Chapter 11
The clatter of hooves on the cobblestone road was cheerful. The city’s night, visible through the window, was brightly lit, indistinguishable from day. Everything was unfamiliar to Ethan. Walking the streets at night, riding in a carriage—none of it was something he was used to. He glanced at Del, who sat across from him, inspecting his nails without a trace of tension. The stiffness in Ethan’s shoulders melted away.
“You don’t need to be that nervous. We’re just here to look around.”
“It’s not exactly nervousness…”
Or maybe it was nervousness. He could bluff his way through a tailor’s shop or a beauty salon, but a place like this? He’d be exposed instantly. Ethan didn’t want to face his old clients, and he hated complications. No one would be pleased to find out who was sharing their space—least of all him. If it were just him, he’d feel nothing but humiliation, but… Ethan stole a glance at Del. Why was he so unfazed? If anyone was going to be inconvenienced by being found out, it was Del.
“No one will recognize you. Just play your part. What was your name again?”
“A nursemaid’s son. Leopold.”
“If anyone gets too close to me, just glare at them. That’ll make things easier for me.”
“Ugh. I don’t know…”
“I’ll have to pray you’re the type who performs well under pressure.”
Ethan knew he didn’t need to be here—Del could handle things on his own—but the thought of failing in front of him was unbearable. The carriage came to a stop. The desert coachman, who had been working as Del’s personal driver since they arrived in the city, opened the door. Ethan stepped out first, and all eyes turned toward him. A boy arriving in the carriage of the desert coachman—he was already the subject of rumors. He straightened his back and offered his hand. A gloved hand settled lightly atop his, and Del emerged. The gazes grew even bolder. Del stepped gracefully onto the ground.
“Well?”
“Feels like I’m being appraised piece by piece.”
“You might even get to show off your organs.”
“Ugh, gross.”
Whispering, the two followed a servant down a long corridor. The opulence was fitting for a city lord. The decorations lining the corridor were extravagant—nothing was modest. Ethan stared at a golden rose.
“Is that real gold?”
“Probably just gilded.”
“Ugh.”
This was a world Ethan couldn’t comprehend. He walked carefully, mindful not to brush against the expensive vases or the out-of-season flowers adorning the corridor.
Del’s plan to prowl the shops for a few days began to take shape. By the third day, invitations were flooding in so rapidly they might as well have been slapping them in the face. Del sorted through them with practiced ease, tossing most into the fireplace and keeping only a few. He skimmed the contents of those before discarding the rest. Among the remaining few was this place: the heart of the city, the center of the Star. The lord’s mansion.
When Del mentioned the invitation, Ethan nearly jumped out of his skin. The thought of meeting such a figure was overwhelming.
“He’s just a count.”
“Then I’m basically dust.”
“Dust by my side is a different class entirely.”
Ethan supposed that made sense—Del was the heir to a duke, after all. But here, the count was like a king. Ethan had wished for unconsciousness several times on the way here, but his annoyingly sturdy body refused to oblige. Too bad.
They walked down the long corridor in silence. Everything was beautiful and extravagant—just like every moment of Ethan’s life had been wretched and painful. There was no trace of the shadows cast by the city’s opulence. The servant’s fleeting expression pricked Ethan’s pride—treating him like a jilted lover!—but at least the man was out of sight now. The tension in his chest eased slightly. The garden, with its labyrinthine arrangement of trees, seemed complex, but the grand, brightly lit hall was visible from anywhere. If I get lost, I’ll just charge straight through and say I was too upset to think straight. Del was filthy rich and the star of the evening; they’d probably let it slide. Ethan sighed, wondering when he’d started thinking like this. He really wasn’t being rational.
He wandered through the garden, scratching his head. The softly lit garden was beautiful—so much so that he almost forgot this city was in the middle of a desert. The leaves glowed a vibrant green in the light. Small, pretty flowers bloomed along the garden path, and the landscaped trees stood in elegant shapes. When Ethan spotted a fountain, his expression darkened. Even if the water was drawn by magic, water was always scarce. In the slums, the only water they could get was the fetid water from the Southern Puddle. The residents here had to buy water at exorbitant prices, so they were always poor. And yet, they used this water…
Ethan covered his face with his hands and rubbed his cheeks. He wasn’t learning anything new—he’d always known. But seeing it in person made it all the more wretched. These people had no interest in the lives of people like him. They didn’t care who was tangled in the roots beneath their feet. As long as they could laugh, chat, dance, eat, and drink, the people outside were invisible. That was just how the world worked. His only mistake was not being born into it.
“Enough.”
Dwelling on it would only make him more miserable. Ethan stood up and started walking again. Maybe moving would improve his mood. At least he’d found a way out for himself. Turning a blind eye might weigh on his conscience, but his body would be comfortable. He’d learned long ago that a troubled mind was nothing. He’d do it. Struggling wouldn’t change anything. If he couldn’t save everyone, he’d save himself. The lump in his throat would fade soon enough.
