Chapter 25.2

“Um, excuse me, Sir Franz. I believe a physical chase will be difficult with Monat with us. Would it be possible to tie her up somewhere.”

“And if she got stolen in the meantime, even your life wouldn’t be able to pay for it. Taking her from that bookshop was hard enough, since they kept insisting she was their property and all…”

“What if it really was bequeathed to them by His Highness…?”

“Doesn’t matter. We not only have to find His Highness, but we must also bring back the national treasure that he took with him when he left the palace. Looking at how he gave Monat away just like that, the Cloak of Celestial Fenryl may also be in trouble. Everyone, keep an eye out to see if anyone’s wearing something that doesn’t suit their station.”

The Cloak of Celestial Fenryl. Strong enough to block arrows, but light in spite of its bulk—it protected the wearer from both the cold and the heat. A precious item that had been carefully guarded as the kingdom’s treasure until it was brought out for Bertram in the past war.

Bertram, standing at the battlefield with his black fur cloak thrown around his shoulders, had been like the symbol of death to their enemy soldiers.

At the same time, to their own, he had been the small hope in the midst of bleak despair that, ‘even if I die, that man will avenge me.’

If the war had ended in victory, that very striking figure would have most certainly been painted as a sprawling mural on one side of the palace’s halls.

Each calling up their own memories of that image, the soldiers vowed in their hearts that they would find the national treasure, wherever it may be, and wrap it around His Highness’s shoulders once more.

Not once would they every imagine that that very cloak was, at that very moment, hanging on a laundry line after it had been used to wipe the entirety of the public sleeping quarters in Bertram’s two hands.

Meanwhile, at the public workers’ quarters…

Carla left the building, leaving behind a command to ‘rest so your injury doesn’t get infected.’

The amount of time Bertram obeyed faithfully to this order: exactly one hour. After that, he could no longer stay still and swept the yard at the quarters.

Around lunchtime, a few of the workers from the farm poked their heads out, their tongues waggling.

“Oi Mr. Bertram, aren’t you a masterly expert. You could be an innkeeper, eh?”

“You flatter me. But what is the occasion?”

“Just here to eat.”

In no time, the workers had a fire going that they hung a pot up to. They splashed in fresh green vegetables that they’d just brought from the farm.

“You will be making your own food? Doesn’t Miss Anna normally bring you your meal?”

“She’s strangely late today. We can’t wait any longer; we’re too hungry. Are you going to have some, Mr. Bertram?”

“No. I am wondering if there is any possibility that some trouble has happened down towards the village.”

“Then the vigilantes would have rang the alarm. Why, is there anything you’re thinking of?”

Bertram retold what Carla had said earlier verbatim. That the wolves had been wounded, and how it had seemed they were forced thataway due to trained soldiers.

Interested, the workers nodded along slowly until they got to the “it could be some bigwig coming through town” part, at which they scowled right away.

“You really think someone might be coming? There has never been a single time someone high-up came to our village and it was good.”

“I’ve heard that the entire village was placed under requisition once. Is it because of that time that you dislike nobles?”

“That’s not all. After the war ended and prisoners on either side were being returned, there was a case where all the injured soldiers on our side just disappeared out of thin air, did you know? And all those high-up folks said that it happened around here and flocked to our town to ‘investigate.’ That was no joke. ‘Give us meat, give us your beds,’ ugh.”

“You’ve truly suffered.”

“That’s what I’m saying. And besides, even before the war, this one noble b*st*rd who had nothing but a clean-shaven face came and…. No, let’s stop here. What’s the use of recalling all this when all it does is make me mad again!”

Another worker piped in.

“That’s right. All nobles are maddening. And they’re no help to us at all!”

“You just wait until someone new comes and overturns the entire village again. I’ll plant his entire body into the farm myself, up to his head! Even Anna would approve of this, I’d say!”

Looking at each other, the workers cackled among themselves—during which Bertram resolved to himself.

His true identity should never be discovered, ever.

Soon, the pot boiled along. The workers dipped dry bread into the vegetable broth, without a single gleam of oil on it. After they tricked themselves into feeling full with pointless chatter, they left for work once more leaving behind the message to Bertram to bring back a snack if he met Anna later.

Bertram, too, was gradually preparing to go down to the restaurant, when he saw someone coming up to the quarters hastily.

It wasn’t Anna but a village man, and his two hands were empty. In other words, he was not here as a meal delivery man.

“Oi there, Mr. Bertram! …Why are you looking at my hands?”

“It’s nothing, sir. What is the matter?”

“A couple random noblemen are looking for you. The chief is holding them up for as long as he can at the restaurant, but since we don’t know when they’ll start looking around again, he said you should stay holed up in the quarters.”

Noblemen, he says.

Though he was thinking that it was obvious who they were, Bertram asked an extra question just to make sure.

“Was there an exceptionally handsome man mixed into that group?”

“I don’t know, but chief said, ‘If you took off that face and sold it separately, it would get you a chunk of gold, only for it to be refunded a few days later because of how irritating it is’ about one of them.”

He did not need to ask a single question more.

Franz Gerhart.

Bertram’s old friend had endeavored to come here himself.