Chapter 57

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: No Mercy 57

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“Sierra!”

An unwelcome voice rang out the moment she stepped down from the carriage.

Lifting her head, she spotted Bellieta rushing toward the carriage from a distance.

The maid descending behind her handed over a wide-brimmed hat, which she pressed onto her head before turning around. By then, Bellieta was already right in front of her.

Her hair shimmered like golden silk under the sunlight, her skin so pale it seemed almost transparent.

In the lingering heat of late summer, Bellieta outshone everyone else.

And that was precisely why.

Bellieta had drawn every eye around her.

Swallowing a sigh at the uncomfortable stares focused on them, she slightly lifted the brim of her hat. Bellieta's voice rang out.

“Long time no see, Sierra.”

“Yeah. It's been a while.”

“Have you been well? How could you not send even a single letter? Do you know how much I waited for one from you?”

“I've been busy traveling everywhere and haven't had a moment to spare. If you had something to say, you could've reached out first.”

No need to wait for my letter first, right?

Or would she hate that? Like, whoever contacts first loses or something.

Thinking about it, Bellieta had rarely initiated contact herself.

Except when necessity forced Sierra to reach out first—Bellieta would show up in person, but sending letters was something else entirely.

That made this invitation all the more unexpected... and unwelcome.

Especially since its intentions were so transparently obvious.

“How could I just contact you carelessly when you seemed so busy? I was even worried you might not come when I sent the invitation this time. I'm so glad you did. I'm happy, Sierra.”

“I'm glad you're happy. It's an invitation from a friend—of course I'd come.”

That's why you sent it, isn't it?

What would you have done if I hadn't? Would you ignore that and see what happens?

To the beaming Bellieta, Sierra offered only a silent smile with her lips before turning away.

She took her personal luggage from the servants unloading the carriage and glanced at Bellieta.

At Sierra's look, Bellieta familiarly beckoned a young man over with a flick of her hand.

“Show her to her room and handle the luggage.”

“Understood, my lady.”

The man, who appeared to be a butler, called over more servants, who bustled about carrying Sierra's things from the carriage.

Bellieta, who had been watching the bags vanish into the manor quickly, smiled brightly and started walking.

“This way.”

Sierra merely followed Bellieta's back with her eyes as she strode ahead without another word.

Bellieta's back moved lightly, as if walking on clouds, her hair swaying and brushing against it.

What are you thinking, Bellieta?

I'd love to know what that clever mind of yours is plotting.

“What are you doing, Sierra? Hurry up.”

“Coming.”

As Sierra stood still without following, Bellieta waved for her to catch up.

Switching the bag to her other hand, Sierra slowly trailed after her.

As Sierra drew near, Bellieta smiled again and resumed walking.

“By the way, I heard about it. You've had a lot on your plate lately. From the Genoa Tournament to the military supplies conference. Quite a few twists and turns, from what I hear. You okay?”

Bringing that up first, huh.

She must be dying to see my reaction.

Sierra flicked her gaze sideways at Bellieta's face before looking ahead again.

“I'm fine. That's nothing major. It's just something anyone might go through in life, and you can't falter over something that small.”

“Good to hear. You have no idea how shocked I was when I heard about Genoa. Someone attacking you in the middle of the night—I wanted to rush over so badly, Sierra. I really thought something terrible had happened to you.”

It was the middle of the night, and someone did try to attack me, but “attack” feels a bit too aggressive.

Does she not realize how explicit that word can be?

Skipping over all the other stories to bring that one up with such loaded language— even in this moment, she wants to cut me down.

Swallowing the sneer rising at Bellieta's casual, concerned tone, Sierra spoke up.

“Really? That's surprising, Bellieta.”

Bellieta, who had been two steps ahead, stopped abruptly and turned slowly to face her.

Her head tilted as if asking what she meant, her lips parting slowly.

“Surprising how?”

“I figured you'd bring up something else first.”

Sierra stepped up to stand beside the frozen Bellieta.

Under Bellieta's expectant gaze, Sierra smiled faintly and spoke softly.

“Is Lady Piolett Baylor doing alright? She seemed pretty shaken when Lady Richel nearly killed her that day.”

“......”

“It was a situation where she could've been murdered right in front of everyone. It was so dangerous, I'm still scarred by it. I was really worried seeing how terrified she was, rushing off in her carriage. She's okay?”

Mirroring Bellieta's earlier tilt, Sierra cocked her head.

Bellieta bit her lower lip briefly before slowly smiling and speaking calmly.

