The Villain’s Aide Has Run Away - Chapter 43.2
He handled his share of the work quietly. At times when questions arose, he simply jotted down concise notes.
Robin glanced sideways at Leslun. He hadn’t realized how much strength a single capable aide, one who could accomplish the work of several people, could be.
An unreadable smile briefly flickered across Robin’s otherwise plain face.
Soon the two of them were absorbed in their tasks. Only the rustling of papers and the faint scratching of pen nibs across parchment filled the room.
***
Count Camilo’s nerves were stretched taut, as if on edge.
The threat-like promise he had made to go after Leslun—he had failed to keep it. From the beginning, he hadn’t been given an opening to approach.
Like hawks from foreign lands circling the sky in surveillance, watchful eyes endlessly hovered around. And once he entered the Imperial Palace, he hadn’t been given the slightest chance to encounter Leslun.
To think they would wrap up a mere aide of dubious background so tightly, without leaving even the tiniest gap.
“Damn it, what am I supposed to report to the Empress?”
It was a situation where he had to bring back at least some piece of information. Yet the fact that he held nothing at all in his hands now—it was choking him.
Slowly exhaling, Count Camilo fixed his gaze on the spire of the Crown Prince’s palace.
“How long do you think you can hide in there?”
If he could just slip through the net of surveillance, seizing Leslun would only be a matter of time. Once he had him, he planned to punish the wretch who had gone into hiding and then drag out information about the Crown Prince.
“If only I could just meet him…”
As Count Camilo brooded anxiously, a presence stirred behind him.
“How dare you enter without permission—! …Ahem.”
It was no servant.
“You are…”
Count Camilo scowled at the man who entered with the sweep of ornate robes. Regardless of power or status, to walk into the townhouse where he was staying without so much as his consent—it provoked his displeasure.
“What brings you here, Viscount Brian Byweiner?”
They were both of the rank of counts, but Camilo had inherited his title, while Brian was still only the heir apparent. And yet, the Byweiner family was the stronger of the two houses. That fact alone pulled Camilo’s mood down to the ground, reminding him that he couldn’t take the other lightly.
All of that influence was thanks to the Empress. He had chosen the wrong rope to grasp—the Crown Prince’s.
Brian, instead of answering, let his eyes roam the room.
Antique furniture and carefully arranged ornaments stood prominently on display. From the townhouse’s location and façade in the capital to the details within, it was clear how meticulously Camilo had attended to everything.
Brian’s eyes shifted to the broad, high-backed chair placed in the very center of the room. With a faint, ambiguous smile, he walked naturally toward it and sat down—
—as if it had been his seat from the very beginning.
A flicker of wounded pride passed over Count Camilo’s face. He wanted to bark at him to stand at once, but the thought of the damage he himself would incur kept him silent.
That insufferable viscount might well run straight to the Empress and twist the story however he pleased. Suppressing the anger boiling up within, Camilo merely looked steadily at Brian.
Brian, seated at the head, leaned forward slightly to meet Camilo’s eyes.
“Shall I help you?”
Brian’s voice was kind, yet carried an odd leisure. As though he had already calculated what Camilo’s response would be.
For a moment, Count Camilo was at a loss for words. And in that brief silence, Brian’s smile deepened with greater composure.
“There’s hardly a need for such help…”
Camilo answered cautiously, but Brian only curved his lips once more and continued.
“At times like these, you know how powerful the right assistance can be.”
A subtle tension spread between them. At the same time, there was the delicate sense that each was probing into the other’s intentions.
The first to yield was Count Camilo. For the moment, he was the one in need.
“I must meet the Crown Prince’s aide, but I’ve been searching for the opportunity.”
Perhaps Brian had already heard as much from the Empress, yet Camilo spoke as though he were revealing his true aim. He acted as though conceding to Brian’s help reluctantly, though in truth his mind continued its relentless weighing of profit and loss.
Brian drew a small vial from his breast and set it down loudly upon the table.
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