We've arrived.
Though sudden and unclear why he was acting as a guide, Etienne’s words were unnecessary. Could the dazzling city beyond the long wilderness truly be anywhere but Raven? The clatter of hooves outside the carriage and the bustling crowd only amplified the lively atmosphere.
Of course, such a city would never allow unchecked entry. Just before the carriages passed through the gates, two guards approached the lead carriage.
“State your affiliation and purpose,” one demanded, his face dull with boredom. They’re probably just eager to end their shift and eat, Mia thought as she presented the pass.
“We’re from the Grenier Guild.”
The pass was flawless—how could there be issues with one personally issued by the guild head? Yet upon hearing the name, the guards grew solemn and huddled in discussion. Finally, they turned to Mia.
“Your representatives differ from last time.”
An oddly sharp observation for guards who seemed half-asleep. Mia stifled a smirk. If they truly cared about security, they wouldn’t dawdle like this.
“Different? I wouldn’t know. Let us through, and you can ask the guild leader yourself when he arrives. Though with this…” She handed them a heavy leather pouch.
The men’s lips curled into sly smiles as they accepted it. After counting the silver coins in a corner, they waved the procession through.
The sunset gilded Raven’s buildings in gold. Streets teemed with finely dressed crowds, and even the vendors displayed luxuries. At the heart of this splendor stood Louisnal, the city’s grandest hotel.
A shabby carriage halted before the hotel, and a woman stepped out—her stride elegant, her expression icily haughty.
Mia Elize Blanchard. Or rather, for this journey, Ellie, the guild’s temporary representative.
Etienne Maxim Rochefort—Max, her aide—followed closely. “Shall we enter?”
Mia nodded. The lobby, undoubtedly shaped by Grenier’s influence, matched the exterior’s opulence.
As she finished checking in, her gaze caught a man in the corner: impeccably dressed, hair styled to perfection, jewels clinking at his waist. His eyes flicked repeatedly toward the entrance. No ordinary guest.
Etienne raised a brow. “A guest awaits Grenier.”
“Where’s Renaud?”
She didn’t need to look. There he stood in the shadows, as if ashamed of the mediocre “grand operation” he’d orchestrated.
Mia swallowed a laugh and approached. Tap tap. Her fingers brushed his shoulder.
“Our guest is waiting. Attend to him, Renaud.”
He scowled. Her smile prickled him. “Shouldn’t that be your duty?”
A high-ranking noble warranted a commander’s attention, whether in military or guild affairs. Yet Renaud couldn’t outright say so—not with Etienne’s gaze upon him. Mia had no intention of letting him shift blame.
“Wasn’t it you who vowed full responsibility for this venture?”
Etienne’s silence was answer enough. The Legion Commander, revered yet stubborn, had clearly decided: Handle it yourself.
Renaud exhaled sharply. “Very well. I’ll go.”
As he strode toward the noble, Mia murmured to Etienne, “Does he even speak Vermish?”
“He… had classes at the academy. But whether he paid attention…”
Mia snorted.
“Greetings, Your Lordship. You’ve traveled far.” Renaud bowed deeply.
The noble scanned him with a derisive snort. “So the lofty Grenier finally deigns to show itself.”
“You flatter me. I’m but a humble aide.”
“An aide?” The noble’s smile twisted. “Your Vermish is atrocious. Where are you from?”
What? My accent? Renaud scrambled. “The… far south.”
“The south?” The noble’s eyes narrowed. Raven lay in southwestern Veridian. Far south meant beyond Veridian’s borders—an outsider.
“To send a foreigner who can’t even speak properly—is this Grenier’s idea of courtesy?”
Renaud’s neck dampened. “Hospitality is… its own virtue.”
“Virtue?” The noble laughed coldly. “Calling this virtue insults us both. Fetch the woman who spoke earlier. Now.”
