Tessen (3)

“What’s all this?”

The soft voice was completely devoid of tension.

‘What do you mean, ‘what’? These are gifts to turn this house’s owner into a cultist.’

The gentle tone carried a strange pull, as if it demanded a kind reply.

Bique, already on edge from entering the wrong room earlier, did not fall for the deceptive calm.

He resisted the allure of the soothing voice.

But he couldn’t act.

Just as he tried to identify the enemy who disguised themselves in weakness and ordinariness—

Thud! A sudden force struck his temple.

His vision blurred, and the world tilted sideways.

True to his rank as a first-class assassin, Bique kept his eyes open even as he lost consciousness.

As he fell, he saw a hand casually holding the cultist’s emblem he had so carefully placed.

Wh–When did they…!?

That was the last thought he had before everything went blank.

Thud!

His body toppled silently to the floor.

It barely made a sound—his build was lithe, no doubt optimized for stealth.

Dressed in black, even his face masked, he looked like nothing more than a shadowy lump in the darkness.

Clatter, rustle.

The noise came from Alicia.

She shook the cultist emblems she had gathered in her hand like a toy.

Had a devout cultist seen this, they would have struggled to even look upon her for the blasphemy.

Had an inquisitor of the Emperor seen it, she would likely have been summoned to a heresy trial.

Alicia gathered every last cultist emblem.

She snatched the black pouch from the assassin’s belt and neatly stored all the emblems inside.

Then she tossed the bulging pouch onto the assassin’s unmoving body.

Without hesitation, her delicate hand searched the assassin’s belt and inner garments.

A pouch filled with gold and silver coins.

Two slim, sharp daggers.

Three bottles of unknown medicine.

With nimble fingers, she collected all the items and placed them on the desk.

Approaching the unconscious assassin, Alicia murmured,

“Something strange snuck into the house.”

After a brief pause, she grabbed the assassin’s shoulder despite being barefoot and dressed in her nightgown.

Though his body was average-sized for a grown man, he was dragged like a scarecrow.

As she walked, the assassin’s clothes scraped the floor, and the emblems inside the thick pouch clinked softly.

Soon, the door opened and closed—cutting off the sound.

Click.

The night was pitch dark, with not even moonlight to light the way.

The Grigen Clan’s field headquarters was steeped in silence.

“Are you saying Bique failed?”

The two men standing before the master dared not raise their heads.

“It seems that way.”

“We checked the perimeter of the outer wall starting at midnight, but there were no signs of anyone exiting. No emergency signals either.”

This should not have been a mission a first-class assassin could fail.

To account for unforeseen complications, the mission had been presented with two options.

“And you’re saying he failed to complete even one of them?”

Three letters lay on the table in front of the Grigen Clan master.

One contained the mission details given to the assassin.

The other two were to be sent to the client, depending on the outcome.

Though they had prepared a letter for failure just in case, they never expected to use it.

“She must be a woman with a long life.”

“There must have been a countermeasure within the villa that we failed to detect.”

The two men spoke solemnly.

“This makes no sense. You told me there were no armed guards inside. Even if there were, are you telling me our assassin couldn’t plant a few trinkets around a sleeping girl’s bedroom and escape safely?”

The master’s reproach made the two men lower their heads further.

“Our intel on the villa was severely lacking…”

“Though the mission called for one of two options, perhaps he overreached by attempting both.”

At that, the master furrowed his brow.

“So you’re telling me a nineteen-year-old girl—who should’ve been asleep—was too much for a first-class assassin? Is that something an assassin clan member should be saying!?”

As the master raised his voice, the tent flap opened.

A man dressed as a humble herb merchant entered and handed a letter to the master.

“A message from the client. It seems they reached out first due to the delay in receiving a status update.”

“Good. Saves me the trouble of writing a letter announcing our failure.”

The master spat sarcastically as he unfolded the letter.

But the moment he read it, his hands froze in place.

The three men watched him carefully, unable to tear their eyes away.

After a long silence, the clan master folded the letter and said ominously,

“We’re withdrawing.”

Noticing the master’s foul mood, the agents remained silent.

“We follow your command.”

The man who had brought the client’s message turned to leave.

The master silently handed him the letter.

[From this moment forward, disengage from the matter.]

Their eyes met, both men exchanging brief, uneasy expressions.

As he tucked away the letter, the man asked,

“Shall we head straight to the capital?”

“Yes.”

“What of the agents still in the field?”

“You’ll stay behind. Once they’re done, send them to Hwangdo. For now, suspend all clan activity.”

“Shall we keep observing the friend’s house?”

“Only from a distance.”

With that, the master, still dressed in his humble herbalist guise, left the tent.

The man followed shortly after, blending in with the group packing up for departure.

It was the heart of winter.

A biting wind swept through from dawn till dusk.

Yet within the Grand Duke of Tessen’s audience chamber, not a single whisper of wind could be heard.

The massive chamber radiated a warm atmosphere.

Silence settled over the well-kept, cozy space.

Reichardt’s hand, which had been reaching for the handle of a teacup, paused.

