Chapter 19: Instant

“I have to be the princess’s guard? For real?”

Ileil really wanted to say that.

Aressto was at least a major country; her public identity was just a nameless underling under Gro—logically speaking, someone at the princess’s level was something Ileil never imagined she’d come into contact with in her lifetime.

After Duke Lokas stood up to say a few good words for Gro, Prinshitt finally reached a cooperation with Gro.

Both sides discussed some important matters in a relatively harmonious atmosphere, but to Ileil, most of what they discussed sounded like trivial things that didn’t matter.

Everyone knew that Renn Town, located on the northwestern border of Aressto, was not peaceful; they were just throwing out problems, and how to solve them specifically still needed to be discussed.

One thing Ileil couldn’t understand was—this princess hadn’t brought many people to Renn Town at all.

Just as Gro said, the number of people on her side was less than one-third of a normal guard team.

Under Gro’s repeated questioning, Prinshitt had to explain this fact to Gro.

Besides Dorias being a top-tier powerhouse by her side, the others couldn’t even be considered ordinary elites.

This made Ileil feel very strange.

Aressto’s military strength was definitely not inferior to those warlike barbarians in the north; at the very least, the princess should have a few decent combatants by her side.

Ileil couldn’t help but think of the temple knights she had seen in Aressto’s royal city; they were well-equipped and well-trained.

Although Ileil hadn’t fought them, their strength was not to be underestimated; if Prinshitt casually picked some personnel, wouldn’t they easily slaughter those Mor believers?

Ileil recalled that cute cat-eared priestess from yesterday and couldn’t help but sweat for Prinshitt—could it be that everyone around that princess was like this kind of unreliable person?

She even woke up earlier than herself every day, getting up in the early morning to practice swordsmanship?

Couldn’t understand it.

Perhaps Aressto’s King wanted to train his daughter through this method.

Ileil didn’t want to think deeply about Prinshitt’s issues; what she needed to consider next—was how to hide her witch identity by the princess’s side.

…

This breakfast ended quickly.

In the end, they didn’t exchange any useful information.

Before parting, Gro even pretended to pat his shoulder and very thoughtfully reminded her of some things to pay attention to—as if he really was her “adoptive father.”

Just thinking about the tone Gro used when saying those words gave Ileil goosebumps.

Well, at least Gro had fooled the cute Princess Prinshitt.

After that, Dorias explained to Ileil her specific duties for this period, including but not limited to morning sparring, daily guarding, night shifts…

Ileil’s residence was even rearranged, separated from Prinshitt’s bedroom by only a wall.

A week’s time passed quickly.

But in this week, whether on Gro’s side or the princess’s side, they had no new discoveries.

After that bizarre fire, the entire Renn became unusually calm—in Gro’s words, Renn Town’s security had skyrocketed after Prinshitt arrived.

After the morning training every day, Ileil followed Prinshitt and her people shuttling through various parts of the town.

They visited churches, markets, even slums, searching for any possible traces related to heretics.

Prinshitt always wore a plain gray cloak, hiding her conspicuous golden hair in a coarse cloth headscarf, looking like an ordinary noble young lady.

“Has there been any strangers frequently entering and exiting the tavern last month?”

“Has anyone in town been behaving abnormally recently?”

“Have there been any strange things in town these days?”

Prinshitt tirelessly repeated these questions.

Ileil noticed that whenever questioning older townsfolk, the princess would unconsciously slow her speech and soften her voice; when encountering vigilant vendors, she would timely take out a few silver coins and push them over.

These questioning techniques weren’t bad, but the harvest was meager—simply because this Princess clearly lacked experience in dealing with people.

Take the experience on the first day, for example.

Ileil watched Prinshitt clumsily haggle and buy a basket of apples she didn’t need at all, just to inquire if there had been any suspicious outsiders recently.

“This lady, the apples you want…” The old woman selling fruits squinted her eyes.

“Last week, there was indeed a black-robed priest who came to buy, saying it was to treat a patient…”

Prinshitt’s eyes immediately lit up, but upon further questioning, it turned out to be just a passing ordinary physician; this old woman was just inducing Prinshitt to buy more of her stuff.

