Mary and Theodore went straight to the tavern.

“What if it’s a trap?” Theodore tried to warn her as they walked.

“A trap by whom? Cedric?” she replied without slowing her pace. “It could be if he has spies who’ve told him we’re asking questions, but honestly, I doubt it. Besides, we both have powerful magic.”

She was referring to the fact that they both possessed high affinity for their respective elements, a rarity among mages. The strength or potency of a spell depended on three factors: the mage’s intelligence, their elemental affinity, and the level of the spell. Mary had been born with the highest possible intelligence for a newborn—another rarity. Although she hadn’t leveled up her spells as much as Theodore, who had been training since childhood, her light magic was still formidable.

Mary didn’t know it, but to Bianca, her power and potential made perfect sense. Bianca saw her as the commoner protagonist of an otome game, destined to shine as a beacon of light—what one might call a “saint” if gods still spoke to mortals in this world.

“For the kind of mage he could afford to hire, it’s possible,” Theodore admitted. “But Mary, have you considered that the problem with being mages is that we need time to cast our spells? Unlike Bianca, neither you nor I know how to defend ourselves in close combat.”

He was referring to Bianca’s tendency to wield her sword in battle despite being an earth mage.

“I don’t care. This is the only lead we have, and the water vendor seemed genuine and willing to help. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to Emmy because I was too scared to follow a lead.”

“Yeah, sure, next you’ll say that if we die, it doesn’t matter because Ronan can resurrect us,” he joked dryly, unconvinced.

“Oh!” Mary stopped in her tracks, covering her mouth with one hand. “Did Darius tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Uh, nothing.”

It wasn’t her place to reveal that during their dungeon expedition, Ronan had conserved mana in case he needed to raise their corpses.

Theodore rubbed his forehead with a quick motion, then fixed his gaze on her. He was less calm and collected than usual; Mary could clearly see his concern.

“Listen, if there’s even the slightest indication that this is a trap, I want you to run. Don’t look back. Go straight to the prince. If he’s not at the academy, go to Bianca or even Ronan. Promise me, or we turn around now.”

“And what about you?”

“Promise me.”

“Fine. You have my word.”

“Thank you. Let’s go.”

They resumed their walk to the tavern, this time in silence. Mary initially slowed her pace, hesitant, but at some point, she seemed to reach a conclusion that satisfied her, and she quickened her steps again. Theodore walked half a step behind her, keeping a vigilant eye out for anything suspicious or anyone following them.

The lower district, as its name implied, was the city’s poorest area and also the one with the most crime. Paradoxically, in a world where the gods had forbidden war, crime still thrived. Divine lightning didn’t strike down thieves; it only targeted those who attacked other kingdoms.

As a child, Mary had heard stories from her mother about the last great war against the Demon King and the gods’ subsequent withdrawal. She had thought it unfair that divine power didn’t punish anyone who tried to harm or exploit others. Her mother had explained that the system wasn’t perfect but that Mary should be grateful her brothers would never be sent to fight another kingdom and that disputes were resolved by nobles through games.

A few years later, Mary learned she would attend the royal academy on a scholarship due to her exceptional light magic affinity and extraordinary stats for a level-one mage. She didn’t enjoy politics or competition, but she understood that in her parents’ village, people lived well, and if she could help with her magical talent in the games, then so be it.

Now, however, walking through narrow streets reeking of neglect, with beggars in corners and children seemingly ready to pickpocket anyone carrying a coin purse, she felt terrible. She hadn’t known such places existed in the kingdom. She resolved to send Cedric Thornspire to prison and to ask Theodore to have his father appoint a more competent governor.

“Is this kind of poverty really present in your marquisate?” she whispered when they stopped in front of the tavern.

“I didn’t know about this area either.”

“You have to…”

“Not now, Mary. But don’t worry, if you want me to ask my father to hold the baron responsible, I will.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, stepping aside to let Theodore open the door.

The noise inside, which had already filtered through to the street, grew louder, accompanied by the smell of cheap wine and spirits.

Mary steeled herself and entered. She waited for Theodore, who had held the door for her, to follow before stepping further in. Their academy uniforms drew some unkind remarks from the patrons, but they ignored them. Heading straight to the bar, they asked for Mason.

“Who’s asking?” the barmaid replied, frowning.

“The water vendor sent us,” Theodore said, and although the woman held his gaze, pressing him, he didn't say another word.

