Chapter 49: Before That Rain Falls

A City in Chaos

“Lord Angus, this is the fifth incident today.”

The captain, wiping sweat from his brow, saluted Angus, who’d come to the prison to investigate.

Angus’s face was as dark as the night outside. “I’m here for that. Tell me what happened.”

“This morning, two vendors fought over a stall spot. Then a robbery. At noon, a horse crashed into a shop, causing a ruckus. The owner killed it to stop the damage, and the horse’s owner, yelling ‘You dared kill my horse,’ stabbed him over thirty times.”

“What else?”

“Another robbery. Then a thief, beaten up, gathered cronies for revenge, escalating into a brawl.”

Angus stroked his beard, pondering.

Save for the poor shopkeeper, none were major incidents, but so many in one day raised suspicions.

“Are all suspects detained?” Angus asked.

“Yes, locals and outsiders, all questioned. No issues found,” the captain replied, anticipating Angus’s thoughts.

“Nothing tied to the succubus? Could they be under some influence?”

“We had mages check. No signs of manipulation—all acted willingly.”

Pacing, Angus turned to the captain. “Your take?”

“Me?” The captain hesitated, then spoke plainly. “With the Holy Knight exam, the city’s packed with visitors—trouble’s expected. Today’s the only rest day. After the exam, most will leave quickly…”

“Second-to-last rest day,” Angus corrected. “But I get you.”

“You think it’s not a coincidence?” the captain ventured.

“That’s my fear. Heighten security citywide, enforce the curfew. I’ll face His Majesty’s scrutiny after the exam, but we can’t afford more incidents.”

“We’re already stretched thin.”

“Do as I say. My gut tells me tonight won’t be easy,” Angus stressed. “Especially the city lord’s mansion—the Fourth Princess must not come to harm in Solus City.”

A Princess’s Burden

In the city lord’s mansion, Cecilia sat at her desk, staring at a stack of documents, her pen pausing as she sank into thought.

The exam duties were grueling. As head examiner, she only needed to review submitted procedures and data. Approving them unchecked was fine, but to avoid foul play, Cecilia insisted on doing it herself.

As head examiner, she had to be impeccable.

She knew her efforts wouldn’t change how others saw her—a cursed princess no one trusted.

Angus obeyed her due to her title, his dedication to the exam, and the recent assassination attempt that forced his attention.

Merchants and soldiers were the same—driven by need or bound by her status. All compliance was superficial.

Compared to them, Rita, known only a week, felt purer, easier to be around.

Where was Rita now?

Setting down her pen, Cecilia summoned a maid. “Call Rita to the study. I need to speak with her.”

“Your Highness, Lady Rita isn’t here. She left early this morning,” the maid replied.

Swallowing disappointment, Cecilia pressed. “She left this morning? It’s nearly evening—still not back?”

“No.”

“Do you know what she’s doing?”

“No, but she seemed happy leaving.”

Cecilia pictured Rita’s goofy smile as she headed out.

It was a rest day—letting her unwind made sense. Let her enjoy it.

Picking up her pen, Cecilia said, “Fine. Notify me when she returns. You may go.”

The maid left. Cecilia refocused on her documents. Hours later, her work was done, but Rita hadn’t returned.

A sense of unease crept into her heart, making her restless.

A Dangerous Invitation

When Rita and Kross left the theater, dusk had deepened. The curfew thinned the streets.

Rita should’ve declined Kross’s invitation, returning to rest for tomorrow’s exam.

But Kross’s sincere expression was impossible to refuse.

Later, at a small house near the brothel, Kross unlocked the door. “Welcome, Lady Rita.”

Rita stepped inside, scanning the space. Narrow, with a hallway linking a bathroom, kitchen, and Kross’s bedroom, it felt lifeless, like it existed only for shelter.

Kross sat Rita on a hardwood single bed—the only seat besides a wardrobe, table, and sparse necessities.

Even the cheapest inn Rita stayed in had more warmth.

Scratching her cheek, Kross said sheepishly, “Sorry, most of my earnings go to my parents’ debt. I’ve no spare coin for comforts. Today’s treat is from my savings.”

“Can’t you live at the brothel?” Rita asked.

“No, space is tight—mostly guest rooms. No place for staff, and it’s inconvenient to come and go.” Kross paused. “Plus, I don’t like that place…”

To keep Kross from sinking into gloom, Rita changed the subject. “So, what’s for dinner?”

Her pivot felt forced but worked.

Kross’s eyes lit up. “I’ll cook for you, Lady Rita. Will you mind?”

“Mind? I’m thrilled!”

“Sit tight then. I’ve got some ingredients left.”

Kross hopped off, like a real bunny.

Perfect—everything was on track.

Bringing Rita to the brothel was risky. This secluded house, near yet separate, with a hidden basement passage, was ideal for finishing her.

Next, the task was simple.

Kross tightened her grip on the pink-glowing vial in her pocket.