Chapter 146: Common Ground
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 146: Common Ground
Ferda emerged from the forest and strode toward the village.
Hestia Village.
He sought out a specific house and knocked on the door. Silence met his summons.
Just in case, he slipped his shadows through the cracks to undo the latch and pushed the door open. The room was empty. The man wasn't there.
Where could he have gone?
Where would a stablehand take a princess to protect her?
‘Perhaps he’s there.’
Ferda headed toward the inn district. It was an area originally built to accommodate the influx of adventurers; now, it was mostly frequented by the occasional peddler, as the adventurers had long since departed during a Great Ebb.
It wasn't difficult for Ferda to pinpoint the location. Even in the dead of night, only one establishment still had its lamps lit.
As Ferda pushed the door open, a warning bell chimed.
"We’re closed for the night."
Ignoring the innkeeper’s greeting, Ferda scanned the interior. As expected, he found his man.
It was William.
He sat in a corner, a single glass in front of him. Their eyes met. A whirlwind of complex emotions passed between them in an instant.
"Hey, I said—"
The innkeeper was persistent. Ferda was prepared to snap the man's wrist if he so much as laid a finger on him.
"Innkeeper. Do not be rude."
William stopped the man before he could get aggressive. It was a gesture indicating he would handle the situation himself. Only then did the innkeeper back off, and Ferda approached William’s table.
William stood up to greet him.
"Greetings, Regent. What brings you here at this hour...?"
"I came for a drink. And you?"
"I also came for a drink. I couldn't sleep."
"I recall you saying back at the castle that you wouldn't touch a drop because of the hangovers."
"So I did. If I had known it would come to this, I should have enjoyed a few glasses of fine wine while I was still inside."
Silence settled over them. Amidst a tension as thin as cracked ice, Ferda spoke.
"So, how many glasses have you had?"
Ferda glared at him.
"This is my second."
William averted his gaze.
"You don't look drunk for someone on their second glass."
"I’m the type whose face doesn't flush."
"I see. May I buy you your next one?"
William replied politely.
"No, thank you. I’ve had enough—"
"Are you refusing a drink from the Lord of Hestia?"
Ferda spoke calmly, but his eyes were sharp and dangerous.
"My apologies. Excessive drinking is not a virtue of a knight. Please, let us postpone that glass until tomorrow—"
"Then you shall take a penalty instead."
Ferda pulled out the "penalty" item. It was a dagger.
"If you won't drink, this is only fair, is it not?"
"..."
William fell silent. Ferda’s eyes demanded an answer: Did you spirit the Princess away?
William neither confirmed nor denied it. As the saying goes, silence is a form of admission. It was undoubtedly a 'yes.'
Damn you.
Ferda felt a surge of murderous intent. He wanted to wring the man's neck then and there. Leaving the silent man behind, Ferda called out to the innkeeper.
"Master."
"Y-Yes!"
The innkeeper’s rough attitude had vanished the moment he realized he was speaking to the Regent.
"How many guests are staying at this inn?"
"That is..."
"Don't try to be clever. I am not in a merciful enough mood to stay my hand."
"O-One person."
"A woman?"
"Y-Yes, that's right."
"I see."
Ferda tossed something to the innkeeper. It was a gold coin.
"Go take a piss outside. Make it last for about two hours."
"P-Pardon? You want me to leave...?"
"You’re welcome to stay and watch what happens next. But that thing sitting on your shoulders will end up on the floor. Is that what you want?"
"M-My apologies! I’ll go take a very long piss far away!"
Clutching the gold coin, the innkeeper bolted out of the inn. Once he felt the man’s presence fade into the distance, Ferda spoke again.
"Now, stop being silent and answer me. That is, if there is still a knight left in your heart."
"...Understood."
William nodded, as if he had no other choice.
"What were you thinking, committing such an act?"
"She was... weeping as if her heart were breaking. She said she didn't want to be in a place like that anymore. She begged me to take her away."
"And did you lay a hand on her?"
"By 'lay a hand,' you mean..."
Crunch!
Ferda’s dagger slammed into the back of William’s hand, pinning it to the wooden table. Crimson blood surged out.
"Ugh...!"
William let out a short, sharp groan of pain. Ferda spoke in a chilling voice.
"Answer the question."
