Chapter 10 - The Most Beautiful Lutist
“What should I do? Ah... Could you lend me some money? I have to care for my skin before I go to the castle.”
In response to the mention of the castle, Luciano looked at the woman who just spoke. Three women in vibrant, light-coloured clothes were walking side by side. They were speaking in the tongue of the southern nations. While he could understand them, he could not speak well enough to respond to them
“I can lend you money, but isn't your pocket a little too loose? You spend it as soon as you get it. I don't think you have anything saved.” One of the other ladies spoke harshly to her friend.
“It’s fine. After all, soon I’ll start seeing very wealthy aristocrats. You know how they are — they'll throw money at any pretty face. Perhaps even tonight.” The lady asking for money turned her head up in contempt.
The other lady snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. You have some lofty fantasies, and your evaluation of yourself is way too high. Nobles aren't crazy about commoners like us.”
“Really, I guess you don’t understand. Everyone tells me that I'm a one-of-a-kind beauty.”
“Who’s ‘everyone’? Don’t be so foolish; someone of status won’t give us commoners a second glance. Why would they bother to entangle with us women when they could have their pick of high-class ladies? Also, the Queen of Armenia is not yet married. It’s obvious that tonight's nobles are all aiming for her.” The lady shook her head at this.
Luciano, who was listening to the conversation, followed them. He realised that they were performers from the country of Kanizales.
The entire performance group consisted of thirty people. The only man was the leader, and the rest were all women. It appeared that the ladies were to go over to the Imperial castle by ship, so that they could prepare for the banquet at night.
Luciano pulled the hood further down his face, shrouding him once again. Although he was hidden from others, he could still still see from under it, his ever-watchful eye glinting with a certain light.
***
It was easy for him to blend into the band of the Kanizales. No one suspected him. Luciano had long, silver hair, similar to her deceased mother, Carmelita. It had continued to grow ever since the fall of Serrat. Moreover, at the age of eighteen, he had a slender body and androgynous face. It allowed him to easily pretend to be a woman. In fact, until now, he had often dressed as a woman, as few were likely to suspect his identity. Additionally, it was easier for him to kill the people he wanted and to stock information. People tended to be far more loose-lipped around a "weak" woman.
First, he went to the inn where the performers stayed, knocked out the musicians — making them faint — and then proceeded to lock them in the storeroom. Applying a thin layer of green makeup to his eyelids and drawing a full red curve of color to his lips, he finished the ensemble off with feminine clothing. Thus, the transformation was complete; he had become a beautiful and seductive woman.
He knew that his supple, delicate, and long eyelashes had a certain effect on both men and women. Inside, he might be a ferocious beast hungering for revenge, but on the outside, he appeared graceful. It's no surprise that the party lacking a musician added him to the team. He looked good, and the person on the instrumentals could easily be changed out. So, it made sense to add him to the group. Behind their leader's back, the female performers talked about the new companion who refused to respond to them. However, it didn't matter to him and he continued to ignore them.
Luciano assembled his future plans while boarding the boat to the castle with the other ladies.
With neither companion, subordinate, nor aid, he ventured into enemy territory alone.
Inside his head, one word consumed him — "kill." This word drove him; it was his sole motivation.
Luciano did not know much about the Queen of Armenia, Alana. After all, they had never met each other directly.
-Are you the same age as Mileia? If my sister were alive, she would be fourteen years old.
-Why is it that those who die are the ones who have every right to live?
What plagued his mind was the constant image of his parents, as their lifeless bodies dangled from the walls of Serrat. The two had died whilst watching their beloved daughter wilt away to nothing. Over time, the three became disfigured, their bodies decayed to the point of being unrecognisable. Even so, the royal family of Serrat continued to be put on display, a warning to all who dare think of opposing.
Luciano, for a moment, had sought the opportunity to covertly steal their bodies and offer a proper burial. His father, mother, and younger sister were people who expressed their goodness without forgetting to thank God every day. And yet... How could anyone do such a terrible, cruel thing? Morals? Human dignity? These were blatantly ignored.
Looking at the shimmering lake, Luciano lifted his chin and glared up at the chalky limestone castle. This castle represented the great might of Armenia, and it filled Luciano with indescribable emotions, enough that it could boil over at any moment. It seemed that all the darkness concealed was concentrated in his chest, where a single black flame burned.
It was impossible to express the feelings that permeated his body in a never-ending storm. To call this hatred would hardly suffice. These were feelings of anger and resentment that would never disappear, no matter how many lives he took or even if he killed everything in the world.
- Destroy everyone. They should all equally die.
