Chapter 45

Holding a torch in one hand, Shoshanna stepped into the damp cavern. Apparently, the new hideout was a stone’s throw from the palace, underneath a building in one corner of the famous plaza. The upstairs seemed to be some sort of museum. Nearby was a building where public officials came and went, and the amount of foot traffic made Shoshanna anxious. Salvador, who had nerves of steel, showed no sign of concern. Making her way through the spider’s web of passages, she eventually came to a stone cell closed off by iron bars. This dungeon, which could not by any stretch of the imagination be called clean, was where the children in her charge were being kept. “Hey, what’s your name?” An oddly cheerful voice echoed off the arched stone walls. The new hostage was proving no less trouble than the prince. Or were all hostages equally troublesome? Shoshanna, who knew nothing of the world, had no idea. “Then can I choose one for you? Melanie? Sarah? No, neither of those is quite right. Oh, I know—Shoshanna.” Shoshanna’s shoulders twitched. “That’s it, isn’t it?” The girl’s eyes sparkled playfully. Only then did Shoshanna remember that Salvador had called her by name when they met at the covered wagon. “Who knows?” She had no intention of befriending her hostages. She snorted and looked away. “You’re very kind, Shoshanna,” the girl said casually. “How’s that?!” she said, whipping her head around at this unexpected comment. Her eyes met the girl’s. To her surprise, she couldn’t find a drop of anger, resentment, or despair. Her eyes were as clear as a still pond. “Well, you never hit us even if we disobey, you feed us properly, and you let us clean ourselves. You even clean our cell.” Shoshanna was dumbstruck by this noble girl who could remain so relaxed at a moment like this. What a bloody hassle this job was. As usual, Salvador had left the care of the hostages entirely up to her. It seemed his job ended when he threw them in the cell. She knew he was busy, but did he really have to go back to work so quickly? In his place, he’d left a middle-aged guard. The man looked like a typical hoodlum with a brawny build. The first words out of his mouth—“I’ve killed more people than I can count on both hands”—were pretty much standard for petty criminals. Nevertheless, Shoshanna kept her distance and added him to her mental list of people to watch out for. That day, as she was walking through the cool cavern having returned from a shopping trip, she heard a shrill scream. At first, she thought it might have come on a draft blowing in from above, but it hadn’t. The only thing ahead of her was the cell holding the two hostages. She dashed forward, the hair on her arms standing on end. “What are you doing?!” For some reason, the guard wasn’t outside the cell as usual, but inside. At his feet, Lucia was sobbing, her arm pressed to the ground. Ulysses stood in front of her with both arms flung out as he glared at the guard. “I didn’t like the sound of their whisperin’. We’ll be in a hell of a fix if they bolt.” It sounded like a lie. He didn’t need a reason. The man kicked Lucia with the toe of his boot. She screamed in pain as her little body rolled over. “Get out.” Shoshanna’s voice was low. “…Eh?” “Didn’t you hear me? Get out of the cell right now. Your job here is to be a guard. That’s all. I’m the one in charge of caring for them, not you. I don’t need anyone doing my job for me.” The man scowled down at Shoshanna. She narrowed her eyes and recited the magic words. “If you lift a finger against them again, I’ll tell Salvador.” There was silence, followed by the sound of the man clicking his tongue. He threw a final irritated glance at Shoshanna, kicked the iron bars with all his might, and left. Apparently, he didn’t intend to humbly return to his post. The sound of angry footsteps echoed through the cavern, finally fading into silence. The poor little girl was still shivering in fear—or was she? “…Huh?” Shoshanna blurted out. “Uly, that simply won’t do,” Lucia O’Brian said, looking completely unfazed as she sprang up from the ground. “You must never show your strength in a situation like that. You’ll only enflame their cruelty. Instead, you must make them feel satisfied with the minimum amount of violence. Did you see that man’s build? He could squash you with his pinky. I’m sure he had a gun on him, too. You must realize you didn’t have a chance of beating him. Your determination to protect a lady is admirable, but it’s about as useful as a mouse’s poop. It would have been far more effective to sob and plead for mercy. The important thing is to wait for your chance, and to preserve your strength for that moment.” No matter how hard she looked, Shoshanna couldn’t find a single trace of tears on the girl’s cheeks. “Well, what do you have to say for yourself?” The prince blinked several times, then nodded. “Oh, um…” He glanced at Lucia’s red, swollen arm. “But Lucia, he hurt you…” “Oh, that? That’s nothing.” Shoshanna could tell she wasn’t bluffing or protecting her pride. She was simply stating the truth. This confused the silver-haired woman. She could have understood if the girl were a commoner or a kid from the slums. But she was a noble’s daughter who had probably never carried anything heavier than a parasol! “I’m not lying. My arm isn’t even broken, and though you might not guess it, I’m used to taking blows. Of course, I’d be grateful for a bag of ice if there was one!” She glanced expectantly at Shoshanna, who nodded without thinking. A smile blossomed over Lucia’s face. Shoshanna couldn’t help being drawn in by her carefree expression. Ulysses was also gazing at Lucia, his mouth slightly agape. Still smiling innocently, she turned toward him. “Well, Uly, shall we begin with some crying practice?” Her voice was as light and airy as that of a girl asking for a dance at a ball. “After all, even one little trick for surviving is better than none.”