In the second-floor corridor of the small estate, the reek of blood was so thick it forced one to cover their nose. Overwheld by the stench, the cat on Jenkins’s head had been forced into a temporary truce, hiding deep within his overcoat and refusing to erge.
From a distance, they could see two large doors lying on the floor in the middle of the hall. As they drew closer, the sounds of roars and furious shouts echoed from the banquet hall.
Jenkins and Alexia exchanged a glance. He leaned in and whispered a warning.
“Two Enchanters, a level two and a level four. Sothing’s off about the level four—he has too many divine abilities. He might be connected to a heretical cult.”
A level-four Enchanter was already considered high-level. A figure of that caliber would never choose to throw in their lot with a thirteen-year-old prince of no consequence, even if they wanted to pledge allegiance to a worldly power.
Alexia understood his aning. She took a step forward, intending to shield Miss Stuart, but the princess waved her off.
“Rest assured, Teacher. I will handle this.”
The four of them ca to a halt at the entrance, while their guards and servants filed in first. After waiting half a minute, Miss Stuart took her first step, sweeping through the gaping doorway into the banquet hall.
The servants ford two lines, bowing low on either side of a blood-darkened carpet. Those following the princess wore solemn expressions. As she walked, she shrugged off her overcoat. Julia stepped forward to take it, draping it neatly over her forearm.
With the right score, Jenkins thought, such an entrance would have been truly impressive. But he doubted the group huddled before the massive floor-to-ceiling windows would agree. A dozen people were protecting a young boy, their faces etched with terror and anxiety.
The two n Jenkins had identified as Enchanters were among the crowd, but their attire and positions were unremarkable. They were clearly disguised as ordinary guards.
Right now, Howard Stuart looked less like a prince and more like a little boy hiding from thunder under his blankets. He was dressed in a set of rather childish pajamas, and his entire body trembled as if he were afflicted with so disease.
Though he clutched a pistol in his right hand, Jenkins noted that the safety was off, and the barrel was unintentionally aid at the middle-aged guard standing in front of him.
“Tsk, just a kid, after all,” Jenkins sighed.
He lanted the boy's foolishness.
“Who are those people over there?”
He quietly asked Alexia, gesturing toward a corner where a group of guards was pointing at five young won. They were all simply dressed and pretty-faced, and all were trembling in near-perfect unison.
“Howard Stuart’s mistresses,” Alexia replied. “They were probably found in his bedroom a few monts ago.”
“Mistresses? He’s only thirteen... and five of them at once?”
“It’s quite normal. As I said before, Jenkins, the lives of most young nobles are a bit chaotic—especially an idle adolescent boy with too much ti on his hands. Just think, Jenkins, when you were his age, if you had a host of beautiful girls so readily available...”
Jenkins’s face flushed crimson. Whether it was his past self or his current one, his adolescent years had been filled with plenty of wild fantasies. He reacted like his cat, Chocolate, when its tail was prodded, whipping his head around. He had no desire to continue this conversation.
A transparent, do-shaped barrier separated the two groups, the work of the Enchanter hidden among the prince’s guards. Jenkins couldn’t see the point, however; a shield like that couldn’t possibly last forever.
Julia bent down, picked up a fallen ceramic goblet, and hurled it at the barrier. It struck the shield with the sharp crack of an exploding steam bomb. Shards of shattered porcelain shot back toward Miss Stuart’s party at incredible speed, only to be stopped as Julia raised a hand, deflecting them with a shimring ward of her own.
In less than six months, she had grown from an ordinary person into a level-one Enchanter. From what Jenkins could tell, she had focused all her energy on mastering defensive and supportive abilities.
“Howard, give up,” Dolores declared. “You’ve already failed.”
Facing her younger brother, Dolores Stuart displayed a hardened deanor that Jenkins had never seen before. She spoke with an authority that finally made him feel he was in the presence of a princess of a great power, not just his young admirer.
“Sister Dolores, save your breath! I know exactly what’s happening!”
Though the thirteen-year-old’s voice was loud, everyone could hear the tremor running through it. He was nervous and afraid, but he refused to back down.
“He has an escape plan.”
That was Jenkins’s assessnt. Nothing else could explain the boy’s uncharacteristic defiance.
“Howard, I am your sister, and I don’t want to see you beheaded by soone else’s hand. Now, tell , who has been providing you with money and n? Who gave you the intelligence about the rebellion in Sangluo County last year?”
“I won’t tell you. Sister Dolores, you still have a chance to walk away. The forces backing are far greater than you can imagine. You don’t stand a chance.”
As the immature youth spoke, he surreptitiously glanced toward the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him. The movent was so obvious that Jenkins couldn’t tell if it was a deliberate feint or a genuine tell.
“ow~”
The siblings were locked in a stalemate, and no one else in the banquet hall dared to utter a word. In the tense silence, Chocolate’s sudden cry stood out sharply.
Though no one turned to look at him, Jenkins still felt intensely awkward.
“Stop fidgeting!”
He rubbed his chest, then tugged his collar open slightly and spoke into his coat. To anyone who didn't know a cat was nestled inside, he looked no different from a lunatic.
“Is that the specialist Her Highness brought with her?” one of the guards muttered.
From his strange behavior, they deduced Jenkins’s identity as an Enchanter.
“Howard, I promise I won’t have you killed. Just give the answers I need.”
“Sister, you’ve already lost.”
As the boy spoke, he took a small step to the side, revealing the middle-aged man with a walking stick standing just outside the glass doors.
He was floating in mid-air with an amiable smile. His entire outfit was black: a soft silk hat, a crisp formal suit, and leather shoes that glead in the moonlight as if buffed with the most expensive polish.
“Level seven...”
Jenkins muttered the words, his voice just loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.
As he spoke, he placed a hand on Miss Stuart’s shoulder and gently pulled her behind him. Alexia stepped forward at the sa ti, standing shoulder to shoulder with Jenkins.
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