Chapter 10

In three days, Viretta’s engagement ceremony was scheduled to take place.

The two people involved were the second daughter of the Medleridge Trading House of Phillion and the nephew of a noble family ruling the mercenary city of Najin. This engagement was meant to solidify a blood alliance between the trading house and the powerful mercenary group.

However, the two young people, having joined hands in their (nonexistent) pursuit of love (to avoid it altogether), had jeopardized this alliance with their escape. The disappearance of the bride and groom had caused a serious problem, as the engagement ceremony was quickly approaching.

While Monaine was on his fifth broken broom handle, chair, and pole, and Cadlen was sending out search parties to comb the city walls, the two instigators of the entire ordeal were leisurely basking in the morning sunshine.

"Did you sleep well? The morning sun is so refreshing," Viretta chirped.

"Yes, the sky is clear, and my heart beats with a mix of excitement and worry. What a day!" Iola responded earnestly.

"How poetic! They say the morning sun lifts your spirits," Viretta said, laughing as she stretched her arms toward the sky. Iola mimicked her, spreading his arms and enjoying the sunlight. It was a calm and warm moment.

The previous night, they had convinced a coachman that they weren’t thieves or criminals, securing a ride to another village.

Thanks to that, they had arrived in a large village far from the city by dawn.

Lanken, yawning, trudged alongside the two as they chatted energetically.

"Well, aren’t you two in a good mood..." he muttered.

"Yes! We are! After all, we’re finally going to meet the dragon! But why did we head northeast when the dragon’s lair is to the south?" Iola asked, puzzled.

Viretta proudly lifted her chin and replied confidently, "Don’t rush things! If we take the shortest route, Father’s search parties will catch up easily. We need to be smart about this. It’s not like we’re going to hunt the dragon tomorrow. We need to prepare thoroughly!"

"I see, I understand. I’ll follow your lead, Miss Viretta," Iola responded with quick acceptance.

Despite having many questions, Iola quickly accepted any answer Viretta gave, even if it wasn’t logical or practical.

Viretta, fortunately or unfortunately, was someone who could answer any question, even if the answer didn’t always make sense.

After enjoying the sunlight for a little while longer, Iola suddenly lowered his head, as if a thought had struck him.

"Ah, you should be sharing this joy of walking in the morning sun with the person you love," he sighed.

Lanken, who had been yawning lazily while leaning on the others, immediately choked on his own saliva, coughing violently.

Viretta quickly patted his chest, laughing to cover her own guilt.

"It’s alright! Once you’ve found your true love, you can share the sunrise together every day!"

"My heart feels heavy with guilt, as if I’ve pushed you down a difficult path when there was an easier one," Iola admitted, his expression solemn.

"I understand that feeling all too well," Viretta said, her own regrets bubbling up.

How could she not? The guilt she had thrust upon him was hitting her in real time, making her feel even more remorseful.

"I can’t believe you share such deep guilt, Miss Viretta. It’s probably because I haven’t been firm enough in rejecting this engagement," Iola said.

"No, that’s not it!"

Actually, Iola’s not so bad… Viretta almost blurted out, but caught herself just in time. She quickly changed the subject.

"Even if it weren’t you, I would have ended up engaged someday. And if it weren’t you, I would’ve had to go dragon hunting with just Lanken. So I’m glad you’re here with us," she said.

"It’s good to have more companions on the journey to hell, huh…" Lanken grumbled under his breath, unsettled by her insistence on "the three of us."

Surely she wasn’t serious about hunting a dragon with just the three of them… right? Lanken tried to suppress the growing unease as he muttered, only to be swiftly scolded by Viretta for his "weak talk."

Regardless, Iola seemed revitalized by Viretta’s words. With renewed determination, he pressed his lips together in a firm line and made a resolution.

"You’re right, of course. Meeting you has been the greatest fortune for me. Even if my father hunts me to the ends of the earth for bringing shame to the family, I will never forget the joy of this moment."

"I appreciate the sentiment, but if your life’s in danger, it’s okay to forget… You can always beg for forgiveness…" Viretta replied, exasperated.

Iola, with his hand solemnly over his heart, had the demeanor of a righteous man, filled with conviction and purity.

Viretta, already weighed down by guilt, cast her eyes downward, unable to meet his gaze.

"I didn’t mean it literally. I just wanted to express how happy I am. Truly, I feel so fortunate right now," Iola clarified, smiling brightly.

Viretta, noticing how genuine his happiness was, found herself blushing. It felt strangely comforting to have such a sincere and reliable person trust her so deeply.

