“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Ian Bratz. The illegitimate son of the now-exterminated Count Bratz, the very man who had been the stake that kept her, the head investigator, from ever returning to the Imperial Palace, was standing right before her.

She denied it reflexively, but her instincts already knew. The words Ian had so casually dropped were laced with certainty. Her voice trembled uncontrollably, but Erica didn’t even have the presence of mind to notice. To think that after ten long years of struggle and survival, she would be faced with this on her very first day back in the palace.

“If you have forgotten, that in itself is a problem.”

Ian slowly approached Erica, lifting her chin slightly. It was a gesture that conveyed a sort of surprise, as if he had never expected to see her again. And in the Imperial Palace, no less, as part of the Hawan delegation? In truth, it was more accurate to say he hadn’t paid her any mind, deeming her insignificant.

“Have you perhaps lost your memory?”

“Ah.”

Yes. That’s it.

Erica found a small clue in Ian’s suggestion. If she were to officially return as the head of the Imperial Investigation Team, the burden she would have to bear was too heavy. Failure to carry out an imperial command, dereliction of duty for a prolonged period, responsibility for her deceased subordinates, and so on.

And what if she asserted her position as a member of the Hawan delegation? Given that she was no ordinary person but a former head investigator, it would be an act of treason. The fallout would not only affect her but also Shatima, who had taken her in and helped her.

Therefore, it was better to push the narrative of an unavoidable circumstance, something beyond her control—

“It’s better for you if you’ve lost it. You’ve become much more refined.”

It was a small taunt. Go on, try to play the amnesia card. I’m eager to see what other amusing spectacles you’ll provide. Ian was a man who had seized power in an Imperial Palace where truth had long faded, the man responsible for the commercialization of the Truth Serum, and the man who remembered Erica’s past with perfect clarity. He had the ability to expose her. More than enough.

As Ian smiled playfully, Erica bit her lower lip, the humiliating sneers from the count’s estate echoing vividly in her ears.

‘Your manner of speaking is quite impressive. I’m surprised. It seems they’re recruiting commoners for the head investigator position these days.’

When Erica snapped her head to glare at Ian, he feigned surprise and raised his hands. …You hypocritical bastard. Though the veil covered most of her face, she could not hide the hostility in her eyes.

Ian seemed to study her for a moment before remarking with perfect nonchalance, “No, I was wrong. You haven’t changed at all.”

“…”

‘Damn him, I’ll kill him!’

How should she handle this? All sorts of scenarios flashed through Erica’s mind, but every outcome was equally disastrous.

When her reply didn’t come, Ian leaned his shoulder against the wall, assuming a more relaxed posture. It was his way of showing her that she, a mere missing investigator from the past, was not worth the effort of scheming against.

“You could have lived a quiet, ordinary life. Why did you come back? You must have wanted something to take such a risk.”

Reinstatement to the Imperial Palace? Or perhaps the rights to the Bratz territory, a ship that had long sailed? Or was it his death?

Ian pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time, as if urging her to speak quickly. It seemed he didn’t have much time to spare for her.

“…All of it.”

“Tsk. What a waste of time.”

He wasn’t referring to Erica’s wasted decade, but to his own few minutes. Her answer was so worthless that he regretted even starting the conversation.

As Ian turned to leave, Erica quickly stepped in front of him, blocking his path. She then threw back her veil, revealing her face. If the conversation ended like this, it would truly be over for her.

“What is your intention?”

“That was my question to you, Erica.”

“…The pride of being the head investigator. The pride of carrying out the Emperor’s direct command. My subordinates are all dead, and I myself have long been forgotten here, but that doesn’t mean the pride that defined me has disappeared.”

“Just get to the point.”

“I don’t want reinstatement. I just want to restore my honor.”

“Is there any honor left to restore? You failed to carry out His Majesty the Emperor’s command. And look at yourself. The clothes you wear, which country do they belong to?”

