Episode 25

Episode 25. How Many Must Die to Atone for the Wound They Inflicted Upon Her?

Thanks to Cedric’s help, Leonard and I managed to shake off the bandits and ran down the mountain as if our lives depended on it.

I didn’t know how far we had gone before a glimpse of a lake appeared between the tangled trees.

“We should be safe now.”

Only when we saw the black carriage parked by the lakeside did we finally come to a stop.

We had run so hard it felt like my soul had been left behind somewhere along the way.

“Is something wrong?”

The startled coachman fussed when he saw us.

Leonard calmed him down, saying it was nothing serious.

Just as we were finally catching our breath, Leonard turned to me with a question.

“Who exactly is that man?”

“Who?”

“The sorcerer who hurled all those spells.”

“Ah!”

He meant the one who had stopped the bandits.

“I’ve seen many court magicians, but never someone that powerful. Who is he?”

For some reason, Leonard’s eyes held something more than simple curiosity.

“Oh, that man… He’s recently joined the palace as a court magician. We became acquainted by chance since we share a hobby.”

When I replied, Leonard gave a faint, bewildered laugh.

“To think you’re on such friendly terms with someone of that caliber… Your Majesty truly is a mysterious person.”

“I do get told I’m not exactly ordinary from time to time.” I smiled lightly and stepped into the carriage.

But Leonard didn’t follow.

“Aren’t you coming?”

“I still have something to do here.”

“But… won’t it be dangerous?”

Instead of answering, he gave me a soft smile.

Right, it wouldn’t be dangerous for him.

If I hadn’t been captured, none of this would’ve happened to him in the first place.

“Our coachman can wield a sword fairly well. Ordinary bandits won’t pose a threat.”

“Now that’s truly reassuring. Please, be careful.”

“Don’t worry. Oh, before I forget…”

Leonard gestured to the coachman, who handed him a small box he had apparently prepared ahead of time.

“Please accept this, Your Majesty.”

Inside the box was a small ring.

“This is…?”

“I once gave Your Majesty a ring, didn’t I?”

He meant the one Fay had lost.

“Ah.”

The one that had turned up under my bed.

Back then, I’d ordered a new ring to be made just like it.

Using his gift as an excuse.

That was the ring he was talking about now.

“I didn’t want to give you one with the same design as the imperial concubine’s.”

Leonard’s eyes curved in a gentle smile.

“I wanted to give you something with more meaning.”

“Still, a ring… That’s quite the loaded gift.”

The ring in the box was more ornate than anything I’d ever seen—deep blue gemstone, platinum band, and intricate engravings.

Leonard looked down and spoke quietly.

“Originally, I meant to give it to you with a request…”

“Don’t tell me. You’re not going to bring up that lover talk again, are you?”

“……”

So that was what he had in mind.

“My answer hasn’t changed. So I can’t accept this.”

I tried to hand the ring back, but Leonard was quicker. He blocked my hand and quickly added:

“It’s also a token of apology for today’s mishap. Please, accept it.”

He meant the incident with the bandits.

But that wasn’t his fault. He’d only gotten caught up in it because of me.

What was I supposed to do?

As I hesitated, Leonard said in a quiet, earnest voice:

“Please accept it. It’s the only way I’ll feel the slightest bit at ease.”

“…Alright. Then I’ll take it—just as a gift. Nothing more.”

“Thank you.”

Leonard bowed deeply, as always, with one arm across his waist.

As the door shut, the carriage began to roll slowly toward the palace.

Deep in the quiet forest, a lone cabin was engulfed in flames.

The fire devoured it greedily, swallowing every trace of the brothers’ shared memories.

“Heh heh heh, sir…”

The bandit leader, Coleman, rubbed his hands together, bowing repeatedly.

The rest of the bandits behind him kept their heads low, fidgeting nervously.

It was a far cry from the swaggering bravado they’d shown just hours ago when facing Helena and Leonard.

All because of the man standing silently in front of them.

The man in the ornate gold mask.

