SPRFG 03

Chapter 3…

Prologue (3)

Clop, clop, clop…

Still half-asleep, Juaiye listened to the sound of footsteps drawing closer to her room. She assumed it was just a dream. Though her drowsiness instantly evaporated, her body felt paralyzed, as if pinned down by sleep paralysis, leaving her only able to toss and turn.

To the right of her room, Violeta’s space—who worked evenings—was empty and quiet. To her left, a drunkard was snoring away while a baby cried bloody murder. Through all that racket, the rhythmic drip, drip of rainwater leaking through the roof and striking a metal bowl pierced straight into her ears. The three people who had come up the stairs hesitated for a brief moment before they began knocking on doors from the far end of the hallway.

Had she been fully awake, she would have lit a candle, fixed her hair, and grabbed whatever she could find to use as a weapon. Still half-dazed, Juaiye managed to sit up, rubbed her forehead, and curled right back up under the covers. No matter how tightly she wrapped the razor-thin mattress over her head, she could still clearly hear the crying infant, the heavy snoring, a mangy dog yapping outside, and those uninvited footsteps.

Her mind naturally began running the numbers.

A group of three, most likely. Judging by the loud thuds against the wooden floorboards, they were built quite large. Plus, the iron studs embedded in their soles meant these were men’s boots, not women’s shoes. On top of that, they were walking with a strangely disciplined, perfectly measured stride. It was a cadence that didn’t fit a rundown tenement like this at all—a place inhabited only by poor students forced to copy borrowed textbooks because they couldn’t afford their own, or broke gamblers who had pawned everything down to their underwear.

Knock, knock, knock.

They knocked on the door right next to Juaiye’s.

Her sleepiness was rapidly slipping away. The three men exchanged hushed murmurs, followed by the sound of a door swinging open.

Violeta’s room had a tiny window that kept it dim, so she had a habit of leaving her door wide open while putting on makeup during the day. It seemed she had completely forgotten to lock it before heading off to work.

The unfamiliar guests shuffled around inside Violeta’s room, muttering among themselves. Their voices carried easily through the thin walls and floorboards.

“She’s not here.”

“Looks like a woman’s room, sir.”

“Is she really not here? Check under the bed carefully.”

Clack. A metallic click echoed through the wall. Juaiye’s eyes snapped open. A gun. They were definitely bandits. But if they really were robbers, they had to be the dumbest thieves on the planet. What in the world was there to steal in a crumbling tenement house in the Lepaute District?

Ha… haha… Juaiye swallowed a dry laugh and pulled the blanket over her head.

“Nothing under the bed… sir. Just… some kind of… wooden crate.”

Cough, cough.

“Sorry, sir. The sawdust…”

“Keep it down. Put everything back and let’s get out.”

All three were men, and two of them spoke to the third with strict deference.

Come to think of it, their accents were bizarre. It was the refined dialect spoken exclusively by high society nobles in the capital—the kind of speech you only heard in royal courts, ballrooms, or lavish grand estate banquets. It wasn’t something anyone could just imitate after a day or two of practice.

The contrast between this Lepaute tenement and their overly polished, well-mannered tone was so absurdly mismatched that Juaiye figured she had to be trapped in some ridiculous dream. She never could have imagined she’d hear that noble accent again—

Knock, knock.

Now, the three men were knocking on her door.

The startled rats scattered. Juaiye sat bolt upright. Instinctively swinging a foot off the bed, she stepped right onto a pile of rat droppings. It wasn’t the first time, but she could never get used to that squishy, miserable sensation. She recoiled in shock. As if sensing her sudden movement, the presence of the three men outside the door instantly went still.

Knock, knock. Knock-knock-knock-knock. Knock-knock-knock. Knock, knock.

At least she had been wearing her house slippers when she stepped on it, but now she was looking at going barefoot. Well, it wasn’t like this was anything new. She decided not to dwell on it.

The men outside were still pounding on her door.

“Is anyone inside? Is anyone home? Please open the door. We are on official business. Your cooperation is requested.”

“…!”

Official business in the middle of the night? If they thought she was foolish enough to fall for that and just open the door, they severely underestimated her.

Juaiye slipped off her house slippers without making a sound and pulled the blanket back over her head. The loud snoring from the guy next door helped mask her movements. The rats scrambled into a hole beneath the wall and vanished, and Juaiye tried to drift back to sleep. Unlike Violeta, she always locked her door.

She had secured the deadbolt tight, so no one would be barging into her room—

Clatter, CLANG.

The deadbolt snapped off and hit the floor. Moments later, the three visitors burst straight into her room. All three were so ridiculously tall that one smacked his head right against the doorframe, while another failed to look down in time and stepped squarely into the rat droppings.

Juaiye screamed:

“What is this?! Who are you people?! Who barges into someone’s house while they’re sleeping?! Burglars!”

At that exact moment, the three men dropped to one knee beside her bed. Just having the three of them crouched there side-by-side filled the small room to capacity; there wasn’t even space left for another person to squeeze in.

Still unable to stand, Juaiye stared up at the three looming shadows towering over her. There wasn’t a single light source in the room, yet gold on their shoulders and pure silver on their chests caught the moonlight, gleaming brightly. At their waists hung silk-sheathed ceremonial swords and shockingly ornate pistols…

“Our apologies, My Lady. We have come to escort you.”

