IHHLU Chapter 39

This was a hunt.

 

The hands of a finely crafted clock moved, casting shadows over the antique surface.

 

Click.

 

Harrison swiftly moved a chess piece, then pressed the metal button atop a clock that resembled two small clocks fused into one.

 

“No. That spot is exposed, Harrison.”

 

A black rook slid across the chessboard before coming to a firm stop.

 

Harrison’s eyes darted over the board, a flicker of unease passing through them.

 

Click.

 

Siegfried, meeting Harrison’s gaze with quiet confidence, pressed his clock’s button with practiced ease.

 

As his time stilled, the hands on Harrison’s side resumed their relentless march, and the moment Harrison made his next move, the black knight leaped forward, blocking his path—as if it had been lying in wait all along.

 

Click.

 

His movements were precise, methodical, as though he had foreseen this outcome.

 

Click.

 

And Harrison, too absorbed in the board to notice the quickening tick of his clock, found himself halted by a lone queen—boldly standing in the heart of enemy territory.

 

Click. Click.

 

The metallic sound of the clock buttons being repeatedly pressed reverberated in the silence.

 

“Check.”

 

A low, haughty voice settled into the stillness.

 

He was ruthless, his intricate maneuvers unraveling Harrison’s focus.

 

It wasn’t long before the inevitable “Checkmate” followed.

 

“Are you letting me win just because I’m your superior?”

 

Again. At those words, Harrison bowed his head in humiliation and returned the pieces to their original positions.

 

“This is as dull as the game itself.”

 

Harrison quickly regained his composure and collected his emotions.

 

The white chess pieces, standing tall under his chin with an overwhelming presence, displayed such exquisite craftsmanship that each piece seemed like a work of art.

 

His troubled expression reflected on the gleaming chessboard.

 

The two resumed their game, and their pawns, as if greeting each other, stepped out from their respective sides.

 

The firm clicking of the clock buttons echoed over  and over again.

 

Harrison’s hand moved toward the jewel-encrusted white knight, but hesitation crept into his fingers as they hovered above the piece before pulling away.

 

In the end, Siegfreed lost interest in Harrison’s chess skills.

 

“Considering you were the top of your class and the Empire’s chess champion, I thought it would make this interesting. If I had known, I would have chosen someone else instead of a greenhorn fresh out of the academy.”

 

Harrison stared at the white pieces scattered across the cold chessboard. Every first move had been his. Yet he had never won. He had never even come close to a draw.

 

This was a hunt. A ruthless one.

 

Siegfried borrowed his aide’s pocket watch to check how much time had passed, only to grow even more disappointed. As Harrison took the watch back, he was quite bewildered.

 

The Duke was a man who never seemed bound by time, yet here he was, studying a watch intently. Harrison had never seen him do such a thing before.

 

Seated like a monarch on his throne, Siegfried looked no different than usual, but he could sense a subtle impatience in the man.

 

Then, surprisingly, Siegfried took out a cigar; his past efforts to rid himself of its acrid scent, all because his wife disliked it, now seemed meaningless as he placed the cigar’s tip in his mouth while being inside the house.

 

“If I’ve done something wrong, I will correct it.”

 

Rising from his seat, Harrison gave Siegfried a small bow. If he had made a mistake, he would fix it. If Milena’s absence was what had put the Duke in a foul mood, then all he had to do was find her and drag her back here.

 

For a long while, there was only silence. The absence of a response made Harrison stand tensely in place. He had never let Siegfried Roam down before, not once, and that fact only heightened his unease.

 

“…She wasn’t there.”

 

It was only after a long pause that Siegfried’s voice came through, and Harrison lifted his head with a puzzled expression.

 

Thick smoke partially veiled the man’s face, yet he spoke as if the acrid scent didn’t bother him in the slightest.

 

“My wife,” he continued, exhaling a slow stream of smoke.

 

“…….”

 

“She wasn’t here when I returned to the mansion.”

 

Milena leaving the mansion was something Siegfried already knew. The report about her little escapade had been delivered to him at the imperial palace, after all. But she still wasn’t back.

 

Seeing the look in his eyes, Harrison quickly found an ashtray and respectfully held it out to him with both hands. Siegfried, wearing the expression of a man who had already lost interest in smoking, pressed the glowing red tip into the ashtray.

 

Harrison quickly disposed of the half-burnt cigar as Siegfried ran a hand over his weary face.

 

“She’s gone.”

 

“Within an hour, we will fi—“

 

“Just how much more do you want her to resent me?” he cut in, his voice laced with quiet fury.

 

“Your Excellency.”

 

Siegfried’s gaze swept over the chessboard he had completely dominated. The black pieces, crafted with exquisite detail and adorned with precious gems, were beautiful yet eerily unsettling. Everything on that miniature battlefield reflected the same chilling cruelty as his expressionless face.

 

“…Just find out if she went out to meet someone.”

 

His voice was soft, but the emotions rippling beneath it were stronger than ever, making Harrison cautiously glance at his face.

 

“If Milena has a man she needed to meet so badly that she ran away from Roam, I should at least know his name.”

 

His eyes, for once, as he leaned back in his chair, seemed completely devoid of reason.

