Chapter 48: Thinking too much may not be a good thing
The carriage wove through Bazerolle’s streets, halting before the lord’s mansion.
“Unexpected,” Cynthia murmured, eyeing the modest manor.
She’d pictured a grand estate, opulent and imposing.
This unassuming building, barely larger than a minor noble’s home, defied her expectations.
Without Lorena’s guidance, she’d have thought they’d taken a wrong turn.
“Lord Zekas dislikes ostentation,” Lorena explained, stepping out and offering Cynthia a hand.
“Likely from his merchant days.”
Cynthia didn’t need the help but allowed it, mindful of unseen eyes—Alicia’s eyes.
If Alicia knew about the sewers, she’d surely hear of this meeting.
Etiquette, stifling as it was, mattered.
Cynthia sighed inwardly, resenting the noble protocols she’d come to loathe.
“Miss Cynthia, welcome to Bazerolle.”
A steady voice broke her thoughts.
A middle-aged man, richly dressed but not ostentatious, approached—Lord Zekas.
“You’re Lord Zekas?”
Cynthia’s face bloomed into a practiced smile, honed from countless imperial court encounters.
Even Zekas, seasoned as he was, faltered briefly.
“Indeed. Lorena and Tiani spoke highly of you, but seeing you… words fall short.”
“Your beauty defies description.”
Cynthia’s smile didn’t waver, though she tuned out his flattery—her ears were numb to such praise.
“You’re too kind, Lord Zekas. I didn’t expect a personal greeting.”
Ina, watching, marveled at Cynthia’s act.
If I hadn’t seen her crush undead, I’d buy this delicate noble girl act.
“How could I not greet the city’s savior?”
Zekas chuckled, gesturing inside.
“Come in!”
In Zekas’s study, his butler served fragrant high-mountain black tea.
“Remarkable aroma,” Cynthia said, sipping with poise.
“Truly excellent.”
“Grown in Barlia’s north,” Zekas replied, sipping his own.
“Even in Bazerolle, it’s top-tier. You know tea?”
“A little…”
Cynthia set her cup down, meeting his gaze.
“But you didn’t invite me for tea, did you?”
“Of course, I wish to thank—”
“No need for pleasantries,” she cut in, smile intact but eyes sharp.
“Business, please.”
Zekas laughed awkwardly, studying her.
Her unshakable confidence unnerved him.
Is she prepared? Does she hold something over me?
He signaled his butler.
“Miss Cynthia, I’d like to speak privately.”
Cynthia glanced at Ina, nodding.
“Huh? Why me?”
Ina, lost in staring at Cynthia, blinked.
“Wait outside,” Cynthia said, exasperated.
“Oh, should’ve said so.”
Ina nodded, leaving with the butler.
Zekas chuckled.
“Your attendant, Ina? I know another Ina, but they’re worlds apart.”
“Names repeat. It’s common,” Cynthia replied coolly.
“What’s this about?”
“Balof…”
Zekas spoke cautiously, gauging her reaction, detailing the kingdom’s infiltration by external forces.
But Cynthia’s disinterest—and a flicker of contempt—threw him.
That’s it? her eyes seemed to say.
Sweat beaded on his brow.
She killed Balof. If I don’t satisfy her…
A chilling thought struck.
Balof had sent agents to the Kalmoz Empire recently.
Now, a vampire noble appeared, killed him, and accepted this meeting without hesitation, yet seemed unimpressed.
Is she here to settle scores with me?
Cynthia’s noble facade masked her wariness—Alicia’s influence loomed, and the Blood Crown’s trail led to Barlia’s capital.
Lorena’s bombshell about the Saint’s orders deepened the stakes.
Ina, secretly the Saint, teetered on the edge of exposure, unaware her identity was on Cynthia’s “purge list.”
Zekas, misreading Cynthia’s confidence, feared she’d come to judge him.
The modest mansion, the tea, the talk—all felt like a prelude to a reckoning, with Luofengte and the Blood Crown still lurking in the shadows.