Seeing her flustered expression, Iola, filled with zeal, grabbed her hand once again.

"I’m so glad! I’ll do my utmost to break off this engagement as soon as possible!" he declared with fervor.

And with that radiant, dazzling smile, Iola doused Viretta’s budding warmth with a bucket of cold water.

Indeed, he truly believed that Viretta was in love with someone else and was eager to free her from this unwanted engagement.

"Absolutely! Let’s break it off!" Iola vowed passionately.

Unable to refute such earnest enthusiasm, Viretta swallowed her tears and nodded in agreement.

"Yes, absolutely…"

The door to the general store creaked open as an eager customer stepped in, announcing their presence the moment they entered.

"Is anyone here? I’ve got some things to sell," Viretta said.

The storekeeper emerged from the back, greeting their first customer of the day.

"Hmm, what are you selling?" the shopkeeper asked.

"I’ve got some paintings and sculptures I’d like to part with."

Viretta presented the items, all of which were valuable and high-quality pieces. The shopkeeper inspected the paintings and sculptures, noting their impressive craftsmanship.

The shopkeeper sized up the situation—this customer was clearly a wealthy young lady. Her outfit, though simple in design, was made from expensive materials, and she wore mother-of-pearl buttons and a fashionable short cape popular in the capital.

Despite this, the young woman showed no signs of being intimidated by the dusty and cluttered general store. She exuded a cheerful and confident air, suggesting she wasn’t from an esteemed noble family but rather a wealthy merchant’s daughter.

"These are excellent pieces, well-maintained too. This painting in particular uses a lot of color," the shopkeeper noted.

"It’s by Melani of Calcarta," Viretta explained.

"Ah, yes, I can see the signature. It’s authentic. I can offer you 85 silver coins for all three pieces," the shopkeeper offered.

"That’s too low. They’re worth at least 120 silver," Viretta countered.

"The price might be fair if I had buyers ready, but paintings are tricky to sell quickly, especially if they need proper preservation. And Melani isn’t particularly popular around here."

"But you’ve also undervalued the sculpture," Viretta pointed out.

"Well, sculptures have similar issues. I can’t even tell what stone this is made of," the shopkeeper replied, feigning reluctance.

Though the shopkeeper was exaggerating, it wasn’t a lie. Melani’s works were only well-known among a few affluent collectors, and the material of the flower sculpture was indeed difficult to discern.

"I’m confident it’s made of a precious stone—whistone. It just hasn’t been refined properly yet," Viretta asserted.

"Whistone, you say? Well, looking closely, I can see that might be the case. Alright, I’ll add another 10 silver to the offer."

"Would you agree to buy them for 130 silver if you can sell them within a month?"

"Planning to buy them back?"

The shopkeeper began running numbers in their head, trying to figure out if 130 silver was too much of a risk. Before they could ask how Viretta was so sure, she lifted her cape slightly to reveal a small badge pinned inside. It bore the engraved symbols of a mountain, a wheel, and flames.

Every merchant knew what that meant. It was the emblem of the Medleridge Trading House.

This badge identified her as a member of the Medleridge family or one of the senior figures in the trading house.

The shopkeeper straightened up immediately, understanding that this customer was likely a relative of the Medleridges who needed cash urgently. It wasn’t uncommon for wealthy families to temporarily pawn valuable items and buy them back later.

"Of course, if the Medleridges are likely to repurchase them soon, I can certainly offer 130 silver. Let’s do that. How would you like your payment?"

"In a mix of gold and small coins, please," Viretta replied.

"How about 13 silver for each gold coin?" the shopkeeper offered.

"Exchange offices only offer 12 silver for a gold coin," Viretta countered smoothly.

Despite her warm demeanor, Viretta was sharp when it came to money.

The shopkeeper, realizing they had a keen customer on their hands, handled the coins carefully.

"True, but small coins like copper and silver are in short supply lately, so I’m offering you a better rate. No fee for the exchange either."

"Hmm, you’re right. Alright, I’ll accept your offer. After all, small coins are hard to come by these days."

After checking the coins carefully, Viretta began sorting them.

"Would you mind adding around fifteen Ginny silver coins to the mix?"

"Heading east, are you?"

Ginny silver wasn’t commonly used around the Medleridge estate. It was more frequently circulated in the borderlands, where three nations met and trade flourished.

The shopkeeper warned, "Be careful, though. Lately, that area’s been crawling with foreign mercenaries and bandits."