****

 

“I already told you; there’s no need to worry.”

 

The number of people in black uniforms on the streets gradually increased. They dominated the roads with an overwhelming presence, taking control of every corner. Yet, Franz moved forward without a hint of concern.

 

“You probably don’t know because you haven’t been through busy streets like this before, but Roam controls every road in the Empire, big or small. It only feels ominous because you’re overly conscious of it.”

 

There was a trace of exasperation in his gaze as he spoke.

 

No, that’s not it…; I thought about explaining but decided against it.

 

If the time ever came for me to leave Roam, I would have to walk these streets again anyway. So rather than wasting time on pointless worry, I focused on memorizing the roads.

 

Franz walked ahead, hands tucked into his pockets, his expression utterly unconcerned. And somehow, that indifference was reassuring.

 

If he was this calm, then what was there for me to worry about? Maybe he was right, and I was the one making a fuss over nothing.

 

Just then, he pulled something from his coat and flicked it toward me. I quickly reached out from beneath my long hood and caught it—it was a small potion.

 

“We’re almost there. Drink it if you want.”

 

When I stopped walking and simply stared at him, his deep blue eyes met mine, and he added,

 

“It’s the same one I drank earlier.”

 

I turned the small bottle over in my hands a few times before handing it back to him.

 

His brows furrowed as if to ask: Why?

 

“I don’t need it.”

 

“Like that hairy guy said earlier, the Artist’s Square is packed with people,” he insisted, his voice firm. “I know you absolutely hate anything bitter, but—“

 

“That’s not it,” I cut him off.

 

A heavy silence settled between us. I could easily picture the expression on Franz’s face as he looked at me, but I kept my gaze fixed forward and continued walking.

 

“…It’s just.”

 

I remembered how the potion had darkened his golden hair and deepened the blue of his eyes.

 

I pictured myself with black hair and blue eyes.

 

And with that image came another—A woman with long navy-blue hair and eyes bluer than the sky.

 

Diana Kaiser.

 

“…Forget it.”

 

The thought of appearing before Ershayne looking exactly like Diana felt, in some ways, like a deception. I didn’t want that.

 

At that moment, a pleasant scent wafted into my nose, making me instinctively turn my head. My gaze landed on a quaint little shop nestled among the neatly arranged storefronts.

 

And just like someone who spots something appealing on their way home after a long day, I couldn’t look away.

 

Eventually, Franz cursed under his breath, grabbed my arm, and forcefully pulled me along.

 

“Since when did you start liking street food? You used to say you hated it because commoners use cheap butter.”

 

I looked at him with eyes full of longing, but that bastard didn’t even glance back. And maybe it was because we had been walking for so long and was getting so hungry, but the scent in the air only grew more tempting,  filling my nose.

 

“It’s called Mont Blanc. To eat that, you’d have to wait at least three hours.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

“I used to buy it often when I attended the Academy. …It’s delicious.”

 

It must be true; Just the smell made it seem absolutely delectable.

 

Franz, perhaps not accustomed to such conversations with Milena, absentmindedly played with his hair under his hood.

 

“We need to move quickly now. And we mustn’t reveal our identities, so we’ll eat later.”

 

“……”

 

“…I’ll personally take you there.”

 

His words made my heart flutter for some reason as he released my arm and strode ahead. I quickened my pace and lightly tapped his arm.

 

“Thank you.”

 

He grumbled in response, saying my days were numbered, but he didn’t really seem to dislike it.

 

Then, something truly surprising happened. He slowed his pace slightly and matched his steps with mine. Aware of this, I alternated my gaze between the ground and his face several times before he finally spoke again,

 

“…We’re almost there.”

 

Were we really close? Could I truly meet Ershayne here? I said inwardly.

 

The sun was beginning to set; the fading light bathing the neatly arranged rectangular tiles.

 

God, how long had we been walking?

 

“Milena,” Franz called and I looked up at him.

 

He gestured with his chin toward the gorgeous view before us.

 

“Looks like we’ve arrived.”

 

At his words, I turned my head to look ahead only to stand there, dumbfounded.

 

The sky, painting the perfect backdrop for the beautiful land, was ablaze with the colors of the sunset. The clash between the orange and blue was so fierce that where they met, a rich purple hue formed. Even the clouds seemed to be evenly soaked in those colors.

 

Before me stretched the endless stone-paved street, lined with buildings that radiated classical beauty.

 

It was all too much to take in.

 

It felt like something deep inside me—a string in my heart—was being plucked, sending a vibrating sensation throughout my entire body.

 

My gaze wandered busily in every direction. In the wide open plaza, artists, full of inspiration and eager to showcase their art, hung their paintings on easels, all of them bathing in the warm orange glow.

 

Even the air itself seemed to be filled with romance.

 

“Wow,” a gasp escaped me involuntarily.

 

In some ways, it was a completely still scene, yet it felt full of energy.

 

“This is the Artist’s Square.”

 

I could tell, without Franz having to say it, how this place got its name.

 

“What do you want to do?”

 

“Find someone…” I murmured, still gazing at the people who were writhing, consumed by passion. “I need to find someone.”