Milo considered that the carriage may have been poorly constructed, but the man was adamant that heavily muscled men had purposely targeted them. The deliberate destruction left no doubt that this was a calculated act.
The upper class of Acid had always relied heavily on their connections with the North gate soldiers, especially during the busy season when the demand for high-quality goods was at its peak. The reliability of the upper class hinged on their ability to quickly and safely transport their goods, and their relationship with the gate soldiers was essential to that end. Milo understood this better than anyone and spared no expense in building and maintaining friendships with the soldiers at every gate.
The man’s voice cut through Milo’s thoughts. “The child who was working during the investigation talked to a soldier from the North gate who he was close with. They said the troublemakers came from the center.”
“The center?” Milo frowned. It was possible that it referred to the elite social circle or even the palace, but he couldn’t fathom why the royal family would care about the affairs of the upper class. Could they be suspicious of their ties to Biflten? With Acid’s recent surge in activity, it was a time of heightened vigilance. Milo understood that they had to be open to all scenarios.
Milo’s gaze shifted to the group around him as he gestured, “First, let’s hear what people around the central social circle have to say.” Without delay, he compiled the accounts from the area.
As the carriages arrived at each gate, a similar pattern emerged, with winter people dispatched to each one. They all recounted the same tale of troublemakers causing chaos, and upon investigation, the culprits were linked to the central social circle. Winter people who sought information from the circle returned with valuable details. “It’s rumored that the Duke of Leon was behind it,” they disclosed.
Milo couldn’t hide his surprise. If the duke was indeed involved, he would have had ways to operate without detection from their information network. But the fact that the information surfaced so quickly indicated that they didn’t care about being exposed, or perhaps even wanted it.
If the other side was indeed the Duke, Milo knew that he couldn’t make decisions alone. “Prepare to go to the winter secretly,” he instructed. Boarding a winter-bound carriage earlier than usual, he disguised himself as a carriage worker heading north.
* * *
“A planned attack?” Aden asked.
Milo surveyed the unseasonably warm winter region, his disbelief palpable. He had arrived at the Biflten mansion in attire suitable for summer, which explained his incredulity. Though, had the weather been this hot during the day, the imperial subjects would have bemoaned it as an unprecedented cold spell. However, as a native of the winter region, Milo found the climate tolerable with only a thick coat to warm him. He had even dared to venture out without a scarf. The heat had surprised him, and he couldn’t help but wonder if his lingering hangover had caused him to feel disoriented or if the winter region had undergone an unusual heatwave in February. Using the word “warm” to describe the winter region was a first for him. To Milo, warm meant feeling the cool breeze against his skin.
But Milo was brought back to reality when he heard the winter duke speak again. “Yes,” he replied, slightly delayed. Milo felt the winter duke’s sharp gaze bore into him, causing a cold sweat to break out on his forehead. “It’s not just the Northern Gate. The same thing happened at all the gates, and after interrogating them, we found out that there was a rumor that it was ordered by the Duke of Leon,” he continued.
Ilyin, who had been listening quietly, interjected, “So, you found the mastermind quickly?”
Milo deeply bowed his head in acknowledgement of her sharp observation. “Yes, so I listened to the story a little more because I thought maybe they intentionally revealed themselves over there…” he trailed off, unfolding the letter with a worried expression.
“You will pay the price for touching Leon.” Milo read aloud, causing Ilyin to furrow her brow in confusion. She couldn’t have not known Leon, one of the most powerful noble houses in the empire.
The second son, a notorious scoundrel, had a reputation that preceded him wherever he went. His roguish exploits and scandalous escapades were the talk of the town, much to the chagrin of his family. The third son was no better. He had lost his arm in a brawl over a woman and was branded as the disgrace of Leon. However, there were whispers that he had turned over a new leaf, but it was worth suspecting the source of the information was from the Duchess of Leon herself, who was at the center of high society gossip.
“Is it from Duke Leon?” Ilyin asked. Milo shook his head.
“It’s Amid von Leon, the second son,” he replied. He risked the family’s reputation even though he was not the first in line to inherit the family’s legacy, nor was he the duke himself. This implied that if he were to fail, he would be disregarded and treated as a mere disposable pawn. In such a scenario, they would likely justify it by branding him as a “scoundrel” and finding it acceptable.
