Renn Town, tavern.
“Whew—another year of fruitless labor.”
A woman clad in light chainmail, draped in a woolen cloak, with a beret atop her head, sighed like this.
She took a sip of the fruit wine at hand and spread out the parchment beside her: it was a map, but densely covered with various different markings.
“I still haven’t found you. So how am I supposed to explain this to Mother and Father?”
She muttered to herself while adding a cross to a spot on the map.
“…”
The tavern owner, a halfling with a thick beard, heard the woman’s murmurs.
He sat down across from her and struck up a conversation with the dejected woman.
“Miss Ilis… sorry. I’ve already done my best to use all my connections to help you find the person.”
“Apologies aren’t worth much. If you really want to comfort me, refund some money, sir.”
The woman named Ilis lay face down on the table like a stranded salted fish, responding without holding back.
“…A refund isn’t possible. But I can treat you to a few drinks.”
The halfling sighed, signaled to the waiter behind him, and then spoke earnestly.
“I really have tried my best. Not just in Renn Town, I’ve sent people to ask in the neighboring villages and towns, even those near the main city. No one has heard of this person at all.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it.”
Ilis replied perfunctorily, downing a big gulp from her cup.
“According to your description—your brother should be around nineteen years old now, a young man with gray hair, right? But forget hearing your brother’s name; we haven’t even seen a young man with white hair.”
“…”
Ilis fell silent.
The tavern owner looked at the woman in such a dejected state and continued.
“Since you’ve paid, I don’t mind telling you a story.”
“A story?” Ilis paused, then waved her hand. “Go ahead; I never turn down an interesting tale.”
“I once had a son who, from childhood to adulthood, was always fixated on swinging swords and spears, the kind you couldn’t persuade no matter what.”
“Young people are always easily stirred by all sorts of emotions. When Aressto’s newspapers were plastered with propaganda about the crimes of the northern barbarians of Kastit, my rebellious son from a young age finally couldn’t sit still.”
“He left Renn Town behind my wife’s back and joined Aressto’s conscription. At first, in the months after he officially enlisted, he would occasionally send letters back, boastfully writing: ‘I’m doing great; the old softie can just wait for my triumphant return.’…”
Ilis lifted her head; the sorrow gradually appearing on the halfling’s face was not fake.
She asked, “And then?”
“Then? As a bard yourself, you can probably guess the ending.” He sighed, trying hard to stay calm as he said, “From the time he stopped sending letters home for half a year, I vaguely realized something had happened to him. I searched for him for over ten years through various means—finally finding the fake name he used for enlisting on an inconspicuous missing persons list.”
“My condolences, sir.”
Ilis said faintly.
Faced with someone who had fallen into the same predicament as her, Ilis knew that no words would help.
“I know what you’re trying to say, sir. But I’m a big idiot. Just like my brother, a stubborn fool who never knows when to turn back.”
Ilis unceremoniously took the wine brought by the server and downed it in one go.
“I believe he’s still alive. For that, I’m willing to spend ten years, twenty years, even a lifetime searching for him—”
At this point, the woman’s voice choked up, crystal tears uncontrollably spilling from her eyes.
“Even if in the end I only hear news of Ileil’s death… I still want to bring back what he left behind to our hometown.”
“…I admire your determination, Miss Ilis.”
The tavern owner looked at Ilis’s reddened eyes and sincerely voiced his thoughts.
“I heard you’re leaving in a few days; where do you plan to go next?”
Ilis wiped away her tears and said firmly, “Next… it’s time to head back to Aressto’s main city. Maybe there’ll be new information about Ileil.”
“It’s not very peaceful around Renn Town lately; why not wait a bit longer? Her Highness the Princess has personally come to Renn Town recently; maybe I can ask for the princess’s help…”
“No need, sir.” Ilis stood up and said faintly, “My brother’s matter doesn’t need to trouble someone from Aressto—they never care about the lives of small people like us.”
The halfling looked at Ilis with a complex expression and finally decided not to say more.
“Alright. Safe travels, Miss Ilis.”
…….
Ileil subconsciously caught the oil paper package Gro tossed over; the aroma of butter mixed with honey wafted into her nostrils.
She looked down at the warm pastry in her hand, momentarily dazed—this was her favorite food from childhood.
“……” She looked up at Gro, her eyes suspicious. “Why bring me something? What do you want me to do for you?”
Gro shrugged and said helplessly, “That hurts, kid. If you say that again, I won’t bring you any more.”
“Whatever.”
Ileil snorted coldly but still tore open the paper and took a bite.
The soft cake melted on her tongue; the sweetness of honey reminded her of the gingerbread her mother used to bake in childhood.
“…….It’s alright.” She lowered her eyes and muttered softly.
“Right? I told you my taste isn’t bad.”
Gro’s lips curved up slightly, seeming very satisfied with the expression on Ileil’s face.
“Envious that the princess has such a saint accompanying her? But it’s normal for young people to be sentimental; I almost forgot, you’re just barely an adult… Though according to Kastit’s traditions, boys are considered men at sixteen.”
“Don’t presume to guess my thoughts.” Ileil swallowed the last piece of cake, turned her head away, and said in a low voice.
“Am I wrong? Or should I not call you kid anymore and switch to miss?”
Gro’s words made Ileil’s expression freeze for a moment.
But she quickly adjusted, her tone cold and distant.
“If you’re just here to spout nonsense, you can leave now.”
“Ouch, such a bad temper.” Gro spread his hands, still wearing that punchable smile on his face. “But anyway, I’m not here to chit-chat.”
He retracted his smile and continued, “There are some interesting rumors outside lately; I think Her Highness the Princess might be interested.”
Ileil frowned. “What rumors?”
Gro didn’t answer directly but nodded toward the study. “This is ‘important information’; mind if I go in and talk? You’re Her Highness the Princess’s guard now, and as an outsider, I need your approval to meet with Her Highness.”
But before Ileil could respond, the study door was pushed open.
“Mr. Gro, is there something?” Prinshitt asked.
The princess stood at the door, her golden hair retied, a calm expression on her face.
Dorias stood behind her; his originally gentle gaze sharpened upon seeing Gro appear.
Prinshitt’s eyes fell on the oil paper package in Ileil’s hand, a flash of curiosity in them. “What were you talking about?”
“Nothing, just brought the kid something to eat.” Gro bowed in a somewhat formal salute, toning down the casualness from his conversation with Ileil. “I have some unusual news on my side; it might be very helpful for Your Highness’s investigation.”
Prinshitt stepped aside. “Then come in and explain in detail, Mr. Gro.”
Ileil wanted to leave but was pulled back by Gro. “You listen too.”