[V14C7] Living in Different Worlds

Henrik pulled Bridget’s hand and ran around a corner in the corridor. Then, he said a quick “Excuse me!” as he hoisted Bridget onto his shoulder.

Bridget stifled a scream and complained, “I can run on my own!”

“This way is faster.”

That’s ridiculous, Bridget thought at first. But then, her field of view swung widely once Henrik started running for real. And he was fast. The soldiers chasing them quickly disappeared into the distance.

She hadn’t noticed when they were guided to the hall and guest rooms on their first tour of the castle, but the corridors of the first floor were complicated, with many branching paths. This was likely intentional to protect against enemy infiltration.

After turning nearly ten corners, Henrik set Bridget down and pulled on a wall-mounted sconce, sliding the wall next to it sideways. A narrow gap appeared in the stone wall, opening up a hidden door.

“This way.”

The gap was just barely wide enough for one person to squeeze through. Beyond it lied total darkness. Nothing could be seen.

Bridget shook off her hesitation and slipped into the gap. The air brushing her face was stagnant, reeking of dust and mold.

Henrik followed her inside, and the door closed on its own. Apparently, it shut automatically after a set amount of time unless the sconce was held down.

As soon as the hidden door closed, everything went completely dark.

Just before the door finished closing, Henrik grabbed Bridget’s left wrist.

She was about to let out a gasp, but Henrik’s hand covered her mouth.

“Stay quiet,” he whispered into her ear.

Henrik reeked of blood and wine, which only made the musty air more disgusting. Bridget felt herself getting dizzy at the smell.

She tried to hold back the nausea as she heard several sets of footsteps. People were on the other side of the wall, likely the soldiers pursuing them.

If she could hear them, then they must be able to hear her too.

Bridget froze, unable to move a single muscle. She listened to the heavy pounding of her heart in an attempt to ignore her fear.

The soldiers started speaking to each other on the other side of the wall. But the language they spoke was not common Imperial, nor was it from Ridill.

(This is…)

Eventually, the voices and footsteps faded into the distance. Henrik let out a quiet sigh and removed his hand from her mouth. However, he did not release her wrist.

“Seems like they’re gone,” Henrik muttered. “I wonder what language that was though. Didn’t sound like standard Imperial…”

“It was the language of Old Solyarg.”

When Bridget said that, she sensed a slight flinch in the hand on her wrist.

She went on to translate what the soldiers had said.

“‘We’ve secured the main hall. The castle staff has been gathered in another room.’ ‘What about the margrave and the secretary?’ ‘No, we lost them. They got away.’ ‘I see, so a single caster wasn’t enough.’ ‘Don’t let him find a sword’…”

Bridget swallowed and continued after a short pause. The last thing the soldiers said was…

“…‘Kill the secretary.’”

“Ah, I thought so.”

Henrik’s reaction was so casual that Bridget couldn’t help but flinch.

(You thought so!? That’s all you have to say about me being targeted for assassination!?)

Unaware of Bridget’s cheek twitching in the darkness, Henrik continued in the same casual tone.

“Well, the soldier coming for me was obviously just trying to stall. That means they must have been after you.”

“…”

“Um… so, could it be that you’re hiding your status? Are you like, a princess in disguise or something?”

Henrik was indirectly asking the question: Do you have any idea why someone would want you dead?

Bridget took a deep breath to suppress her exasperation and disbelief.

Margrave Valmbelk seemed sharp, but he was always off the mark. He had the insight to realize the real target while being surrounded by enemies, yet couldn’t grasp something this obvious?

“I was most likely targeted because I can understand the language of Old Solyarg,” Bridget explained.

“Ah, right… which means… hmm… oh… yeah, I see how it is…”

Henrik muttered to himself for a while, eventually reaching some sort of understanding.

Since she could not see him in the darkness, Bridget glared in the direction of his voice.

“You know of someone from Old Solyarg who has the military power and motive to stage a rebellion, don’t you?”

