The Villain’s Aide Has Run Away

Kailos tapped Leslun on the shoulder.

“Even when startled, you just widen your eyes silently. Unexpected.”

Finding that reaction amusing, Kailos laughed until his eyes curved. Then, soon after, he reached out a hand toward Leslun.

At the moment Leslun felt that hand might cover his whole face, he braced against the door behind him.

Because Kailos kindly opened the door for him, Leslun, now with nothing to lean against, nearly fell backward. But even then, Kailos caught him by the waist, keeping him from toppling.

“First, let’s get your measurements.”

It seemed today Kailos had firmly decided to make things difficult for him. While Leslun stood frozen in place, Robin let out a sigh.

***

The waiting tailor approached.

“This way, please.”

Suppressing the urge to refuse, Leslun followed the tailor. Since it was obvious where the tailor was headed, there was no need for him to walk in front.

He simply followed obediently—until he sensed something strange. They were passing through an area that normally should have been heavily guarded. Yet today there was no one around, and the tailor’s gait seemed needlessly stiff.

He even glanced about, as though searching for something. Leslun’s expression hardened.

“Where are we going?”

“We are heading to the place I was instructed to.”

“Who told you?”

Leslun asked, unable to shake his suspicion.

If this were truly to take Kailos’s measurements, Robin would have been the one arranging it. He hadn’t known he would be fitted for clothes himself. It was a series of wholly unexpected events.

“You’ll see when we arrive.”

The tailor’s vague answer pushed things past mere suspicion—now it was a matter of taking precautions.

He saw the tailor reach into his sleeve.

Shring.

The sound of metal. Leslun stepped back at once.

“Leslun.”

Suddenly, Kailos’s voice sounded from just nearby, as though he had followed after them. Leslun turned in haste.

“Your Highness?”

At that, the tailor’s expression stiffened and he faltered. The decision came swiftly: he shoved the dagger deep back into his sleeve, rigid and tense.

Kailos came closer and seized Leslun’s arm.

“Now that I see again, he isn’t the tailor from the shop I frequent.”

The tailor froze, giving no reply. Caught by Kailos’s grip, Leslun half turned his body.

“Leave now. Today, my aide and I will prepare the suit together.”

At the Crown Prince’s stern command, the tailor bowed his head in dismay.

“Then, shall we be off?”

Leslun moved as Kailos guided him. Even after the two disappeared, the tailor could not stir—frozen in place by something pressing cold against his back.

From behind the tailor, a man stepped forward. It was Robin.

“Who are you?”

Robin’s tone was colder than usual as he interrogated the tailor. While the disguised man muttered inaudible curses between his teeth, Robin came right up to him.

The dagger had been put away, but the man could not move rashly—for at some point, two knights had closed in, their blades pressed under his chin.

“I’ll ask again. You killed the real tailor and came here in disguise. Who are you?”

He was not from the appointed tailor’s shop. Even under Robin’s relentless questioning, the impersonator only bit his lips and lowered his head.

“So you’ve no intention of answering, even to the end.”

Robin muttered after asking twice with no reply. But he did not sound disappointed.

“It seems His Highness was right—Count Camilo must be in quite a hurry.”

At those offhand words, the false tailor’s eyes widened.

Count Robert Camilo’s order to bring back Leslun had been exposed in vain.

Meanwhile, Count Camilo, who had been waiting for Leslun, rose with a hollow expression.

His scheme to sabotage the completion ceremony using wine had collapsed into nothing. Because of it, he had even been harshly scolded by Empress Tera.

Since then, not a single thing had gone his way.

And the Leslun he so long sought had already departed beyond the castle walls, riding in a carriage together with the Crown Prince.