But the pause lasted only a moment.

His hand, grasping the steaming teacup, soon continued to his lips.

“What did you just say?”

Reichardt’s audience chamber was structured more like a parlor.

Though there was a seat of honor, there were no steps or platforms—host and guest sat at equal eye level.

Each had their own tea table set to their right side.

“Lady Alicia is currently detaining someone from the Greitz household. Please, Your Grace, I beg you to resolve this matter.”

The Greitz family’s butler, Luther, wore a somber expression.

He looked like someone who had suffered a terrible family tragedy.

Having suddenly arrived at Tessen’s main estate the night before, Luther wore the same sorrowful face from the moment he arrived.

He requested an audience under the pretext of delivering a letter from Baron Greitz.

Though it wasn’t rare for people to seek an audience with the Grand Duke of Tessen, Luther’s request stood out.

He wished to meet not only the Grand Duke, but also the mistress of the Lilizet Villa during the same audience.

The meeting took place at dawn.

However, the mistress of Lilizet Villa, whom Luther had requested to see, did not appear.

“Agent of Baron Greitz, Luther.”

“Just Luther is fine, Your Grace.”

Luther, overcome with humility, looked up at Reichardt with a mournful face.

“Luther.”

“I and the Baron fully understand Your Grace’s position may be difficult. But this concerns a man’s life.”

“A man’s life, you say.”

Reichardt echoed the words as he took a sip of tea.

“I still don’t understand. The day before yesterday, I and other members of the Greitz household visited Lady Alicia to pay our respects. Our lord expressed a desire to build a connection with Lady Alicia, and she seemed to reciprocate that sentiment. At the time, one of the attendants who accompanied us—Bique—was asked by the Lady to stay behind. He hasn’t returned in two days. He didn’t commit any grave offense, yet the Lady asked him to stay… We don’t understand why he hasn’t been sent back.”

Luther spoke mournfully, like a man who had just lost a lifelong friend.

“I understand the situation.”

Reichardt set his teacup down.

“Your Grace, he may be just a mere servant, but… he is still a man of Greitz. If Lilizet wishes to assert their innocence in his disappearance, they will have to open the villa for inspection. Without that, it will be difficult to believe them.”

Tears welled up in Luther’s eyes as he transitioned from pleading to a firmer tone.

“I’ll look into it. I’ll contact Baron Greitz. You may go.”

“My apologies, Your Grace. I’ll take my leave.”

As Reichardt issued the dismissal, Luther once again wore a sorrowful face.

Even as the door to the audience chamber opened and closed, Reichardt did not take his eyes off the teacup.

Only after the door fully closed did he rise from his seat.

“Henrik.”

At the master’s call, Henrik pushed aside the ornate cabinets along the wall of the audience chamber.

A hidden space, once disguised as a solid wall, was revealed.

It was decorated similarly to the outer chamber, but inside was a large oval table that could seat many people.

Alicia sat at the head seat, with servants of Tessen and Lilizet gathered around.

As she sipped her tea, Alicia’s expression was peculiar.

With twisted lips, she quietly murmured to herself as she drank.

“So that one’s name was Bique.”

Reichardt, who had been approaching, stopped in his tracks.

His amber eyes stared intently at Alicia as she drank.

Alicia returned his gaze with poise, her expression innocent and composed, as if she had no idea why he was watching her.

The room was enormous—there was no way he could have heard her muttering.

Even Daisy, sitting right next to her, hadn’t caught it, so Alicia remained unbothered.

“All of you, leave us.”

The hidden room was not only concealed but also soundproofed.

“Your Grace—!”

Daisy jumped up in alarm.

She wanted to explain that what the Duke just heard was not true, that Alicia had done nothing wrong, and that everyone in this room was trustworthy—even if the Grand Duke was Alicia’s fiancé, the two were not yet married.

But Reichardt didn’t even glance at Daisy as she stepped forward to defend Alicia.

Instead, Alicia gently placed her hand over Daisy’s.

“It’s all right.”

Daisy was pleased by how much her lady had grown livelier lately.

However, she still found it hard to believe Alicia would point out a servant from a visiting noble house and keep him, or worse, harm him.

The accusation was clearly false.

Alicia couldn’t possibly be involved in any crime.

Even if someone were to fabricate a rumor, they should’ve at least made it somewhat believable.

To think the Greitz family would spout such groundless slander—Daisy found it outrageous.

She wanted to yell at the Grand Duke that her lady would never do such a thing.

But she held back.

A maid’s place was to be like air.

More importantly, Alicia said it was fine and asked her to step back, so she complied.

“I will take my leave.”

As Daisy stepped away, Roderick and Henrik followed.

The ornate divider separating the audience chamber and the hidden space returned to its original position.

Now only Reichardt and Alicia remained in the lavish chamber.

Reichardt sat at the opposite end of the long table.

“Did you kill him?”

The question traveled dryly from one end of the table to the other.

Alicia’s eyes widened at the question hurled across the room.

“Pardon…?”

She tried to feign surprise, as if the question were absurd, but the uncertainty in her voice gave her away.