And then—
He was definitely lost.
This was the price for underestimating a noble’s garden. The shrubs near the edge were shorter than him, and even the taller ones were visible if he stood on his toes. But at some point, the shrubs towered over him, twice his height. The party building was nowhere in sight. The faint music had faded entirely. He shouldn’t stay away from Del for too long—he’d retrace his steps and—
He was definitely lost.
He had no idea where he was. It was so absurd he couldn’t even form words. He could recite his fake identity blindfolded, but he couldn’t very well introduce himself to no one. As the garden grew darker, Ethan realized he was far from the party. Damn it. His only option now was to hope someone would come by.
Ethan stood at a crossroads. Should he keep walking, or sit and wait for someone to pass? If he kept walking, he’d only get more lost. He might stumble upon someone, or he might not. If he sat and waited, he’d either meet someone or he wouldn’t. Both options had problems.
“Who even walks through here?”
It was dark and gloomy. Muttering to himself, Ethan sat down and cursed his own stupidity. If he didn’t return, Del would come looking for him. The man had tracked him down in the desert and even in the slums—surely he had a way to find him here. That contract… Ugh, why did I even agree to that? His nape burned, and he rubbed his neck to cool down. He’d called it a contract, but in that moment, he’d gone beyond that. Why the hell did I do that? If he knew, he wouldn’t have.
Rustle.
The sound of dry leaves crunching made Ethan stand up. The thought of someone passing by was oddly comforting. A shadowy figure appeared in the darkness. Just as he was about to step forward, something felt off.
It wasn’t a servant’s silhouette. The glint of decorations peeked through the shadows. But the way the figure moved was suspicious—cautious, almost paranoid, glancing around as if on guard. No noble Ethan knew—or anyone, really—would walk like that in an empty garden. The figure was hiding something. Realizing this, Ethan couldn’t just call out. He followed the shadow as it slipped between the shrubs. He felt like he had to.
The figure moved with extreme caution. Whether it was skilled at hiding its presence or not, it didn’t notice Ethan tailing it. After winding through the maze-like garden, the figure arrived at a small shed—likely a storage space for the gardeners, judging by the tools outside.
This was even more suspicious. Why would a noble seek out a place like this on a night like this? Peering through the window, Ethan saw the figure disappear into the floor. Had it gone underground? Debating whether to follow, Ethan realized it was too dangerous and hid among the shrubs. After a long wait, the figure reappeared, now carrying something—a small bag that hadn’t been there before. Ethan held his breath until the figure vanished into the darkness.
Cautiously, he approached the shed and went inside. No one was there. The floor looked ordinary. Ethan paced where he’d seen the figure disappear. Tap, tap. When he knocked on the floor, one spot sounded hollow. This had to be it… But there was no handle, no seam. How was he supposed to open it?
“What are you doing?”
“Ack!”
The sudden voice made Ethan jump backward. Cold sweat trickled down his spine, and it took him a moment to recognize the familiar voice. His heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst. Panting, Ethan glared at Del, who tilted his head as if to ask, What’s wrong? How was there no sound, no presence before he spoke?!
“You!”
“I had an errand to run. I told you from the start.”
“An errand?”
“The Emperor’s errand. When he says jump, I ask how high.”
Emperor’s Hound. The word flashed through Ethan’s mind. Even the slum boys knew the terror that name carried. What was left where they’d stayed? They usually kept a low profile, only appearing when the Emperor needed to flex his power. But calling the delicate boy in a fancy dress before him a “hound” felt odd. A puppy, maybe.
Ethan watched Del examine the floor intently. How had he gotten here? Ethan had been lost for ages after leaving the hall. How did Del, who didn’t even know the way, find this place after following someone?
“Weren’t you dancing?”
“I slipped out at the right moment.”
“Huh?”
“They let me go when they saw I was worried you were missing.”
“……Really?”
“You did great. We didn’t even rehearse, but you nailed it.”
Del chuckled, and Ethan clenched his jaw. It felt like a fluke, but Del’s unwavering confidence made it awkward to admit he’d stumbled into this by accident.
“Found it.”
“Found what?”
A magic circle formed in Del’s hand. It was different from the one during their contract—back then, it had been a bird and a star. This time, the lines and circles were unfamiliar. The magic circle touched the floor.
Click.
“What is this city’s wealth built on?”
Ethan knew the answer: taxes and tolls extorted from merchants crossing the desert, squeezing the residents dry. But Del’s expression suggested there was more.
“Aren’t you curious?”
Ethan nodded. He wanted to know. What had fueled this city’s wealth? What had magnified its cruelty? What had made their lives so wretched?
Ethan stepped onto the staircase leading underground.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