On the way back, the princess bit into an apple as if venting anger, only to wrinkle her whole face from the sourness.

Dorias held back a laugh and handed her a handkerchief; Ileil pretended not to see her secretly spitting out the core.

On the afternoon of the third day, they discovered some suspicious traces in an abandoned mill on the outskirts of town—charred corners covered with scattered feathers, and twisted symbols drawn with some dark red liquid.

Prinshitt immediately squatted down to check, her fingertips lightly brushing over those dried traces.

“It’s chicken blood,” she judged with a frown.

“It looks like these marks were left not long ago.”

“Should we notify the church people to search?” Ileil asked.

Prinshitt shook her head: “Don’t rush. These clues are too obvious; it’s like they were left deliberately.”

However, subsequent investigation confirmed it was just some drunkard’s prank.

After Dorias checked with holy arts, he also confirmed there were no residues of other powers here.

On the fifth day, a ragged little boy ran over in a panic to report that he saw “a weirdo in a black cloak wandering back and forth” in the cemetery.

Prinshitt immediately took Ileil and rushed over, only to find it was the town’s old gravedigger patrolling at night.

But even though it was just a false alarm, the princess still gave the little boy a few copper coins as a reward and squatted down to look him in the eyes, saying: If you find any suspicious people next time, remember to run and find the guards first.

In this week, they interrogated over a dozen reported heretic suspects, but the results were either neighbor disputes or pure false accusations.

There was someone jealous that the opposite business was better than theirs, righteously claiming that the middle-aged woman in the sundries shop was the fire-starting witch in disguise; there was a blacksmith who was drunk all day, insisting that the deformed piglet his sow gave birth to was possessed by a demon, forcing Ileil to check the pigsty, and in the end, finding nothing.

There was even a fat-headed, big-eared, bloated man dressed in women’s clothing who reported to Prinshitt that two fierce-looking, burly men who didn’t look like locals were plotting some conspiracy, suspecting they had designs on him.

When Ileil rushed over to see—it was Gro and Kaze exchanging information.

That guy Gro even gloated and waved hello to Ileil.

Could only say that eccentrics abounded in Renn Town.

Time came to the evening of the seventh day.

“Another day of busywork for nothing…”

After a day of busyness, Ileil heard Prinshitt complaining softly in the study.

Through the half-closed door, she saw the princess lying on the table like an ordinary girl, her cheek against the open investigation log.

Dorias was combing her disheveled long hair, his movements as gentle as grooming an obedient kitten.

“Patience is a hunter’s virtue, Your Highness.”

“But I haven’t even caught a whiff of the prey,” Prinshitt said闷闷ly, her fingers twirling a strand of hair.

…

Their relationship is really good.

Ileil looked at the two who were like father and daughter, a faint bitterness rising in her throat.

Sometimes, she envied that Prinshitt had such a warm presence by her side.

The setting sun shone on Ileil through the corridor window, casting a lonely long shadow.

From the study came the clink of porcelain lightly touching; Prinshitt said something unknown, causing Dorias to let out a low chuckle.

Ileil unconsciously gripped her sword hilt tightly, the leather strap making a faint creak in her palm.

Pathetically, what could give her a sense of security—perhaps only this weapon that could be drawn at any time.

At this moment, she suddenly realized how ridiculous her current posture was—her tense shoulders against the cold stone wall, her neck craned forward like a wild dog craving warmth, peeking through the window at someone else’s warmth.

That firelight was clearly within reach, yet stingy with even a trace of warmth.

…

“What are you thinking about so deeply? This isn’t like the you who’s always on alert.”

When Gro’s voice came from behind, Ileil almost reflexively drew her sword.

Today, he unusually wasn’t wearing that signature black leather armor, changed into an ordinary merchant’s outfit, looking like an ordinary traveler passing through Renn Town.

“What are you here for?” Ileil stared warily at the suddenly appearing Gro, saying irritably.

“Of course, to exchange information with Her Highness the Princess… and by the way, bring you something.” Gro smiled, taking out an oil paper package from his bosom and tossing it to Ileil.

“Freshly baked honey cake; tastes pretty good.”