AWLITEB Chapter 27

Isabella ran her fingers across her face, dazed.

White cream came away in clumps.

Genos didn't hesitate when he arrived—he grabbed the boy standing across from her by the scruff of his neck and hurled him into the room.

"Ugh!"

The boy groaned in pain.

Though he was two hand-spans shorter than Genos, trembling with fear, his eyes held nothing but venom as he glared at both Genos and Isabella.

"Unbelievable. I truly can't believe this."

Genos muttered, then examined Isabella's face.

"Are you hurt anywhere?"

Isabella shook her head, wiping cream from her eyelids with her hand.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

Genos brushed away the remaining cream from her face with his gloved hand, then pushed her out the door.

"Go wash."

"W-wait a moment!"

Afraid of what Genos might do to the boy, Isabella grabbed desperately at the door handle.

But Genos pried her fingers away and shut the door.

Then he slid the latch into place, making it impossible for her to open.

"Wait, Your Grace! Your Grace!"

Isabella pounded urgently on the door, but Genos didn't answer.

"He wouldn't kill him, would he? Surely not."

Isabella pressed her ear against the door and muttered to herself.

Genos didn't bat an eye at the deaths of drunks or murderers, didn't hesitate to grind their bone dust beneath his boot. Yet when quieting young children, he told them sweet stories about baby-delivering storks.

So he wasn't the type to take a boy's life without asking questions first. She wanted to believe that, at least.

While Isabella hoped desperately, Genos stood beyond the door, silently looking down at the boy sprawled on the floor.

"I, I've, I've always, wanted to, to meet, one of you, you imperial, bastards. To, to see those, thick, thick faces, of yours."

"..."

"To, to see, with my, my own eyes, just how, how magnificent, you, you people are! You filthy, filthy scum! Selling, selling your people for, for power! Even, even filthier than, than those who, who sell their bodies!"

The boy screamed hoarsely.

Too terrified to speak properly, yet forcing the words out stubbornly.

Genos sighed and placed both hands on his hips.

"Is that right? And the very first thing you did upon meeting such filthy imperials was throw cake at a woman's face and dirty it? Like a coward?"

The boy flinched. For the first time, he avoided Genos's gaze.

"Th-that..."

"I can tell you're one of those who think imperials ruined your life, but in that case, you should have attacked me. Shouldn't you?"

"..."

"All you managed to work up the courage for was throwing cake at my fiancée? Pathetic and cowardly bastard."

"N-no! I, I just, just wanted to, to attack anyone! I, I'm not, not a coward!"

Genos grimaced at the boy's shrieking.

He was considering how to deal with this fearless brat when the boy, having nothing left to lose, shouted without thinking.

"Th-the, the cowards, are you, you two!"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I, I don't know, what you, you were afraid of, but you, you were, were playing, fake, fake husband and wife!"

At the boy's words, a cold wind swept across Genos's expression.

He bent down and grabbed the boy's collar with one hand, yanking him forward.

In an instant, the boy found himself nose-to-nose with Genos, his eyes wide as saucers.

Genos stared directly into those fear-soaked eyes, then clicked his tongue and spoke.

"So there was a real mouse hiding in that mouse-sized playroom yesterday. Were you in the wardrobe? Hoping to steal something worth overhearing?"

The boy's face showed a flicker of shock.

Still gripping the boy's collar, Genos walked to the bed and threw him onto it.

"Two fingers would be more than generous punishment, wouldn't it?"

Genos drew the dagger from his waist with a sharp swish and pinned the boy's wrist firmly against the bed.

"Ahhh! Ah, wait! Ahh!"

The boy screamed and thrashed in terror.

But Genos didn't blink.

No—he smiled as if enjoying himself, dragging the dagger across the bedsheet right beside the boy's fingers.

The fabric tore slowly, but surely.

"W-wait, please, please, forgive me!"

The boy wailed, trembling.

Gone was the bravado that had let him smash cake into Isabella's face—now he was just a child, sniffling pathetically.

"Forgiveness?"

"P-please, please, forgive, forgive me."

"Forgiveness for the absurd act of daring to lay hands on my fiancée's face?"

"M-my father, he, he joined the, the knight recruitment for, for northern border defense."

The boy explained frantically, his voice shaking.