“This is—!” Erica gritted her teeth and whispered, “This was a means to return to Bariel. Because even if you beat me to death, I am a citizen of Bariel.”

“Hmm.”

Ian stared at Erica, a flicker of opportunity in his eyes. Shatima couldn’t possibly have failed to notice such a strong sense of identity. Yet, despite that, she had included Erica in the delegation and brought her to the Imperial Palace, which meant she had her own objective. Could it be that she hoped Erica would serve as a bridge between her and the palace?

“What did you bring?”

If Shatima thought that Erica, who had shown her entire hand, held such potential, there had to be a reason for it.

“You wouldn’t have returned to your homeland empty-handed.”

“And why should I give it to you?”

“You believe you’ll have a chance to present it directly to His Highness the Crown Prince. I see. People really don’t change.”

Stupid. He had just delivered that short insult in a very long-winded way. Erica clenched her fists and stepped closer to Ian.

“You haven’t changed either.”

“Can’t you see for yourself?”

What was different now from the last time she had seen him?

‘If Shatima wishes to connect with the Imperial Palace through Erica, it means she has wisely assessed her own situation in Hawan. Hawan might officially support Burgos and join the war, but at the very least, the Prime Minister’s faction can be brought over to Bariel’s side. A division is possible.’

Ian looked at the firmly shut door of the waiting room and smiled in satisfaction. Erica’s eyes narrowed in displeasure at the sight.

Tap, tap, tap!

“I-Ian! No, Sir Ian! Sir Ian!”

Just then, Romandro’s voice echoed from the end of the corridor. The urgent footsteps amplified the sound, making it reverberate through the space, suggesting a matter of considerable urgency.

“What is it?”

“It’s a disaster, a total disaster! Right now, huh?”

Romandro, in the middle of his report, stopped short as he saw Erica’s face. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place her. So that’s why Ian was so interested. Romandro furrowed his brow, forgetting his manners as he scrutinized Erica’s face, his attitude like that of someone meeting a long-lost classmate.

“…Agh, what is it? Where have I seen you before? You feel familiar, yet somehow not. Did you attend Bariel University? But you’re from Hawan, so you probably didn’t grow up in Bariel, right?”

“Lord Romandro.”

“Oh, my apologies! My apologies, your familiar face just caught me off guard. It’s not about that. Akorella was guiding the Ruswenan delegation, and—” Romandro, looking like he was about to go crazy, whispered into Ian’s ear. “Th-There’s a dragon.”

“…Excuse me?”

“A dragon the exact same color as Beric’s hair! I swear, those Ruswenan bastards are nuts. They’re not in their right minds. They came using it instead of a horse! The citizens are all freaking out during the festival, and reports are flooding in. We should probably announce how we’ll deal with it after their audience.”

Seeing them pull such a stunt with their tribute gift, it seemed Eldert was indeed of the same mind as Eriphony. Ian nodded, indicating he would be there shortly. Romandro, saying he would go on ahead, scratched his chin in puzzlement as he passed Erica again. Where have I seen her? Did I ever have a chance to meet someone from the Hawan Kingdom? No…

Watching Romandro trot away, Ian said nonchalantly, “As you can see, something has come up.”

“So how are we going to conclude this?”

For her, this was a matter of life and death. The conversation couldn’t just end like this.

“The conclusion is not for you to make. I will summon Prime Minister Shatima when I have time. You should relay what happened here and pray that you prove yourself valuable. I don’t know what you’ve brought, but it had better please His Highness. Otherwise, well.” Ian brushed past Erica and said, “You may not be able to live in Bariel, but you can certainly die here.”

“Wait!” Erica grabbed Ian, as if to ask one last question. “But how did you recognize me?”

Wasn’t Romandro’s reaction the normal one? It had been ten years, and her Hawan attire had diluted much of her former appearance. So, how?

Ian brushed her hand away as if it were nothing. “I don’t know if you remember, but my mother once told me of your final destination. And, for me, all of this happened not so long ago.”