The barmaid scrutinized him for a moment before relenting.

“Wait here,” she said and disappeared into a back room.

“Do you think she’s actually fetching him?” Mary asked, raising her voice to be heard over the drunken din.

“Probably asking him if he wants to meet us.”

The barmaid didn’t take long to return, gesturing for them to follow her behind the bar. From there, she led them to a private room.

Inside was a modest parlor with a couple of sofas and several tables. Seated at one of the sturdier chairs was a man with a scar across his face.

“These are the ones, Mason,” the barmaid said before stepping out.

Mary, ever polite, thanked her and greeted Mason.

“Let’s skip the formalities,” Mason said gruffly. “What exactly do you want, and what are you willing to pay?”

Theodore sighed, pulling out a small pouch of coins and placing it on the table without letting go.

“The water vendor overheard us asking about missing girls and a woman looking for her daughter. As you can see, we’re students of the royal academy of magic and combat. We’ve taken on a mission to find a missing girl.”

“Here?”

“In Plinks.”

“Eda, you can come in,” Mason called out.

A moment later, a woman in plain peasant clothes emerged from a door hidden behind a curtain.

“Are you really looking for my Emmy?” she asked, as though she’d been listening to the conversation and Mason’s shout had been unnecessary.

“Yes, are you her mother?” Theodore asked.

“That’s right.”

“Thank goodness!” Mary exclaimed, relieved that Bob’s wife was alive, that this wasn’t a trap, and that they were finally making progress.

“That’s what they say, Eda, but they haven’t shown any proof,” Mason interjected.

Mary pulled a scroll from her jacket pocket, tied with a red ribbon, and handed it to the woman.

Eda unrolled it, glanced at it, and passed it to Mason.

Mary noticed she couldn’t read and hoped she hadn’t embarrassed her. Still, she didn’t regret giving it to the mother first—it was her daughter they were trying to save.

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“This is one of the missions that are issued to the academy every year. It’s registered under the names of your late husband’s parents,” Mason confirmed as he handed the scroll back to Mary. “Alright then,” he continued. “Do you have any idea the commotion you’ve been causing with all your questions? The first two women who searched for their daughters ended up dead in an alley. Eda here nearly met the same fate if we hadn’t found her and told her to hide.”

Mary paled but said nothing. Theodore maintained his inscrutable expression. Mason reached out to take the pouch of coins from the table.

“When Cedric is deposed and a proper governor takes his place, trading in information will be outlawed by the guard,” Theodore stated firmly.

“Then I hope you replace the guards as well. Most of them are corrupt and take bribes.”

Theodore nodded and finally released the pouch of coins, which was no longer his to hold. Seeing this, Mary thought that while Eda genuinely wanted help, Mason wouldn’t have let them speak to her without payment. It didn’t leave her with a very high opinion of the man.

“Many girls have disappeared in this city over the past two years,” Mason began. “The townsfolk grew increasingly restless, tired of the inaction, until it felt like a full-blown revolt was inevitable. However, a few months ago, the kidnappings stopped. Thanks to women like Eda, we know the truth: they didn’t stop, the kidnapper just changed where he operates.”

“You don’t know who it is?” Mary asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

“Of course we do. It’s the baronet Thornspire,” Eda replied sharply.

“Do you have any proof?” Theodore asked.

The fiery anger that had sparked in Eda’s words dimmed in her face, replaced by a hard, steely gaze.

“I’ve spent weeks trying to get proof, but so far, no luck. All I can tell you is that bastard abuses some of the girls—they’ve been found dead—and sells the others.”

“That’s strictly forbidden and punished under king’s law,” Theodore affirmed.

“Then help us expose him, along with his rotten operation. I know he’s preparing a delivery soon. I pray my daughter will be among them because if not…” She held a few seconds of anguished silence, clenching her teeth before answering. “Whether she is or isn’t, that bastard deserves to die. We’ve been trying to find out where it will happen, but so far, nothing. All I know is that it’s happening soon. Maybe tomorrow. Soon.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll help you,” Mary said, horrified by the mental image of young girls abused, tortured, or beaten to death and discarded like trash in alleys or ditches. She couldn’t do anything else but try to comfort the woman.

But Eda, hardened by weeks of anguish, had long since refused to feel anything other than searing hatred. She pushed Mary’s hand away when the younger woman tried to console her.

