* * *
If Zavad was going to fuss like this, he could’ve just kicked him out.
Ranshel shook his head.
Just as he grabbed the doorknob to leave, a sharp jolt ran through his fingertips.
A chilling aura of hostility.
“……”
Ranshel slipped his hand under his shirt.
His work clothes were oversized, secured with suspenders over a loose shirt.
Feeling around a hidden pocket, his fingers brushed against a concealed dagger.
…But that was all.
Ranshel pulled his hand back and stepped away from the door.
“Why aren’t you leaving? Didn’t you say you were washing up?”
Zavad’s puzzled voice came from behind. Ranshel fastened his shirt properly, turned around, and asked:
“…Don’t you want something to eat, young master?”
“What?”
“I’m too hungry to function.”
“…Do I look like your personal pantry?”
“Well, not exactly wrong. Just a bit lacking for a pantry…”
“You’ve got some nerve. No one beats you in shamelessness. Stop your nonsense and wait for breakfast like everyone else.”
Zavad waved him off dismissively.
Ranshel reached back for the door handle again.
‘…They’re gone.’
Checking that the door locked properly, Ranshel opened it and said,
“Make sure to lock the door, young master. I won’t be back until after sunrise.”
“Why don’t you go beg in the kitchen? Maybe you’ll find a leftover bone or something.”
“Even I don’t eat bones.”
After exchanging a few light words with Zavad, Ranshel closed the door behind him.
The hallway outside was quiet and still.
Silently, he began surveying the area.
‘No one used the stairs.’
Wooden steps would’ve creaked if someone had.
The only ones staying on this floor were the group headed to the capital.
It wasn’t Petro, obviously, so maybe someone in the escort was planted.
Ranshel sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.
‘Could it be the Duke?’
Wouldn’t be hard for him to assign someone a personal side mission.
‘Or maybe Laruca?’
Wouldn’t be surprising if someone from the Duchess’s side had slipped in either.
Maybe it was both.
Everyone had come from the same Pomel estate, after all—no matter who planted who, it wouldn’t be strange.
Ranshel stayed at Zavad’s door until he heard the lock click, then walked to his own room next door.
As Zavad’s personal servant, Ranshel’s room was beside his, and Petro’s was next to his.
Once inside, Ranshel knocked on the wall. Before long, Petro—older, and not one for long sleep—knocked back in response.
Ranshel headed straight into his room.
“There’s a mole in the escort.”
He laid it out simply.
Petro, who had been tending to his scythe, stroked his bristly gray beard.
“Just as expected.”
“…Then why didn’t you tell me beforehand?”
“Huh? I figured you’d already noticed. Then why’d you sleep in the young master’s room last night?”
“…Of course I knew. I had to protect him, didn’t I?”
“Knew it. When you went into the young master’s room and didn’t come out, I figured as much. Otherwise, I was about to stand guard outside myself.”
“Smart thinking. Good for you. Of course, I’m even better.”
A nervous sweat trickled down his back.
Staring vaguely into the distance for a moment, Ranshel suddenly asked:
“Do you think the young master noticed too?”
“Probably. I mean, it’s not really my place to say, but it’s not like there was just one group out to get him back at the estate.”
A life surrounded by villains… no wonder he can’t ever let his guard down.
Realizing that Zavad had intentionally had him sleep in the same bed last night gave Ranshel a strange feeling.
‘Was I just a human shield?’
No wonder he didn’t sleep.
Even with someone to take the hit, he still couldn’t relax.
Ranshel recalled the events of the night and suddenly realized something else.
‘So that’s why he gave me food!’
All that stew, bread, and juice—he was testing for poison under the guise of being generous.
What a shameless and infuriating young master.
Maybe that kind of shrewdness is what it takes to survive in a world this unfair.
Well, not that it helped last time—Petro had already killed him once.
Though to be fair, that only happened because Ranshel had made the mistake of messing with Petro’s scalp…
‘Anyway, I saved him this time, so it’s fine.’
Besides, he even got Petro on Zavad’s side now.
That should count for something.
With that rationalization, Ranshel twitched the corner of his lips.
He meant to smile, but his face wouldn’t quite cooperate.
Of course, he knew there was no reason for Zavad to suddenly start being kind to him.
It wasn’t like they ever needed to be on good terms in the first place.
Even so, for some reason, his chest ached and his mood felt off.
Had he been… expecting something?
‘…Because earning Zavad’s affection is the only way to gain contribution points.’
That had to be it.
Beating out the countless other villains surrounding Zavad and achieving 80% contribution alone was no easy task.
Until the opportunity came, he needed to become someone Zavad could trust and rely on.
‘And in the meantime, I’ve got to keep other villains in check too…’
Nothing about this was easy.
Ranshel let out a heavy sigh.
“Anyway… I guess we’ll have to figure something out now.”
“Got any ideas?”
Thanks to the precedent set by Petro, truth serums were out of the question.
If he messed up again and Zavad went off about killing people, things would get exhausting fast.
Not to mention, the situation was different from last time.
They couldn’t just knock people out one by one until they uncovered the hidden villain among the guards.
Ranshel shrugged.
“What else can we do? We’ll have to search the escort squad.”
They were traveling with two carriages—one for him and Zavad to ride in, and another for carrying luggage.
The guards on horseback surrounded the carriages in a protective formation as they moved.
Lightening the load on the horses for a long journey was only natural.
Other than the swords at their waists, everyone else traveled light.
In other words, all of the party’s belongings were packed into that single baggage carriage.
The group had finished preparing to leave the inn.
As Ranshel was about to board the same carriage as Zavad, like before, he hesitated.
Zavad was already seated inside, waiting for him to get in.
Ranshel gave him a bright smile.
“Young Master.”
“What?”
“I’ll be right back, so don’t worry too much, okay?”
“…What?”
Just as he was about to step into the carriage, Ranshel suddenly threw himself backward.
“Uwahhh!”
Ranshel tucked and rolled with practiced ease, tumbling across the ground.
To anyone watching, it would look like he had simply slipped and fallen trying to get into the carriage.
“What the—what happened?”
“Hey, are you okay?!”
The guards on horseback looked down at Ranshel with alarm.
Zavad looked even more startled than they did.
* * *
