Goal (2)
“Well, now…”
Sage’s jaw hung open in blank disbelief at the young prince’s reply.
“Master? What’s the matter?”
Edwin asked, bewildered by his master’s peculiar reaction.
“No, it’s nothing. Just unexpected. I never imagined hearing such words from a timid little whelp like you.”
Sage stroked his beard, a spark of amusement in his eyes.
“Not to mention, it’s far too grand an ambition for someone in your current state to utter.”
At the old man’s blunt assessment, Edwin’s shoulders immediately slumped, his face falling into disheartened gloom.
“Well, though I suppose that depends on how you define ‘strength.’”
Crossing his arms, Sage looked down at his young disciple.
“What kind of ‘strength’ is it that you seek?”
Edwin answered without a shred of hesitation.
“I want to be strong enough to defeat a magic beast all on my own!”
“Hmph. Hardly my field of expertise, then.”
Sage snorted in mild disdain at the prince’s answer.
“I doubt you intend to learn how to swing a staff around from an old man with one foot already in the grave.”
Looking thoroughly bored, he grabbed a random book and began flipping idly through the pages.
“You’ll have to find yourself a different master for that sort of thing.”
Anxious concern instantly clouded Edwin’s face at the mention of seeking yet another master.
Where in the empire could he find anyone willing to teach a penniless prince?
Even Sage standing before him might never have become his tutor had he not been stripped of his former status as a criminal.
Someone else would have whisked him away to teach my brothers long ago.
Edwin bowed his head, utterly dispirited.
At that, Sage raised his voice as though he couldn’t bear to look at such a pitiful display.
“Tsk, you little brat!”
“Pardon?”
“A wet-behind-the-ears squirt like you has far too many worries! Don’t fret over it. That matter will take care of itself.”
Sage flashed a sly, somewhat mischievous smirk as he told the prince not to worry.
“Isn’t that right?”
The moment Edwin realized his master’s smirk wasn’t directed at him, he turned his head.
Standing by the doorway was his nanny, Rachel.
“What was it you wished to say to me?”
Only the old man Sage and I remained in the library. He had claimed he had an urgent matter to discuss with me in private and sent Edwin ahead. The boy, dutifully obeying his master’s instruction, had slipped out of the room without a fuss.
“I am a busy woman. Please get straight to the point.”
Leaning against a towering bookshelf, I waited for Sage to speak.
“It seems to me that you and I still have plenty left to discuss,” Sage said, narrowing his eyes as he studied my face with an intense gaze. “Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?”
“I have no idea what you mean.”
When I feigned ignorance, Sage let out an amused chuckle.
“Tell me, Nanny. What are the odds of an ordinary nanny taking down a magic beast with nothing more than a worn-out dagger?”
My brow furrowed instead of offering an answer.
I never said a word about killing that creature with a dagger. How could he know?
The only person who had witnessed me slaying the monster in the flesh was Edwin.
Don’t tell me… that boy blabbed?
“Edwin told me.”
Sure enough, my suspicion was spot-on. I should have warned him more strictly never to breathe a word to anyone about me killing that beast.
“He said you saved his life. And demonic creatures are relentless—there’s no escaping one unless it’s dead.”
I grimaced at his deduction. Ever since he arrived at the palace, he hadn’t brought up the monster or the name ‘Kyla Angel,’ so I had assumed I could slide by quietly.
Apparently not.
When I offered nothing in return except a cold glare, Sage pressed on.
“I realized long ago that you were no ordinary woman. One look at your speech and bearing tells me that much.”
The great sage’s voice rang with absolute conviction.
“As far as I know, there are only three kinds of beings capable of felling a magic beast single-handedly: knights, mages, and…”
His piercing gaze locked squarely onto mine.
“…highly trained assassins.”
Sage apparently believed I was some subordinate of Kyla Angel. Well, mortal imagination could only stretch so far. Even I had never anticipated dying only to wake up possessing another woman’s body.
“You’re cut from the exact same cloth as Kyla. Aren’t you?”
“Whatever you might be imagining, I—”
“Or could it be…”
Just as I began to formulate an excuse, he drove in the final blow.
“…Are you Kyla?”
A suffocating silence descended over the library.
Yet contrary to the stillness of the room, my mind was in absolute turmoil.
From where did he deduce it?
How did he figure it out?
Could anyone really see through it this easily?
Piecing together that I was an assassin was one thing, but leaping straight to Kyla?
…To Kyla, of all things?
As I stood frozen stiff like a plaster statue, Sage broke the silence.
“Judging by your lack of an answer, my absurd guess wasn’t entirely off the mark after all.”
