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Chapter 75
My night escort knight arrived on time today as always.
Leaning casually against the tavern door.
The Grand Duke greeted me with a nod as soon as I stepped out, then strode over and asked:
[The item I entrusted you with is still safe, isn’t it?]
Hah. Does he really think I’d be crazy enough to sell the wedding jewels I personally prepared for him?
[Of course. Want me to go back inside and show you again?]
[I’d prefer if you didn’t even put it on display in the pawnshop window.]
[Don’t worry. It’s stored deep in the vault.]
Well, they are jewels, so I suppose he fears someone might covet them. I find this situation rather amusing. The man has no idea that the person keeping his jewels safe is none other than his wife.
I wonder what kind of face he’ll make once he finds out someday.
Ah, right, I should report today’s news.
[The mercenary group boarded a ship at Bedef Port. It won’t take long before they reach Pardon Island.]
At my signs, the Grand Duke stiffened. Perhaps the thought that the rescue mission was so close made him tense.
“Hopefully, they make it out safely…”
He muttered as if to himself.
I confidently gestured back.
[You don’t need to worry. I entrusted it to the most capable person.]
Before Vera left, I told her over and over—dig a tunnel underground if you must, but bring that girl back out alive.
The Grand Duke gave a heavy nod. In his calm eyes, I caught glimpses of desperation and despair. Well, if the only person he can trust is this lowly pawnshop owner, I can’t blame him.
As we walked toward Sir Julio’s guesthouse, the Grand Duke and I exchanged signs under the moonlight, lanterns passing between us.
[I have a question.]
What’s he curious about this time?
[How did you end up running a tavern?]
Hmm, what should I say? There are many reasons, but if I had to choose the very first one…
[I wanted to listen. To the stories of the people of Blansk.]
A tavern is the most direct channel for hearing the voice of the people. By overhearing the conversations they share over drinks, I can quickly understand what each village needs. And I can collect all sorts of rumors circulating around.
[You speak as if you aren’t really from Blansk yourself.]
[To be honest, I’m not. I’m an outsider. The war brought me here. Much like how marriage brought you to settle in Blansk.]
More than an outsider, I’m actually foreign—but it’s better to leave it at that.
[So you’re from another region. At least that gives us some common ground.]
The Grand Duke’s eyes curved gently. Even a feather-light smile in his eyes feels sweet as honey. Amazing how he can look so enchanting, even with nose and mouth hidden.
But that eye smile vanished in an instant.
[Was there a special reason you gave the women from the brothel the tavern jobs?]
He asked seriously.
[The lord abolished the brothel, so the women lost their work. I happened to need staff for the tavern, that’s all.]
It feels a little odd talking about something I did as if someone else had done it.
[So it was a coincidence, demand meeting supply?]
[You could say that.]
The truth was, I abolished the brothel because I discovered the women there were being forced into unwanted work.
The garrison had set up the place. On top of that, a trafficking ring had been shoving orphaned girls with nowhere else to go into it.
So I led the castle knights, tore the place down, and wiped out the trafficking ring completely—threw every last one of them in prison.
[Honestly, I just wanted to create a safe tavern where residents could drink without worry. Somewhere they could share a drink with friends after a hard day’s work and unwind.]
After the war, most of the residents were women. I wanted my tavern to be a space for them. I kept drink prices cheap, recruited musicians for lively performances, even set up a stage for dancing.
[But now it looks like about half your patrons are men.]
[Yes, word spread that there are many female customers. At first, garrison soldiers also started flocking in, harassing the waitresses—demanding to know why they didn’t sell their bodies anymore, and making a scene.]
[Sounds like running the place wasn’t easy. I heard you sometimes dealt with troublemakers personally.]
Ah, so he heard that from the staff.
Whenever someone crossed the line, I’d draw my sword and face them myself. They were usually worthless fools—not hard to chase off.
Ugh. Just thinking about those pathetic types makes my blood boil.
