Chapter 86
“Then just to the carriage.”
She walked side by side with him across the dim garden.
There had been countless times when she was with Gide in silence, but for some reason, today felt a bit awkward.
‘Because I said something unnecessary earlier.’
Rita brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen forward. She felt like tying it all up. Gide, who had been silent, glanced at her.
“Come to think of it, Rita.”
“Hm?”
“My cravat—aren’t you going to return it?”
“Ah.”
She had completely forgotten. Seeing her expression, Gide teased.
“So you weren’t planning to return it at all? I know I’m a rich crown prince, but isn’t that a bit much?”
“I forgot. I’ve been all over the place lately. Even got misunderstood because of it…”
“Misunderstood? What do you mean?”
Rita frowned involuntarily, recalling Richard’s reaction to seeing the cravat tied in her hair.
“Nothing. Don’t ask.”
“Hmm.”
Gide narrowed his eyes and raised the corners of his lips. That “I-know-everything” look on his face was so annoying she almost smacked his arm or back, but she lowered her hand.
‘I should really start keeping my distance.’
Of course, he picked up on it instantly and opened his mouth.
“Why did you stop yourself from hitting me, Rita?”
“You want to get hit?”
“If it’s from you, I don’t mind.”
“Geez, you never stop talking nonsense. Anyway, I’ll wash the cravat and send it back later.”
“Send it? What, like have it delivered to the Onyx Palace?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“Just give it to me in person next time.”
“When’s that going to be? Oh, at next month’s garden salon?”
“That’s cold, Rita. You’re planning to not see me for a whole month? After we finally met again after all these years?”
Gide leaned in with a pitiful expression. It was obvious he was faking it, so Rita pushed his face away with a dry chuckle.
“A month will go by in no time. I won’t be able to meet you anyway if I’m working on a strategy to approach the Grand Duke.”
“…You don’t need to avoid me though. The Grand Duke won’t be the only one attending the Frontier Festival.”
Held in mid-May, the Frontier Festival was one of the three major events of the Empire’s social season. It commemorated the time when the founding emperor, along with the legendary black dragon, drove out monsters and established the capital, Ramcard.
Because it commemorated both conquest and settlement, it was held in the forests on the outskirts of the capital as a monster hunting competition hosted by the imperial family. Nearly all nobles participated, and naturally, the crown prince would attend as host and award presenter.
“You can give it back then, okay?”
Gide cooed sweetly and fluttered his lashes. Anyone else would’ve cringed, but Rita was used to it. She wrinkled her brow.
“Fine, just stop with the creepy cuteness, Gide Pascal.”
“But it works so well! You just agreed, didn’t you?”
“You’re seriously shameless…”
Rita trailed off, suddenly shivering.
The scent of patchouli.
At the same time, Gideon murmured in a low voice.
“Rita, Beacon Garden doesn’t use patchouli.”
He added in a whisper.
“Never.”
Beyond the well-maintained shrubs, they glimpsed the Laskail carriage.
But the coachman and Lindsey, who were supposed to be waiting, were nowhere in sight. In the eerie silence, the only thing that lingered was the soft scent of patchouli.
Rita immediately gestured.
‘I’ll go front, you take rear.’
Gide nodded slightly in understanding.
She reached toward her thigh, then remembered the gift Olivia had given her today and placed her hand on her bracelet. Silver Grace quietly slid out.
Rita gripped her revolver and silently approached the carriage door. Gide crouched low and moved to the driver’s seat side, heading to the opposite end.
She lowered her body, grasped the handle. No sign of movement inside.
Still, she couldn’t be careless. Some named monsters didn’t give off a presence even when visible.
A flicker of light beneath the carriage briefly flared, then disappeared. It was Gide’s portable magic lamp signal from across.
Two flashes then darkness—Beacon’s signal for “ready.”
Rita dropped her hand beneath the carriage. A processed orb of light floated like a firefly, passed under the carriage, and fell to the ground where Gide could see. She’d measured the light to extinguish in three seconds.
‘One, two…’
Three.
The moment it vanished, they yanked open the carriage doors.
“……”
“……”
They exchanged exasperated glances at the empty interior. Gide shrugged.
“Nothing here.”
“But the scent remains.”
“Who was supposed to be waiting?”
“Two. A male coachman in his 40s, about 170 cm tall, wearing a leather flat cap, checkered vest, long leather boots, large nose, brown hair, short beard. The other was a female secretary in her 20s, about the same height, black jacket, cream blouse, black trousers, black ponytail, black eyes, beauty mark under her right eye, daggers inside her right sleeve and left ankle boot.”
“A secretary carrying daggers?”
“She doubles as security.”
“Got it. Let’s search.”
“Don’t you have any guards or aides waiting?”
“I was late, came alone.”
“A crown prince coming alone. Impressive.”
There was no need for lengthy discussion. They shared key info and moved quietly. Following the scent of patchouli led them to a side door for staff at the edge of Beacon Garden.
Rita silently aimed her gun at the door as Gide, crouching, grasped the knob. The door creaked open with a rusty hinge.
Streetlamp light spilled in, revealing a storeroom-like space. Rita lowered her gun.
“No immediate threats. There’s another door to the front left—looks like it leads to the garden.”
“Think they went inside?”
“Probably. But no traces around here. Too clean.”
“A shapeshifter or camouflage-type?”
“Could be a charm-type. I’ll set a smoke screen. If it’s an auditory charm, block your ears.”
Gide grabbed the door leading into the garden. Rita followed, loading a blank round with processed light magic to create smoke.
“Loaded.”
“Confirmed. Breaching.”
Rita aimed again. Gide opened the door.
Nothing jumped out.
“…It’s clear. Come on in.”
Gideon entered first, checked the surroundings, and signaled. Rita lowered her revolver and stepped in.
Beacon Garden was still and silent, its business and salon hours long over. Moonlight poured in through the glass ceiling, the only source of illumination.
The air was humid, rich with the scent of flowers and plants. Gide wrinkled his nose.
“It’s masking the dissolution scent.”
“Of course it’s a greenhouse—or rather, a flower shop.”
“Dissolution scent” was another term for patchouli in the Age of Ashes. It was the smell monsters released while digesting humans, hence the grim nickname.
Rita inhaled the mingled floral aroma and surveyed the dark, vast garden, frowning.
“We should find Senior Ise and regroup. He knows this layout—”
“Wait.”
Gideon held a finger to his lips. Rita immediately went silent and crouched.
They heard faint footsteps beyond a flowerbed overgrown with tall grass. Quiet steps.
With exchanged glances, Gide signaled her and circled around toward the sound. Rita followed a few steps behind, stopping at the corner and listening.
“Ah!”
Someone gasped at Gide’s sudden appearance. Then came a familiar voice.
“Your Highness the Crown Prince? Why are you here?”
Lindsey Dice’s voice. After brief hesitation, Rita stepped out.
Gide, having memorized her description, had already identified Lindsey, arms folded, facing her in surprise. Seeing Lindsey unharmed, Rita sighed in relief.
“Lindsey, what are you doing here?”
“Master!”
Lindsey spotted her and exclaimed with wide eyes, then grumbled.
“That’s what I should ask! The salon is over, and everyone went home, but you didn’t come out, so I got worried and came looking.”
As Lindsey approached, grumbling, Rita narrowed her eyes and muttered.
“Gide. Restrain her.”
Gide moved instantly. He grabbed Lindsey’s arm mid-step, twisted it, kicked her knee, and forced her down. Lindsey, stunned at being restrained by the Crown Prince, looked up at them in disbelief.
“Your Highness? Master?”