Milo considered that the carriage may have been poorly constructed, but the man was adamant that heavily muscled men had purposely targeted them. The deliberate destruction left no doubt that this was a calculated act.
The upper class of Acid had always relied heavily on their connections with the North gate soldiers, especially during the busy season when the demand for high-quality goods was at its peak. The reliability of the upper class hinged on their ability to quickly and safely transport their goods, and their relationship with the gate soldiers was essential to that end. Milo understood this better than anyone and spared no expense in building and maintaining friendships with the soldiers at every gate.
The man’s voice cut through Milo’s thoughts. “The child who was working during the investigation talked to a soldier from the North gate who he was close with. They said the troublemakers came from the center.”
“The center?” Milo frowned. It was possible that it referred to the elite social circle or even the palace, but he couldn’t fathom why the royal family would care about the affairs of the upper class. Could they be suspicious of their ties to Biflten? With Acid’s recent surge in activity, it was a time of heightened vigilance. Milo understood that they had to be open to all scenarios.
Milo’s gaze shifted to the group around him as he gestured, “First, let’s hear what people around the central social circle have to say.” Without delay, he compiled the accounts from the area.
As the carriages arrived at each gate, a similar pattern emerged, with winter people dispatched to each one. They all recounted the same tale of troublemakers causing chaos, and upon investigation, the culprits were linked to the central social circle. Winter people who sought information from the circle returned with valuable details. “It’s rumored that the Duke of Leon was behind it,” they disclosed.
Milo couldn’t hide his surprise. If the duke was indeed involved, he would have had ways to operate without detection from their information network. But the fact that the information surfaced so quickly indicated that they didn’t care about being exposed, or perhaps even wanted it.
If the other side was indeed the Duke, Milo knew that he couldn’t make decisions alone. “Prepare to go to the winter secretly,” he instructed. Boarding a winter-bound carriage earlier than usual, he disguised himself as a carriage worker heading north.
* * *
“A planned attack?” Aden asked.
Milo surveyed the unseasonably warm winter region, his disbelief palpable. He had arrived at the Biflten mansion in attire suitable for summer, which explained his incredulity. Though, had the weather been this hot during the day, the imperial subjects would have bemoaned it as an unprecedented cold spell. However, as a native of the winter region, Milo found the climate tolerable with only a thick coat to warm him. He had even dared to venture out without a scarf. The heat had surprised him, and he couldn’t help but wonder if his lingering hangover had caused him to feel disoriented or if the winter region had undergone an unusual heatwave in February. Using the word “warm” to describe the winter region was a first for him. To Milo, warm meant feeling the cool breeze against his skin.
But Milo was brought back to reality when he heard the winter duke speak again. “Yes,” he replied, slightly delayed. Milo felt the winter duke’s sharp gaze bore into him, causing a cold sweat to break out on his forehead. “It’s not just the Northern Gate. The same thing happened at all the gates, and after interrogating them, we found out that there was a rumor that it was ordered by the Duke of Leon,” he continued.
Ilyin, who had been listening quietly, interjected, “So, you found the mastermind quickly?”
Milo deeply bowed his head in acknowledgement of her sharp observation. “Yes, so I listened to the story a little more because I thought maybe they intentionally revealed themselves over there…” he trailed off, unfolding the letter with a worried expression.
“You will pay the price for touching Leon.” Milo read aloud, causing Ilyin to furrow her brow in confusion. She couldn’t have not known Leon, one of the most powerful noble houses in the empire.
The second son, a notorious scoundrel, had a reputation that preceded him wherever he went. His roguish exploits and scandalous escapades were the talk of the town, much to the chagrin of his family. The third son was no better. He had lost his arm in a brawl over a woman and was branded as the disgrace of Leon. However, there were whispers that he had turned over a new leaf, but it was worth suspecting the source of the information was from the Duchess of Leon herself, who was at the center of high society gossip.
“Is it from Duke Leon?” Ilyin asked. Milo shook his head.
“It’s Amid von Leon, the second son,” he replied. He risked the family’s reputation even though he was not the first in line to inherit the family’s legacy, nor was he the duke himself. This implied that if he were to fail, he would be disregarded and treated as a mere disposable pawn. In such a scenario, they would likely justify it by branding him as a “scoundrel” and finding it acceptable.