"But, but he, he died in, in battle without, without any compensation. No matter, no matter how much I, I tried to explain, explain how unfair it was, no one, no one listened."

"So you wanted revenge on the imperial family?"

"..."

"By smashing cake into a woman's face?"

The boy buried his face in the sheets and sobbed.

"If you were truly that enraged, you shouldn't have let this moment slip by—when my guard was down because you're in an orphanage! You should have lunged at me the second that door opened! With a knife or broken glass, anything sharp!"

"Ahhhhh!"

Genos's roar from behind the boy's head made him even more terrified.

The boy struggled to escape Genos's grip, but it was futile.

"Grit your teeth and bear it. I despise noisy screaming."

"Ahh! No, no! Let me live. Let me live! I don't want to die!"

"You won't die. You'll just bleed quite a bit. If you can't handle screaming, would you like to bite down on a pillow?"

"P-please, please, for-forgive me! Please! Ahhh! Let me live! Let me live!"

Just as the boy's screaming reached its peak, the door burst open.

When Genos looked up, he saw the handle broken clean off. Isabella had used her strength ability to force the door open.

"Stop!"

Isabella shouted and threw herself between Genos and the boy.

"Stop! He's still just a child!"

Isabella pleaded, her face still smeared with cake cream.

"Yes. Because he's still a child, I'll stop at just two fingers. Move aside, Bella."

As Genos pressed the boy's hand down firmly and raised his blade, the boy thrashed and wailed.

Isabella frantically wrapped the boy's hand in her own body.

"I said no!"

"..."

"Stop it!"

"Really?"

"Yes, really! Stop!"

"I didn't expect the victim to be so adamant."

Genos muttered, then tossed the dagger away from the bed.

Clang—even at the sound of the blade, the boy flinched violently.

"No one will believe you if you babble about fake marriages or whatever else."

Genos said in a heavy voice.

The boy still had his face buried in the bed. He didn't have the courage to look at Genos.

"But you do know not to go around spouting that nonsense, don't you? Because if you do, losing two fingers will seem like child's play in comparison."

"I, I, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Your, Your Grace."

The boy apologized desperately, his pronunciation warped by his lips pressed into the blanket.

Genos sighed and lifted Isabella's body, setting her down beside the bed.

When Isabella grabbed his wrist in surprise, Genos said with a sigh, "I'm not going to do anything."

"...Really?"

"Yes."

Leaving Isabella behind him, Genos addressed the boy who was smearing tears and snot all over the blanket.

"The Empire provides ample compensation to knights who die defending the nation. If you received nothing, it probably means one of your relatives intercepted the money. Go to the knight order your father belonged to and check who's listed as the beneficiary. I'm sure you'll find some snake of a relative who put their own name down."

The boy lifted his head slightly.

Confusion filled his eyes.

"Now get out. Before I change my mind and decide I want your fingers back after all."

At Genos's words, the boy scrambled up hastily. But his legs had given out completely, so it took him quite a while just to get off the bed.

When the boy finally stumbled to the door, wavering with each step, Isabella asked:

"Do you want to be fully forgiven by His Grace?"

The boy turned to look at Isabella. After a moment's hesitation, he nodded.

Genos had no idea what she was plotting.

"Then you must come to the engagement banquet. Come, and there'll be something you can do for me."

"..."

"Understand? If you do this favor, we'll pretend today never happened."

The boy gave the barest nod, then forced his wobbly legs to carry him out of the room.

Once the boy was completely gone, Genos sat Isabella on the bed, pulled up a chair, and sat facing her.

"What was that?"

"I thought of a way to make this performance we're staging more effective."

"What?"

Genos understood Isabella's plan the moment he asked.

Incredible.

Genos let out a hollow laugh.

"I have some experience with public humiliation."

Isabella said matter-of-factly.

"Are you sure you'll be all right?"

"Of course. But, Your Grace—were you really going to cut off that boy's fingers?"

Isabella asked, her brow furrowed.

Genos laughed as if amazed.

"What do you think I am, your f*cking older brother?"

"..."

"He talked about us being a fake couple, so I just scared him enough that he'd never dare speak those words again."

Though the level of "scaring" was somewhat excessive.

Still, Isabella felt some relief knowing he hadn't truly intended to punish the boy.

"Of course, killing him would be the surest way to keep his mouth shut."

