The carriage rattled along the cobblestone road, carrying Silica and her silent attendant.
Inside, the air was thick with her simring frustration. Silica sat stiffly, her back straight and her fingers drumming impatiently on the polished armrest.
"That sneaky little brat," she muttered. Her sharp glare was fixed on the carriage wall as if she could will her frustration into submission. "Because he ran off, I'm the one left dealing with all this nonsense. Just wait until he dares to show his face again, I'll teach him a lesson he'll never forget!"
Across from her, the attendant sat quietly, her gaze lowered to the floor. She dared not interrupt the storm of her mistress's fury, even as Silica's muttering filled the confined space.
The academy gave that card for personal use, so they had the right to freeze it. But she didn't think they would go that far.
Her eyes narrowed as she fud.
"Those stingy old n wouldn't even spare
a decent personal allowance.'" She scoffed loudly, crossing her arms.
The attendant hesitated before speaking softly. "Perhaps... it's because they noticed how Lady Silica has been using the funds. That could explain why they froze the cards."
Silica's exhaled sharply, her frustration flowing out in a heavy sigh.
"Out of funds," she muttered, shaking her head. "No fine wine. No lively establishnts. Just dull, agonizing days ahead. Why should soone like
have to endure this?"
The rhythmic clatter of the carriage wheels filled the silence that followed. It rolled lazily through the bustling streets of the imperial capital, the sounds of the city filtering faintly into the cabin.
rchants called out their wares, their voices blending with children's laughter darting between stalls.
The tantalizing aroma of sizzling skewers and freshly baked bread wafted through the air.
But none of it lightened Silica's mood.
Silica leaned back with a huff, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her gaze turned toward the window, her eyes catching her own reflection in the glass. The mix of anger and weariness staring back at her only deepened her scowl.
"Thinking about it," she muttered to herself, her fingers now tapping idly against the window fra, "maybe I shouldn't have been so quick to chase off that third prince. I could have extor-"
She paused, catching herself and correcting with a sly smile. "Asked him for a generous loan."
Across from her, the attendant stifled a chuckle, keeping her expression neutral. Silica didn't notice or pretended not to.
Her gaze wandered out the carriage window again, her expression darkening as she watched the lively city streets.
The cheerful buzz of rchants and the laughter of children grated on her nerves, a stark contrast to her own predicant.
Her lips curled into a grimace as she muttered, "Should I go to my brother's place and ask for so funds?"
But in the next second, she shook her head, frowning. "No, I don't want to go there. That place reeks of herbs. It's unbearable."
"Then how about returning to the academy?" the attendant suggested cautiously, gauging her mistress's mood.
"This soon? Absolutely not." Silica leaned back with a dramatic sigh, crossing her arms. "It's only been a week since I left."
As the carriage turned a corner, Silica's sharp eyes caught sight of a familiar figure shuffling through the crowd.
"Stop the carriage!"
The vehicle ca to a halt, and Silica stepped, her attendant hurrying behind her. Without hesitation, she strode toward the hunched figure of an old man clutching a worn flyer in his hands.
"Oh, it's you," Silica said, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "Still lingering in the capital? I thought you'd have scurried off by now."
The old man turned at the sound of her voice, his expression shifting from surprise to unease. His grip on the flyer tightened, as if to hide it from her prying eyes.
"What's that?" Silica's keen eyes darted to the paper in his hands. Before he could react, she snatched it away with a quick swipe.
She scanned the text with interest. The flyer, marked with the imperial seal, announced a bounty:
[Wanted: Dark Figures Terrorizing the Empire. Reward: 10,000 Gold Per Capture or Kill.]
An eyebrow arched as Silica finished reading. She glanced at the old man, a sly grin forming on her face. "Your old bones greedy enough to chase after this reward?"
The old man shook his head hastily, his discomfort growing.
"Not . But this lad here…" He gestured awkwardly to a figure standing at his side.
Only then did Silica notice Zarak. He was lean, with sharp features and an air of confidence. His gaze t hers briefly, both unreadable.
Her curiosity piqued, she asked, "Your apprentice, or sothing?"
"Just a travel companion," the old man muttered, clearly reluctant to offer more information.
Silica's focus shifted back to the flyer. She held it up, waving it slightly.
"Maybe we should join this bounty hunt," she mused aloud, her tone. "I'm bored, and the reward is tempting. Seems like fate's throwing
a bone."
Turning to the old man, her grin widened. "You know where their hideout is, don't you? Co on, old man, just spill it. We can split the profit. Generously, of course."
The old man's discomfort deepened. He glanced around nervously before muttering, "I wouldn't know such things, young miss. Those people are dangerous. You'd be wise to leave them alone."
"Oh, co now. If you don't know, who would? Don't act like you've been wandering the city aimlessly. Besides…" She straightened, her expression turning sugary sweet, though her eyes glead with mischief. "I'm doing you a favor here. Tell
where their hideout is, and I promise not to ntion that you've been sneaking around the capital."
***
-Dwight state-
The grand gates of the Dwight mansion creaked open. The estate, usually alive with bustling activity and cheerful chatter, seed oddly muted.
"Finally back!" Spark stepped through the gates with Yuna by his side, his sharp gaze taking in the muted activity.
The maids hurried about their tasks but kept their heads down, their faces pale and strained.
"What's going on?" Spark muttered.
Yuna, ever perceptive, glanced around.
Their steps quickened as they approached the mansion's grand entrance.
The head butler, an older man with a stoic deanor, awaited them in the foyer. His usual calm presence was undermined by a flicker of worry in his eyes as he bowed deeply.
"Welco back, Young Master,"
Spark nodded and asked. "Where are others?"
The butler straightened, folding his hands before him. "Lady Sophia and Young Lady Alice are in the garden."
"And my father? Reynold?"
"Young Master Reynold has departed for the capital. As for Lord Renard..." The butler's voice grew quieter. "He has been awaiting your return in the main chamber."
"Reynold left without a word? And Father... waiting for ? What's going on here?"
As if sensing his presence, in the next instance, spark and Yuna were teleported to a vast white chamber.
At the far end of the chamber, Dwight Renard sat on a decorative chair carved with the family's crest.
Usually commanding in presence, his father now bore a grave expression, the lines of worry etched deeply into his face.
"Father?" Spark's voice cut through the stillness. "What's going on?"
Renard did not answer imdiately. He rose from his seat with deliberate slowness. His weary eyes never left Spark.
"Spark," Renard began. "Your sister... has disappeared."
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