Chapter 10 - The Most Beautiful Lutist
“What should I do? Ah... Could you lend me some money? I have to care for my skin before I go to the castle.”
In response to the mention of the castle, Luciano looked at the woman who just spoke. Three women in vibrant, light-coloured clothes were walking side by side. They were speaking in the tongue of the southern nations. While he could understand them, he could not speak well enough to respond to them
“I can lend you money, but isn't your pocket a little too loose? You spend it as soon as you get it. I don't think you have anything saved.” One of the other ladies spoke harshly to her friend.
“It’s fine. After all, soon I’ll start seeing very wealthy aristocrats. You know how they are — they'll throw money at any pretty face. Perhaps even tonight.” The lady asking for money turned her head up in contempt.
The other lady snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. You have some lofty fantasies, and your evaluation of yourself is way too high. Nobles aren't crazy about commoners like us.”
“Really, I guess you don’t understand. Everyone tells me that I'm a one-of-a-kind beauty.”
“Who’s ‘everyone’? Don’t be so foolish; someone of status won’t give us commoners a second glance. Why would they bother to entangle with us women when they could have their pick of high-class ladies? Also, the Queen of Armenia is not yet married. It’s obvious that tonight's nobles are all aiming for her.” The lady shook her head at this.
Luciano, who was listening to the conversation, followed them. He realised that they were performers from the country of Kanizales.
The entire performance group consisted of thirty people. The only man was the leader, and the rest were all women. It appeared that the ladies were to go over to the Imperial castle by ship, so that they could prepare for the banquet at night.
Luciano pulled the hood further down his face, shrouding him once again. Although he was hidden from others, he could still still see from under it, his ever-watchful eye glinting with a certain light.
***
It was easy for him to blend into the band of the Kanizales. No one suspected him. Luciano had long, silver hair, similar to her deceased mother, Carmelita. It had continued to grow ever since the fall of Serrat. Moreover, at the age of eighteen, he had a slender body and androgynous face. It allowed him to easily pretend to be a woman. In fact, until now, he had often dressed as a woman, as few were likely to suspect his identity. Additionally, it was easier for him to kill the people he wanted and to stock information. People tended to be far more loose-lipped around a "weak" woman.
First, he went to the inn where the performers stayed, knocked out the musicians — making them faint — and then proceeded to lock them in the storeroom. Applying a thin layer of green makeup to his eyelids and drawing a full red curve of color to his lips, he finished the ensemble off with feminine clothing. Thus, the transformation was complete; he had become a beautiful and seductive woman.
He knew that his supple, delicate, and long eyelashes had a certain effect on both men and women. Inside, he might be a ferocious beast hungering for revenge, but on the outside, he appeared graceful. It's no surprise that the party lacking a musician added him to the team. He looked good, and the person on the instrumentals could easily be changed out. So, it made sense to add him to the group. Behind their leader's back, the female performers talked about the new companion who refused to respond to them. However, it didn't matter to him and he continued to ignore them.
Luciano assembled his future plans while boarding the boat to the castle with the other ladies.
With neither companion, subordinate, nor aid, he ventured into enemy territory alone.
Inside his head, one word consumed him — "kill." This word drove him; it was his sole motivation.
Luciano did not know much about the Queen of Armenia, Alana. After all, they had never met each other directly.
-Are you the same age as Mileia? If my sister were alive, she would be fourteen years old.
-Why is it that those who die are the ones who have every right to live?
What plagued his mind was the constant image of his parents, as their lifeless bodies dangled from the walls of Serrat. The two had died whilst watching their beloved daughter wilt away to nothing. Over time, the three became disfigured, their bodies decayed to the point of being unrecognisable. Even so, the royal family of Serrat continued to be put on display, a warning to all who dare think of opposing.
Luciano, for a moment, had sought the opportunity to covertly steal their bodies and offer a proper burial. His father, mother, and younger sister were people who expressed their goodness without forgetting to thank God every day. And yet... How could anyone do such a terrible, cruel thing? Morals? Human dignity? These were blatantly ignored.
Looking at the shimmering lake, Luciano lifted his chin and glared up at the chalky limestone castle. This castle represented the great might of Armenia, and it filled Luciano with indescribable emotions, enough that it could boil over at any moment. It seemed that all the darkness concealed was concentrated in his chest, where a single black flame burned.
It was impossible to express the feelings that permeated his body in a never-ending storm. To call this hatred would hardly suffice. These were feelings of anger and resentment that would never disappear, no matter how many lives he took or even if he killed everything in the world.
- Destroy everyone. They should all equally die.