“’My Lady’ my foot! Forget it, I’m going back to sleep. Official business? What, is this a raid? Did you bring a warrant?”

“Ah… right here…”

She hadn’t actually expected an answer, but the man surprisingly pulled a document right out from his coat. Juaiye felt like she was being tricked by a ghost. As she slowly struck a flint to light a candle and began reading the warrant, the three men endured their legs going numb, sitting respectfully with their eyes cast downward. Juaiye read the paper handed to her:

Requesting Aiolia da Almadelcore as a key witness in the maid murder case. The witness must faithfully fulfill all cooperation required for the investigation.

So, it turned out these men were officers and soldiers from the Imperial Guard, tasked with investigating the case where Lady Ritorna da Vinkitur stabbed her maid to death.

Normally, violent crimes fell under the jurisdiction of the City Watch responsible for public order. But because the suspect was the daughter of a high-ranking noble, the task had been handed off to the aristocratic Imperial Guard. She understood that much, but everything else made zero sense.

“It doesn’t say anywhere on here that this can be executed at night,” Juaiye said with a sullen frown. “Which means you should come back tomorrow—well, today, after the sun comes up.”

The three Imperial Guards looked up at her cautiously. It wasn’t because her point was legally valid under Imperial law, but purely because of her noble lineage.

“Um, Lady Aiolia da Almadelcore…”

“Who is that? I have noooo idea who you’re talking about…”

She tried desperately to play dumb, but the moment she met their eyes, she knew the gig was up.

Juaiye let out a deep sigh. She was Aiolia da Almadelcore. Or at least, she had been until a year ago.

After running away from home for certain reasons and successfully settling down here in the Lepaute District, she thought the identity of ‘Aiolia’ was completely buried. Turns out that was just wishful thinking.

“Did the Duke… I mean, my father send you? Did he tell you to drag me back home?”

“No, My Lady… Ah, the Duke did mention that you might be here, but he didn’t send us. We are acting strictly under Imperial command to investigate the murder case involving Lady Ritorna, so, um…”

Her ‘father’—the Duke—had known she was living here all along!

The realization that she hadn’t actually escaped the Almadelcore family’s grasp made her shudder. The only reason the Duke and Duchess hadn’t dragged her back in chains was simply because they were content to watch how things played out for a bit…

A sudden, overwhelming urge to move swept over her. If she hadn’t already paid six months of rent upfront to get a discount, and if there were any place in the capital cheaper than the Lepaute District, she would have packed her bags the very next morning.

Setting aside future moving plans, what she had just heard made even less sense. Juaiye—that is, Aiolia—decided to ask. If she had to play the part of Aiolia again, she might as well commit to it. For the first time in a long while, she slipped back into the persona of an arrogant, high-strung noble lady who knew full well just how pretty she was.

“Do you even know where the Vinkitur estate is? It’s over by the main palace in the city center! It takes a solid three hours of non-stop walking from here. Do you honestly think I’ve set foot near the Vinkitur estate recently? Obviously not! I have… literally… zero connection… to that case. What do you mean, ‘key witness’?”

“W-we are deeply sorry, My Lady…” the soldiers stammered, flustered. Yet, they showed no signs of backing down.

“Well… we are fully aware that you had nothing to do with the maid’s murder. We were just… hoping you might be able to help us…”

“An investigation? A police inquiry? I don’t care for complicated things like that—that’s your job. Why should I have to help with any of it?”

Saying she didn’t care for complicated things like investigations rang a bit hollow, considering she had already demanded a warrant and called out the missing ‘nighttime execution’ clause. Either way, Juaiye just wanted these three men out of her room as fast as humanly possible.

That was when the highest-ranking officer, wearing rich shoulder epaulets, finally spoke up:

“Lady Ritorna… simply refuses to be reasoned with. But you were once her friend, weren’t you, Lady Aiolia? If you go speak with her, perhaps she might say something to you—like why she killed the maid, or what the maid did wrong. It’s even possible that a noble lady of such high standing committing such a heinous crime is all just a huge misunderstanding. Could you please just talk to her, as her friend?”

He had a point. She really had been Ritorna’s friend.

To be precise, it was ‘Aiolia’ who had been friends with Ritorna da Vinkitur, not Juaiye.

Juaiye tried hard to recall her past life as Aiolia. A few memories surfaced, but they felt distant and hazy, as if they belonged to someone else entirely.

“Then you could have just come pick me up during the day. Why drag me out like this in the middle of the night?”

“Well… her condition comes and goes.”

In other words, Ritorna wasn’t always in a state where she could converse with people. Juaiye let out a soft, understanding sigh. She asked one last question:

“So if I just exchange a few words with Ritorna and get her to spill why she killed her maid… you’ll bring me right back here? To this apartment?”

“Yes, absolutely! For all we know, a noble lady as refined as Lady Ritorna might have been falsely accused!” the officer replied, his face brightening up.

Juaiye sighed heavily. Falsely accused? There were over ten witnesses!

Ritorna had definitely killed that maid. And Juaiye, ripped out of bed in the middle of the night, was doomed to not see her home again until she figured out why her old friend had done it—even if she really didn’t want to admit that girl was ever her friend.