"...I haven't touched a single hair on her head. How could I, a mere Security Force Captain—not even a true knight—dare to covet the Princess's virtue?"
The worst-case scenario had been avoided. The urge to wring William's neck subsided slightly.
"Tell me," Ferda asked. "What kind of dream were you having? Did you think that by running away like this, the Princess would somehow open her heart to you?"
"I... I watched her closely as her aide," William said. "I had my prejudices because of her title, but she was a magnificent leader and an inspiration."
"And as a soldier, you couldn't stand by and watch her suffer such absurdity?"
Ferda stared at the man's face. If that high-and-mighty chivalry was just a scheme to justify his actions, Ferda intended to take his head without hesitation.
"The Princess... was about to make the worst possible choice."
"Which was?"
"She was going to take her own life. With a dagger..."
Under the weight of the injustices they had heaped upon her, Olivia had finally broken.
"I saw her trying to kill herself and barely managed to wrestle the blade away."
"And? What does that have to do with what you've done now?"
"She pleaded with me. She said there was no one left in the world to trust, and that she wanted to go somewhere far away, even if just for a moment... So I brought her here."
It was absurd. Ferda asked him, his voice laced with fury.
"Have you lost your sense of judgment? You aren't a knight; you are the Security Force Captain. Did you think I could forgive an act that disrupts the very security you are sworn to uphold?"
"...Of course not."
William didn't believe his actions were right either.
"But if I were to turn a blind eye to the injustice faced by a comrade I’ve shared life and death with, how would that be any different from me stealing her achievements for myself?"
He claimed he had followed his convictions to the letter. If anyone else had said it, Ferda would have dismissed it as a cowardly, pathetic excuse, but William was different.
He could have dodged, blocked, or countered the dagger aimed at his hand, yet he hadn't. Even with his hand pierced, there was no malice in his eyes. He simply accepted it with humility, as if he had known this would be the price.
It was noble, in a way, but it also felt like a slow-acting poison.
"Why didn't you report this to me?"
"It wasn't possible at the time. I intended to report the situation to you tomorrow morning."
"What situation?"
"The Princess's current state is... not good."
"That shouldn't be your concern, should it?"
"That... is true..."
Ferda thought to himself: What should I do with this man?
He wasn't sure yet. Ferda let go of the dagger's hilt.
"Stop the bleeding yourself. And wait here."
"...Yes."
Leaving William behind, Ferda climbed the stairs. He reached a room where a candle flickered faintly in the pitch-black darkness.
Ferda opened the door without knocking. It wasn't locked, almost as if she had been expecting someone.
Inside was the Princess the 'stablehand' had kidnapped.
The moment Ferda saw her, he was taken aback. He finally understood what William meant by her 'state.'
"Olivia Arken... are you truly the Princess?"
Blonde hair and blue eyes. She wore clothes she must have scavenged from somewhere; they were loose at the waist but tight across the chest. Her smudged makeup and disheveled hair created a suggestive, strange atmosphere.
It was surreal. At the same time, he understood how she had managed to escape and come this far. In this state, she looked nothing like the Olivia Ferda knew. With just a change in makeup and aura, she felt like a complete stranger.
Olivia glanced at Ferda.
"What are you doing? Aren't you coming in?"
Ferda stepped inside. Olivia brought the mouth of the bottle she was holding to her lips.
Gulp, gulp.
"Phew!"
She wiped her mouth crudely with the back of her hand. If one thought of her as a princess, her actions were jarringly vulgar.
"So you were here."
"Yes, I was. You did well to find me."
"The Empire is in an uproar."
"I know. If someone steals a jewel, it would be strange if things stayed quiet, wouldn't it?"
Olivia sneered, as if enjoying the chaos. She had referred to herself as a jewel before, but this was the first time her words carried such raw, jagged emotion.
She rolled her eyes to look at Ferda. Her hollow gaze and drunken, vacant expression sent an instinctive warning signal of danger to his mind.
"What did you do to Aide William?"
Ferda replied, "He will be punished. He kidnapped the Princess, after all."
"Don't do that. The problem is me—I know all too well how to use a man like him. A rigid man like that folds easily if you threaten him with a blade."
Her eyes turned toward Ferda again.
"Unlike someone who has no interest in me at all."
