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Chapter : 29
This Time, I Will Change the Male Lead
Part of the Morbel Trading Company was arrested at two o’clock on the third Sunday.
It was the exact date written in the letter.
“We weren’t able to wipe them out completely, but we captured most of the leadership, so the results are good, my lord.”
“……Is that so?”
“Yes. We’ll track down the rest of them soon.”
Espin shrugged his shoulders, clearly feeling refreshed.
“Oh, by the way, Sir Eil. What’s going to happen to Marquis Karl Bate? A noble—and a Holy Knight Commander at that—frequenting a slave market. Tsk, tsk.”
In addition to dismantling the Morbel Trading Company, there had been an unexpected gain.
Marquis Karl Bate had been present at the scene.
“This is rather tricky.”
Judging by the circumstances alone, he deserved immediate punishment.
“He was merely present, though. His subordinate participated in the auction, and he didn’t actually purchase a slave himself.”
Still, Eil clicked his tongue in frustration.
“On top of that, the High Priest is backing him up, saying he went there under his orders to assess the situation. Honestly…”
“So it’s that sly fox again? That strange man with a face that never seems to age even after living for two hundred years. Tsk.”
Karl Bate kidnapping a duke’s daughter in broad daylight would already have been enough to strip him of his title.
And yet, appearing at a slave market on top of that?
Normally, there would be no escape.
But the reason he could get away with it was simple.
He was the High Priest’s man.
“He’s been getting on my nerves lately.”
Hyperion spoke, leaning back in his chair with his legs crossed.
Truthfully, until recently, he hadn’t cared whether Karl belonged to the High Priest or not.
No—rather, he hadn’t even considered him worth caring about.
But Karl Bate had started to irritate him.
And that irritation began…
—
“Your Highness the Crown Prince, I hear you even invited the duke’s daughter here to bless us.”
“I’ll thank you on her behalf.”
—
Perhaps it had started then.
The sharp, firm line of Hyperion’s jaw tightened.
“But to think that letter was real… It’s strange. Who on earth sent it?”
“Could it be a whistleblower from the inside?”
Neither Espin nor Eil had any clear idea.
“My lord, doesn’t all of this seem too coincidental? Almost as if someone is deliberately helping us.”
“A coincidence?”
But Hyperion looked as though he had something in mind.
“Well… they say if someone appears just when you need them, it’s fate.”
On the other hand, he was curious.
How had Kaella Veritas known about it?
At the time Karl kidnapped her in the plaza, the Morbel Trading Company had indeed been active…
‘Well, it doesn’t really matter.’
He cut off the unnecessary thoughts.
If he grew curious, he could ask anytime.
That woman was by his side now—right next to him.
Hyperion let out a low laugh, feeling inexplicably pleased.
“My lord, if we ever find out who it was, I’d like to give them a reward. Thanks to them, a problem that plagued us for months has been resolved.”
“The more I think about it, the more impressive it is. No—perhaps I should say clever.”
Eil clicked his tongue and shook his head.
“Because the letter was anonymous, everyone will assume it was an internal betrayal. That means even those who secretly maintained close ties will begin to distrust each other.”
“Oh? You’re right. Everyone who knew about the Morbel Trading Company will start suspecting one another—grabbing each other by the collar and accusing them of betrayal! Hahaha!”
Espin burst into hearty laughter and rubbed his chin.
“Whoever it is, they’re remarkable.”
As they said, once trust collapses within a secret organization, everything falls apart.
The fact that a single letter destroyed not only the organization but also the trust within it was admirable.
“Congratulations, Your Highness.”
Eil found himself admiring Hyperion as he gazed out the window.
Golden hair softly scattered in the afternoon sunlight, long lashes lowered gently…
Even as a man, Eil thought it was an extraordinary face.
“I told you, Eil.”
Hyperion slowly turned his head.
“That I married well.”
Saying something no one else could understand, Hyperion gave a faint smirk.
“Who on earth sent that letter?! If it weren’t for the High Priest, you wouldn’t have gotten away either, Karl!”
“Please calm down, Saintess.”
“Calm down?! Do you think this is a situation where I can calm down? We almost got exposed for visiting a slave market! And not just anyone—Hyperion!”
Phoebe bit her lip anxiously, unable to hide her agitation.
“If Hyperion had found out… just imagining it is horrifying.”
After hearing that the Morbel Trading Company had been arrested and that Karl had nearly been implicated, she had become unusually sharp.
