~Chapter 39~
Ah… this was bad.
Whatever this was, it was bad.
Floria felt like she had been completely tricked.
She left her outstretched hand hanging helplessly, and Caspar slumped his shoulders.
His face was hidden by the mask, so she couldn’t see his expression, but his voice carried a clear gloom.
“Floria, are you really not going to help me? I’d been looking forward to today so much.”
His voice was so downcast it almost sounded pitiful.
“I ran here the moment you said you’d help me… and it turns out to be a lie. At this rate, you’ll become a Saintess, and I’ll die of heartbreak…”
“Or you’ll just get caught at another slave auction?”
Caspar froze mid-complaint.
Floria could almost see his drooping eyes suddenly lifting, his lips tugging into a sly smirk.
She read him perfectly. She didn’t need to listen to any more nonsense.
“You really are sharp. Yes, it is a slave market. But this time, I won’t get caught.”
Why was he going there again?!
Floria nearly screamed.
She wanted to grab her hair and yank it out, but she remembered the time Caspar had stopped her from doing just that by holding her hands down.
Why does he obsess over slaves like this?
He’d acted as if it were urgent, but in the end, it was all about going to the slave market.
Maybe his past as a slave still haunted him. Or maybe there was someone he desperately wanted to rescue.
Judging by how serious he sounded, it was probably the latter.
Floria burned to ask, but her pride wouldn’t let her.
…And yet, she didn’t refuse to go with him either.
She wanted to know why. Why he was so drawn to the slave market, why he was so fixated on slavery.
Well, too late now. She had already agreed to help.
She tried to rationalize it to herself as she straightened her posture on the seat cushion.
That was when Caspar spoke again.
“I’m going to steal the slave market’s ledgers. The High Priest is tied up in them.”
“…Huh? What?”
Her eyes blinked rapidly.
A headache flared, and she pressed her fingers hard against her temple.
But as she replayed his words, she realized—
If they obtained those ledgers, they would finally have proof. The kind of evidence that could expose and oust the High Priest.
One ledger wouldn’t be enough to topple him completely. But it was a start.
She had climbed into the carriage not knowing anything… but now she saw it really was urgent. And it was exactly the sort of evidence she herself needed.
“You’re sure you won’t get caught?”
“Yes.”
“And we’ll be back by dawn tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
“….”
He sounded so confident that she forced herself to accept it.
Still, something else gnawed at her.
Floria pointed anxiously out the carriage window.
Outside, Shade was smiling faintly and waving at her.
“…Is it really okay to just leave Rose alone like that? What if Shade tries to steal her holy power…?”
“That won’t happen.”
Caspar’s reply was sharp and firm.
Floria clamped her mouth shut.
Maybe Caspar had threatened Shade with death if he tried anything. But even so, she couldn’t feel completely at ease.
She knew about the spirit race called Catshi—creatures that would one day become fashionable as companions. They survived by tricking people into thinking they were mere animals. And even if their true identity was exposed, threats never worked on them.
Curiosity was in their nature. If they wanted to try something, they simply would.
So even if Shade was quiet now, there was no telling what he might do when his curiosity overflowed.
The carriage rattled forward. Floria pressed her face to the window, searching for reassurance.
There had to be some way to keep Shade in check…
“Spirits always take risks, even knowing they might die,” Caspar said lazily. His tone was cold, almost cruel.
“…W-what? That’s terrible—ah!”
Floria shot up in alarm, ready to demand the driver stop the carriage immediately.
The carriage jolted violently. She lost her balance, nearly tumbling.
“…!”
Caspar caught her by the waist and eased her back into her seat—so quickly it was almost instinctive.
Her eyes blinked slowly, stunned by the sudden contact, before she sat ramrod straight again.
Meanwhile, Caspar leaned back casually, legs crossed, as if nothing had happened.
“I set up a protective barrier over your quarters. Even if you left the door open all day, Shade couldn’t get inside.”
“…I see.”
She cleared her throat awkwardly and looked away.
The carriage creaked and rattled onward.
***
Clunk!
The carriage came to a full stop.
This time, Floria didn’t go flying.
Ha! Knew it.
She had been clutching the door tightly, well prepared.
On the way here, she had nearly toppled several times, and Caspar had caught her more than once. Each time had been unbearably embarrassing.
But not this time. This time she was ready.
She even smirked in triumph.
Caspar, who had half-raised his arms as if to catch her, frowned slightly. He looked displeased for reasons she didn’t understand. But the expression vanished quickly.
He rummaged behind the seat and pulled out a wig.
It was a common brown wig, the sort any woman in the city might wear.
“Here, Floria. Put this on. Your hair makes you too recognizable as Priestess Floria.”
Well… I am Floria, she thought, biting back the sarcastic retort.
She accepted the wig. But then she heard a rustle from the other side of the carriage.
Naturally, she assumed Caspar was also disguising himself. She glanced up without thinking—
Thud.
The wig slipped from her hand.
“…Your Grace, what are you doing?”
“Putting on a wig.”
“Yes, but… that…”
Floria stared at what he was fiddling with.
It wasn’t the brown wig she’d been given.
It was a soft, wavy, pink wig.
He put it on without hesitation, gently sweeping the pink locks over his shoulder.
Floria recoiled in shock.
“Wha—why?!”
Her mind went blank.
“Because I can’t risk my identity being exposed this time.”
“…But why a woman’s wig? And why pink?”
“Oh, it’s just a color I personally like.”
That wasn’t the point!
If he was going to cross-dress, couldn’t he at least change his voice too? His deep, commanding voice clashed horribly with the girlish pink wig.
Any passing dog would faint from the dissonance.
…
Stay calm. Don’t try to understand his thought process.
Floria forced herself to put on her own wig properly.
But when Caspar removed the mask hiding his face—
“Kyaaah!”
She shrieked and shoved herself as far back as she could in the cramped carriage, covering her mouth.
Even with her own eyes staring right at him, she couldn’t believe what she saw.
His sharp, angular features… transformed.
Well, not transformed exactly. His natural sharpness was still there.
But now, with black eyeliner traced along the corners of his eyes, his gaze looked colder, more cutting.
And paired with his slightly upturned lips and faintly red, glossy mouth…
There was no mistaking it.
Caspar was in full drag.