Bridget asked the question, but to be honest, she had already guessed the identity of the culprit. And Henrik seemed to have reached the same conclusion.

She could easily imagine his wry smile on the other side of the darkness.

“To tell the truth,” Henrik said. “Someone asked if I had plans for independence just a moment ago. Seems like it was actually an invitation to rebellion…”

“…”

“Uh, sorry about dragging you into an internal squabble…”

How humble for a margrave.

Bridget found it difficult to stay angry at him. She couldn’t bring herself to hate him.

Even though she knew the gesture would not be visible in the darkness, Bridget bowed her head.

“This is not something you should be apologizing for, Blanquet-sama. Thank you for saving me.”

“Oh, uh, don’t mention it… This sort of thing happens all the time in our country.”

He considered such a dangerous brush with death a common occurrence? Bridget hoped this was a joke, but the way he dealt with the soldiers seemed far too practiced for that.

Bridget had heard that the Empire was riddled with internal strife, but it seemed the sparks of conflict were far more numerous than she imagined.

Once the conversation was over, Henrik released her wrist and began rustling around. He was apparently feeling along the wall in search of something.

Eventually, he murmured “Found it,” and pressed an object into Bridget’s hand. “This is the emergency candle. Can you hold it for a second while I light it?”

Henrik struck a match and lit the candle. The flickering flame illuminated the area around them.

The darkness made it seem like an impossibly vast space, but it turned out be a rather narrow corridor. One too tight for two adults to walk side-by-side.

Henrik placed the candle on a holder and looked down the corridor.

“We should get moving. So they’ve secured the main hall and locked the castle servants in a separate room. That’s good to know. Where are they holding Frieda and Grandfather though…? They seem willing to negotiate with me, so I guess they’ve probably been taken hostage in the hall…”

Henrik muttered to himself for a while, until he noticed Bridget staring at him.

He quickly voiced another apology.

“I’m really sorry about the mess. We didn’t have enough manpower to clean the hidden passages… Oh man, this is embarrassing.”

That was not the issue at all.

(What is with the guy!? I have no clue what goes on in his head!)

Swallowing her many frustrations, Bridget asked the most urgent question.

“Is our plan to escape the castle and seek aid?”

“No, they’ve probably already surrounded the castle…”

His sharp wolf-gray eyes narrowed in the candlelight.

“…So I will take down the culprit.”

He spoke as if this was the only logical course of action. As if there were no other options.

Henrik took the candleholder and began walking down the corridor.

He was careful not to block the candlelight with his body, ensuring that the path was well-lit for Bridget behind him. Very considerate of him, and yet, his line of thinking was still a mystery to her.

With rising irritation, Bridget asked her next question to his back.

“…How do you intend to negotiate with them?”

The enemy likely intended to negotiate with Henrik.

He had been invited to join the rebellion, so clearly, they wanted him on their side. This meant there had to be some room for negotiation.

Henrik continued walking as he replied in a casual tone.

“Well, I suppose negotiation can create an opening. I can pretend to engage in talks, then go for his head when I get close enough.”

(This guy…)

He was trying to reassure Bridget by telling her how he’ll defeat the enemy and resolve the situation.

Bridget shuddered at the realization.

“But they’ll probably be wary of that…” Henrik continued. “Hmm, first I’ll need to get a weapon… The kitchen seems like a good start…”

Interrupting Henrik’s mutters, Bridget hurriedly closed the distance between them and raised her voice slightly.

“That’s not what I mean! Before resorting to force, we should listen to their demands and attempt negotiation!”

“…Huh?”

Henrik paused and turned to look at her. His repeated blinking belayed his genuine surprise, as if to say the idea had never even occurred to him.

That reaction sent a chill down Bridget’s spine.

“We can consider that after we’ve subdued the enemy forces,” Henrik continued.

The sight of his sheepish smile made Bridget understand.

This man lived in a completely different world from her—one where her logic simply didn’t apply.

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