“To make matters worse, the Ratan slave we searched so hard for was snatched right before our eyes… Nothing has been going my way lately. Haa…”
Phoebe, who had been pacing restlessly, stopped.
“Oh, right. So—have they identified who sent the letter?”
“Aiden said the handwriting was feminine. And that it was the script of a noble.”
Karl answered with a serious expression, just as shaken.
“Since His Highness is personally keeping the note, Aiden said it’s difficult to investigate further.”
“What? Hyperion is keeping the note himself?”
“Yes. He apparently takes it out and looks at it from time to time…”
Phoebe’s eyes wavered once more.
The Hyperion she knew would never do such a thing.
He had never cared about such trivial matters.
He wasn’t someone who would store a note in a drawer or look at it for no reason.
“A woman… and a noblewoman at that…”
She murmured absentmindedly for a long while.
“Since she did him such a great service, Hyperion might try to find her.”
“Even if not openly, wouldn’t he at least try to narrow it down? It was something important to him.”
“Who could it be? Karl, does anyone come to mind?”
Karl frowned, recalling his memories.
—
“Eight thousand lots. Any higher?”
“Then… ten thousand.”
—
The day a noblewoman had taken the Ratan slave from him.
“I suspect the information leaked that day, when the Ratan slave was taken.”
Karl let out a shallow sigh.
“I should have stayed near the trading company… but I ran into Kaella.”
“…Lady Veritas?”
Phoebe let out a cold, humorless laugh.
“Ah, the day Hyperion personally went to rescue her.”
She remembered it clearly.
No—she could never forget it.
At first, she hadn’t believed the news that Hyperion not only rescued the duke’s daughter but returned to the palace with her.
But when she realized it was true, it felt as if her world had shaken.
“Yes. That’s right. His Highness appeared suddenly, so we couldn’t speak properly.”
Growing frustrated even in hindsight, Karl undid a couple of buttons on his shirt.
“It’s strange… You said the person who bought the Ratan slave that day was also a noblewoman.”
Phoebe spoke while staring at the glowing embers in the brazier.
“And the handwriting of the letter sent to Leon is that of a noblewoman… And on that very day, Kaella Veritas was near the plaza.”
“Are you suggesting… that woman could have been Kaella?”
Karl shook his head firmly.
“No.”
He knew Phoebe had been sensitive lately, but this was absurd.
“Kaella probably doesn’t even know such a world exists behind the Empire. She’s far too innocent.”
A girl raised under the protection of a ducal household would never go to a slave market herself.
“And I saw the woman who bought the Ratan slave. Not up close, but still… her clothing was different from Kaella’s that day.”
“Karl, that kind of thing…”
Suddenly, Phoebe turned and stared at him.
“…doesn’t matter.”
Her gaze was calm—yet chilling.
“I don’t care who bought the slave. What matters is that Leon knows Kaella Veritas was at that slave market that day!”
Her sharp eyes locked onto Karl.
“What if Kaella says she overheard the information by chance? What if she claims she sent the letter herself to help Leon?”
“……That would—”
“And what if Hyperion actually believes her?”
Phoebe grew more agitated.
The image of the two of them gazing at each other was vividly etched in her mind.
Eyes she had never seen before. Expressions she had never witnessed.
Whispers meant only for the two of them—ones she could never hear.
“No. Absolutely not.”
“…Saintess.”
Karl found her current state unfamiliar.
He had always known that Phoebe grew sensitive when it came to Hyperion.
But since Kaella appeared, that sensitivity had begun to feel pathological.
“Even if I have to lie and say I wrote the letter myself… I can’t let this continue.”
Phoebe gently brushed her golden hair back.
“Who sent the letter doesn’t matter.”
Her hair resembled Hyperion’s—that was why she cherished it most.
“What matters is that Leon is curious about her.”
The thought that Hyperion had a woman he was curious about—one who might even be connected to Kaella—was unbearable.
‘This can’t go on.’
She knew she became foolish whenever she stood before Hyperion.
She knew the High Priest would scold her once he returned from his pilgrimage prayers if she acted rashly.
“Karl.”
But it couldn’t be helped.
“Don’t forget that I’ve prepared a gift for you at the Holy Tower.”
The only woman who should receive Hyperion’s attention… was herself.
“Tomorrow.”
Because that was love.
Phoebe smiled gently.
