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Chapter 64
It had been several days since they had rescued the captives when Yotun finally shared his calm analysis.
“I suspect they were planning to load them onto ships and dump them somewhere.”
“Ships?”
Cillia looked at Yotun, who fluttered beside her before perching on her shoulder.
“The place where we found those people was the city next to the capital, remember?”
That was true. She had complained about how they could possibly travel to the neighboring city before dawn, but Yotun had used some strange magic that got them there in an instant. Normally, that trip would have taken a full day or two by carriage.
“So they didn’t dare to pull something like that in the capital itself.”
“That, and—if you follow the river there, it connects to the canal that leads to the southern sea. They probably dumped whoever was left over there.”
“……”
Cillia clenched her fist. There had already been several who didn’t make it inside that warehouse. If only she had arrived a little sooner…
Still, she had managed to save most of them. The little girl’s older sister too. That same child she’d helped during the capital fire. Even the half-repaired Periot had hummed softly at the girl, as if greeting her.
“The children will be all right,” Yotun said.
“I was planning to check on them myself anyway.”
While people were still evacuating, Cillia had taken in one old man who hadn’t managed to escape and the two children she’d found at the palace and the warehouse, sending them all to her father’s estate. They were to receive proper treatment—and if they had nowhere else to go, she’d take them in as servants.
“Can you tell what kind of experiment it was?” she asked.
“If I study the traces of magic a bit more, I might know for sure. But one thing is certain—it wasn’t a good one.”
“…I see.”
Cillia nodded. Any experiment that required abducting people like that couldn’t possibly be good.
“You’ll find out, won’t you?”
At that, Yotun’s eyes glimmered strangely.
“You seem rather certain of my abilities. Perhaps that confidence is tied to our past lives as well.”
Cillia gave a wry smile before she could stop herself.
Because you cared for humans.
He was a being who had gone to war for humanity and died for it. There was no way such a person could tolerate seeing humans used for twisted magical experiments.
Yotun, looking intrigued, added:
“It seems you remember more of your past life than I do. Might I hear about it someday?”
“Do you really need to?”
“It’s fascinating. I told you, didn’t I? Dragons die when they stop questioning things.”
“If that’s the case…”
She didn’t love the part about “dying,” but there was no real reason she couldn’t tell him eventually. He’d earned that much.
“I’ll tell you later. For now, let’s focus on work.”
Cillia lifted the bundle of herbs from her desk. When she had explained the situation, the Tower Master had procured these for her—saying he’d asked a specialist since potion-brewing wasn’t his forte. Anything the Tower Master personally picked out was bound to be effective.
“You should go inside. Someone might see you.”
Without complaint, Yotun slipped into the bag that held the herbs and even purred softly like a cat as he settled in. Cillia looked down at him, a bit dumbfounded.
Why does this feel so familiar…?
The moment she thought that, the half-broken sword at her hip gave a low hum.
“Right. I’ve still got you.”
Hummm.
“Now even the dragon’s acting like this.”
When she stepped outside with her things to visit her father, Flier approached, sword in hand, mid-training. Beads of sweat clung to his rolled-up forearms; he must’ve been at it since dawn.
“Lady Cillia. Are you heading out?”
“……”
What’s with that look?
He looked like a puppy who’d just been left behind by its owner.
“About that last mission I went on alone…”
“I understand. You did it because it was too dangerous to involve anyone else.”
When she’d gone to rescue the captives, Cillia had moved discreetly—after all, the royal family was involved, and caution was crucial. She had even knocked out guards in secret and left doors open behind her.
Couldn’t risk anyone knowing it was me.
The crown princess might have guessed, but she couldn’t say anything without proof.
She had also asked Julin to look into whether any nearby cities had been shipping people off recently, and every night since then, she had secretly scouted for suspicious activity herself. Until one night, she failed to return to the Diamant estate on time.
“Lady Cillia.”
“……”
That was when she’d been caught working alone again. She hadn’t even told him the details of what happened with Krondel, only saying she’d explain later.
Flier had apologized over and over for not being of help, then thrown himself into training with a pitiful look ever since.
And now, with that gaze again…
If I don’t take him, I’ll look like some kind of monster.
From inside the bag, Yotun thumped against her shoulder as if urging her to bring him along, and Periot hummed his agreement. Cillia resisted the urge to flick both of them on the head and said to Flier,
“Would you like to come along? I’m going to my father’s estate.”
