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Chapter: 12
Ceria narrowed her eyes and read the shape of Teodoro’s mouth.
“Just wait a little.”
Wait? There were at least five visible thieves—what did he think he could do?
Whether he knew how flustered Ceria was or not, Teodoro remained calm, simply watching the thieves ransack the carriage.
Ceria shifted slightly, glancing at the thief holding her by the neck.
The scruffy-looking man had no weapons at his waist or in his hands.
It seemed the only ones with weapons were the thief holding Teodoro and the other who had gone to search the carriage.
“Does Teodoro know this too?”
If he did, perhaps he could create an opening to escape on his own.
Of course, rather than waiting for him to reveal his plan, it might be better for her to act—but she hesitated.
While Ceria debated, the thief rifling through the carriage jumped up and called out:
“Boss! There’s nothing to steal here! Total loss!”
There was nothing in the carriage worth taking—just Ceria’s diary and a few books.
Hearing this, the leader, who was holding Teodoro by the shoulder, scowled.
“What? Look at this guy’s face! Doesn’t he look like a fine young master? Surely he’s got something valuable! Search properly!”
“Really, there’s nothing… but alright!”
The thief scratched his head and re-entered the carriage. Teodoro, watching silently, muttered quietly:
“A waste of effort.”
“Don’t move. Do you want to die?”
The leader growled, pressing a dagger to Teodoro’s side.
Though the dagger was blunt from lack of maintenance, killing Teodoro would not have seemed difficult.
Yet he remained unfazed.
“You think you can kill me with that…”
Teodoro glanced at the thief holding the dagger to his side.
Beneath the poor armor, the man was thin, lifeless, and hollow-eyed. The other four were no different.
He had heard reports that thieves had increased in the north recently. Most likely ordinary people driven to crime by desperation.
The leader, frustrated that Teodoro ignored the dagger, barked toward Ceria:
“Damn it. Then strip that girl’s hood! Young women and children fetch a good price!”
“Yes, sir!”
The thief holding Ceria roughly pulled off her hood.
Her bright golden hair, hidden beneath the hood, caught everyone’s attention, and a hush fell over the area.
Could it really be because of my hair? Because I’m an Argenta with golden hair?
The sudden silence felt strange.
“Boss! This woman’s an Argenta!”
The thief holding Ceria recoiled as if he had seen something terrible.
Ceria frowned at the thief’s expression. Argenta?
Her head turned as the reaction didn’t feel ordinary. All the surrounding thieves looked uneasy.
“Tch, well, she’s attractive, so she’d still fetch… agh!”
As the leader spoke, Teodoro twisted the leader’s arm holding the dagger and drove him to the ground.
While the leader tumbled, Teodoro snatched the dagger from his hand.
“To think you’d dare consider human trafficking… you’ve got guts.”
Teodoro brushed the dirt from his clothes.
“Boss!”
“You bastard!”
“Hey, grab him!”
Seeing their leader fall, the other four thieves lunged at Teodoro.
He adjusted his grip on the dagger as if unfamiliar, then his gaze hardened.
Ceria instinctively rose as she saw the murderous intensity in his eyes—he would leave no thief alive.
Just as Teodoro raised the dagger at the nearest thief’s throat, Ceria swiftly summoned a gust of wind.
Whoosh—!
The strong gust sent the thief flying into a tree. The others were lifted and dropped one by one.
Teodoro stood tall, turning to Ceria. She was reaching out to the prostrate driver.
“Are you okay?”
“You mustn’t use your power recklessly. Especially if it harms someone. You need to understand the weight of life.”
Her father’s voice echoed in her mind.
Ceria’s wind power was stronger—and more dangerous—than anyone else’s. That’s why the Argenta king had always worried about her.
Back then, she thought her father was overreacting. Now, seeing it firsthand, she understood—he had been right.
Ceria helped the driver to his feet. He blinked, still confused by the chaos.
“You didn’t have to intervene; it would’ve sorted itself out,” Teodoro said, dropping the dagger to the ground and approaching Ceria.
“If I had stayed still, all the thieves would have died.”
“All thieves attacking nobility are sentenced to death anyway. And since they tried to sell you, there’s no room for leniency.”
“…That doesn’t give you the right to decide their lives.”
Ceria spoke calmly, but her heart still raced—not just because she had harmed someone for the first time, but because it had taken so little force.
It had been frighteningly easy to toss a person aside. She would likely never get used to that sensation, nor should she.
Ceria closed her eyes tightly, then climbed back onto the carriage.
“Ah!”
“Ugh… my, my back!”
“My legs won’t move. Ahh…”
Cries of pain echoed from the fallen thieves. They could only struggle, unable to move.
“You—damn woman!”
A thief near the carriage yanked Ceria’s skirt. Off balance, she almost fell.
Before she could, Teodoro kicked the thief away and caught her with one arm.
“Never show mercy recklessly, Ceria. Many repay kindness with cruelty.”
He helped her stand straight.
“You…!”
“Today I’ll let it slide, but next time, it’ll be a problem.”
Teodoro smiled slightly, though Ceria sensed it was a warning. She felt uneasy.
When Ceria and Teodoro reached near the capital, Taran, it was still pre-dawn.
The carriage stopped in front of an old mansion on the outskirts.
As they dismounted, the driver hurriedly bowed repeatedly, trembling nervously.
Ceria steadied him by the shoulders.
“That’s enough. You didn’t expect thieves, did you?”
The driver nodded vigorously. In his frantic movements, the cuts from the dagger reopened, and blood appeared.
Ceria handed him a handkerchief.
“Hold it. Your name is… ah, never mind.”
She had almost revealed his name. The driver crouched and began sketching something on the ground—it looked more like a drawing than letters, but it seemed he knew how to write his name.
“P… Peter? Your name’s Peter, right?”
Peter smiled and nodded, pleased that she recognized him.
“Take this.”
While Ceria and Peter exchanged greetings, Teodoro handed Peter a pouch from his pocket.
Peter’s eyes widened at its weight. Embarrassed, he handed it back.
“You should take it quietly,” Teodoro said, raising an eyebrow.
Peter hesitated, took out one silver coin, and returned the pouch.
Teodoro didn’t even look at it, his expression cold. Ceria quickly grabbed it and gave it back to Peter.
“Take it and go. Never come to the capital, understood?”
Before coming here, Teodoro had said he needn’t intervene with Peter, but Ceria couldn’t take that at face value. She silently hoped he would stay safe.
Pushing Peter gently, he bowed once more and climbed into the carriage.
Teodoro watched until the carriage disappeared from sight, as if contemplating what to do with Peter.
Ceria looked anxiously at him.
“I won’t touch you, so you don’t need to glare at me like that, Ceria Belvat.”
Hearing her full name made her freeze.
‘Ceria “Belvat”…’
Her stomach churned. She had truly allied with her enemy.
Teodoro looked smug, as if daring her to recognize whom she had joined hands with.
