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Chapter 7
Even though she had drunk strong alcohol, her mind was clear. It must be because she was awake.
Following him silently, she realized that the Duke made almost no sound when he walked.
He had been like that even on the battlefield.
Was it just his natural habit, or some aftereffect left by war?
Evel thought she knew quite a lot about Victor Bayern, both as a commander and as a duke. But as a man who had set aside that rank… she knew nothing.
All she could see was that his back was remarkably straight and his posture perfect. Wherever the descending moonlight touched him, the muscles under his thin shirt were clearly visible.
And she understood only that he treated ladies with extraordinary courtesy.
Even if that “lady” happened to be dressed as a man.
“…Is this a dream or am I awake?”
She had no idea.
A short while later, Evel came out of the small bathroom attached to the room, stretched her arms, and flopped onto the bed.
Everything felt insane, yet despite drinking excessively, her eyes were wide open. She could not sleep at all.
A comfortable bed and a meal that fills you…
She could hardly believe it.
When she woke, it would still be the battlefield, and the few officers she joked with would probably come to check if she was alive.
They would laugh, clutching their stomachs, if she told them about this dream.
But that was my reality.
Pulling the rustling blanket up to her face, she let out a small breath.
War, surgery, bombardments… and just now, the warm wine she drank.
She felt as if she were standing on the border between reality and unreality.
A sudden wave of anxiety hit her, and Evel grabbed the pillow and took a deep breath.
She wondered if his nights were like this too.
Victor, having let Evel in, spoke quietly without even looking back.
“Start investigating Abel Claren from tomorrow. He should be somewhere in Lindau’s gambling houses.”
“Yes, sir.”
Matthias, who had followed with the documents, bowed his head.
He had never acted recklessly since entering the service. He was always rational, practical, and concise in his orders.
But seeing his master like this, Matthias could hardly get used to it.
‘I can’t eavesdrop on the master’s conversation, so I’ll stay back.’
He was dying of curiosity. What kind of conversation was happening in there? Who was this person disguised as a man, and why did it seem so natural?
And how did he know that Morse code?
It had to be a specially made code that even Matthias couldn’t read.
‘Ah, maybe he’s an elite agent from his intelligence days?’
It wasn’t strange that Matthias reached that conclusion. Nothing else made sense from a logical perspective.
“Uh… what should I do if we find this Abel Claren?”
“It seems he needs to be made to come to his senses.”
“Ah, yes! Understood!”
Even though the industrial era was spreading and a new age was opening, the underworld still existed in various parts of the country.
Having understood the Duke’s intention, Matthias bowed and withdrew.
If the Duke said someone “needs to come to their senses,” he thought, that person must have really lived a miserable life, no matter who they were.
A few days later, in a back alley behind a gambling house in the port city of Lindau:
“What… what are you…! Ugh! Ugh!!!”
Abel, who had been lying on the street drunk after losing money he had taken from his younger brother, was seized by several burly men and put into a carriage.
“Is this… about money? Who is it—Noswick? Or Koran?”
He had borrowed money and run away a few times.
As he muttered the names of the loan sharks he remembered, Abel tried to find an escape route with bleary eyes.
He was a twin, born on the same ship.
His younger brother had apparently graduated at the top of the university? Well, he could have done the same if he wanted.
He was always drunk or high, but that was because he was too smart. The world was just too stupid, and it frustrated him. So he gambled.
Whatever excuses there were, it was undeniable that Abel was as clever as Evel—though he only chose to use his wits for mischief.
‘They’re dressed like common laborers, but the clothes are new. Not just one, the whole group, even including the coachman. No mending or patches. Especially the shoes—they’re shiny. They bought them just for this.’
The client must be of high status, trying to conceal themselves.
‘I don’t recognize any of them. I’ve been avoiding loan sharks for years. Yes, definitely. They’re not here because of debts.’
With his life in danger, Abel’s mind worked faster than ever. Faster than calculating the opponent’s hand in a game.
“Oh, sirs. Why treat someone like me this way, hmm?”
He spoke cheerfully, secretly twisting his wrist.
His hands and feet were bound, but his mouth was not gagged.
Why not?
If they were this thorough, they would have gagged me too.
“I’ve lived without harming anyone. Could you have mistaken me for someone else?”
No one answered. No one met his eyes.
‘So they came specifically for me. Must be under orders.’
Good. He was sobering up.
Even in silence, there was so much he could figure out.
‘If I knew, I would’ve squeezed more money from that girl yesterday since I got kicked out for not having enough.’
Even Abel’s mind wandered to such thoughts, but he soon stopped.
He’d never thought in that direction… could it be—
“Aha, aha-ha! Evel. Evel sent you, didn’t she? She didn’t want to give money, so this is her doing!”
It was so ridiculous he almost cried.
Bent over, laughing hysterically, Abel shook his body and shouted:
“She stole my brother’s name and now tries to kill me! Amazing, truly amazing. That’s what it means to be born on the same ship! Always pretending to be noble, saying she’d become a doctor or whatever! Yet behind it, she’s rotten. Blood will tell! Aha-ha!”
Cough.
The laughter stopped abruptly as the man in front of him drove his fist into Abel’s stomach.
The shock made him briefly lose consciousness, and his vision wavered.
After a while, the carriage arrived at its destination.
At the entrance of a gray building, a sign creaked ominously: [Grayhaven Mental Education Institute]
“Nice to meet you, young lady. I am Granny Vanya.”
“Ah… nice to meet you.”
“Please, speak comfortably. I was ordered to attend to you properly.”
Early in the morning: bacon and raw eggs, warm bread, expensive cheese, a salad filled with fruits and olives.
After the impossibly peaceful meal, someone came to see Evel.
The old woman had snow-white hair and a large, strong build, but gave off a bold and refreshing impression.
“When I was young, I was the Bayern family’s nanny. I received basic training, so in emergencies, I also protected His Excellency.”
“Ah.”
“Now, I am the head maid at the main estate of the domain. I took leave to come here.”
No wonder she had a calming presence—she had been a nanny.
Granny Vanya threw open the curtains and clapped her hands, announcing cheerfully:
“Now, I will help you get ready. I bought a few dresses on the way, and we’ll see if they need tailoring.”
Dresses…?
Evel couldn’t remember the last time she wore one. Including the memories of war, it must have been at least seven years.
She stepped into the prepared bathtub, and for two hours received care from fingertips to toes. Her hair was short, so drying didn’t take long.
“Short hair makes it easier to attach a chignon. Hoho.”
Evel grimaced at the wigs on the trolley. She had no choice; dressing up was now part of her mission.
“All done with makeup. How do you feel? Granny Vanya has put her skills to work after a long time.”
Opening her eyes, Evel was slightly surprised at her reflection in the mirror.
It was a completely different person.
“You’re skilled with makeup.”
“Thank you. Before I became head maid… I served the late Miss Seosanna for a long time.”
