Compared to his usual talkative self, Barton Wolf was unusually quiet today, making Fuyu Sagara feel uneasy.
He never took a break from his work, but he kept twisting his neck and seemed lost in thought.
The roses Barton had brought a few days ago were initially in a slightly bloomed state, but now their petals had fully opened, radiating a fresh, vibrant pink color. They also had a strong and refreshing fragrance.
As much as she wanted to thank him for the flowers, Fuyu still couldn’t find the right opportunity to start a conversation.
She had planned to respond to Barton’s words today and naturally strike up a conversation, but he had unexpectedly grown silent.
(Why isn’t he talking as usual? Just yesterday, he was babbling unnecessarily….I can’t say thank you like this.)
Fuyu’s temples twitched with frustration, but Barton remained oblivious, completely unaware of her inner troubles.
(Should I try approaching him first…? But what should I say? I-I have no idea…)
The former hero was somewhat socially awkward. Devoting her childhood to the training of martial arts, she had little interaction with her peers, resulting in a lack of substantial conversational experience.
(Phew, if things continue like this, I won’t get anywhere…)
Fuyu, on the verge of giving up, finally saw Barton approaching the vicinity, having finished mopping.
“I have completed the cleaning. I will be back during dinner time. Is there anything you need?” Barton repeated the same question as if it had become a natural habit of his.
Fuyu saw this as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and mustered her courage.
“N-nya…”
Silence dominated the underground special cell.
Under the curious gaze of Barton, Fuyu blushed from her ears down and turned away.
(I underestimated this… After not speaking for a year, I couldn’t articulate myself properly and ended up giving a cat-like response. I just wanted to say “no”… Was it a mistake to try and answer in Britannian to appear cool?)
However, whether aware of Fuyu’s embarrassment or not, Barton brushed it off as if nothing had happened.
“I see. Well, see you later.”
Since Fuyu was looking away, she missed the sight of Barton’s delighted smile.
Upon hearing the sound of the door closing, Fuyu relaxed her shoulders, but her face still remained flushed.
“Ah… ah…”
And unlike usual, voices other than Barton’s echoed in the underground cell. It was Fuyu’s vocal practice, determined to do better next time.
♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢♢
The voice of the revered hero was much cuter than I had imagined.
Even while doing the depressing job of a prison guard, just recalling that voice brings me a sense of happiness. It’s strange.
It’s astonishing how a single word, “nya,” as a response, can have such an impact.
But then again, “nya”… it can’t be some kind of celestial language, can it? I have never come across such a word before. I’m certain it was just a simple slip of the tongue.
It even made her neck turn bright red…
During the afternoon rounds, I had to be careful not to let laughter well up inside me.
Yet, this feeling could only persist until I reached the cell where Prisoner Number 106 was currently held.
Labos, also known as Prisoner 106, was assigned to the laborious task of removing sediment from the Temlis River, leaving his cell empty.
Since then, I have pondered various possibilities, and it occurred to me that the woman named Marian might be under Labos’s control, exploiting her vulnerabilities.
For instance, he may be threatening to expose their past together to her current lover or something like that.
Being a prisoner, Labos cannot leave the prison grounds, but if he requested for a prison guard, such as me, to deliver a letter in his stead, that would suffice.
Perhaps Marian came to the meeting out of fear in that case.
If so, I felt somewhat responsible as well, having been enticed by the offer of gil coins and taking on the role of the messenger.
Since it’s not in my nature to dwell on troubles, I decided to clarify the situation with Marian. If she is being threatened by Labos, I am willing to lend a hand. Conveniently enough, today is my shift for the night patrol.
The guard on patrol duties receives a break from the fourth hour of the evening (around 3 p.m.) until the fourth hour of the night (around 9 p.m.). And although I must return before the first hour of the night (around 6 p.m.) to serve dinner to the hero, the distance to Sankche Street is easily manageable within that time frame.
Having learned from the previous incident, I changed out of the prison guard uniform into civilian clothes to blend in and avoid drawing attention.
For precautionary measures, I made sure to carry a sword with me as well.
In recent times, I have resumed practicing swordsmanship after several years of pause. I heard that occasionally there were prisoners causing disruptions or even small-scale riots within the prison.
As part of my duty as a guard, it seemed fitting to sharpen my skills a bit.
Since it was a route I had already traversed once before, I had no trouble finding my way to Marian’s residence.
The main street was overflowing with people returning from work, making it extremely crowded.
Amidst the hustle and bustle, I caught sight of Marian walking towards me and quickly hid myself in the shadow of a building.
I instinctively hid myself because Marian was accompanied by a man, and what’s more, I recognized his face.
Although I couldn’t recall his name, I remembered him as a prisoner who had spent two weeks in Alban Prison as an awaiting trial inmate.
If I recall correctly, he had been arrested on suspicion of theft, but due to insufficient evidence, he should have been released.
Could he be Marian’s lover?
The two of them were dressed rather fairly well for commoners, and eventually, they entered a slightly upscale-looking restaurant.
It seemed like they were leading a decent life, but Marian was nothing more than a maid.
She shouldn’t have the means to afford dining out in a place like this.
Could it be that the man was wealthy?
Since I wouldn’t learn anything by just keeping watch, I decided to return to Alban Prison and investigate the man’s file.
Even though he was an unconvicted prisoner at Alban, there should be records of him.
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