TRFS 11

Chapter : 11

“Ah.”

With a soft exclamation, Cleora once again looked at Enoch and tilted her head slightly.

“Do you believe me now? That everything I said is true.”

Calling herself Cleora, and saying she could solve the lack of funds—
To the question encompassing it all, Enoch answered without a moment of hesitation, his voice firm.

“No.”

“…….”

“That’s not something I see happening.”

“Really? That’s a shame.”

Her words said she regretted it, but her expression showed nothing of the sort. Cleora smirked and curled her lips faintly.

“You’ll find out in time.”

Clack—

Opening the door, Cleora leaned halfway out and smiled.

“Don’t come crying later.”

Your Grace, the Duke.

Leaving behind a form of address packed full of thorns, the door closed.

Left in the suddenly quiet room, Enoch slowly sank into his chair, brows tightly furrowed.

He brushed back his neat fringe out of habit as his eyes followed the trace of Cleora’s departure.

“……Regret?”

Ridiculous. And yet, why?

“Perhaps I’ve finally gone insane.”

Because he had a strange feeling—
that he might actually regret it.

Walking back to her room, Cleora mulled over what would happen next.

“Hmm.”

So calling her a candidate and letting her stay here was nothing but a joke.

If he had believed—even half-heartedly—that she really was Cleora, she had planned to resolve their financial crisis.

Instead, he couldn’t believe her and essentially told her to leave.
Worse than expected. That meant he was suspicious of the source of her information.

“Back in my day, people weren’t this distrustful.”

Then again—
she’d trusted people, marched into war, and ended up ruined like this.
Trusting again would be idiotic. A normal person wouldn’t.

She understood, but it still left a bitter taste.

Whether she liked it or not, this was her House, and these people were her distant relatives, connected by blood.

And without them, House Eisenbold would have disappeared completely from history.

Ugh, my head.

Gripping her temples, Cleora stopped when she noticed a flicker of movement beside her.

“What the— mmph!”

Someone clapped a hand over her mouth and dragged her into a side alley.

Startled, Cleora instinctively tried to command her shadow—but before she could, a hissed whisper brushed her ear.

“It’s me! It’s me!”

The voice was familiar. Her panic eased as she lifted her head. Eyes gleamed in the darkness.

“……Mmph?”

They belonged to Adrian, the captain of the mercenary corps.

Why was she here?
No, more importantly, how did she get in?

Adrian had taken Cleora back yesterday and left afterward. How on earth was she inside the castle this late?

Sure, the family was weakened, but could a mere mercenary stroll in like it was her own home?

Cleora stared, dumbfounded, but Adrian—oblivious to the look—scanned their surroundings, then cautiously let Cleora stand.

“You hurt anywhere?”

“…How did you get in?”

“What do you mean how? The castle walls are full of holes big enough for a five-year-old to waltz through if they feel like it.”

“…….”

It kept getting better.
Her family estate truly surpassed all imagination.

What kind of ducal house had holes in its walls? She nearly scoffed before sighing—
Right. Because they had no money.

“Whether he believes me or not, I’ll have to deal with this mess first.”

She wasn’t opening the vault until he trusted her—or at least stopped doubting her.
But she also couldn’t allow the place to remain this vulnerable.

She needed a reasonable excuse to start fixing things.

“So. How did it go?”

“How did what go?”

“What do you think! You spouted all that nonsense right in front of that infamous Ice-and-Iron Duke!”

Who has a nasty personality again? Cleora tilted her head, and Adrian thumped her chest in frustration.

“You didn’t even know that and pulled a stunt like that? I swear you’ll be the death of me!”

“……”

“Listen up. That man is someone you don’t touch. You can ignore the name Eisenbold, but not the Duke of Eisenbold. Even if the House is in ruins, he’s not someone you can treat lightly. Even Duke Kurtzfel—who’s said to shoot birds out of the sky—takes a step back before him!”

“He’s that strong?”

“Of course!”

“Oh? That’s better than I thought.”

“…?”

Adrian’s intended warning only made Cleora look genuinely pleased.

Anyone who could hold their own against those detestable Kurtzfel bastards was good enough for her.

“So? What’s your real point? You didn’t come just to say that.”

“Tsk.”

Adrian clicked her tongue, swept her gaze around, and grabbed Cleora’s hand.

“We’re leaving.”

“Where?”

“Where do you think? You’ve got to escape! If you stay, you’ll soon be separated into bones and flesh, and I’m not sticking around to watch!”

“……”

“You impersonated the last true head of House Eisenbold! In front of someone who adored and respected him!”

“He respected… me?”

“There she goes saying weird stuff again. Anyway! That alone means forget insulting nobility—you practically provoked a monster. If you’re still alive, it’s only because he’s figuring out what’s the most painful way to kill you!”

She didn’t know where Adrian got her ideas, but one thing was clear:
Enoch had a frightening reputation.

“Come on. I’ll get you out.”

“And why would you do that?”

“Because I can’t just stand by and watch some clueless kid—especially a girl—die!”

“For someone like that, you seemed awfully excited to sell me out yesterday.”

“……”

“And you very clearly said it wasn’t your problem.”

Cleora’s narrowed eyes pinned her in place.

Adrian blinked like a fool, eyes darting, then blurted:

“D-Did I?”

“You did.”

“…Guess I was momentarily insane. Anyway! I’m someone who moves for the greater good! So just follow me quietly and everything will be—”

“It’s fine.”

Cleora’s calm voice cut into Adrian’s back as she turned to lead.

Adrian froze mid-step and slowly looked back.

“What?”

“I said it’s fine. I’m not going to die.”

Adrian blinked at her as if she were speaking gibberish. Cleora smiled lightly.

A smile that said she wasn’t explaining anything further.

Adrian sensed the situation had shifted—dramatically. Her mind raced.

How does that change the math?

For someone better suited to schemes than swordplay, gears spun quickly.

But no conclusion came. She only frowned harder before finally speaking.

“…You’re staying?”

“For now.”

“Then—don’t tell me you really are a direct heir of this House…”

“What, you didn’t think so?”

Cleora let out a dry laugh.

“Has the world been fooled this long? Everyone assumes everything I say is a lie.”

Her frustration was understandable, but with so many frauds claiming the Eisenbold name over the years, Adrian’s suspicion was normal.

Adrian stared, more rattled than Cleora—
then her eyes lit up.

A golden goose!

A few life-changing opportunities appear to a person, and Adrian was convinced this was hers. She straightened at once.

“My lady.”

“…My lady?”

“No—my Lady of the Bloodline.”

“……?”

“If you ever require my help, please call upon me. I, Adrian Lorraine—humble leader of a mere A-rank mercenary corps—will devote my body and soul to your command!”

Jingle jingle.
A moment ago she’d been talking down to Cleora—now she was practically groveling.

Cleora blinked, startled by the sudden shift—but it proved Adrian had good instincts.

Cleora studied her thoughtfully, wondering if this mercenary corps could be useful.

“Our base is far west, but if you ask it, my Lady, we will do—”

“You’ll do anything?”

“Yes! Absolutely.”

“Truly anything?”

“Yes! Truly anything!”

“You’re not lying?”

“Well… yes!”

A flicker of unease passed her face, but she quickly nodded, eyes shining with resolve.

Cleora looked briefly unimpressed—then slowly grinned.

“Perfect timing, then.
I’ve got just the job for you.”