“Your mother?”

Ian’s mother? Mary? No, he had a different birth mother. Erica’s pupils darted wildly as she searched her memory, and she finally recalled the blonde woman she had met in the mountains. The last person from Bariel she had met before leaving for Hawan.

“Ah! That—!”

Looking at him now, he was the spitting image of her. Why hadn’t she made the connection then? It was probably because she couldn’t have imagined that Ian’s mother would be living in seclusion in such a forest. And her own situation had been dire as well. She had lost her subordinates, and her own future was uncertain.

“And one last thing from me as well.” Ian’s golden eyes flashed for an instant. “I let you off easy because I was impressed that you called yourself a citizen of Bariel. Use honorifics and show some respect. I have no time to spare for someone who doesn’t even know the basics.”

Tap.

Ian turned coldly and disappeared around a corner. She could feel the Hawan attendants, who had been waiting from a distance, whispering and watching her. Erica hesitated for a moment, then turned and re-entered the dignitaries’ waiting room.

Creeak.

****

“Whoa, what the hell is that?”

“A dragon.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

The mages stared up at the red dragon, bewildered. Its eyes looked like they could chew a person alive, but what was with the cute little collar?

Akorella, fuming for some reason, was chewing on an unlit cigarette.

“Hey, how long are we going to wait here?”

“Please wait. We are waiting for Sir Ian.”

“Honestly, what is he doing that’s taking so long?”

At Repin’s grumbling, the whites of Akorella’s eyes showed. Was this something the people who arrived last had any right to say? It was hard to tell if he was shameless or just had a bad memory. Ah! It could be both!

The mages clung to her arms, adding their own words to calm her down, while Romandro kept his distance, eyeing the dragon warily. Even if it was said to be a docile, captive-bred creature, he couldn’t let his guard down. Even dogs bite people sometimes!

“Sir Ian is coming!”

“This way, Sir Ian!”

“Please look at this! Ugh!”

As Ian descended the stairs, the mages, with tears in their eyes, rushed to him. Their gazes pleaded with him to tell them what to do with the creature.

Only then did Repin step down from his carriage, flick the dust from his collar, and offer Ian a handshake. “I am Repin, head delegate of the Ruswenan legation. Are you Minister Ian Hielo of the Ministry of Magic?”

“Yes. That is correct.”

Ian walked past Repin’s outstretched hand as if he hadn’t seen it and stood before the dragon. If it stretched its neck, it could probably reach the second floor of the banquet hall, and with its wings, its potential for danger was immeasurable.

“It cannot be brought inside.”

“Th-That’s right! Sir Ian, we thought so too—”

“One moment. This was sent by the King of Ruswena, His Highness Eldert, himself. It must be included in the list of tributes for the audience. What do you mean, it cannot be brought in? Is His Highness the Crown Prince planning to come out himself, then?”

These bastards are really pushing their luck. The mages used their entire faces to send a look of utter disapproval toward the Ruswenan delegation.

“Did you just dare to ask His Highness the Crown Prince to come out?”

“No, it was just a figure of speech! We can have the audience without this creature, of course. But if that happens, we will not be able to fully convey the sincerity of Ruswena, and we simply meant that Bariel should be aware of this.”

It sounded like he was looking for an excuse to pick a fight. Ian scanned the Ruswenan delegation. They had brought no other horses. That meant that when they returned, the Imperial Palace would have to provide them with horses.

“Who is the dragon handler or expert?”

At Ian’s question, Repin shook his head regretfully. “Dragon experts are few and far between, even in Ruswena. They are currently staying at the official breeding grounds and cannot leave their posts.”

What a long-winded way to say you didn’t bring one.

This was as good as saying they intended to kill the dragon. Ian met the dragon’s gaze for a moment and felt the strong life force dwelling beneath its transparent eyes.

“I see.”

Poor thing.

Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.