lowell’s physical proximity had become part of her everyday life. It hadn’t been like this before. He had been closing the gap between them, little by little.
If she had been trying to shorten their emotional distance in order to read his hidden side, then he was shamelessly collapsing the physical space between them.
Isn’t it ridiculous to start blushing about it now? After all, I held his hand while dancing, didn’t I?
If she had been fully rested, Temia might have thought this through more clearly. But exhaustion dulled her judgment. Lowell, smiling so casually, made the suggestion sound perfectly natural.
Ugh, whatever…
Her tired mind dissolved into fog. Lowell, noticing her faltering resistance, pressed his advantage with a disarming smile.
“If you’d prefer, I could lend you my lap as a pillow, though I imagine you’d be horrified.”
“W-what?! What kind of outrageous idea is that?!”
Her drowsy eyes snapped wide open in outrage.
Great. That jolted me awake. Couldn’t he have chosen a less infuriating way to do it?!
“Outrageous? To think you’d insult my genuine concern for an employee’s well-being…”
“T-that’s not the point! Who says things like that?!”
“But logically, lying down would be the most efficient way to rest. I was only speaking of efficiency.”
Lowell wore the expression of a man genuinely wounded by unfair accusations, his face utterly calm as he spouted nonsense. Temia, exasperated, turned forward—only to find the attendant’s gaze brushing across hers. Her face flushed with embarrassed annoyance.
Really?! Saying such things in front of others—what is he thinking?!
But she didn’t have the strength left for a proper scolding. Between the festival and this sudden mission, her body had long since passed its limits. Her brief spark of alertness quickly faded, and drowsiness crept back in.
Seeing her head begin to droop, Lowell seized the chance. With an easy motion, he tugged her wrist, drawing her close. In one fluid gesture, he guided her head to his shoulder and gently patted her as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Then we’ll do it this way, agreed?”
“…Haa.”
“You look exhausted. Rest. You won’t get another chance once we arrive.”
Caught in the flow, Temia missed her chance to object and simply slumped against him. To her surprise, it was actually quite comfortable. Lowell even began humming softly, clearly in high spirits.
What is he so pleased about?
Surely it couldn’t be comfortable to have her leaning against him. Yet he seemed delighted—like someone savoring a private joy.
This is the sort of thing lovers would enjoy… Have I finally lost my mind from fatigue?
Her heart thudded rapidly, panic rising. She prayed her face wasn’t as red as it felt, then squeezed her eyes shut, feigning sleep.
“Then I’ll take this empty spot!”
Lehri, ever perceptive, flopped onto the seat beside the attendant, sprawled out, and promptly dozed off. The attendant, smiling faintly, draped a handkerchief over the bird’s small, heaving belly like a blanket.
Inside the carriage, silence settled.
The attendant quietly drew the heavy curtains. Given that they were secretly investigating a business, it was a sensible precaution—keeping prying eyes from noticing who rode inside.
But Lowell smirked and muttered dryly:
“No need to guard against us, you know.”
The words sounded strange, almost misplaced. Clearly, the curtains had been meant to shield them from outsiders, not the other way around.
“…Guard against us?”
Temia, half-asleep against his shoulder, cracked her eyes open and asked in a drowsy voice.
Lowell’s tone was sharp, but his explanation surprisingly kind.
“It means they’re being cautious. After all, we’re heading somewhere that won’t be easy.”
“And where exactly is that?”
Though she intended to follow regardless, curiosity gnawed at her. Lowell nodded, indulging her.
“I should have explained earlier. We’re going to inspect a casino sponsored by Duke Withro. We need to see if there are traces of illegal magical tools or potions. Rumor has it that funds are flowing suspiciously in one direction, and the possibility of magic being involved has raised concerns.”
Temia jerked upright, staring at him.
“A casino…?!”
“Yes. To be precise, a playground for the wealthy. It’s called Callis Land.”
For a moment, Lowell glanced at his now-lightened shoulder, then met Temia’s startled gaze. Her wide eyes mirrored disbelief, and he gave a short laugh.
It was absurd, even to him. He had never set foot in such places—he had always disdained them.
Temia frowned, still puzzled.
“But why would they guard against us if they hired us? Isn’t this a commission?”
“That’s tied to why the Duke is sponsoring the place. Why do you think a man of his stature would pour money into a gambling hall open to anyone with coin?”
“I… don’t know? A hobby?”
“Where large sums move in secret, there are always ulterior motives. If it’s just entertainment, then fine. But if not, it’s the battlefield of conflicting interests. And a sponsor—someone who funds it—has both the wealth and the standing to meddle as they please.”
His voice was laced with cynicism. Temia, now fully awake, absorbed every word.
“So… you’re suggesting the Duke sponsors Callis Land not for pleasure, but to monitor the dealings and the flow of money?”
“Correct. Now, tell me—what would it mean if significant funds were being funneled toward a single individual there?”
“…That there are hidden interests even the Duke hasn’t identified? Wait—are we investigating that?”
“Indeed. A sharp mind for an assistant. Correct again.”
The proud look he gave her made her chest tighten with unease. Gambling dens thrived on risked fortunes, but they were also the perfect laundries for suspicious funds.
And Lowell received this commission? Was that coincidence?
Her spine tingled coldly. The mage didn’t seem involved, but the possibility couldn’t be dismissed.
What if the money is financing rebellion?
Shady funds could flow anywhere—but if they touched magic, the implications were dire. Though her doubts about Lowell had begun to waver, she could not dismiss such a scenario.
Perhaps, in the original timeline, this was when he joined too. Then this case is worth digging into.
Despite her reluctance earlier, Temia now found herself intrigued—almost eager. She ignored the attendant’s steady gaze and looked instead at the thick curtains.
“By the way, Rio will be joining us. We’ll meet him upon arrival.”
Her head snapped back toward Lowell.
“…Rio? Why?”
“Seems he’s acquainted with the Duke. In fact, he was the one who introduced me.”
Temia’s lips parted. She hadn’t expected to encounter Rio again so soon. Memories surfaced of the secret agreement she had made with him, and of how she had suddenly abandoned him midway to join Lowell.
Perhaps I was too harsh…
A prickle of guilt twisted her expression into an awkward smile. But it wasn’t quite the right situation for an apology either—after all, her prior commitment had been with Lowell. Still, the thought lingered uncomfortably.
“It’ll take a while to reach the destination. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you when we arrive.”
Believing her frown to be from fatigue, Lowell gently tilted her head back onto his shoulder, patting her lightly.
Neither of them truly slept after that.
For Temia, anticipation and anxiety churned. At last, a thread of the mystery she had been chasing seemed within reach, and her hands trembled faintly even as she leaned against him.
For Lowell, the reason was different.
She called him Rio. Just Rio. Not by his family name?
Lowell had deliberately lived simply as “Lowell” since leaving his house, but Rio was not the sort to discard status. That arrogant man had always paraded his nobility. And Temia—serious, proper Temia—was hardly the type to flout such formality.
Why, then…?
A strange irritation flickered in Lowell’s chest.
It’s nothing, but… damn it, why does it bother me? What about that man makes her smile like that?
