Praise

The second gift he received by sheer chance, Frank Fontaine, spilled everything he knew.

Listening to the man's confession, Ferda and Isabella arrived at a single realization.

"Offering the Dandolo Trading Company meant handing over everything Tilda had prepared."

It had seemed a little strange that she would seize the empire's largest trading house only to turn around and give it away. As Frank Fontaine poured out his testimony, the shape of the scheme finally came into focus.

"If I cooperated, I was promised a post as a headquarters executive of the Dandolo Trading Company in a few years! In exchange for hiring and managing the assassins myself."

"What a stupid thing to do."

Ferda had assumed that any merchant worth the name would carefully weigh profit against loss and never attempt something so reckless. Stefan's words came back to him unbidden—Frank Fontaine had never risen precisely because he lacked ability. That same incompetence stood nakedly exposed in this rebellion.

Even so, Ferda did not simply write the man off as a complete fool. Frank was clumsily stupid and clumsily clever in equal measure. Though he had taken the lead, a document remained in his possession that would let him claim the true mastermind of the filthy plot was someone else entirely. On the line confirming who had supplied every last coin sat Henri Dandolo's seal.

Tilda had prepared for the worst: if everything collapsed, she could dump the entire blame onto the Dandolo Trading Company. And now Ferda could use that same document.

"When Black Bandana hands over the Dandolo Trading Company, they mean to use this paper."

"Do you think it's enough?"

"It can damage the Dandolo family's credibility, but actually transferring ownership of the business is still a stretch."

Still, the document and the testimony made Ferda's work far easier. Tilda Pascal could fall as Tilda Pascal. Henri Dandolo could fall as Henri.

Is Rico Dandolo really the client?

When the goal had simply been protecting a business and a son from a worthless daughter-in-law, the old man had looked like the obvious candidate. But the moment he handed Ferda this document, he was effectively cutting his son out of the company—which could just as easily be read as an attempt to save the company itself. Ferda wondered whether that was truly a choice a father would make.

"I still don't understand how they intend to hand a trading company over to Lord Ferda, who is practically a third party, but the backlash will be considerable."

"No need to worry on that score."

Ferda possessed the single most seductive asset imaginable: magic engineering. Investors were already salivating over it. Present that to the Dandolo Trading Company and they would welcome a new manager with open arms.

"Even so, a clean, legitimate way to seize it still refuses to come to mind."

"From an administrator's perspective, would it be wiser to drop the whole thing even now?"

"It benefits the treasury. How could I abandon it? I'll investigate the acquisition further and begin preparations ahead of time."

"Do so."

Isabella pushed her glasses up with one finger and smiled. Given how often she fretted over the finances, the proposal was cause for celebration.

In a moment when everyone ought to have been pleased, Ferda glanced sideways at Ruri and asked, "More importantly—what about you?"

"About what, exactly?"

Ruri was, as always, crisp and blunt.

"Agreeing to cooperate with a human scheme. You don't look especially thrilled about it. Are you truly all right with this?"

Ruri answered without hesitation. "As a Dragon Spawn I have my pride, but I'm not a fool. What's the point of standing on pride over something like this?"

"Is that so?"

"Besides, if anyone deserves resentment, it would be my master." She sighed and let the complaint spill out. "Unlike other dragons, she never even gathered treasure. She lived like some idle freeloader—so of course we end up having to scrape finances together like this. Shouldn't even a worthless servant like me move when the situation demands it?"

"So you had grievances piled up against your master."

"Do you have a problem with that?"

"No."

Even while insulting her master, she was still moving for her master's sake. How could that not be endearing?

"I'm simply grateful that you're putting in the effort."

Ferda reached toward her head. The moment Ruri saw the hand, she flinched, then dipped her chin slightly.

"Regent."

Just before his fingers could touch her hair, Isabella's voice cut between them.

"What is it?"

"Are you about to touch Miss Ruri's head?"

"I am."

"Why would you do such a thing?" Isabella's tone had turned sharp.

Startled by the unexpected heat, Ferda answered carefully. "I was told that when praising a child, this is the most effective method."

"The method for praising a minor is correct. That is precisely why you must not use it on Miss Ruri."

"Is that so?"

"I believe you have not forgotten that Dragon Spawns possess considerable pride?"

Hearing it put that way, Ferda nodded; the point was fair. Isabella pressed on.

"More than that, Miss Ruri is several times older than the Regent. She may wear the appearance of a young, unfading flower—immortal purity itself—but you must never overlook the fact that she is an adult."

"Is that so?"

The phrasing was thick with personal bias, yet Isabella's reasoning held. Ferda turned to Ruri and asked with his eyes.

"That's right." Ruri nodded. "I have lived several hundred years longer than Lord Ferda. Do you truly believe I would enjoy that kind of praise?"

She seemed to be agreeing with the logic, yet an unmistakable dissatisfaction sat written across her face. Ferda took it for wounded pride.

