Return of the General's Daughter
Chapter 112: The Culprit

Chapter 112: The Culprit

"I guess I’m immune to medicine," Alaric said, his tone light, as if defying nature was simply a minor inconvenience.

Lara shot him a sharp look but said nothing. Instead, she gripped the rope and hauled herself upward, muscles tightening as she scaled the wall with practiced ease.

Alaric frowned. That woman. She was too reckless.

He exhaled, shaking his head before following her ascent. His body protested—the wounds, though healing, were far from fully mended. But pain was irrelevant. He reached the rooftop just as Lara turned, her expression dark with reprimand.

"Alaric, are you trying to throw your life away?" she hissed. "I told you—you need rest to recover, but you never listen!"

Alaric raised a brow, unimpressed. "Keep talking, and soon, we’ll have soldiers crawling all over us."

Lara froze.

Damn it. When had she become so talkative? It had to be Reya and her master’s influence, making her forget herself.

Silence reclaimed them as they crawled across the sloped rooftop, their movements precise and measured. Lara’s keen eyes swept over the structure below until she pinpointed their target—the first window.

She reached for one of the slate tiles, carefully shifting it aside to reveal a glimpse of the room beneath. As she peered through the narrow gap, her breath hitched.

Then she gently shifted one of the slates to check what was below them.

She peeped and she froze.

Down there, it was a big study, and two people were kneeling in front of a big mahogany table. Behind the table, three people were standing, looking down on the two people.

Though Lara could not clearly see the faces of the two people, she was sure that the woman was the one who led the people in the morning. And the man, she could not remember him.

Alaric moved closer and peeped. Then he whispered in her ears. "That man was the one who disguised himself as an elder, but I suspect he was a commander by the way he carried himself.

"Why are they kneeling in front of the Mayor? So the Mayor is behind the propaganda of using children, the women and the old people to attack the Soldiers of Northem?"

Alaric did not answer. Lara considered his silence as an affirmative.

"Tomorrow, more people from the other villages will come and join the fight." Mayor Roder Fuerte paused and glared at Briella, "this is your only chance. You should not make any more mistakes. Try to rally the people against Northem. Let them feel the hatred of the people they are trying to protect and let the people be our shield." A smirk appeared on his lips.

"Bring them to the town center. I will meet up with them to rile them up."

Briella looked up at the pot-bellied man.

Was he their mayor? The so-called person who was to look after the welfare of the people? She used to look up at him, thought that he was a good person. When he stood at the ruins of the town center the other day, with tears streaming down his eyes, her heart ached for the town of Carles and a legacy lost.

But now looking at the man with a sinister look ...

She shuddered.

...

Meanwhile, at the base of the estate’s northern wall, two figures emerged from the shadows, moving like specters in the night.

Aramis and Angus had just arrived.

Aramis settled against the cold stone, his back pressing into the wall as he bent one knee toward his chest. His gaze drifted downward—almost absentmindedly—until his eyes landed on the very spot where Alaric and Lara had been tangled just moments ago.

A faint indentation in the grass. The disturbed foliage. The ghost of movement lingering in the air.

"Hey, Angus," he nudged his companion, voice laced with amusement. "Did you see what happened earlier?"

Angus barely spared him a glance. "What?" he grumbled, irritation creeping into his tone.

"You didn’t see what happened?" Aramis’ voice pitched slightly, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Angus stiffened. His response was quiet, but calculated. "Do not speak of things that should not be spoken."

Aramis smirked. "Whoa, buddy, lighten up. You’re always so serious."

Angus remained silent, but Aramis wasn’t done yet.

A slow, knowing grin spread across his lips. "Say... do you think Prince Alaric likes Kane?"

Silence.

No reaction.

Undeterred, Aramis pressed on. "I mean, at first, I thought he sent me to guard Kane just because of the message. But even now, I’m still on babysitting duty."

Angus sighed, rubbing his temples. "Are you drunk?"

"What?" Aramis was confused—an irrelevant question.

"You’ve been with Kane for only a few days, yet you’re already talking and acting like a different person."

Aramis ignored him, his voice dipping into a conspiratorial whisper. "Still... for someone so ruthless in battle, Kane looks pretty delicate, don’t you think? Slender, flawless skin, and—ouch!"

He grimaced in pain, instinctively clutching his side where Angus’ elbow had made harsh contact. The sharp jolt radiated through him, a burning reminder of the collision, as he felt the tender flesh beneath his fingers.

Aramis shot a fiery glare at Angus, his eyes narrowing with irritation as Angus jabbed him playfully in the ribs with an elbow, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"Follow them to the roof," Angus muttered. "I’ll guard here. My back’s still not healed."

Aramis let out a derisive laugh, his eyes widening with disbelief. "Absolutely not! You expect me to be the unwelcome third wheel up there with the two?" His tone was incredulous, as if the very idea was preposterous.

Angus remained silent, but the distinct spark of disinterest glimmering in his eyes spoke volumes. His unimpressed gaze communicated a clear dismissal, as if the world around him had faded into a dull blur, leaving only the weight of his skepticism hanging in the air.

"But going back, to Kane, I never saw Prince Alaric, pay attention to a person before. Unfortunately, it is Kane. If only Kane is a woman..."

"Enough!" Angus raised his voice, and Aramis stopped talking. Knowing Angus, he knew he had provoked him, so he became silent.

Angus was the most senior of all Alaric’s guards. He was also the most silent and the most loyal, and he would give up his life for Alaric without hesitation.

A still water that ran deep.