Chapter 26

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 26

Chapter Title: Slave Auction Surprise

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'Hmm, looks like he's been flagged after all.'

I silently offered my condolences to the bumbling-looking clerk.

"What brings you here?"

I quickly pulled out my prepared excuse.

"I memorized all the letters yesterday. Wanna learn more."

"Very diligent. The inspection just ended, so please wait. I'll fetch some books."

Nos said that, then left me with the servants and stepped away.

The newly relaxed administrators began to speak up one by one.

"That's him, right...?"

"The 'Eugene Nos' who solved the northern drought while serving in the palace and joined the Emperor's Intelligence Division as the youngest ever?"

"Wow, I never thought I'd see him in person. They say he's a genius without a drop of blood or tears."

Everyone wore expressions mixed with tension and excitement.

'Yeah, right.'

With Nos being so low-key lately, I'd almost forgotten—he was a superstar whose fame reached the capital.

"Why all the nerves? Even Eugene Nos is just another lowly servant like us now."

A burly man spoke up, and a bespectacled woman frowned.

"Charlie, have you forgotten this is in front of Little One? Watch your mouth."

"Celia, why do you always nag me? Don't tell me you like me?"

"In your dreams?"

As their voices sharpened, a tactless clerk jumped in hurriedly.

"Don't fight. What if the examiners see?"

"Worry about yourself, Jacob. You're the most flagged one here."

I eyed the three—Charlie, Celia, and Jacob.

'Those folks have a Knoxston accent—the border region's drawl?'

On the day the fugitive murdered the noble, the hired help testified to hearing mutterings in a Knoxston dialect from his bedroom.

People speculated it might be the killer's voice.

While waiting for Nos in the central hall, I'd observed the clerks, but none had a Knoxston twang.

I grinned inwardly.

That narrowed it down to three, at least.

Even during my lesson with Nos, my mind raced with other thoughts.

'Should've looked up more details on the fugitive in my last life.'

All I recalled were a few famous tidbits.

The fugitive's crime was murder.

Noble murder, at that.

This incident from earlier this year had enraged the entire populace.

The victim had run an orphanage and poured his fortune into caring for abandoned elders and the disabled—a true noble obliging in every sense.

'That's why people joked the temple did it.'

Since the dead noble had been doing all their jobs.

Despite the empire's fury, they couldn't catch him because even his description was unknown.

'So how the heck did the Duvereds nab the fugitive?'

As I pondered, someone knocked on the library door. It was the butler.

For some reason, dark circles shadowed his eyes more than usual.

"The master seeks Little One."

"...'That matter'?"

"Yes."

Nos's slumped shoulders trembled faintly, his face haggard.

"Little One, any toys you want—"

"What's this?"

Cutting Nos off, Ishak and Henri appeared behind the butler.

Ishak shot Nos a sharp glare.

"Trying to cut in line?"

"Perish the thought."

At Nos's awkward reply, Henri smiled slyly.

"Even the Duke's preparing 'that,' I take it?"

"Who knows. I don't know everything His Grace is up to."

"If Eugene Nos doesn't know, who would?"

Nos and Henri's gazes clashed fiercely in the air.

"My apologies. I must see His Grace now. Little One, next lesson in two days."

I nodded with a "Yesh," and Nos bowed to the young masters before leaving the library.

Ishak, glaring at his retreating back, muttered.

"Sneaky bastard."

"......"

"This won't do. Let's do 'that' today."

"Fine by me."

Soon both turned to me.

"Leblain, wanna hit the market today?"

"Let's go!"

The market? Out of nowhere?

I blinked wide-eyed.

'People have been acting weird since yesterday.'

It wasn't just the young masters spouting nonsense.

The maids from the west annex giggled brightly.

[What toys does Little One like best? The young master—]

[Oh, you!]

[Ah, no, we were just curious...!]

And they tittered ohoho.

Even the knights sidled up slyly.

[Ever handled a wooden sword?]

[Gifts should be practical, right?]

I puzzled over it, then my eyes narrowed in realization.

'Ah, tomorrow's Children's Day.'

My first one since adoption, so the duke and his sons were making a fuss.

Duke Amities and Duke Ballua had observed it too.

Amities did everything a guardian should—except give love.

Ballua tossed gifts to avoid public scrutiny for neglecting an adopted child.

'Same deal with the Duvereds, probably.'

Last time the temple priest came to fetch me, the duke snapped his arm and sent him packing.

But skipping Children's Day would prompt temple complaints like, "Why send her if you won't bother?"

Toys overflowed already, but a market outing sounded fun.

"Can I go too?"

"Of course."

"But didn't get permission from Doothie."

"It's fine if you go with us, Leblain."

At Henri's gentle smile, I beamed. "Wanna go~!"

'Gotta pretend to love the toys.'

The carriage took us to a lavish building without a sign.

A man in a half-mask bowed deeply at the entrance.

"This way, please."

I toddled after Henri and Ishak, gawking inside.

'Like an opera house.'

A grand stage fronted dense seating with hardly an empty spot.

We took seats in the VIP balcony on the second floor, not the common area.

Three opulent single sofas sat side by side, far plusher than below.

'Not toy shopping? A show?'

Excitement bubbled.

Toys aplenty already—a performance thrilled me more.

I'd seen opera once, as Duke Ballua's lady.

"What beverage shall we prepare?"

"Earl Grey."

Henri replied curtly, then Ishak, slouched cockily, chimed in.

"Milk—"

He startled, glancing at me.

"—No, black tea."

"What kind, sir?"

"Bitter one."

"Pardon?"

"Bit-ter!"

"Ah... Yes. The strongest brew, then."

They asked me next; I chirped, "Strawberry milk!"

Ishak grinned at me.

"Baby, huh?"

"Ishak's a baby too."

"I'm a grown-up. Black tea for me. Super bit-ter."

Then he giggles, "Baby, baby."

It didn't irk me much. I was a baby, and even grown, the Child of Destiny label stuck me with "Little One." Used to it.

Drinks arrived soon.

Creamy white milk layered over ruby strawberry syrup.

I snatched mine, stirred vigorously, and slurped through the straw.

"Good?"

Henri chuckled; I nodded vigorously.

"Have some treats too."

"Yesh!"

Henri and I savored the refreshments. Ishak? Eerily quiet.

His tea dwarfed Henri's in darkness—visibly bitter and astringent.

And...

"......"

Ishak sulked.

'Knew he couldn't handle it.'

I sneakily offered him my milk.

"Ishak, have some."

"Milk's for babies..."

"Nuh-uh, grown-ups like it too."

"...Yeah?"

"Yup."

Ishak sipped tentatively from my glass.

His face lit up—delicious—then he schooled it with a fake cough.

"Not bad."

"See?"

"You sip once, I sip once?"

He pushed it back my way.

Henri eyed him like a cockroach.

"Order another, idiot."

"...I knew that!"

"Leblain, that one's contaminated now. Let's get you a fresh one."

Ignoring his brother, I popped the straw back in; Ishak quieted.

I slurped the new milk, anticipating the show.

'Play? Or real opera?'

Bringing a kid like me? Probably theater.

I preferred plays over opera; my heart thumped.

Soon, the half-masked man took the stage.

"Greetings to the gentlemen and ladies who grace 'Heaven' tonight."

Surveying the crowd, his lips twisted smirkingly.

"Let the slave auction begin!"

...What?

'No way.'

I gaped at the young masters; Ishak beamed.

"Pick anything you want. I'll buy it all!"

Then it hit me who these kids were.

Right. Budding villains.