“Just do it. Bring me that bastard’s head.”

“We’ll do our best to see justice served, not vengeance,” Theodore replied calmly.

“Eye for an eye is justice.”

Mary felt her chest tighten, and she quickly left the room. That conversation unsettled her, too reminiscent of something Ronan might say.

Eye for an eye. Kill him and resurrect him as many times as there were girls he had defiled and murdered.

She heard voices behind her. She didn’t try to make out the words. Instead, she ran, not stopping until she was outside. Or rather, in an alleyway—a dangerous place for an eighteen-year-old girl.

Theodore appeared behind her, running to catch up.

“Mary, wait for me.”

“I—I can’t handle this. I can’t,” she sobbed, leaning against the filthy stone wall of the tavern.

Tears streamed down her face, falling in torrents as though her very soul was fracturing.

“Look, the world isn’t perfect. I wish it were. And I’m deeply sorry this happened in my father’s marquisate. I promise you I won’t let it continue.”

Through her tears, she looked at her friend.

He looked genuinely worried, his large green eyes filled with pain—though Mary couldn’t tell if it was for the situation or because he hated seeing her like this.

“Come on, this isn’t a good place to be. Let’s go.”

He held out his hand, softly murmuring the incantation for a water shield.

Mary took his hand and allowed him to lead her away.

She didn’t notice the shield or the fact that it wasn’t necessary. From within the tavern, Mason’s men were keeping watch through the windows.

The tavern keeper, despite having taken their money, wanted Cedric either behind bars or dead. He wouldn’t let anything happen to the two students in the lower district. He had already sent a couple of his men to escort them discreetly.

----------------------------------------

“Are you sure you don’t mind being the one to distract him?” Mary asked Theodore once they were back at the baronet’s mansion, feeling much calmer after eating and taken a half-hour nap.

Originally, the plan had been for both of them to dine with Cedric, but Theodore had excused Mary, telling him she wasn’t feeling well—which, in truth, wasn’t a lie after all. Meanwhile, Berta had gone to the kitchen and brought her a tray of food to her room.

Mary wasn’t accustomed to taking afternoon naps, but after the distress caused by what she had learned about the missing girls, she welcomed the respite that sleep provided.

Now, the two of them sat in a small sitting room on the mansion’s first floor, accompanied only by Berta, who remained quietly in the background.

“Mary, you’re determined to find Emmy, and I’m not about to leave you alone with that man,” Theodore said firmly. “During lunch, he kept pressing me about you, insisting you should join us. I had to remind him of his place—as a host, on an estate that belongs to my father’s marquisate.”

Mary shuddered at the thought. The idea of being left alone with Cedric, even with Berta present, wasn’t just unappealing—it was utterly repugnant after witnessing his true nature.

“This evening, before dinner, I’ll ask him for a detailed account of how the city is managed.” Theodore explained. “I’m sure he’ll lie and heap praise on himself. That alone should keep him occupied for at least an hour. Meanwhile, you can search his study, the library, and, if necessary, his bedroom. Be very careful—take Berta with you, and at the first sign of trouble, leave immediately. I don’t want you taking any risks.”

“Yes. And during lunch, you couldn’t get anything useful out of him?” she asked.

“No. I didn’t push the matter too directly to avoid arousing suspicion. We talked about the city’s management, and when the subject of security came up, he only praised himself, claiming the crime rate here is practically nonexistent.”

“Nonexistent?” Mary raised an eyebrow, a gesture so uncharacteristic of her that it seemed out of place.

Theodore shrugged.

Mary sighed.

“Berta,” she said, turning to the maid, “I know it’s a lot to ask, but instead of staying with me and keeping watch, could you help with the bedroom? Perhaps pretend to be one of his maids and search for anything suspicious there.”

She had already told Berta about the missing girls, and the maid seemed more than willing to help.

“Of course, leave that room to me, miss. I’ll handle it. And don’t worry—I spoke with some of the staff earlier. Since the baronet tends to overeat and drink, he usually stays up late and then naps after lunch. That’s when the maids go in to tidy up his room. I think I can convince today’s assigned maid to let me accompany her. She has a young daughter she barely gets to see and would probably welcome the help.”

“But won’t it be hard to search properly if you’re not alone?” Mary asked.