“Would… that be all right?”
What happened to your confidence?!
Suppressing her internal panic, Cillia added quickly,
“My father’s been asking me to bring you, actually. Since I’ve been staying at the Diamant estate, he wants to thank you properly.”
“There’s no need for thanks!”
Even so, his expression brightened. Cillia smiled and tugged his arm.
“Then let’s go right away.”
“Should I… tidy myself up first?”
“Of course.”
Flier dashed off toward the mansion. Yotun peeked out of the bag and murmured with amusement,
“You certainly keep quite a few loyal hounds.”
“What are you talking about? Don’t compare decent people to dogs. You’re the one purring like a cat.”
“Hmm. Am I being called adorable? How flattering.”
Periot hummed softly, as if laughing.
“You think this is funny?”
“Of course.”
“Ugh… my head.”
Cillia groaned quietly.
Baron Bronew welcomed them warmly.
Margaret and Julin—who now visited the baron’s estate more often than Cillia herself—were already there.
“Feels just like when you were at the Diamant estate.”
“Right? Still, it’s nice to have everyone together again.”
“Young Count Flier, my daughter owes you so much…”
“Not at all, sir.”
Pleasantries were exchanged, and after expressing endless gratitude to Flier, Baron Bronew suddenly looked around and regarded Cillia with a nostalgic smile.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s just… I never imagined my house would be so full of the friends you brought home. Honestly, I never even imagined I’d have a home again.”
Cillia only smiled softly. A brief silence followed before Julin broke it with a teasing tone.
“Speaking of which, Baron, did you know? Back in school, Cillia’s nickname was—”
“Choose your words carefully.”
“Why? The baron should know how icy she used to be! She was so cold and high-handed—”
“You’re the one who said I wasn’t really my father’s daughter.”
“When did I—! That’s not true, sir!”
“Who was it that asked if Father was hiding the Tower Master’s illegitimate child?”
“Stop bringing up embarrassing stuff!”
They bickered, laughing, and the baron smiled quietly as he watched. He already knew his daughter carried a chill about her; he could hardly blame her after the life she’d led. Her inability to smile was his fault.
“It makes me happy to see you laugh like that.”
His voice trembled faintly with emotion.
“Cillia, if you don’t mind, I’d like your opinion on the mansion’s renovations. It’ll be your home one day, after all.”
“What are you talking about, ‘one day’? It’s already my home.”
“Haha. You’re right.”
The baron led them on a small tour, showing the changes he’d made. His expression dimmed when they reached the garden—and understandably so. Wildflowers had overrun it completely, and several patches of earth were dug up where he’d apparently tried to fix it.
From the bag, Yotun made a curious noise. Cillia murmured quietly so only he could hear.
“What is it?”
“I’d like to look around. Hard to see much from in here.”
“Only if you’re sure you won’t get caught.”
No sooner had she spoken than Yotun oozed out of the bag like liquid and drifted away. He was a dragon—he’d manage. Cillia sighed and followed her father through the overgrown garden.
After the brief tour, she didn’t forget to check in on the old man and the children before dinner—that had been one of her main reasons for coming.
The elderly man, who introduced himself as Molly, thanked her repeatedly and showed her the two children still sleeping soundly.
“How are you feeling?”
“Thanks to you, much better.”
“The children have been asleep this whole time?”
“Yes. The healer the baron recommended gave them a potion. Said they’d need to rest for a while.”
“I see. When they wake, please give them this—and use some yourself.”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly, miss. That’s too valuable—”
“Please take it. It wasn’t easy to get.”
Cillia handed him the herbs she’d received from the Tower Master, then gently brushed the foreheads of the two sleeping children—Jerry and Jen, if she remembered right—before leaving the room.
“Thank you for taking them in, Father.”
“Think nothing of it. I’ll welcome anyone you bring here.”
“The renovations look great. I’ll ask the Diamant estate’s gardener to advise about the garden.”
“Y-yes, do that.”
At the mention of the garden, Baron Bronew’s expression darkened again.
“Wait.”
Cillia frowned.
I thought he was just upset about the mess earlier… but this looks different.
It was the same grave look he’d worn the day he’d rushed to the capital to find her.
Before she realized it, Cillia had grabbed his arm.
