“What’s the meaning of this, Alan?”
No sooner had I arrived at the harbor than an old friend accosted me with a fierce glare. He hadn’t even given me a chance to celebrate our long-awaited reunion.
“No one told me the news until I took over for Prince Theodore. Ian was killed in an accident?”
He was referring to one of the Black Wing Knights, Ian Brennan. He had been a young man with hair the color of sunshine, whose good nature was a direct reflection of his status as a well-born son.
It all went back to that incident six years ago. Ian was the boy from a merchant family we met back then. I’d made his acquaintance before Prince Chris took me in, but it turned out he really was the son of a rich family. He had a girl he’d been in love with since he was little, and he’d been desperate to make a name for himself and win her parents’ approval.
He’d obtained information on the counterfeit coins in Kelk, spotted a messenger from the suspicious mansion he’d been keeping tabs on—and in the process of tailing him, walked in on the fuss between me and Guido. His interest piqued by the counterfeits I’d detected, Ian had next snuck into the estate owned by the Maritime Merchants’ Association, where he’d bumped into Randy by sheer coincidence. He and Randy had introduced themselves, exchanged information, and hurried off to the ship where the kidnappings were taking place. By the time they arrived, however, Prince Chris’s imperial guards had already checked everything out, robbing him of his chance to shine.
I couldn’t help laughing when he’d slumped his shoulders and moaned, “What about my glory...?” Ian had been the first to notice something was wrong and start his own investigation, only for Prince Chris to come along afterward, take all the credit, and settle the matter once and for all.
Plus, Ian had taken the time to check that we orphans were safe and sound. My first impression had been right; he was a kindhearted person. I’d worried about what would happen to Marcus, Maurie, and the rest of my friends once I was gone, but he’d taken good care of them in my absence.
During that time, Randy had inexplicably challenged him to a duel, and it had come to light that he was actually quite the skilled fighter. He’d gotten to know Prince Chris as a natural consequence, and I’d watched from the sidelines as the two of them, perhaps due to their proximity in age or their similar circumstances, grew close enough to be called friends.
Speaking of which, immediately after Prince Chris took me in, I was subjected to days upon days of nothing but studying. I had to learn proper language, pronunciation, etiquette, reading, writing, arithmetic, history, geography, sheet music—you name it. I’d had quite a few regrets at the time. And I’d learned something important: any invitation of the prince’s always came with a catch. A few years later, the girl Prince Chris had been chasing fell victim to the same dilemma, but that’s a story for another time.
“Alan...”
I looked up at the man questioning me with irritation in his voice. He had the same short hair and tall frame as he had back then. His skin was bronzed and his build toned with age. His baby face hadn’t changed a bit, though.
He was brimming with all the same vigor and muscular vitality I remembered him for. Evidently, he’d been training as hard as ever since enlisting in the harbor’s navy. Though he couldn’t have been more than a year older than me, his line of sight had grown much higher than mine, and I instinctively stood straight at attention. Was this, as Prince Chris would put it, the nutritional gap in our upbringings?
This man was a marine dispatched from Sauslind’s Southern Naval Unit—Randolph Eisenach.
I debated how to respond. He hadn’t been informed of the details—about the truth of how our mutual friend, Ian, had betrayed Prince Chris and walked the path to his own demise.
Figuring it was safe to tell Randy, I divulged the full story with no small amount of bitterness. It included everything I’d heard from the Shadows and all the things that had happened up north. What had gone on in the capital and the royal palace. What had been public knowledge and what had happened behind the scenes. Everything.
At the end of the long tale, Randy slumped down into a nearby chair. I’d never seen him like this before. Still, this was no time to be stewing in sadness.
Just as I was about to say something to him, he snapped his head back up. “What about Prince Chris? Is he all right?!”
He was still as excitable as ever—and as compassionate and surprisingly loyal to Prince Chris.
Knowing Randy, he was worried about how Prince Chris was faring after taking his own friend’s life. I was a little relieved to see that he hadn’t changed a bit. The time we’d spent together in the harbor was irreplaceable to me. I didn’t want to lose anyone else.
In my usual manner, I replied, “We won’t know how he’s taking it until later, so why don’t you check on him then? Before that, there’s someone we need to go see. She’s sure to have some damning evidence for us.”
I was just as angry as he was. We’d only spent about a month together after our first meeting, but I’d grown very fond of Ian. I’d never forgive Duke Odin for setting him up, but Prince Chris had already dealt with him. That left one more culprit.
Randy rose to his feet, his expression hardening. He agreed with me, doing his best to reset his emotional state.
With that, we headed to a certain exchange house. It was one of the shops officially recognized by the domain’s government, and was set up in every port town bordering the open sea, in which foreign money could be exchanged through legitimate transactions. Ostensibly, the shop converted foreign currency into the dora that could be used in Sauslind, but the owner had a second persona.
“It’s been a while, Master.”
I remarked from my place toward the edge of the shop that she hadn’t changed, at which a gloomy figure huddled in a corner, keeping her distance from everyone else, glanced up at me. She showed little care for appearances, with her hair tied back in an unkempt style and a slight hunchback. She shot me a nasty glare. Upon catching that look, I couldn’t help flinching the tiniest bit.
She took off the monocle she was using to perform an inspection, quirked her lip a fraction, and urged us to get out of the way. It was her way of telling us not to interfere with her business. At first glance, it seemed like we’d been turned away at the door, but we did as we were told without a second thought. Soon enough, she led us to another room, where we were left to wait for some time.
When she came back, I greeted her again. “It’s nice to see you for the first time in six years, granny. On behalf of my lord, I, Alan Ferrera, offer my congratulations on your continued good health.”
Back then, I’d made the mistake of stepping on the Master’s hot button toward the end of our encounter; I’d heard her natural voice and guessed her true age. I still had vivid memories of the terrifying look she’d given me.
That was one other lesson I’d learned from that whole affair: never guess a woman’s age.
The reason the Master only revealed her true identity to a select few was, no doubt, because she’d be undermined if it came to light that the one running the backstreets was a woman—particularly in a port city so full of ruffians. This time, however, I went out of my way to say things I knew would upset her. After all, her own negligence had played a part in all of this. She acknowledged as much, so she only huffed in response.
“Ian’s own family was one thing, but there wasn’t much I could do about his lover and her family.”
Ian was from a neighboring town. His fiancée’s parents were officials who worked at city hall, in the department that regulated currency.
I cast doubt on her claim, my voice sounding unusually cold even to my own ears. “Surely you must have been keeping an eye on the mayor who worked under the duke? When he kidnapped Ian’s fiancée and her family, didn’t it occur to you that he might be planning to use them for something?”
“Come now,” she said, a hint of irritation in her voice, “don’t make me out to be all-powerful, son. I had my hands full cleaning up the whole city, thanks to that visit from the Malduran delegation.”
It must have been an order from the regional lord who cared so much for prestige and appearances. He’d probably insisted that they couldn’t show their Malduran enemies even a glimpse of weakness. And thus had the cleanup begun.
I couldn’t quite nod my head to that, but I could make some guesses of my own. Ian’s fiancée and her family had been kidnapped and used to blackmail Ian into committing the ultimate crime. Something told me they’d been taken while the Master was busy looking after her own domain—the city backstreets.