Saved By The Mad Duke
Chapter 133: Getting Hands Dirty

Chapter 133: Getting Hands Dirty

"I am truly sorry for interrupting your conversation, Your Majesty, but you asked me to let you know as soon as the witch leaves the inn."

Yuraon’s scout fell into step with him as they walked through a narrow alley behind the long line of various shops, and the king acknowledged his arrival with a brief nod.

His surprisingly pleasant time with the unknown noble lady was indeed cut short the moment Yuraon noticed his scout outside the flower shop, and although he was rather reluctant to leave, he had no choice as the matter was most likely important.

"So she finally left? Where was she headed?"

"Actually... She was heading here, Your Majesty."

Yuraon paused for a moment and arched his eyebrows.

"Here? This is hardly a place for secretive meetings. I doubt anyone important would agree to meet a witch in broad daylight surrounded by all these people."

His scout shrugged nonchalantly and gestured for the King to move again.

"On the contrary, Your Majesty, secret conversations can be drowned out by the noise of the surrounding crowd. As for meeting someone important... She was heading towards the teashop you passed on the corner of the street. There’s a two-story restaurant right next to it; it’s easy to get some privacy in the gap between the two buildings."

"I see. Let’s wait behind the restaurant and spy on them. If she says something dangerous, you will know what to do. I have a feeling we will get our hands dirty today."

The man nodded, agreeing with his lord’s words.

The two of them rushed to the street corner and hid behind the restaurant just as they agreed.

Indeed, the scout was not mistaken, the necromancer witch made her way through the crowd to the teashop and then sneaked into the gap between it and the restaurant, hiding herself in the darkness of the black shadows cast by the walls. The one she was supposed to meet was still not there.

’Who is she meeting here?’ Yuraon peeked from behind the wall, his piercing blue eyes scanning the bustling capital crowd in search of Bjarna’s mysterious companion. ’I do not think it will be a paladin; they are far too dignified to meet in dark street corners... His footman? Or maybe a knight?’

The king’s guess was correct –– the witch was meeting with one of the Holy Knights.

He was a tall, well-built man in a pristine white uniform with golden epaulets, a red ribbon attached to the white overcoat, and a golden badge shaped like a cross that symbolized his service to the Holy Church.

The knight paused in front of the teashop, pretending to look through its windows as if to check whether there were any vacant tables left inside, then carefully looked around, ensuring that nobody was following him, and quickly went into the gap between two buildings, disappearing into the darkness of the shadows.

"What took you so long, witch? We received word that you arrived at the Capital two days ago."

"I was sick. Blame your precious Sarith for putting his leash on me; I can barely withstand any magical impact now."

Bjarna’s voice was quiet yet clear, making it easier for Yuraon and his man to listen to their conversation.

’So Ahspid was right –– she has the paladin’s mark on her...’

The Holy Knight continued,

"Why did you go there? Who asked for you? The spy said you were alone."

"I do not know. The contract erased a good part of my memory; I only remember bits and pieces. But do not worry, I still remember the important parts."

"So? What should I tell His Reverence?"

"The mage is there. I think he noticed the paladin’s mark, and it could not protect me completely. The man is no fool; he used many contractual seals on me, so a lot of my memories were still erased. However... It was not a coincidence that he was there. The woman that lives there, the princess, turns out to be an ice mage. Ahspid is teaching her magic now."

"Magic? What for? And how did he find out?"

"I do not know; I have no memory of asking about that. But she is strong, too strong even. If she were a registered mage, everyone would have been aware of her powers every time she used them."

"Useless old wench. Alright, go back to your forest and don’t you dare leave it again without His Reverence’s permission."

Without waiting for Bjarna’s response, the knight emerged from within the confines of the shadows once again and started walking away. The young King nodded at his scout and commanded,

"Follow him. Make sure he does not reach the Holy Church. But be discreet; make it look like a street robbery."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The moment his scout left to execute his order, Yuraon sneaked into the gap himself, and before the witch could notice him, he grabbed her by the neck and pressed her against the cold brick wall.

"Shh, we both know that making a fuss will not do you any good, witch."

"Your Majesty?!" Bjarna widened her eyes in complete shock, her heartbeat ringing inside her ears, "What are you doing here?"

"It is me who is supposed to ask you that."

Yuraon tightened his grip around the woman’s neck and continued,

"So it is true what they say about the witches––you should never trust them with anything, huh? Why did you do that? Did the paladin know about your trip to The North all along?"

The witch closed her eyes, hot streams of tears running down her pale cheeks, and shook her head, her voice trembling as she attempted to respond,

"N-no, I swear, he didn’t! He was not looking for the princess!"

"So who is he looking for?"

"The mage!" Now, Bjarna’s voice turned somewhat desperate and sad, "Ahspid... He is looking for Ahspid. That is why he put his tag on me, on everyone who was ever close to him."