"My apologies. It seems my method of praise was mistaken. I won't stroke your head—"

"No." Isabella cut in as though she had been waiting for exactly that opening. "There is a way."

"A way?"

"As I said, it is the method of praise from elder to junior. Correct?"

"Yes."

Isabella pushed her glasses higher and declared, "Then among fellow Dragon Spawns, if the elder praises the junior, the problem is solved, is it not?"

"...?"

"...?"

Ruri and Ferda both wondered what on earth she was talking about. Isabella raised her glasses again, lenses flashing.

"In other words, I—the elder—will praise Miss Ruri."

"Huh?"

"...Ha?"

Ferda's face once more filled with question marks. Ruri's expression collapsed. Both of them felt certain this had to be a joke.

"What did you just say?"

"To restate: I will stroke Miss Ruri's head by way of praise."

Isabella's glasses glittered. She was more serious than anyone in the room. She took one step forward. Ruri took one step back and dropped into a reflexive guard.

"Stay away."

"There is no need for embarrassment. As the senior..." Her fingers wriggled. "...I shall praise you thoroughly."

Those fingers moved with a flexibility no one would expect from someone who spent her days on paperwork and magic. They writhed like tentacles rising from the abyss. Wearing a look of pure revulsion, Ruri fled the spot as if escaping for her life.

"Ah."

Isabella stared emptily at the place that had emptied like the wind. A moment later she returned to her usual crisp, businesslike self.

Ferda observed, "It would seem that was not a good idea after all."

"...It appears so."

Isabella looked sincerely disappointed.

The headquarters of Black Bandana.

In truth, no permanent headquarters existed. For the sake of secrecy the base was moved every three months, and even on moving day the lower ranks never knew the destination until the last possible moment. The place they currently occupied lay deep inside a mountain in eastern Serdes. Once a hideout for drug manufacturers and smugglers, it had been cleaned out and quietly converted into a Black Bandana safehouse.

Bringing an outsider into such a secret location was rare. Receiving open murderous intent after doing so was rarer still. In that sense, Jed Swallow was a first in the organization's history.

"Jed Swallow. I've only ever seen you in pictures. First time looking at the real face, huh?"

"Haha, look at this guy's smooth skin."

Hands the size of pot lids groped over Jed's body. He stood rigid, forcing out an awkward laugh.

"Haha, could you not grab my face so freely? I may not look it, but I take skincare extremely seriously..."

"That so? Then how about we check the backside? We've got a fellow who enjoys that sort of thing—if he sees your—"

"As if a face like this would wear out from a little touching! Feel free, feel free! Haha!"

Realizing he had stepped on a landmine, Jed hastily changed course. He kept smiling while cursing his own life.

Why the hell did I have to come all the way here just to put up with this...

He hated Garnet for dragging him here. He hated Ferda even more for selling him out in the first place.

Is the money really that big a deal? Is a knighthood really that big a deal?

He considered the question carefully, then answered himself.

Yeah. It is a big deal, fuck.

All he could do was keep smiling obediently.

"Hyung, I've got a question."

"What?"

"Why are you all so eager to tear this guy apart?"

"Huh? You didn't hear?" The man smiled sweetly and smacked Jed's crown hard enough to rattle his teeth. "This bastard raped our lady. You mean you don't know the famous story?"

"Huh? I think I heard something like that once—was it this guy?"

"Yeah. Him."

"Oh... how dare he. How dare he lay a hand on our lady..."

Even the previously mild man began to burn with bloodlust. Jed waved both hands frantically.

"Wait, wait! That whole 'rape' thing is more than a little exaggerated!"

"Go on. Talk."

"That day we'd just finished a rough job. Both of us were exhausted. We were comforting each other, you know? Man and woman alone in a room, the mood was right, and as a man it would have been rude to pull out right there..."

"So did you take responsibility like a man?"

"Well... if I'd known she was a young lady from a house like this..."

"Did you take responsibility?"

"...I ran."

"Then how is that any different from rape, you gigolo?"

The hands on his face turned rough. They seized him firmly.

"Haha, w-what are you doing, hyungs?"

"We don't ask much. Just one line across the face. Draw it, repent, and marry the lady."

"Ahaha! Put the sword away, please!? I really don't like this kind of joke!"

"Things that are jokes to you are history to us. Hold him tight, boys."

"What do you think you're doing?"

A husky woman's voice cut through the thick smell of male sweat.

"Oh, boss. We were just about to run an initiation."

"He's not even one of ours. What initiation? And that isn't something you do with a dagger."

"Aww, but we've got to keep a family atmosphere going, right?"

Jed shot her a desperate look that screamed save me. Garnet sighed and drove them off.

"Cut the nonsense and all of you back away. Like it or not, Jed is the Regent's knight."

"Tch. Count yourself lucky."

"We'll check the backside next time."

