TYMC 13

Chapter 13

“It’s the first time I’ve seen you not paying attention to me, Ail. What were you thinking about?”

…The biggest problem was that I still hadn’t uncovered the secret behind Lis’s power—or even confirmed whether such a power existed at all.

Honestly, in all my years as an assassin, I’d never suffered such humiliation.

“When do you think—”

At the quiet question that drifted toward me, my mouth moved on its own, as if it had been waiting for the opportunity.

Thinking about when I might be able to kill you.

“I was thinking about whether Young Master treasures his belongings.”

The torn edge of the handkerchief lay limply across my palm, fluttering weakly.

This was already the fourth time I’d seen it in such a pitiful state and sewn its damaged parts back together with needle and thread.

He had more than enough money to simply buy a new handkerchief, yet Lis always brought this one to me and asked me to mend the holes.

“Hm? Of course I treasure it. That’s why I use it every day.”

It was the item he cherished the most—and also the one he ruined most often.

Because he treasured it, he used it constantly.

And because he used it constantly, it wore out quickly.

A cloth handkerchief naturally became dirty and frayed with frequent use.

Yet Lis seemed completely incapable of understanding such a simple equation.

Or perhaps he simply had no intention of understanding it.

“Young Master, normally when people treasure something, they keep it safely hidden away. They don’t use it so reck— I mean, so freely.”

Suppressing the irritation that had suddenly risen inside me, I forced the corners of my stiff mouth upward and answered as gently as possible.

“Hide it? Why?”

Lis tilted his head, his violet eyes widening in confusion.

Meeting his innocent gaze directly, I lightly waved the tattered handkerchief before his eyes.

“Things you treasure should be handled carefully if you want them to last. Otherwise, this handkerchief won’t be around much longer.”

Won’t be around much longer, my foot.

Judging by its condition, it looked like it could be tossed into a fireplace as kindling right this instant.

If this were the Black Rose hideout, this miserable rag would already be fueling the fire beneath a pot of potato soup.

And I’d probably be the one throwing it in.

If the childish brat standing before me weren’t a target worth ten million gold, I’d tear this rag to pieces myself and—

P.S. Use any means necessary to gain the target’s trust.

Just as my temper was reaching its peak, the postscript from Death’s letter cooled my thoughts instantly.

Right.

Everything was for the sake of ten million gold…

In any case, my words must have sounded convincing, because Lis’s expression slowly darkened.

“It was my mother’s keepsake. No matter how worn it gets, I can’t throw it away.”

What…?

This was the Duchess’s keepsake?

You never said anything, so how was I supposed to know—more importantly, you’re the one who shredded it to this extent! Can you really say that with such a gloomy expression?

Hmm. Fine, I’ll take back the part about him being a childish brat.

I’d always believed that the best way to treasure something was to preserve it untouched for as long as possible.

But after hearing the circumstances…

Perhaps his way of showing affection was to use it every single day.

Though admittedly, this level of affection felt a little excessive.

“…I’ll do my best to mend it. But there can’t be a next time. The fabric won’t hold together any longer.”

Swallowing my sigh, I began sewing with practiced hands.

Watching me from beside, Lis gradually scooted closer.

“Ail, there really isn’t anything you can’t do. You said you worked as a maid at Baron Gerald’s estate before, right? And that you studied abroad?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

No, it wasn’t.

Unfortunately, I had no idea who Baron Gerald even was.

And studying abroad? I’d never even been to a harbor, let alone boarded a ship.

My impressive background had been entirely fabricated to infiltrate Duke Cassio’s estate as a maid.

Since the estate was famously difficult to enter, considerable effort had gone into forging credentials that would get me accepted immediately.

“Why did you quit working for the baron?”

“Because the pay was pitiful. There, the handkerchief’s treatment is finished. You really need to be more careful with it.”

After finishing my work, I handed the repaired handkerchief back to him and stood up.

Lis had suddenly called me over to mend it, preventing me from finishing the bedroom cleaning.

As I rose, he looked up at me with an oddly disappointed expression.

“Ail, when you’re done cleaning the bedroom, could you bring me the documents from the study in the annex? Demon said they absolutely need my approval today.”

“Of course.”

After leaving Lis’s office, I glanced through a window in the corridor.

The once-warm sunlight had begun to lose its heat, and the lush trees now looked skeletal and withered.

Compared to other nations, the Livd Empire had extremely short springs and autumns, with long late summers and winters that arrived quickly.

I faithfully submitted regular reports to Black Rose as the seasons passed, but…

Despite my diligence, more than two weeks had gone by without any meaningful progress.

Well, it couldn’t really be helped.

If I were to make an excuse, it was that Lis hardly ever had reason to use his power.

The reason being that every night, I personally dealt with the assassins who appeared as reliably as clockwork.

Just yesterday, I tied up two particularly stupid assassins and tossed them far away together.

Since they only showed up in the dead of night while everyone slept, I hadn’t had a proper night’s rest lately.

“I absolutely need to bill them for target protection services in this report…”

Even setting that aside, Duke Cassio’s estate was strangely peaceful.

For a place with such a terrible reputation, it’s suspiciously quiet.

There was actually a fairly reasonable explanation for it.

Since the estate employed no formal guards, the servants took self-defense very seriously.

As a result, ordinary assassins were usually handled by the servants themselves.

No wonder their quadriceps and biceps were absurdly well-developed for ordinary people.

Dusting off the blankets, I continued cleaning while pondering the three questions I still couldn’t include in my reports.

The first was the absence of Duke Cassio.

“No matter how much he’s reduced his public activities, it’s still strange not to encounter him even once.”

The estate was so enormous that casually running into someone was practically impossible.

Still, not seeing even a single strand of his hair felt excessive.

Even Death, who rarely joked when discussing work, had suggested I confirm whether the duke was actually alive.

The target lives in the East Wing, while the duke resides in the West Wing. The grounds are so vast they could fit two mansions and still have room to spare.

I’d memorized the estate’s layout long ago, so I knew exactly where Duke Cassio’s residence was located.

But it was practically on the opposite side from Lis’s quarters.

There was no chance of accidentally crossing paths with him, or even passing nearby.

Even Lis, my only source of information, never seemed to have the slightest interaction with his father—not meals together, not business discussions, nothing.

Naturally, as Lis’s personal maid, I had even less opportunity to meet the duke.

“At the very least, it doesn’t seem like the father and son have a good relationship… but I don’t have enough evidence to put anything in my report.”

Whenever I asked the other maids about the duke, they all became visibly uncomfortable.

Since I couldn’t investigate directly and wasn’t even certain of the duke’s existence anymore, my only option was to question longtime staff members.

Yet every time his name came up, they turned pale and instinctively backed away.

They were definitely afraid of mentioning the duke. But strangely, it didn’t feel like the duke himself was the source of that fear.

It was peculiar.

They feared the duke, yet the terror itself didn’t seem to originate from him.

In the end, all I’d learned over the past two weeks amounted to some basic maid skills, a handful of trivial facts about the target, and the layout of the estate.

Swallowing my frustration, I finished arranging the bedding and stared blankly at the first-aid kit sitting on the table in the center of the room.

The second mystery was that very object.