He stared at me for a long beat, and then suddenly burst into roaring laughter. It was such a hearty, unhinged cackle that I genuinely wondered if he had finally lost his mind.
“Bwahahahahaha—!”
“What in the world is so—”
“Of course! There was no way a pest like you would die so easily! What on earth is that getup, anyway? Undercover employment this time, Kyla Angel? Well, for once your disguise is actually quite convincing—”
I clamped my hand over his mouth before he could blare my past name any louder.
“Do not call me by that name. I am Rachel Brown.”
“Right, right. Lady Rachel Brown. Ha! I haven’t heard anything this hilarious in years.”
Sage collapsed back into his chair with a look of utter, dazed amusement.
I couldn’t fathom his reaction in the slightest.
Wait a moment.
There was an inexplicable dissonance lingering in the words Sage had just spoken.
Frowning, I blinked slowly.
“…Did someone tell you that Kyla Angel was dead?”
Not once had I ever told him that Kyla had died. I had merely claimed that I came on Kyla’s behalf to collect on the Life Debt.
So how does he know?
Sage’s brow furrowed in return at my inquiry.
“I should be the one asking you that! Why on earth did you give away my hideout to some knight I’ve never even seen before?”
A knight? What knight?
“When I first laid eyes on him, I thought he was a demonic creature! Smelling of raw blood from head to toe, smashing down my front gate!”
“Who on earth are you talking about? What was his name?”
“How should I know his name? He was just some massive knight draped in filthy black rags! Barged in out of nowhere and demanded to know if I was the one who killed Kyla Angel.”
Not whether she was dead, but whether he had killed her.
That question implied he already knew for certain I had been murdered by someone.
Sage rubbed his forearms as though shivering at the sheer memory.
“So when I asked back in disbelief if Kyla had really died, he stood there staring for a while before muttering, ‘It wasn’t you, then,’ and vanished into thin air.”
“What did he look like? Did he have any defining features?”
“His hood was pulled down so low I couldn’t see his face properly, but his eyes were downright savage. Like a ravenous beast.”
“Stop giving me vague impressions and give me specific details.”
“Mmh… he carried an enormous greatsword. A pitch-black blade as massive as his own body.”
A hulking knight with beast-like eyes wielding a black greatsword?
Who could that possibly be? Had I ever crossed paths with such a man in the past?
The only knight whose name I even bothered to remember was Duke Crowner.
There was no reason for a man that busy to travel all the way to Luxen just to look for me.
Besides, he wouldn’t even know I was dead, so he’s ruled out.
As I silently sifted through my memories, Sage continued.
“So because of that bastard, I was completely convinced you were dead.”
“…You believed the word of a total stranger? You of all people?”
“Well, the fellow looked ready to tear someone limb from limb.” Sage rolled his eyes and added quietly, “Like a man hunting down a mortal enemy.”
Did he consider me his sworn enemy? Or was he hunting the person who killed me? Either way, people who bore grudges against me were too numerous to count; I couldn’t even hazard a guess.
In any case, I had no means of discovering the identity of The Knight of the Black Greatsword.
Still, it’s a relief.
It was a relief that the source of Sage’s information hadn’t been the assassin guild.
…Because Ian is nothing if not meticulous.
I had never spoken of Sage to anyone, but one could never be too cautious. If Ian had murdered me, he would have sought to erase every single trace I left behind. Starting from what he already knew, all the way to things he hadn’t yet discovered.
He would have scrubbed everything, as if I had never existed in this world at all.
Because that was Ian Angel’s way of ‘killing.’
“What is it, Kyla?”
“…Rachel.”
“Tsk, that name just doesn’t roll off the tongue.”
“You managed just fine until now, so what are you talking about?”
Though my thoughts were tangled, I forced myself to maintain composure.
“So, is that all you wanted to discuss?”
“No. Now I have something to say in my capacity as the prince’s tutor.”
Sage crossed his arms once more.
“What do you intend to do with Edwin going forward?”
What did he mean, what did I intend to do?
I quietly held Sage’s gaze.
“The boy said he wants to become strong. Were you aware of that?”
Of course I was. How could I not be, when I had personally promised to forge him into someone strong with my own hands?
“Yes, I am aware.”
“Well, now.”
Sage arched a skeptical brow.
“And do you understand what that truly means?”
“What point are you trying to make?”
“Listen here, Kyl—no, Rachel.”
Placing both hands on his hips, the great sage spoke with grave solemnity.
“For an imperial prince to build strength is virtually identical to declaring his entry into the Throne Succession Struggle. Surely you aren’t going to tell me you didn’t know that?”