At Garnet's order every man withdrew. Jed, still trembling like a gazelle surrounded by predators, looked at her and said, "Thanks for the rescue."

Garnet slapped his cheek.

Slap!

"Ow! Why—why?"

"One for the idiotic stunt at Baldrova Castle."

"Yeah, I earned that one. Other than that, no leftover feelings?"

"Not for the moment. I still have some residual resentment, but nothing strong enough to sabotage the job."

"What? There aren't women who say that after experiencing me..."

"...Want me to break something?"

"I'm sorry. Please continue."

Years of silence still left a thick residue of emotion between them. They could have jumped straight to business, yet they chose to air the words left unsaid.

"You're shameless enough to still wear the name Swallow."

"You're one to talk, Finteeth."

"Don't use that nickname."

"Why not? Brings back the good old days."

"Didn't you get your nose broken for using it on me?"

"Broke my nose and still used it plenty."

Jed grinned that sly grin of his. The sight made her snarl like a mad dog.

"Don't smile like that. Light-assed types might fall for it, but it just pisses me off."

"Yes, ma'am."

Jed wiped the smile away at once. Garnet drew a long breath and spoke in a cold, steady voice.

"I need your help for this job."

"Specifically?"

"Infiltrate a location and retrieve an item."

Jed waved both hands with theatrical reluctance. "Infiltrate? What power do I have for something like that? Can't do it."

"You're suited for this."

"On what basis?"

"A comprehensive judgment based on recent work and your old mercenary days."

"When I was a merc, what exactly did I do? Nothing special that I can recall."

When he kept denying it to the end, Garnet exhaled heavily.

"Do you remember the battle at Palestine Castle?"

"Yeah. That one was rough."

"We all got captured. Only you didn't. Everyone assumed you'd run. Instead you snuck back into the castle and pulled us out."

"I got lucky that day."

"That kind of luck happened seven times. No one else noticed. I did. You moved in the dark and saved us every time."

"You're giving me way too much credit..."

Even Jed himself had never thought of those moments as remarkable. He had simply done what a comrade ought to do, and he had done it quietly because quiet was necessary. Nothing more.

When he still refused to accept the role, Garnet reached for her final card.

"Are you going to force me to mention that you're the last descendant of the Red-Eyed Tribe?"

Jed's face went hard.

"I'd rather not make things uncomfortable over something like that, but right now—"

"That information."

"What?"

"Who else knows?"

His eyes filled with a murderous light that had not been there before. Garnet met it without flinching.

"Only me."

"If you're thinking of covering for me, don't. Even old camaraderie won't make me overlook this."

Garnet's brow knotted and she snapped back, "You idiot. Who do you think has been managing every scrap of information about you all this time? Your file is under my personal control."

"My information?"

"You actually believe you're hiding it so well, don't you? Living like some pretty gigolo and thinking the world doesn't notice. You stupid bastard. Without me you would already be dead. You understand that? They would have sniffed you out, taken you alive, and put you on display like a monkey in a zoo!"

As she fumed, Jed scratched the back of his head, looking faintly sheepish.

"R-really? All this time I thought you hated me enough to kill me yourself."

"Why would I want you dead? One way or another, you're a comrade who shared life and death with me."

"Oh."

"Of course, those other guys absolutely do want you dead."

"Uh..."

Jed managed a smile, but his face had gone pale and cold sweat ran freely. Garnet smirked at the pitiful sight.

"So what exactly is the job?"

"Infiltrate a mansion and locate the medium of a garden contract."

"Garden contract... I'm not looking to get on a witch's bad side these days."

"Your name's already been on the kill list more times than I can count. What's one more?"

"It has?"

"Are you actually an idiot, or just pretending?"

Garnet gave him a look of pure exasperation, then returned to the matter at hand.

"We believe the target has contracted with Yohre Philiaz. We judge you're the right man for the job. Your thoughts?"

"It's the best possible judgment."

For a member of the Red-Eyed Tribe—the so-called Mage Killers—anyone who relied on magic was easy prey. A true witch might have been a headache, but their opponent was merely an evil woman playing at the role.

"Then show me the blueprints of the places I need to enter."

Garnet set a thick sheaf of documents in front of him. A map formed inside Jed's mind—floor plans, known object locations, every detail already catalogued. He began sorting the rooms that held what they needed and rolling possible approaches through his head. When the outline finally grew clear, he looked back at Garnet.

"One more thing."

"What."

"This doesn't have to be pure infiltration, right?"

"Meaning?"

"Is it all right if I do something a little unsightly?"

Garnet's face twisted in disgust.

"...You're planning to seduce Tilda Pascal?"

"Why would I go to that much trouble?"

"Because that's the sort of thing you do."

"Heh. You claim to know me and still don't know me at all." Jed flashed a wicked grin. "Jobs like this? You have to make a real ruckus before they come loose."