Chapter 529: A Letter

The morning bells rang out, and a pale fish-belly white spread across the edge of the sky.

The ball had dispersed long ago. Those ornate carriages, too, like an ant colony sated with food, had already passed beyond the towering palace walls and departed.

Only at the very moment before the first true rays of sunlight touched the earth did a black carriage without any distinguishing features silently drive out through the palace gates, quickly vanishing into the shadows of the city.

“So...”

Inside the smooth, quiet carriage, black-silk-clad long legs crossed beneath a formal gown. Celicia folded her arms, lifted her smooth chin slightly, and looked down coldly at Muen, who had already reverted to his original appearance.

“While I was struggling at the ball, dealing with those idiots, standing in the cold spring night until my feet hurt, you were actually flirting with Ariel—and even threw in a sneak attack on my dear eldest brother, wasting a huge amount of time along the way?”

“No... that doesn’t sound right, does it? Those nobles may be stupid, but they wouldn’t be stupid enough to trouble you.”

Muen gave an awkward, sheepish laugh.

“Besides, wise and valiant Princess Celicia, you’re a fifth-tier martial artist. How could standing around for a bit possibly make your feet hurt?”

“You’re not denying the flirting part.”

“No, that’s not right either! I clearly explained the whole situation to you in detail, Celicia—how could you possibly call that flirting?”

Muen thumped his chest with clenched fists, his expression solemn and indignant.

“I swear to the heavens—I'd rather starve to death, die outside, jump off from here, become an ugly man no girl would ever like, than have even the slightest interest in that dead steel board! The way you suspect me is an insult to my taste!”

“Aren’t you a leg man?”

Celicia swung her long legs lightly. “And a black-stockings man at that.”

“When did I ever say I was—pff—very sorry. I do, in fact, like legs a little.”

Watching Muen, whose body had curled up like a boiled shrimp while his face still carried a hint of enjoyment, Celicia sighed helplessly and slowly drew her black-silk legs back.

“So, have you decided to help Eldest Brother Albert after all?”

“More or less.”

Muen rubbed his stomach, still faintly scented, and instantly turned serious.

“Just as Prince Albert said—an enemy’s enemy is a friend. Since the Inner Council has clearly chosen to stand behind the Second Prince, I can’t let him get everything he wants. Helping Prince Albert has, for me, effectively become the only option as well.”

“You’re not considering retreat at all.”

“Do you think I’m the type to back out once things have reached this point?”

“Stupid.”

“It is pretty stupid.”

Muen lowered his head and looked at his hands, watching his five fingers slowly curl as if to crush something completely.

“I said it before. Some people, some matters, must pay a price. That’s exactly why I came.”

“...”

Celicia’s cool eyes swept over the man before her—foolish beyond help in her view, spouting such chuunibyou lines—and an inexplicable spark of irritation passed through her heart. Still, she said nothing more. Resting her cheek in her hand, she turned to look at the fire-colored clouds layered across the dawn-lit sky.

The clouds rolled, as though trying to obscure the main sun’s brilliance, yet they would inevitably be pierced by that scorching light.

The carriage moved swiftly. The scenery outside the windows flashed past as it passed through the clean, orderly streets of the upper district, crossed the bridge linking the upper and lower districts, and, amid the thin mist drifting up from the riverbank, returned once more /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ to the lower district.

Unlike the still-quiet upper city, before dawn’s light had fully arrived, this bustling, crowded district had already awakened.

Celicia’s eyes reflected the hurried passersby, her gaze following a little girl holding a pinwheel all the way to the end of the street.

“So that’s all you and Eldest Brother Albert talked about.”

Celicia asked suddenly.

“That’s right. After that we discussed some details of the charity banquet. But just like the rumors you mentioned, Prince Albert—someone who’s been tormented by the royal curse for over twenty years—is extremely capable. He’s arranged everything flawlessly; he’s just lacking the manpower to carry out his plans.”

Muen looked at Celicia’s profile.

“What—did you notice something off?”

“A problem... is there... or not?”

Celicia tapped her fingers against the window frame.

“What do you think? You spoke to him directly—did anything about him seem abnormal to you?”

“...I’m not really sure. After all, I don’t know him well. You could say this meeting was the first proper one.”

Muen’s mouth twitched. Wasn’t it you who told me to probe him? And now you’re asking me?

“But when it comes to the Eldest Prince, there’s one thing I can be sure of.”

Celicia shot him a glance. “Say it.”

“That Eldest Prince is indeed better suited for that position than your other brother, Andrew.”

Muen straightened up and spoke earnestly.

The carriage wheels rumbled as a sudden acceleration raised a rush of wind noise, completely drowning out words that absolutely could never be spoken freely before outsiders.

“Heh.”

Finding such an obvious conclusion boring, Celicia gave a soft chuckle and turned back to the scenery outside.

“Sir, your letters.”

A courier appeared beside the carriage, lowering the brim of his hat as he swiftly slipped several letters into the cabin.

Muen casually took the envelopes, his gaze quickly sweeping over the familiar family crest embossed on the seals.

After confirming it, he did not avoid Celicia at all and opened it directly.

“What is it?”

Celicia continued resting her cheek in her hand, gazing out the window as she asked casually.

“I asked the family to help investigate something.”

Muen spread the letter open and added,

“The supply channels of that food processing plant from before. We didn’t catch anyone important, but they couldn’t have left no traces. We should be able to find something through this.”

“And the results?”

“There are indeed a few supply routes that are very strange...”

Muen narrowed his eyes.

“Heh—several nobles are involved as well. Could that famous Mr. Robin be among them?”

“Let me see.”

Celicia reached out her hand.

Without the slightest hesitation, Muen handed over the letter—one that could expose part of the Campbell family’s intelligence network—just like that.

Celicia’s eyes skimmed quickly over the text.

“Unlikely. These people are probably Inner Council members, but the odds that Robin is involved are very low. He’d hide somewhere much safer; he wouldn’t expose himself so easily.”

“I know. But having a lead is still a lead. Once you find the thread, everything becomes much easier.”

“That’s true... but I think what you need to watch out for isn’t just this Robin. Based on the information we have now, his role is to openly coordinate the Inner Council’s resources and handle practical matters—the Council’s hands and feet, so to speak. Behind him, though, there’s someone far more deeply hidden.”

Celicia frowned slightly; even she looked grave when mentioning this.

“White Tiger...”

Muen murmured softly.

The Inner Council certainly possessed extraordinary reach, but it couldn’t leave no traces at all. After such a long investigation, some previously unknown intelligence had gradually surfaced.

Among it was the existence of the Council’s founder—its current chairman—code-named White Tiger.

The fog surrounding Robin was slowly being lifted, but that White Tiger remained entirely beyond Muen’s grasp.

The unknown meant true danger.

“Forget it. There’s no point talking about that now.”

Celicia flicked the letter in her hand and looked back at what Muen was holding.

“What’s the second letter?”

“Ah, this one...”

Muen snapped back to himself and opened the second envelope.

The moment he read its contents, his expression instantly grew complicated.

“What—love letter?”

Celicia’s brows arched slightly.

“Not a love letter. A family letter.”

Rarely, Muen didn’t rise to Celicia’s banter. Instead, he carefully read every word on the page—just a few short lines, which he read again and again.

“It’s from Father. He told me not to worry about what’s behind me—just act freely.”

Muen took a deep breath and let out a strange little laugh.

“Now, in the truest sense, I can mobilize all the resources of the ducal household in Belrand.”