“She's fine. But what about you, Sierra? How's your shoulder?”

As if only just remembering to ask, Sierra merely smiled at Bellieta without answering.

Passing the rigidly still Bellieta like a tree rooted to the ground, Sierra took a step forward. Bellieta followed slowly.

Savoring the sound of their heels echoing through the quiet corridor leading back toward the rooms, Sierra spoke leisurely.

“I heard from the investigators recently—Lady Richel almost died during the investigation. Even when they pressed her on why she tried to kill Lady Baylor, she clammed up. Pretty stubborn, right? Wonder why she wanted her dead. They seemed on good terms.”

“There must've been some reason. But I also heard she was so anxious she couldn't eat properly and even tried to kill herself.”

“Suicide?”

“Yeah. Poison, I think?”

Poison suicide, huh.

Chatting idly with Bellieta, they had arrived at the room before she knew it.

Opening the door and giving the room a quick once-over, Sierra turned back with a smile.

“Nice room.”

“You know, Sierra? Your room is the second best after mine. I specially gave you the nicest one, so relax and make yourself at home.”

To Bellieta, who smiled with her eyes as if bestowing a great favor, Sierra smoothly curved her lips in return.

Setting down her bag, she turned as Bellieta moved to leave the room.

“Bellieta.”

“Yes?”

“You said it earlier. Suicide.”

Bellieta furrowed her brow slightly and nodded.

Approaching Bellieta, who wore a subtly uncomfortable expression at the topic, Sierra stood at the doorway as if seeing her off, hand on the knob.

“But where'd you hear that? I haven't heard anything about suicide yet. And you even know it was poison.”

“One of the people involved in the investigation is a retainer of the Bozbon family. Piolett nearly died, you know. I was curious, so I asked around discreetly. Why?”

“Just curious. All I heard was that Lady Richel nearly died from a sudden seizure—not suicide. There are suspicions of suicide, but they could also look into her chronic illness or even foul play.”

“......”

“But you're so definitive about it being suicide—and poison, no less. That's what's surprising. I didn't know that detail.”

Even though I heard it straight from Aden, who's handling the investigation.

Lowering her head with a smile, Sierra heard Bellieta's breath hitch faintly.

To Bellieta, who had walked right into the topic Sierra raised, she smiled brightly and pulled the door open.

“Well, your info from the investigator retainer must be right. I'm probably just getting updates late. Thanks for telling me, Bellieta.”

“......You're welcome, Sierra. I wanted to have dinner together tonight, but I have some business, so it'll have to be tomorrow. Rest well, and see you then.”

“Take care, Bellieta.”

Gazing intently at Bellieta's retreating back, Sierra smirked, lifted the corner of her mouth, and closed the door.

You're still a long way from getting under my skin.

This is nothing to me.

Quietly suppressing her leaking laughter, she slowly unpacked her bag.

“Miss Sierra. This way.”

Arriving at the venue preparing for the magic beast hunting tournament, Riphert, who had been waiting, greeted her.

Even on the morning of the event day, a considerable crowd had already gathered.

Dodging the bustling participants and their cheering supporters, she approached Riphert.

“It's hectic from the morning. The tournament doesn't start until after lunch, but some people showed up at dawn.”

“Probably because so many are more interested in schmoozing than the hunt itself.”

Everyone there was eager for even a word with the Bozbon Duke.

Catching a few magic beasts wasn't their real priority.

Impressing their name on the Bozbon Duke—that was the true prize.

In that sense, the ultimate prey was the Bozbon Duke himself.

As she scanned the surroundings for familiar faces, a woman approached from the side.

Stopping Riphert from blocking her, Sierra stood.

“Miss Sierra.”

“Getia, you've come too.”

Getia, with her long black hair, smiled and returned the greeting.

She was the young head of a massive trading company that did business with the Brilloxen family.

Offering Getia a seat, Sierra sat back down, and words flowed from her mouth immediately.

“I figured you'd come. Nice to see you again so soon after last time.”

“Is it? I still vividly remember you yelling at me to lower the delivery fees—didn't think you'd be glad to see me. I figured you saw me as the enemy.”

“In business, you have to be more relentless than with actual enemies. To me, business partners are the real foes.”

Sierra smirked at Getia's relaxed shrug.

“I didn't think Brilloxen would care much for a hunting tournament. Are you participating?”

“No. I needed people to guard me and act as my eyes and ears, so I didn't pull any separate knights for it.”

Leaning back against the chair and crossing her legs, Sierra watched Getia glance around and raise an eyebrow.