“She won’t let me in there by myself—it’s her master’s room. But don’t worry; I’ve got a plan. I’ll place a small piece of cotton into the strike plate—the part of the doorframe where the latch clicks into place.”

Seeing Mary and Theodore’s puzzled expressions, Berta elaborated.

“It’s simple. The maid opens the door, I go in with her, and discreetly place the cotton. The door will appear to close, but the latch won’t catch. We’ll clean the room, and while she’s folding clothes or making the bed, I’ll discreetly search the drawers or anything else I can. Once we’re done, we’ll leave. She’ll think the door is locked, but it won’t be. Later, I’ll return alone, push the door open, and search thoroughly—under the bed, in the mattress, even feeling inside the pillows in case something’s hidden there. When I’m finished, I’ll remove the cotton and lock the door properly.”

Theodore tapped his fingers lightly against the upholstered armrest of his chair, deep in thought.

“I wouldn’t have expected a maid to have such resourcefulness, but yes, it could work. In fact, Berta, I think your idea is excellent,” he praised her.

“Thank you. And don’t worry about the study, miss. I noticed this morning where the housekeeper keeps the keys. There are only three sets for the whole house—one for her and two shared by the maids, since this mansion isn’t large enough to require more. I have a good memory and saw which key they used to unlock the study. I’ll get it for you.”

“You’re a treasure, Berta. Thank you so much,” Mary said warmly, silently wondering where Bianca had found such a remarkable maid.

They remained in the sitting room for a while longer.

Berta left briefly to speak with the other maid and offer her help. She returned shortly, nodding to confirm her success. Theodore then went to find Cedric.

The plan was clear: if Theodore didn’t return within fifteen minutes, Mary and Berta would begin their search.

“Miss, it’s time,” Berta said once the allotted time had passed.

“Yes, thank you.”

Feeling a mix of nerves and determination, Mary stepped out of the sitting room with Berta. The maid walked with a purposeful stride, exuding the confidence of someone who knew exactly where she was going. Mary, not wanting to appear hesitant, straightened her posture and projected the same confidence as they headed toward the library.

Of the two locations—the library and the study—the library was the safer choice. It wouldn’t seem unusual for a guest like her to be there. Perhaps she should have started with the study, but she felt the need to build her courage by beginning with something less daunting.

The library was, in fact, empty. Mary let out a small sigh of relief and began inspecting the bookshelves—three in total—in case any important documents were hidden among the volumes. Finding nothing, she moved on to the drawers of a wooden filing cabinet. Twenty-five minutes passed with no results. At least she hadn’t had to explain herself to anyone, as no one had entered the room.

Gathering her courage, she stepped into the hallway and headed toward the second door on the right: Cedric’s study. She checked the corridor for any sign of movement before pushing to open it.

It was locked.

She pulled out the bundle of keys Berta had provided and searched for the one she needed. The maid had proven to be exceptionally resourceful, and Mary made a mental note to thank Bianca for her.

Trusting that if someone noticed one of the two key bundles missing, they would assume a maid had taken it, Mary unlocked the door and slipped inside. Berta had assured her that this wouldn't raise any suspicions, unlike pulling out the key and having someone notice it was gone.

She closed the door carefully to avoid making any noise, and the latch clicked shut. While she could exit without a key thanks to the handle, re-entry would require the key again.

Lighting one of the oil lamps, she appreciated that the heavy curtains on the tall windows were drawn, and she hurried to search the room.

What she found in the double bottom of one of the desk drawers confirmed her worst fears. She wasn’t experienced in detecting hidden compartments, but Berta had explained what to look for. She discovered a tiny concealed button that opened the false bottom.

Inside was a list—names of girls up for sale, the time and location of a meeting with buyers, and even detailed pricing for each child.

It took all her restraint not to crumple the paper in anger. (The fact that it was paper, not parchment, struck her as another oddity, given how rare paper was in this kingdom.)

Forcing herself to breathe steadily, Mary replaced everything exactly as she had found it. She moved to the door, pressing her ear against it, but hearing nothing, she prepared to open the door.

But then, voices and footsteps echoed down the corridor.

Someone was approaching.

And there was nowhere to hide. If she did it behind the thick curtains, someone could see her through the windows which the curtains were covering, and there was no furniture or cabinet large enough to conceal her.

Then she recognized Cedric’s voice.

Fear seized her.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Theodore had promised her more time.