Chapter 17
Flinch.
Lloyd’s face twisted as the jelly hidden in his sleeve squirmed.
Of course, the jelly knew that the words he had just spoken were only part of their act as a fake couple. But he was curious. How would the jelly pass those words on to Kanoe?
And how would she react when she heard them?
No doubt she’d respond in her usual dry voice, something like: “Wow, your acting is so convincing you can fool even your friends.”
Still, if he could see her flustered expression even once, that alone would be amusing.
Was it too mean of him to want this thrill—this little flutter you can only feel when you don’t yet know someone’s heart—just a little more?
“…An ability? You’re saying you’re dating someone because of your ability?”
“It doesn’t work. Not on Kanoe.”
Not working? Lloyd blinked and asked again, his face painted with disbelief.
What, was this supposed to mean the power of love was real?
“…Damn it, if I’d known it was going to be like this, I wouldn’t have come to help you!”
Lloyd ruffled his green hair in frustration, thrashing about like salt was rubbed in his wounds.
“So you’re not going to help?”
“You already know what I’m going to say, don’t you?”
“Nope.”
Ian lifted his hands innocently as though he were spotless. Lloyd exhaled with a defeated look.
“Listen carefully. The reason I came all the way out here, dragging you out into this backwater.”
The easy smile drained from Lloyd’s face. His gray eyes darkened in an instant.
“The head of House Frederic is looking for you.”
“…Levant Frederic is buying up Ian Frederic’s wanted posters, you say.”
It was laughable. To think that Frederic, once closest to being a house of honor, had sunk this low.
Levre leaned deep against his chair as he flipped through neatly organized documents.
Buying up wanted posters officially issued by the Empire could be considered an act of treason against the crown.
At least, by common sense it would. But Levant Frederic wasn’t buying the fugitives—he was buying the posters.
Yes. The papers scattered in the streets.
“What, is he trying to do some kind of street cleaning? He can’t touch the officially published copies anyway.”
“Yes, sir. So it seems he’s focusing on those in the hands of ordinary citizens, or discarded ones.”
“The price?”
“One gold coin per sheet.”
One gold was about a commoner family’s living expenses for an entire month. To people with no ability to catch and turn in a fugitive, that single piece of paper must look like pure gold.
“Of course, the lord of the house doesn’t appear in person. Most of the trades are happening under the table.”
Roughly ten thousand wanted posters for Ian Frederic had been issued across the Empire. Even at a glance, that meant Frederic was planning to sweep up ten thousand gold’s worth.
Even for a powerful house, that was not a burdenless sum. It was enough to buy out all the fertile land and manors in a prime territory.
“And what money is he using to pull off something like this?”
The aide quietly answered while tidying the files.
“There are rumors he’s being backed by the Oplentus Bank.”
Ah, Oplentus. Levre smirked, resting his chin on his hand.
“If those rumors are true, then yes, it’s entirely possible.”
Oplentus was a titan of the financial world. If they were supporting him, then even Levant’s ridiculous scheme became feasible.
“Well, it’s convenient for me that he made the first move.”
The murkier the waters, the easier it was to catch fish.
The press shouting that this was the greatest scandal since the Empire’s founding.
The navy combing through the seas as if turning them inside out.
The Imperial Knights keeping tighter watch than ever.
And now even Lord Levant Frederic moving in the shadows.
“Sir, what about Captain Markello’s call…?”
“Tell him I’m away for now.”
“Yes, understood.”
The stage was set. All that remained was to find Kanoe before anyone else and drag her into court himself.
Thud.
He slapped the documents down on the desk and rose. Slowly, he walked across the room and stopped before a bookshelf neatly arranged with tomes.
“…Haa.”
A deep sigh escaped him. He picked up an old picture frame and brushed his fingers over the photo.
The faded photograph still held vivid memories of childhood.
“Pictures? I feel kind of awkward with those…”
“Levre, if you keep saying it’s awkward without even trying, you’ll never find new joys in life.”
Even as a kid she used to talk in such roundabout ways.
“Kanoe, isn’t this just because you want to test out the new camera?”
“….”
She didn’t answer. Kanoe Bluebell’s habit when someone hit the mark was to scrunch her eyes awkwardly.
“Yeah. I want to try it. So let’s take one together!”
“W-wait, Kanoe, I’m not ready—”
Click!
There was no time to pose.
Her face, lit with joy as she pulled his arm close.
His own, caught mid-bewilderment.
“…Everything was ruined because of you, Kanoe.”
The past never returned. Levre Valentir knew that truth more painfully than anyone.
After that night at the Bluebell Hotel—
When people died, and their dearest friend Tiana fell into a coma.
The family’s hard-won standing in the Empire crumbled in an instant. Because his house had been one of Kanoe Bluebell’s sponsors.
He had tried to contain the damage. But whether or not it was truly her fault no longer mattered. The hotel’s manager was none other than Kanoe.
And so, she had to bear the blame.
“There was a time I loved your strength.”
She wasn’t like a delicate flower, but like a tree with roots firmly in the earth.
Come rain or wind, she never fell. Whatever came, she always stood back up.
He had admired that. Maybe he had even learned how to endure life by watching her.
“But I never thought that same strength would one day strangle you.”
He had believed it inevitable. That Kanoe’s imprisonment in the infamous Karkere Prison was unavoidable.
That was the duty of a person with abilities. That was the responsibility of the hotel’s operator. Just as sacrifices had always been demanded of the Valentir family to protect their name.
Sometimes, to protect what you value most, you must abandon something else. And he had always been forced to make such choices.
But Kanoe did not.
She threw away duty, responsibility, choice itself—and escaped from the prison ship.
“That’s why I can’t choose you.”
Levre placed the frame back on the shelf and returned to his desk. He activated the communication stone.
“You’re tracking Lloyd Moravetz’s whereabouts, correct?”
[Yes. Reports say he’s on leave from the Imperial Knights and has been drifting among the southern islands.]
“I see. We’ll move at once.”
It was time to dive into the murky waters to catch his prey.
“This is harder than I thought.”
Standing before the mirror, Kanoe brushed through her hair, now dyed black.
“‘With just a comb-through, dye your hair any color you like! Only three gold!’”
That’s how Lloyd had proudly introduced the brush he’d procured, saying it was essential for fugitives like them.
She had no idea why a brush cost three gold, but she had to admit it was useful.
So, with tears in her eyes, she promised she’d pay him back someday, though their castaway life seemed to only pile up debts without a hint of income.
“Did you match with Jelly on purpose?”
As she finished brushing, Ian returned. Kanoe looked at him, puzzled.
“Match with Jelly? What do you mean…?”
Instead of answering, Ian held out his hand. Resting on it was the ash-colored jelly.
Her own hair had turned black from its usual sky-blue.
“Jelly, why are you coming back with Ian?”
Jelly averted its gaze and looked away. Pretending to be busy was its specialty.
“…I wonder what’s for dinner~”
“I heard the dining hall has beef stew and lobster as the special today,” Ian replied kindly.
Kanoe missed her chance to scold Jelly and stood there awkwardly.
Ian just shrugged lightly, then turned his head slowly. Their eyes met.
He smiled, tugging one corner of his lips upward.
“It suits you well.”
Kanoe Bluebell. For one fleeting moment, she seriously considered changing her name to Kanoe Blackbell.
