The nobles, the royals, and the military.
Magister Mulligan’s words resound in my head. He said those were the three possible suspects in Plinius’s assassination. But then, I remember Plinius’s words.
‘Use your contacts to get the attention of the Royal Guard. I was advised against it, but I believe it to be necessary.’
I look at Tullia for a few moments, pondering my next step.
Do I go or do I... flee?
A Vanedeni should never flee unless required.
This might be required unless you want to zap a platoon of [Royal Guards] to death on my behalf. Also, have I ever asked you what you specialize in? Are you a thunder-mage or something?
But my mental conversation is interrupted by the blond who looks at me surreptitiously and asks what he most likely considers a subtle question.
“Do you want to use the secret—”
I jump up and literally put a hand on Truffles’s mouth before he can tell his parents what we have been dipping our toes into in our free time.
“No, no. No poisoning them with the chemical waste,” I say, faking certainty. And winking at Truffles.
If you were wondering, I had to explain to him that winking is our secret language for when we need to keep something secret. It’s the only way I can have a conversation with him without being arrested.
“Oh,” Truffles says as I remove my hand from his mouth. “Yes. The chemical waste.”
He looks at me, and then he... blinks. He frowns. Then, blinks again.
Right, Truffles still can’t wink.
“Whatever, I’ll check what this is about,” I tell Truffles. “Don’t let them get close to the toxic waste because it could ruin the batch.”
Truffles frowns at me before I wink again at him.
“Right. The batch.”
He blinks with both eyes again, and I facepalm as I’m walking away.
You trust that child with dangerous knowledge, young Luciani.
Truffles’s the best person to trust that stuff with. He’s the most literal and trustworthy person I know. He wouldn’t break under torture.
You might be right.
Plus, it’s so stupidly easy to concoct some insurance, you know? Saponification produces a large hydrating component of many lotions and other stuff. But most importantly...
...
I find myself staring at the same huge, armored men – and probably women – that I saw for the first time when I was still in my jail cell. They are waiting across the street, thirteen of them spread out in two wings, with the thirteenth closing the formation at the front.
“Hello, [Princess], we are looking very armor-y, today,” I smile at the person at the front.
She has the helmet on, and I’m not actually sure it’s the [Princess], but it would be really cool if I actually guessed it right.
“[Princess]?!” I hear Lucinda, who followed me together with Truffles, say.
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Oh, yeah, I didn’t really explain that the [Princess] herself came to free me. No one actually saw [Princess] Laurealia. They only saw a bunch of armored people come into my cell and then come out with me.
What comes out of the helmet, as the armored person takes it off, is the same breath-taking woman with features so sharp you could cut prosciutto with them. Those cheekbones probably stabbed enough hearts to make a shish-kebab if we really need a second food-related metaphor.
She shakes her head to reposition her lustrous, bright purple hair.
Then, she looks at me and growls.
What is she, a dog? I cringe.
“You...” she trembles on the spot, clearly not able to articulate another word out of sheer anger.
“Yes, me?”
“You filthy Human, you lowlife, you bastard.”
“Alright, that’s what the ladies usually call me. So, how can I help you?” I smile and gently cross my arms in front of me. But it’s not courtesy. My nails are already digging into my forearms.
“What did you do?” If she were a lizard, she would probably be dripping acid from her jaws right now. I’ve rarely heard of this level of hatred and disgust for someone.
“If you are talking about Plinius, Your Highness, respectfully, I didn’t do shit. I’m not the one who killed him. You can use a fancy truth-stone if you care to—”
She already has one out, and it flashes green, clearly to her displeasure.
“You think I’m here because... you think we believe you are guilty of that murder,” Laurealia suddenly catches herself off-guard, changing from angry to confused and then to frowny-angry again.
“I mean, I’m not sure you would come all this way to take me out to dinner, am I right? Plus, I already have a girlfriend.”
“The dead [Captain]’s sister,” she says, not hiding her displeasure.
“Yes. And I would like to do away with whatever business you have with me as soon as possible.”
“Human,” she draws the word, “I was close to Amorium on an official visit to the Gens Claudia’s estate when I received word from my Royal Father. I’ll ask you again, Human, what did you do?”
“OK, are we starting all over? [Princess] Laurealia, Your Highness, I have no idea what you are talking about.”
The madwoman puts her hand on her sword, and the rest of the Royal Guard follows suit.
So, how about the death zapping? I ask Magister Mulligan in my head.
You are on your own.
They don’t want to kill me, do they? You would have said a few words of encouragement before the battle, right? Heh, you would have been all obnoxious about how I’m not training enough, and God knows what. Do you actually know why they are here?
I have just gathered some intel, young Luciani. You will be amused.
I won’t, I tell myself, as the air around us is still thick with tension.
“[Princess],” I clear my voice, “I apologize for my bad manners. I can assure you that I have no contact whatsoever with anything – or anyone, for what matters – Royal. At best, I could be a slumlord who cooks for his criminal associates, slicing garlic very thinly for it to dissolve in the tomato sauce. Now, would you please tell me what business you have with me?”
The purple-haired woman is about to speak when a figure robed in a scarlet cloak appears between us literally out of nowhere. The Royal Guard suddenly freezes, and the [Princess]’s nearly reasonable visage returns to a snarl.
“What are you doing in my city, Laurealia?”
“Diana Valeria Scarlatta.”
The [Princess] has the supernatural capability of making that sound like an insult, even though it’s a very pretty name.
Wait. Valeria?
“This city is under our jurisdiction, Laurealia. What business do you have with the Human?”
“Were you following me like a dog, Diana? Is he one of the disgusting vassals of your wretched family? Are you perhaps going to use him to kill a cousin or, better, a brother? That’s what your family does, no?”
I flinch and turn to Lucinda, whose face turned completely white. On the other side, Truffles raises his hand, pointing his thumb at the back of the lab, blinking repeatedly.
I shake my head multiple times before moving my attention back to the catfight.
“What are you doing here, Laurealia?”
“Why, do you own the Human?” The [Princess] growls back.
“Hello?” I say, walking past the scarlet-caped woman and putting myself in the crossfire. “Ladies, please, no need to fight over me. I’m good and not on the market. So, miss... Diana? First time we see each other. Very nice to meet you, but I have some business with the [Princess].”
“Don’t trust that spoiled brat,” Diana says, raising her head and finally showing the scariest eyes I’ve ever seen in my life—fully red... no, scarlet. Just like her hair. A few shades darker than Lucinda’s. “I’m here because I sensed a pampered Royal enter my territory.”
Damn, they need to stop putting all these beautiful women in my way—or not. Lady Luck, I amend my previous statement.
“Well, pampered or not, I’m sure the [Princess] will do some quick business here, perhaps fill out some paperwork, and then be on her way. I have to be on my way too, miss. I’ve got a lot on my plate at the moment.”
Diana simply looks at me the way a tiger probably looks at an antelope before [Princess] Laurealia’s next words leave everyone petrified.
“I’m not going anywhere, Human. I’ve been ordered to work with you.”