[I was so fed up with the soldiers that I even put up a sign once: “Soldiers Not Allowed.”]
[That sounds like a reasonable decision. Then why allow them back now?]
[Because the garrison colonel came to me personally. Said banning soldiers had crushed morale.]
[So you let them back in?]
[What was I supposed to do—defy a colonel? I agreed, but I made him promise that any drunken soldiers who caused trouble would be severely punished.]
And according to that promise, any soldier caught making a scene in my tavern ended up in the stockade the very next day. They’d be released after a few weeks, sure, but still.
Of course, troublemakers always cause trouble again. So I made a “watchlist” and sent official notice to the garrison under the name of Lady Alisa Rasantia, the territory’s ruler. Stated clearly that if these men caused problems in my domain, I’d prosecute them as lord.
Eventually, the worst of them were reassigned elsewhere. The problem is, new replacements sometimes act up without knowing better.
[What about those sword-dance performers? Are you still recruiting?]
[Yes, I’ve been spreading word. If there are applicants, they’ll show up at the pawnshop soon enough.]
[If you’re hiring, I’d like to help.]
The Grand Duke gestured. What does he mean by helping again?
[How could you help?]
[I know swordsmanship. I could teach them the basics, sparring skills, that sort of thing.]
Ah, so he’s offering his talents for free.
[Now that you mention it, I’ve always wondered. Where did you learn swordsmanship?]
I asked knowingly.
[I once served briefly as a knight under a lord.]
[Why?]
He’s royalty. Why would a prince serve under some mere count, the lord of Pardon Island? I wanted to know.
“If you just demand ‘why’ out of nowhere, what am I supposed to say?”
He muttered softly to himself, holding the oil lamp.
I can hear you, you fool.
[Was it because you had to support your family?]
I pressed again, snatching the oil lamp from him to force a quicker reply.
[Yes. I had to look after my younger sister.]
[You seem like someone from a noble family. Did your parents leave you no inheritance?]
I was probing him as hard as I could now.
[Our nation fell in the war. How many could preserve their parents’ estate intact? Everyone was too busy fleeing to carry much.]
That much was true. The royal family of Dvorka abandoned Yorka Palace and fled with nothing but their lives. I know they survived by taking “maintenance allowances” from the Lord of Pardon Island.
Queen Elizabeta’s children probably received that allowance—but as an illegitimate son, the Grand Duke likely received nothing. Hence the need to play knight and support his sister.
[Did you live with your sister then?]
He shook his head.
Hmm. The queen said she had found that “treasure” in the forest.
Piecing together what I know, it makes sense: the stillborn child, secretly smuggled away and raised in the woods.
[But why live apart, if you’re family?]
[Because she wasn’t acknowledged as family.]
[Why not?]
I was throwing question after question, but I needed to know.
The Grand Duke held my gaze for a long time, clearly wondering why I was so persistent. I snatched the oil lamp from him again, urging him to answer.
[Because my father denied her existence.]
[Why? Was she a child your mother had out of infidelity?]
I deliberately asked a provocative question. Usually, when a father denies a child, that’s the reason.
But Nadia, locked away in the harem until her death, could hardly have had the chance for an affair.
[No. My mother never committed such a sin.]
He answered firmly.
[Then what reason could he possibly have to deny her?]
[My wife died giving birth. Unable to find someone else to blame, my father blamed the child.]
Hmm. Was that when King Madilov finally lost his mind completely?
It’s incomprehensible. How could someone deny his own daughter’s existence because his wife died? Is that what happens when love curdles into madness?
When I gave no response, the Grand Duke sighed deeply and shook his head.
“Hah… I don’t know why I’m telling all this to you, of all people.”
He muttered—again, fully audible.
What do you mean “why”? If I hadn’t stepped in, your sister wouldn’t even be alive to enter Blansk safely.
Fine. Then let’s move on to the next question.
[Does your wife know about all this?]
