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Chapter 20
Rattiger stood staring at the abandoned greenhouse tucked away in a corner of the Godell Marquisate.
A foul smell of manure wafted in the air. A sign at the entrance read:
“Outbreak of Flower Wilt Disease – Absolutely No Entry!”
Unless someone wanted to infect their own home, they wouldn’t dare enter.
But Rattiger’s wave-colored eyes spotted the “treasure” hidden inside.
Soon, an ice bridge formed over broken glass, smashed flowerpots, and dried vines. Without leaving a single footprint, Rattiger stepped into the greenhouse.
At the center of a fortune tree as wide as a handspan, a faint glow shimmered—visible only to Rattiger.
“Well hidden.”
With a dagger, Rattiger split the trunk of the tree. From within, a lupé (magnifying lens) the size of a thumb rolled out.
A thick lens encased in intricately carved buffalo horn—an object valuable even as a piece of craftsmanship.
“But that’s not what matters.”
Rattiger lifted the lupé like a telescope and looked toward the mansion. There, at the very core of the estate, a faint pearly trace shimmered—mana pearl residue.
Mana pearls. Precious ores where the energy that powers the world, mana, was concentrated. It was common for nobles to embed several into their estates to ensure comfort.
But mana pearls weren’t common—and tools that could detect them, mana pearl detectors, were even rarer.
Like the lupé now in Rattiger’s hand.
“So the Marquis of Godell managed to get a mana pearl detector. Did he obtain it through his contract with the Lifram Monastery?”
Well, it didn’t matter how he got it—Rattiger intended to steal it anyway.
He slipped a regular lupé he’d brought into the tree trunk and wrapped the real detector in ice before tucking it into his coat.
He was used to the cold.
…And also, to sensing killing intent.
“…Of course. There wouldn’t be no guards.”
A short sigh escaped from between Rattiger’s rough lips.
Soon, two large black dogs bared their teeth at the greenhouse entrance. Or more accurately—magical hounds. Ferocious beasts bred from mixing dogs with monsters.
Their double-layered, shark-like teeth were vicious. Most people would collapse at the sight—but for Rattiger, they were hardly a threat.
The problem was, they could bark and summon people.
“I laced the wine at the banquet with a sedative, but I can’t count on just that.”
A stronger dose might’ve knocked people out—creating chaos. So he kept it mild, just enough to make guests drowsy.
Most wouldn’t react to dogs barking outside. But the servants? Different story.
And certainly not the Marquis, who had treasures to protect.
“Well, too late to back out now.”
Rattiger raised a hand, as if to provoke the magical hounds. The dagger at his fingertips glinted sharply.
The beasts didn’t hesitate—they lunged straight for his throat and wrist.
“Efficient.”
Well-trained, clearly. But that would only hasten their end. Going for the obvious spots meant they’d be in obvious places.
Two spears of ice materialized midair and pierced the magical hounds cleanly. They didn’t even get to scream.
Rattiger tossed the corpses into a pile of compost. The very compost meant to deter intruders was now helping one.
The irony made him curl one corner of his lip. But the smile didn’t last long.
“Grrrr…”
From the shadows, a third and fourth hound emerged.
One snarled viciously. The other, sensing Rattiger’s killing intent, tucked its tail between its legs. That was worse.
A scared dog…
“Grrrr… Woof! Woof!”
…would bark to call for help.
“Damn.”
The barking dog was silenced immediately. But the sound had traveled. Off in the distance, near the servants’ guard post, lights flared on.
“How many do I have to kill before things quiet down?”
It was best to kill as few as possible.
Not because Rattiger had a conscience. Just because clean-up was more annoying the more bodies there were.
Besides… if things went south, that kid attending the banquet for the first time might end up as a hostage—
“No. Why should I care?”
Rattiger shook his head to brush away thoughts of Sol. Kids were everywhere. If one got caught, so what?
…And yet.
Even though he’d shaken the thought away…
“…Sol?”
What was that girl doing at the edge of the garden path, staring at him?
He wanted to write it off as a hallucination, but dignity be damned—the girl running toward him, grasping her skirt, was definitely Sol.
Even her shrill voice shooting straight at him—
“Duke! What did you do? You killed the dogs?! Don’t you know villains who kill dogs in movies always die painfully and pathetically? What’s wrong with you?!”
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about. I was treasure-hunting. Why are you out here?”
“You never said to stay inside! And it looks like people are coming—you can’t clean this up alone, right?”
The torchlight from the servants’ post was growing closer. Rattiger reached for his ice sword, but Sol grabbed his hand.
“Sol. Don’t interfere.”
“You’re going to kill them all, right?”
“Yes.”
