CHAPTER 84…………………………….
. Secret (2)
Since night was approaching, the carriage—which he’d naturally expected to head back to the mansion—didn’t stop after circling the city once. Instead, it slipped out toward the outskirts and came to a halt in front of a secluded warehouse.
When the coachman got down first and opened the warehouse door, the duke and the woman who claimed to be his aide went inside.
Those who had been secretly tailing them stopped their horses and exchanged meaningful glances.
“Pretty obvious why a man and woman would sneak into a place like this at night. Even highborns are no different, huh? Well, I guess we should thank them for coming all the way out to a deserted alley for us.”
One of the men muttered this with a vile grin as he jumped off his horse.
“The hell are you thinking? You think everyone in the world is like you? Doing that kind of thing in a warehouse?”
“What?”
A man who looked down on the offended companion spoke.
“These aren’t just anyone. The target’s Duke Syde. He escaped the kingdom’s captivity all by himself, remember. We can’t let our guard down.”
“That’s because the kingdom’s idiots couldn’t keep him.”
Another man snorted as he dismounted.
There were five of them in total. The duke’s group numbered three, but the female aide and the coachman wouldn’t be of much help. They judged that no matter how fearsome the duke’s martial skills were, five men would be enough. More men meant more shares to divide, after all.
The assassins standing by the door exchanged glances. The one who seemed to be their leader stepped forward.
“Probably better to take care of it inside, right?”
He muttered this, but didn’t wait for their agreement. He immediately kicked the door down.
The warehouse seemed to be a place where hay for horses was stored. The smell of dry grass and animal filth hung in the air.
“You’re awfully slow.”
As their eyes adjusted to the darkness, a voice drew all their gazes toward the duke.
He swung his massive sword with a loud whoosh, as if warming up—an action intimidating in itself.
“No need to be scared. He still has to guard the woman and the coachman, and he’s alone.”
“Guard who?”
The duke gave a small amused snort and snapped his fingers. Anje set fire to a pile of hay stacked in the corner.
Because it hadn’t rained for quite some time, the dry hay burst into flames instantly and spread to the warehouse. It was a ploy to scatter the assassins’ focus.
When sparks fell from the burning ceiling, one assassin panicked and called to the leader.
“What do we do?”
“What do you mean, what do we do!”
Snarling, the leader charged at the duke first.
The duke effortlessy deflected the surprisingly sharp thrust and tilted his head playfully.
“How about a wager? Think they were paid in advance to kill me or not?”
From the back door—where she’d moved to avoid the flames—Anje replied curtly.
“I won’t take that bet, but I’m sure they were paid. Look how desperately they’re coming at you. And even if not, this line of work always starts with at least some upfront payment. But I think these ones got a lot. All their swords are brand-new.”
Dodging another blade sliding toward him, the duke reversed his grip and drove his sword into the chest of the man lunging at his throat.
The assassins glanced at their fallen comrade—dead without even a proper scream—and fear mixed with fury glittered in their eyes.
“Who sent you?”
The duke asked gently as he created a hole in the side of another assassin who’d tried to sneak around and attack Anje.
His voice was soft and low, yet nothing sent chills down their spines like it. One assassin faltered, his sword lowering as he stepped back.
The leader barked,
“Think about the money we’re going to get! Two of us are dead—our shares just went up. With that money, we can quit this damn job forever!”
It was meant to rekindle greed extinguished by fear—but his voice lacked strength, and the words fell flat.
In the meantime, another man collapsed, coughing up blood onto the duke’s blade.
Now only two assassins remained.
“Congratulations. Now the two of you can split the reward. Actually… you could take it all yourself. If you can, that is.”
As sparks rained from the ceiling, the leader hesitated—and in that moment, the duke smoothly cut down the other one. Smiling leisurely, he flicked blood off his sword.
“So? Who gave the order?”