Genos added with a grimace, clicking his tongue.

Isabella felt exhausted by Genos's attitude, which swung between hot and cold like a pendulum.

"Anyway, I never imagined he'd be hiding in that wardrobe. I'll have to be more careful what I say. There's no such thing as a safe place."

"Right. Damn it, this is getting on my nerves."

The muscles in Genos's jaw bulged.

Isabella grabbed his arm and dragged him from the room, afraid he might actually change his mind and drag the boy back.

She paused before the broken door handle, then looked up at the Grand Duke.

"You're paying for this, right?"

The moment Isabella's head hit the pillow after returning to the mansion, she was dead to the world.

The aftereffects of riding for so long had caught up with her.

Genos stood in the doorway, watching Bella sleep like the dead, and smiled faintly. Then he quietly closed the door and left.

When Paile stepped forward with the key, Genos locked the bedroom door.

"Let no one enter, and don't leave your post."

"Yes, Your Grace."

The mansion's guard bowed and answered.

Genos walked down the long corridor with Paile.

It was the busy time when servants prepared meals and cleaned, but the moment they spotted Genos, they bowed and stepped back.

Genos left the main building and headed toward a warehouse quite far away.

The snow hadn't completely melted yet, and only the paths connecting the main building, annex, and courtyard had been cleared, so snow crunched steadily beneath Genos and Paile's feet as they walked toward the warehouse.

Paile opened the door to the shabby, cramped warehouse—a structure that didn't match the grandeur of the Grand Duke's estate at all.

It was a space filled with musty dampness, used to store useless junk.

They mostly used it to gather large, heavy trash that was hard to throw away or broken items, then disposed of everything in bulk at the end of each season.

The two men walked together toward the warehouse's worn wall.

Then Paile pulled several coat hooks attached to the wall in a predetermined sequence.

A hidden mechanism released, and the wall slid smoothly aside.

Hidden stairs leading underground were revealed.

Genos told Paile to wait, then created light from his fingertips to illuminate the path as he descended.

At the bottom of the stairs was a solid iron door. When he opened it, he saw a man bound to a chair.

"Ugh, ngh, ngh!"

The short, fat man who looked to be in his fifties widened his eyes the moment he saw Genos and thrashed.

A blood-soaked handkerchief was rolled up and stuffed in his mouth, making it impossible for him to speak properly.

His ankles were bound separately to the chair legs, and both wrists were tied behind the chair.

"If you promise not to scream, I'll give you a chance to speak. I already had to listen to some brat making noise this morning, so I'm fed up with loud voices."

Genos said, tapping his earlobe a few times.

The man nodded frantically.

Genos removed the handkerchief from the man's mouth with his leather-gloved hand.

The filthy handkerchief was crusted with dried blood.

"Stay here much longer and you'll die from infection, not torture."

Genos said, waving the dirty handkerchief before the man's eyes.

"I, I'm sorry. My, my lord, please, please spare me just once."

"Sorry?"

"Yes. I'm, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"If you're truly repentant, you'll need to provide better information than what you've given."

"I, I've told you ev-everything I know!"

The man burst into tears and cried out, but it only had the opposite effect.

When Genos tried to stuff the handkerchief back in to silence the unpleasant crying, the man's eyes suddenly lit up and he shouted urgently:

"The, the carriage, it was clean!"

"What?"

"Th-that day, when, when that woman came to, to propose I use a monster to commit murder, it was definitely raining. If that's true, the carriage wheels should have been dirty, but the carriage was too, too clean. Only a little mud on it."

The man spoke quickly, looking at the Grand Duke with pleading eyes.

Genos smiled pleasantly and placed one hand on his hip.

"She rented a carriage to hide her identity. Short travel distance means relatively clean wheels."

Pleasure filled Genos's voice.

The culprit's effort to hide their identity had inadvertently created a clue to finding them.

Genos shoved the dirty handkerchief back into the man's mouth without hesitation and left the warehouse.

The man cried miserably with his mouth blocked, but Genos had no time to worry about such things.

While Paile cleaned Genos's gloves with a clean silk handkerchief and closed the door, the Grand Duke said:

"Carriage rental offices, Paile."

Paile waited for the rest, looking at his master. Genos continued with a smile:

"Find the rental office closest to that bastard's residence."