She brought the bottle to her lips once more.
"Stop drinking," Ferda commanded.
"Why? Is it unsightly to see a woman drinking straight from the bottle?"
"That behavior is unsightly regardless of who does it."
"Right? Yes, you're right... I hate it too. Depending on alcohol like a pathetic idiot."
Idiot...
Ferda flinched at her blatant use of self-deprecating insults. Even while sitting, she swayed as she reached for the bottle again.
"I used to hate it so much. I absolutely loathed people who drank themselves into a stupor."
"..."
"If you have time to grieve, you should work harder and live more fiercely, right? But instead, they choose pathetic escapism."
"..."
"But... now I understand how those people feel. I tried and tried, but that effort... it just doesn't work. Do you know why?"
"..."
She pointed toward the ceiling.
"Because those sons of bitches in high places are blocking the way."
Hehehe.
She let out a giggle and took another swig.
Thud!
She slammed the bottle down so hard the table nearly cracked. She swept back the hair that had fallen over her face. In her hand, she gripped a dagger.
Ferda looked at the dagger, then asked her, "What do you plan to do now?"
"Now...?"
Olivia leaned back against the chair, her words trailing off.
"What is there to look forward to? I’ll probably just end up like the other noble ladies, spouting nonsense with fake laughter—'ha-ha, ho-ho.' Do you know what that’s similar to?"
"I don't."
"A prostitute."
Olivia rested her chin on her hand and stared intently at Ferda.
"Regent, have you ever played around with a prostitute?"
She’s drunk and saying all sorts of things.
"I have not."
"Well, that’s good then. I’ll play that role for you. Come here."
"Do not do something you will regret."
"Why? There are different kinds of prostitutes. The ones who do cheap things are cheap whores. The ones with the knowledge to play elegantly are high-class courtesans. They say mages love to play with those high-class ones."
"Is that so?"
"You’re thinking it right now, aren't you? Why a woman who is a Princess knows so much about high-class prostitutes."
"..."
"I just came to know naturally. Do you know what the difference between the two is?"
"...I don't."
"Take a guess. Come on, don't just keep your mouth shut. It’s annoying me. Don't make me annoyed."
Her emotions were becoming volatile. The dagger in her hand glinted menacingly. It didn't seem like she intended to swing it at Ferda. She likely intended to use it on herself.
For Ferda, that was the worst-case scenario.
"It would be their status."
"Status! What even is status? Lineage? That noble, precious Golden Blood?"
"Presumably."
"Presumably, my foot. That status is utterly worthless."
"..."
"I don't know how it is for men, but if you're born a woman, you're just a decoration. Whether your husband is a loser or a genius, your job is just to cater to his whims. I wondered how that was any different from being a whore."
Listening to her lament her fate felt like his mind was being contaminated. Even though Ferda shouldn't have cared what happened to her, it still irritated him.
"Because that’s how I’m treated. Even though I commanded the battlefield, those little lordlings who just followed orders are considered superior. Hehe, those bastards."
"Your language is foul, Princess."
"Why? Did you think I was some girl from a flower garden? A witless fool who couldn't even use vulgar insults?"
He shouldn't have said that. At that point, a torrent of abuse erupted from Olivia’s mouth.
"Those fucking pieces of shit, all they do is stare at my chest. Trying to find a way to sleep with me, moving their hands bit by bit to try and touch me. Did they think I wouldn't notice? Those sons of bitches. If they’re so great, shouldn't they at least acknowledge the work I’ve done?"
Olivia spat out curses. Then, with eyes full of spite, she glared at Ferda.
"You're the same, aren't you, Ferda?"
"...What are you talking about?"
"Be honest. You're a man my age. Your urges must be running wild, right?"
Ferda knew she was pretty—beautiful, even. It felt almost inhuman that she could look beautiful even while falling apart like this.
However, Ferda had never felt lust for Olivia. Not then, and not now. She didn't make his heart flutter or race.
When Ferda remained silent, Olivia let out a hollow laugh.
"Since things have turned out like this, should I just change completely? Instead of being a noble flower, if I just become a loose woman and roll around here and there—"
"Olivia."
Ferda called her name. The words that had been pouring out of her like vomit stopped at those three syllables.
"Do not say anything more that you will regret."