ISKC 02

Chapter 2

What kind of people were the Black Iron Knights?

They were the ones who, during six long years of war with the Kingdom of Beimar, left mountains of corpses in their wake and turned rivers into blood. The men infamous for those horrifying tales.

And the one sitting before her was their leader.

He was about to take her straight into the wolves’ den.

Damn it.

Rozalin’s mind spun faster than it ever had in this life—or her last.

I need to escape before we reach the knights’ headquarters.

Because once she arrived… it was over.

She scanned her surroundings.

Clatter, clatter.

She was inside a carriage.

It might have seemed like luxury treatment for a criminal, but outside, armored knights surrounded them in an iron wall.

And directly across from her sat the Reaper of the Battlefield himself.

How the hell am I supposed to get out of this?

Rozalin forced herself to remain calm. The first step was always to tackle what was closest.

That meant him. Cassis.

“Sir Cassis.”

The man who had been resting with his eyes closed slowly lifted his lids. His indifferent gaze landed on her.

What is with that atmosphere?

Just meeting his eyes made her heart jolt.

From this close, she had to admit—his features were strikingly handsome. Yet his beauty barely registered, buried under the freezing aura he radiated.

His eyes were like fragments of a frozen sea. His lips, pressed into silence, seemed carved from frost.

Never in her lives had Rozalin encountered someone with such a glacial presence.

It was worth noting.

She had, after all, faced more than her share of intimidating people. In this life as the master of an intelligence guild. In her previous life as a police detective.

(Ah, curious how a former cop ended up running a guild skirting the lines of law and crime? That’s a long, tragic story best left for another time.)

Her first life could be summed up in a single phrase:

“A hellish struggle ending in a bad ending.”

She’d realized she’d been given a second chance early in childhood. But that didn’t mean the difficulty had lessened.

She had started once again as an orphan in the slums.

What’s the point of being a cop in a past life?

If a ragged street kid had dared to claim she could help the city guard catch criminals, she’d have been beaten bloody and tossed out.

Knowledge of 21st-century Earth? Her professional know-how as a detective?

That didn’t help put food in her mouth.

Every day was a battle just to survive.

One day, while scrubbing floors in a tavern, trouble broke out.

“This is robbery!”

“Oh, look at this guy asking for law. Around here, we are the law.”

Massive thugs loomed over the owner, fists raised.

The debt he owed had doubled overnight. Extortion like this was nothing unusual in the slums. Around here, fists decided justice.

And bigger fists meant stronger justice.

The air turned ugly. Rozalin slipped quietly toward the back door. Her small frame came in handy.

Moments later, she burst back in through the front, eyes wide in mock panic.

“Mister! Big trouble! The Reaper’s here!”

“What? Shit! Boys, scram! Old man, you better thank your luck!”

The thugs who’d been seconds away from smashing skulls bolted like startled rabbits.

The “Reaper” was the nickname everyone feared most—the knights. Black Steel, Black Iron, whatever their real name was.

The tavern owner turned pale and motioned frantically.

“Roz! Get inside quick! What if they see you?”

She calmly replied:

“It was a lie.”

“What?”

“I only said that to scare them off.”

The man gave a half-laugh, half-sigh. A girl of barely ten had pulled it off with ease.

The next day, when the thugs came back, Rozalin pulled the same trick.

“You know it’s death by law to break interest limits, right? Double-checking—are you ready for execution?”

“What’s this brat saying?”

“They say the knights are cracking down lately… one wrong move and—slice.”

Her trembling act was so convincing no one doubted it. Except, of course, the tavern owner, who knew the truth.

Thanks to her bluff, his shop was spared.

“Thank you, truly. I thought I’d lose everything.”

He didn’t just stop at words. He used his connections to get her a public job.

Rozalin became a cleaning maid in a library. Pay was decent, conditions safe.

And in between sweeping, she read. Especially law.

Knowledge was precious, and law was terrifyingly complex to most. But to Rozalin, it was power.

She began helping people in the slums with their disputes. Partly thanks to her detective’s conscience:

“I could never walk away from someone being treated unfairly.”

Soon, she became indispensable in her community.

And then it clicked—nobody made better spies than the poor.

Who paid attention to a maid stoking the fireplace, overhearing every word?

With her network in the slums and modern knowledge, Rozalin realized she was born for intelligence work.

Thus she founded her guild.

She named it Hyde.

At first, it was just a way to live more comfortably.

She hadn’t expected it to become the greatest intelligence guild in the empire.

But all of that aside…

Even after years of facing people, she had never met anyone like the man across from her.

Rozalin flashed a bright smile.

A smile disarms. No one spits on a smiling face.

“I’ve heard so much of your reputation. It’s an honor to finally meet you.”

Compliments could move even whales, after all. And it wasn’t a lie—she had heard his name countless times. Enough that he felt more like an old acquaintance than a stranger.

The only issue was that he was more like an old enemy.

In Hyde, Cassis Aindert was Priority Number One.

But—

…Why isn’t he saying anything?

Cassis didn’t even twitch at the lips.

The type who doesn’t bother speaking to anyone below nobility?

He was, after all, heir to a ducal family. Rozalin was nothing but a commoner. Worse, technically still a criminal under supervision.

But if he truly despised her status, would he even be riding in the same carriage?

Fine. If he won’t talk, I’ll just do it for both of us.

Rozalin smiled even brighter.

“I’ve heard so much of your glory that even a foolish little woman like me was swept away. I’ve long admired you, Sir Cassis.”

She didn’t mean a word of it. But in this world, stuffed with people clinging to archaic values, such flattery was expected.

Still, Cassis didn’t react. No pride, no irritation. Nothing.

Hmm.

Rozalin subtly adjusted her skirts and rose—only to sit down again, this time beside him.

Now, inside the sealed carriage, a man and woman sat side by side, alone.

Any normal man would have felt a shift in the air.

But Cassis stared straight ahead, indifferent.

Rozalin edged closer, until their thighs brushed.

Still nothing.

He’s really going to ignore me?

She glanced at his chiseled profile and whispered into his ear:

“To be this close… it’s like a dream.”

Her slender fingers brushed his shoulder.

Anyone watching would have called it bold, even scandalous.

At last, Cassis turned to look at her.

His eyes were deep as the ocean, utterly still, without a single ripple.

“Sir Cassis.”

Their faces were close enough that a small tilt would have brought her lips to his.

Rozalin’s crimson gaze locked onto his, burning bright.

Her fingers slid down from his shoulder. Over the solid chest beneath his uniform. Drifting lower, toward his side—

“I want to know you better, Sir Cassis.”

Her voice caressed the air like velvet.

His eyes lowered slowly, lids veiling the blue depths.

Could it be working?

Rozalin’s heart leapt. She knew every detail of Cassis Aindert’s file. He never appeared in society. He was rumored to have no relations with women.

If he’s truly inexperienced… then this could be easy.

Her hand slid further, nearing his thigh—

“Pointless.”

Rozalin froze.

His blue eyes lifted again, calm and cold, locking on hers.

“If you’re looking for the key to your shackles, you won’t find it down there.”

At some point, his gloved hand had closed firmly around her wrist.