Behind him stood two more figures in black hoods.

“Well now, it seems the great one himself has graced us with his presence today,” Coleman said nervously.

Originally, it had been the men in black who’d approached him with the job.

But now the one in the gold mask had shown up himself.

From the way the others deferred to him, it was clear he was the one in charge.

“Watch your tongue!” One of the black-hooded men barked.

“He’s not someone you can speak to so casually.”

Coleman flinched and quickly corrected himself.

“Ah, of course, forgive me. I’m just an ignorant man. I misspoke.”

He gave a strained laugh, stealing glances at the gold mask.

“Sir, we did everything you asked. Now if we could just settle the matter of payment…”

The gold mask lowered his gaze to Coleman.

That cold, indifferent stare made Coleman avert his eyes in a hurry.

‘What kind of eyes are those…?’

He’d seen a lot of unhinged people in his time, but never eyes so devoid of warmth.

The chill that ran down his spine made his skin crawl.

Clink.

A small pouch dropped at Coleman’s feet.

The gold-masked man had tossed it.

Coleman snatched it up and peeked inside—then hesitated.

“Sir. This isn’t enough.”

“You dare—!” One of the hooded men roared, ready to draw his sword.

But the gold mask raised a hand and stopped him.

“That’s the agreed amount, isn’t it?”

“It is, but…” Coleman straightened his shoulders.

“The circumstances have changed.”

“Changed?”

“You asked us to rough up a noble lady and some street thug.”

“…I did.”

“But you didn’t say that so-called thug was some kind of monster. Or that he had a mage on his side.”

“…A mage?” The gold mask murmured, as if surprised.

“My men got wrecked. Six seriously injured. One’s nose is smashed, three have broken bones.”

Coleman sighed deeply, as if the memory pained him.

“I won’t even charge for the ones hurt by the mage. I’m generous like that.”

He made sure to look like he was yielding something.

After all, he was still the lesser party here.

“Smashed noses, broken bones… You’re lucky none of them died.”

The gold mask sneered.

Coleman’s face twisted.

“People got hurt. You could be a little more polite.”

“……”

“Anyway, this job has cost us dearly. We’ll be out of business for a while. A little extra would be appreciated.”

“How much do you want?”

Coleman raised his hand with fingers splayed.

“Five gold coins?”

“You must be joking. Five times that.”

“Five times…”

The gold mask’s eyes flicked from the bandits to the half-burnt cabin.

“…You’re right. The calculation was wrong.”

His right hand moved to the sleeve of his left arm.

Coleman smiled with satisfaction.

He nearly reached out for the hefty pouch he expected, but stopped himself, not wanting to seem greedy.

But what the gold mask drew wasn’t a pouch of coins.

Shhk—!

“Aaargh!”

A sharp scream pierced the night.

Coleman collapsed in a spray of blood, stabbed fatally in the chest.

Staring up in disbelief, he locked eyes on the crimson-stained blade.

“Grr… What the hell…?”

“You were right. The payment was wrong.”

“Damn it… We did everything you asked! What the hell did we do wrong?”

“Everything else was fine. Except…”

The gold mask’s eyes turned glacial.

“Who told you to lay a hand on her?”

“Who? The noblewoman? What, the worst that happened was a scraped wrist!”

“A scrape?”

The gold mask laughed coldly.

The emotionless gleam in his eyes made Coleman tremble.

Like he’d been struck by lightning.

“You’re telling me… all this… over that little scratch?”

“It’s more than enough reason to kill every last one of you.”

The gold-masked man declared it like a sentence.

“Still, I’ll give you credit for destroying that.”

He gestured toward the burning cabin.

Coleman flinched at the low chuckle that seeped through the mask.

Then, spitting blood, he snarled.

“Damn it… You’re insane… Fine. Kill him!”

At his shout, the bandits lunged all at once.

Even as he stood in the midst of their murderous charge, the gold-masked man didn’t flinch.

He smiled coldly.

“How many must I kill… to atone for the wound they dared to inflict upon her?”