Chapter 60
After confirming the two men were gone, I finally managed to speak.
Of course, my voice was barely above a whisper—just enough for Edmund, who was holding me, to hear.
“How did you…?”
“I woke up and saw you weren’t there.”
“Then why would you do something so dangerous?”
Edmund gave me a look that practically said, Seriously?
“I could throw that question right back at you.”
“…Ah.”
Fair point. I didn’t really have an excuse for sneaking off.
“I just… heard a strange sound while I was half-asleep. Oh—right. This troupe—they’re actually slave traders.”
“I caught the tail end of their conversation. Something about selling us off.”
Edmund’s crimson eyes glinted with a deadly sharpness. Honestly, it was scarier than Juto’s beastly glare earlier.
“Good thing they don’t know you’re a woman.”
“But you’re still in danger. They clearly plan to sell you, most of all.”
He stared at me, then asked quietly:
“So… you’re worried about me?”
“Of course! Didn’t you hear them? They said they want to sell you as a slave.”
The brutal reality of this rotten world crashed down again, just when I’d almost forgotten.
This really is the grim, hopeless novel I remember.
And yet Edmund… smiled. He was supposed to be the one in danger, and here he was, grinning like a kid who’d just been given candy.
“Do you even understand what’s happening?” I hissed.
“Of course.”
“Then why are you smiling like that?”
He sighed dramatically.
“Sometimes, I can’t decide if it’s a blessing or a curse.”
“What is?”
“How unbelievably oblivious you are… in this one area.”
I blinked at him. I had no idea what he meant.
But there wasn’t time to dwell on it. I told him everything I’d learned.
“That little covered wagon? There’s a beastkin child locked inside.”
“So that growling was…”
His face hardened.
Beastkin usually lived in the northern forests, and the closest human domain to them was none other than the Duchy of Lamberto. The Lamberto family had long-standing ties with beastkin, since they’d fought monsters side by side for generations.
Right. In the original story, Juto and Edmund had a strong bond, too.
Both even ended up liking the heroine, if I remembered correctly.
Well, since Edmund and Juto are destined to meet anyway, why not introduce them early? Meeting Willace ahead of schedule worked out fine.
But Edmund’s reaction surprised me.
“…Don’t tell me you’re planning to rescue that kid too?”
“What?”
His tone was grim, almost dismissive. I’d thought he would be the one pushing to save Juto, not me.
Then I remembered: this Edmund had never been to Lamberto, never met Juto, and knew nothing of the beastkin alliance.
But Juto could be a powerful ally for him later!
And besides, I’d seen him. A scrawny twelve-year-old child, chained like an animal, licking crumbs off his fingers because he was starving.
Edmund cut me off sharply.
“No.”
“But—”
“I won’t risk your safety again.”
His voice was unyielding, like stone. He had no intention of changing his mind.
It wasn’t logic, it wasn’t caution—it was that my safety mattered more to him than anything else.
My face grew hot.
Not the time, not the time!
I shook my head to clear it and leaned close to whisper.
“Listen. I’ve got a plan…”
And I laid out my idea in detail.
***
The next morning, the slavers-posing-as-performers were stunned by an unexpected scene.
“What… what’s all this?”
The supposedly naïve family they’d planned to sell off was suddenly… offering them breakfast.
Specifically, the “mother” had rolled up her sleeves and insisted on preparing a feast for the entire troupe.
Including a generous portion of venison the eldest son had hunted just that morning.
“I may not look it now, but I once worked as a cook in a noble household. Please, accept this. It’s the least I can do to thank you!”
A huge pot of stew bubbled merrily, sending mouthwatering aromas drifting through the camp.
The slavers, of course, felt no guilt at all about taking advantage of such fools.
Ha! These idiots are practically begging to be robbed!
Talk about easy prey!
And the stew… was delicious.
“You really do have a gift!”
“This is so much better than the inn’s food!”
“Truly, you worked for nobles?”
The leader and his men exchanged sly looks.
So the older woman might fetch more than we thought. If she’s a noble cook, even better.
And once we sell that beastkin brat too, we’ll make a fortune.
Satisfied, they licked their bowls clean. Full bellies, happy tongues.
And then, suddenly… crushing drowsiness overtook them.
***
One by one, they slumped to the ground, unconscious.
The nanny finally dropped her act, spitting on the ground.
“So it’s true. They really are slavers. Of all the wretches to travel with…!”
Willace sighed heavily. He was the one who’d laced the stew with a powerful sleeping draught.
“Good thing Young Master and Lady Cassia uncovered it in time.”
“How long will they be out?”
“I made it strong. They’ll be dead to the world until tomorrow at least.”
While Willace and Edmund tied the slavers up with their own ropes, I hurried to the covered wagon.
I knocked gently.
“You okay in there?”
“…Here.”
The faint reply made me exhale in relief.
“Bring me a knife!” I shouted back.
The canvas was cut away, revealing Juto’s pitiful state: thin to the bone, his neck and limbs shackled with iron, chains fixed to the wagon frame.
The nanny let out a horrified gasp.
“Children… they’d even enslave children?! Monsters!”
She kicked one of the unconscious men in fury. He didn’t stir.
Edmund, scowling, rifled through the bald leader’s body and came back with a ring of keys.
The locks clicked open, one after another.
Slowly, Juto stepped out, eyes wary, body tense.
I crouched to meet his gaze.
“It’s okay. You’re free now.”
“Free…? Me?”
“Yes.”
The boy glanced around, sniffing the air, then growled at the unconscious slavers. His stomach rumbled loudly.
“Smells… good! Hungry!”
He darted toward the stew pot, but I grabbed him just in time.
“No! If you eat that, you’ll end up like them.”
“…Eat, then sleep?”
“Exactly.”
“…Trust. You. No sleep. No danger.”
Just like that, he believed me.
For a beastkin prince—someone raised to distrust humans, someone who’d already been brutalized by slavers—that was no small thing.
He trusted me.
I smiled softly and ruffled his messy golden hair.
“Smart boy, Juto.”
He blinked up at me with bright golden eyes, tilting his head like a curious puppy.
My heart squeezed at how adorable he looked.
“Too cute!”
It took everything in me not to scoop him up and snuggle him right then and there.
Instead, he asked earnestly:
“Name. Want know. Benefactor’s name.”
“Me?”
“Yes. I am Juto. Want know benefactor’s name.”
I scratched my cheek awkwardly.
“Well… this is our nanny, Miriam. That’s Willace. And this here is Edmund.”
Juto’s golden eyes flicked over each of them, uninterested. Then he fixed back on me.
“No. Want know you.”
“…Cassia.”
“Cassia. Cassia.”
He rolled it around in his mouth, then beamed.
“Remembered. Benefactor’s name.”
Then he threw himself into my arms, hugging me tightly.
“Cassia!”
I froze, then instinctively wrapped my arms around him.
And right in front of us, Edmund’s crimson eyes flared with sparks of jealousy.
