Chapter 253: A Peer of the Realm (Timothy)

Timothy Cook stared at the stranger in front of him—well, she had a name, Iola. And she was someone he took in because she both complained about him ignoring her and her not having anywhere else to turn to. All the jewels and expensive items she gave him were still in his bag and not yet exchanged… but even they were secondary to his desire to help her because she needed it.

But now came the truth of the situation. The two of them couldn't ignore this situation and pretend like it never happened. The dead rats were in their places, and it was a good thing that it was only rats… what would he have done if something like a Griffin or a Wyvern swept into the Deworan Tower and caused a wreck?

Someone else would have intervened, and it would have her presence revealed.

A tepid silence continued on between the two of them, a look of hesitation flickering across her face. She tried to place the question back to him, but it was her identity that mattered here. Timothy Cook was nobody important, he was a boy who grew up from a backwater village that had lost his mother and never met his father.

But her?

If the jewelries, the invisibility cloak that might have been an expensive artifact and how she talked and looked wasn't enough of an indicator of her position in life—well, someone hiring to look and scout for her was more than enough to tell that Timothy had signed himself up for something more than just charity.

Iola stiffened slightly and then raised an arm across her chest, "Alright, I shall speak of my identity. I suppose you have earned that much with your valor in saving me from these filthy beasts."

"They're just rats." Timothy frowned. "A lot of them, yeah—but you could make a rat stew with them." He wasn't so sure if he could do it to these creatures hit by his own attack, however. What if there were magical traces or something else in them?

The young woman made a sound that resembled puking and gave him a look of disgust. "These are creatures from a Beast Tamer, and so they are stronger and far more intelligent than those of their normal kind, and yet you vanquished them so quickly. I guess one can find reason why you're a Student here despite your Class."

Timothy's jaw tightened, but then he shook his head, "Just tell me your name—I don't need you telling me that a Cook is a terrible Class. It's how I've been feeding you without actually raising any suspicion."

Iola chewed on her lower lip and then nodded. "I am Iolanthe Sargon."

Timothy had been about to nod back, but then blinked. He wasn't sure if he had heard her say it correctly. He stared back at her. "What did you say?"

"Are you deaf?" her cheeks reddened, and she motioned to herself. There was a sense of elegance when she looked back at him, a powerful presence shrouding her. "I am Iolanthe Sargon—Princess of Yegarian Kingdom. You should be kneeling by now and yet—"

Timothy knelt without even realizing it. His own knee had dropped on the floor with no question. He winced once at the stone and the impact. It had hurt, but it wasn't as shocking as hearing the words come out of her lips.

The Princess looked both pleased and chagrined. She cleared her throat. "I wasn't serious, well I am, but it seems that my Skills are now more prevalent now that you know."

He stared at her for a moment, unsure of what to say.

Timothy could have understood she was an important person, maybe a Merchant Lord's daughter or something like that—she had used a Skill to keep the Illusory Mage to keep his tongue and not reveal her presence. And even when he had talked to the Mage's superiors, they had focused on Han rather than him so he was positive that they had little eyes on him…

But he didn't think that she'd be this important! Why was a Princess here? What was a Princess doing in the capital city? The Castle of the King was like a separate city to itself, detached and separate from his own people if he could recall. Someone like her could have his head on a guillotine or something like that, couldn't she?

"Are you now even unsure of how to address me?" Iola pursed her lips at him. "Your Highness is enough."

Timothy looked up and nodded, "Er, very well, Your Highness." He once read storybooks about Heroes saving Princesses and being awarded the chance to call them by name, and here he was calling her Iola without a clue. Timothy didn't exactly feel gratified by that.

The differences in position meant that he couldn't tell her that this was a terrible thing—

"Argh, address me as you would normally if you didn't know that I was a Princess." Iola glowered at him and shook her head, "How will I be able to even discuss the dire situation if you can only nod to me? This is infuriating because my freedom is at stake."

Timothy blinked and then frowned, "If you're a Princess trying to run away, couldn't you have planned your escape more properly?"

Now it was her turn to blink and then stare at him.

Maybe she expected for him to ask why she ran away and why her freedom was in jeopardy—but Timothy was more concerned about the trouble that he and Han were going to end up in if they got discovered. Although he couldn't deny that he had also begun to care about her state… and yet things were different now.

This was something unexpected.

A Princess trying to escape for her freedom? The two of them were still in Yegarian Kingdom. She should have fled elsewhere if she had been actually serious.

He would rise to his feet and sighed, "I understand that you're in a predicament, but wouldn't you have been able to make a more solid plan than just grabbing an invisibility cloak and then having jewelry? Wouldn't it be easy enough to trace your presence if you sold them?"

She frowned back and shook her head, "Now I'm not sure if I'm regretting whether I allowed you to address me as always—you could talk more than my Tutor and that's something of note."

"I'm just… I don't think it was wise of you to stay here." Timothy scratched his cheek. "Although it's a little surprising that you ran away from your home when—"

"Hold your tongue right there, Timothy." she glared at him. "You have no idea of my circumstances and you do not even ask me. If you understood the situation that they placed me in, then you would find it an honor to serve me… and I can reward you properly."

"You mean these jewels?" Timothy said. "If I sold them—I'd be suspicious."

"N-no! Not that! I can bestow to you something..." Iola—Princess Iolanthe averted her gaze. "But I will only do it if you can help me escape from this predicament."

"You're asking too much from me."

"Then would you rather…" Iola crossed her arms over her chest. "But I suppose I am mistaken, you would not understand it. A man would never understand the troubles placed on me." She would then turn her back away from him and move to her cloak. She grabbed the cloak and clasped it across her shoulders. "If you cannot help me, then I will look for someone else. Just do not stand in my way—that is all that I ask from you. I am leaving."

.

.

.

A Noble looked up from his desk, temporarily postponing the paperwork he was about to fill in to petition a small social event for all the Students.

"What's the matter?" Donovan asked.

"I felt it again—it's even stronger than before."

The aura that exuded across the entire Academy and reached him was enough to make him blink. He might have stood if it weren't for his training.

[ Peer of the Realm ]

It was a skill used to detect the auras of fellow Nobility and people of similar Ranks and higher, and Sir Leon de Harrington was familiar enough with it that he could even detect if the 'peer' that he was interacting with were one of higher and lower ranking than him.

The Primrose House for example was a lower House that gained prestige because of their mercantile prowess and was also known for magical aptitude. And it was why he had wanted to hang his head in shame when he learned that Diov was of the Brande House… it meant that the man didn't consider him a peer or rather he had shrouded his aura so well that he hadn't been able to get a read on him.

But this wasn't Diov, this was someone else.

Was this an aura of distress?

.. .

"For the love of dung beetles!" a curse erupted inside the tavern. Splinters of a table flew and sprayed everywhere inside, and it wasn't because of a drunkard. The man had drunk a lot, but it wasn't the reason why Byron the Beast Tamer had ruined a table and caused some trepidation with the guests.

Scouring the entire city from the first street to the very last one had taken hours, a very long time if one were to be honest—and giving such instructions as such to animals, beasts were already tiring. And yet it so happened that he felt a disturbance in the air, or rather his connection with his creatures.

His rats had died.