The last assassin looked desperately toward the door they’d come through, but flames were consuming it. The latch had broken loose, leaving a small gap, but he didn’t dare attempt slipping through the raging fire.
The duke leaned on his sword like a staff and watched him. The bright blue eyes that were usually clear had darkened like the night sky.
That was the only sign he was truly angry. His smile hadn’t left his lips, his demeanor was relaxed, and even the flying sparks seemed to avoid him.
Tilting his head slightly, the duke lifted the sword and pointed it at the assassin’s throat.
“It’s been a very long day. But if you open your mouth, I’ll spare your life.”
“B-but… that is…”
The assassin shrank back, glancing around wildly. Anje held her breath. The man looked like he was just about to talk.
But then, an arrow shot through the flames.
Hit square in the back, the assassin fell to his knees without a sound. Judging by his wide, stunned eyes, even he hadn’t expected to die like that.
“Who the hell!”
Some in this line of work chose death over revealing a client. But others carried valuable hints.
From what Anje could tell, this man had been the latter—he’d been just about to speak.
Anje dashed forward to check the assassin’s body, but more arrows came down hard around her, as if aimed at her.
“Are you insane! Want to die?”
“Just a second! Please, help me search him!”
“Stop this madness!”
The duke dragged Anje back and rushed out through the rear door.
“Your Excellency, aren’t you even a little irritated? Don’t you want to know who keeps doing this?”
Anje struggled in his arms, shouting.
“No matter what, your life comes first.”
A pillar—its base burned away—snapped with a loud crack under the collapsing roof. The entire shed was caving in, burying both the assassins and every clue that could unravel the truth.
Anje stomped her foot in frustration.
“I really thought we’d get something this time…”
The duke slung her over his shoulder and sprinted toward the carriage. Even as he ran, arrows whistled past them.
He opened the carriage door and tossed Anje inside before leaping in himself.
“Go!”
The coachman, who’d been hiding and watching the situation, snapped the reins at the duke’s command. The carriage shot down the dark alleyway.
“You’re not hurt?”
“I’m fine! But that’s not the issue! The clues are gone!”
Anje fumed, unable to hide her frustration.
“Do you have a brain or not? In that situation, clues matter more than your life?”
In the dim light of street lamps seeping through the window, the duke looked Anje over and frowned.
Despite insisting she was unharmed, her skirt was singed and ragged, and ash clung to the once-beautiful dress. Even in that state, she clutched the opal necklace—his gift—with one hand as if terrified she might lose it.
She didn’t even realize her wrist, singed by the flying sparks, was swelling red.
“Tch.”
With rough motions, the duke pulled off his cravat and wrapped it around her wrist.
“Could it have been Marquis Aragon or one of the southern nobles? We were following them from the start, weren’t we?”
Anje managed to sit upright despite the bouncing carriage and thought for a moment before shaking her head.
“If it were them, there would have been some kind of signal. But even until we left the ballroom, the assassins were watching only us, not the marquis. The marquis wasn’t watching them either.”
“Hmm…”
The duke sank into thought for a moment—then fixed his gaze on Anje.
“Then how did you notice someone was following us?”
The unexpected question made Anje’s expression stiffen. Once, the duke would have let this slide.
But he’d begun to grow suspicious—a suspicion he had kept to himself for some time.
At first, he hadn’t cared. He’d intended to send her away soon.
But now that he could no longer bring himself to push her away, Duke Joseph Syde felt compelled to uncover the truth. The possibility that she might be a spy sent by one of his enemies tormented him.
He couldn’t bear the thought of being unable to send her away—and yet unable to keep her close.
“I—I told you before. You pick up things naturally when you’ve worked in this field long enough.”
The duke stared at her attempt to dodge the question and shook his head.
“Then tell me precisely what you picked up. Try to gloss over this, and not only you, but the entire ‘Black Wolf’ will disappear from the empire. It’s all written in the contract, so don’t complain later.”