“No need to escalate this.”
With that cheeky remark, Sol crouched down and—suddenly shoved her arm into the mouth of a dead magical hound. Its sharp fangs immediately sank into her flesh.
Rattiger yelled without thinking.
“SOL!”
* * *
After pulling her arm from the hound’s jaws, a new concern popped into Sol’s mind.
Do magical hounds get rabies shots?
No way, right? Who writes rabid-dog storylines in fantasy romance?
…Surely I’m not the first?
Even while worrying, she glanced at Rattiger. Was he going to yell at her?
…Wait, he actually looks shocked.
Just then, the servants rushed over.
“What’s going on—Wha, Your Grace?!”
Before Rattiger could answer, Sol beat him to it.
“WAAAAAAAAH!”
“L-Lady?!”
“It huuuuuuurts! My arm huuuuuurts!”
No joke—it really did. Tears streamed down her face without effort.
While the servants flailed in panic, Sol ran up and hugged the Duke tightly.
“Daddy, the dog was so scary…”
“…”
“I’m sorry for wandering off… It’s my fault… but it really hurts…”
That should’ve been enough of a hint. Rattiger caught on and addressed the servants:
“The magical hound attacked my daughter. Just what kind of security are you running here?”
“Wh-what? That’s impossible! The hounds would never harm a guest!”
“Then how do you explain my daughter’s injuries?”
In the light of their torches, blood welled up from Sol’s forearm. She gave a teary-eyed explanation:
“I saw a pretty flower and tried to pick it… then the dogs came running. I’m sorry for touching the flowers… I’ll apologize to the Marquis later…”
“No, Sol. You don’t need to apologize.”
“Huh?”
Without warning, Rattiger lifted her up in his arms. Sol clung to him in surprise as her legs dangled in the air. His shirt stained with blood.
“Summon the Marquis’ personal physician to my room.”
“Pardon? B-but, by rule, the physician doesn’t attend to guests—”
“Call him. Before I make it necessary for him to come.”
The moment his low voice settled over the garden, the air snapped—ice crystals fluttered through the frost.
The servant understood the threat and bowed, trembling.
“Y-yes, sir!”
They scurried back toward the mansion. Whew—first crisis averted.
Once the coast was clear, Sol released her tight grip on the Duke.
“So, that’s it, right? We can go back now?”
“Yes. I found what I was looking for.”
“Thank goodness. Ugh… ow ow ow, it hurts like CRAZY! I’m never doing that again!”
Honestly, this hurt way more than stubbing her toe on a doorframe.
While Sol contorted in pain, Rattiger gave her a strange look.
“Sol… why on earth would you do something like that?”
“Hmm? To help. If I hadn’t, you’d have wiped out the whole mansion and probably killed me to erase evidence.”
“…”
No denial, huh. How did she get mixed up with this villain…
Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.
“Your Grace, see that white flower back there? Go pick it and hide it in your coat.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m sticking to the story that I was attacked while trying to pick that flower.”
“…”
“Now here’s the important part—listen and memorize. After I get treated and look all pitiful, you give me the flower and say…”
“What.”
“‘Daddy brought back what our Sol was looking for.’”
Rattiger pressed a hand to his forehead in disbelief.
“…Why?”
“Why do you think? Didn’t you want to break down the emotional walls of the nobles? This is the solution I came up with.”
“At the boutique, you talked nonstop and solved it yourself.”
“That’s not enough anymore. I need your help now.”
He muttered under his breath, “Ridiculous.”
Yeah, well—you’re not wrong. But this is your problem too.
“Exactly. That’s why it’ll work. This is the ‘daughter-fool’ concept.”
“Daughter-fool? Are you asking me to admit I’m a fool?”
Whoa, he looked genuinely offended. Has no one ever called him a fool before?
“When someone who’s always strong shows a human weakness, people lower their guard and start to like them.”
“…A weakness.”
Rattiger looked down at her. Blue eyes shimmering inches away.
“If I use you as my weakness… wouldn’t those trying to hurt me target you?”
“They might. But I’m not really your weakness, am I?”
“…”
Even if I disappeared, you wouldn’t care. So I just have to prove I’m useful enough that you would.
“It’ll take time, sure. A man like you pretending to have a weakness? Not believable at first.”
“…True.”
“So I’ll help out for a while—with the daughter-fool act.”
“…”
“Just look at my arm. Trust me a little, will you?”
Rattiger must’ve swallowed dryly at least three times while she spoke. What’s with all the hesitation? Is acting like a doting dad that humiliating?
But at last, he gave a nod.
“I’ll accept your plan.”
And with great care—so as not to damage a single petal—he picked the pure white flower Sol had described.
