Roland was sitting at his desk dumbfounded. He had never expected that someone would dare to commit murder in his castle. If Nightingale had not found the assassins in time, they would have killed him.
Who had plotted the assassination attempt this time? Was it his third sister? Or the other siblings? Why were they so anxious? The Royal Decree on the Selection of Crown Prince would last for five years, and it was only a few months that had passed. Roland slammed the desk in growing agitation. [How outrageous! Can't they just let me get through the winter?]
Footsteps sounded from outside the door. Chief Knight Carter Lannis swung the door open and entered. "Your Highness, the identity of the bodies has been clarified. Seven of the eight corpses were former members of the patrol team, and one person's identity is still unknown. Of the two who're still alive, one is still unconscious after being healed by the witch, I mean, by Miss Pine. Another has been cast in a cell and is being cautiously guarded.
"Patrol team?" He knew that this team, trained by the former lord, was unreliable. Roland gnashed his teeth in vexation. Eight out of ten members were disloyal. It was truly the right decision to forbid these bastards from joining the Militia.
"Warn the guards to watch the one that's locked up in jail carefully. Don't let him poison himself like the last time!"
"The last time?"
"Umm, never mind." Roland shook his head. Nightingale had woken him up at midnight and his mind was a blur. "Anyway, I have to hear everything from his mouth. The chief plotter, the primary contact person, and the buyer, we need to find these people."
"Yes, Your Highness," Carter responded but did not depart at once. Instead, he got down on one knee. "It was my dereliction of duty that allowed the assassins to sneak into the castle. Please punish me, Your Highness."
"Enough. You were not in the castle at the time. This assassination attempt had nothing to do with you."
"Then..." Carter hesitated for a moment. "Would you tell me, Your Highness, who prevented this assassination attempt? From what I saw at the scene, they..." The knight gulped. "They seemed to have been killed by the same person, and they did not have even the slightest chance to fight back."
"You can decipher all that?" Roland's curiosity was aroused.
"If the two sides were well-matched in strength, the scene would not be so neat and clean, and there would have been all kinds of wounds on the assassinators' bodies," Carter said this in a low voice. "But all the assassinators were lying on the floor of the warehouse. There was not a single broken item. On the huge boxes where we store meat, there's not even a trace of sword cuts. This means that the person who prevented this assassination attempt was able to move swiftly in a limited space without using any coverage. In my humble opinion, Your Highness, this is incredulous."
"I see." Roland nodded. He understood what Carter meant. In theory, even the strongest man on earth would fall into a predicament, if he was surrounded by enemies. Real battles were not comparable to movies or shows where the hero would fight one after another. Attacks from blind spots were most fatal. That's why, in a one-to-many situation, the correct countermeasure was to utilize the surrounding environment, to face the enemies.
However, Nightingale was not ordinary.
"No matter how, you shall do what you have to do. I won't reveal this individual's identity yet. I'll acknowledge you when the time comes."
Even though, the chief knight was loyal, dependable, and was aware of the fact that Anna and Nana were both witches, Roland still decided to conceal the existence of Nightingale for now. Different from the other two witches, Nightingale was not affiliated with Roland's party. She stayed in Border Town only for Anna. She was a member of the Witch Cooperation Association and would leave the town someday eventually.
Carter left with apparent signs of disappointment on his face.
Roland could understand his thoughts. As a swordsman who had been working to enhance his swordsmanship through learning the doctrines of his predecessors, he had always viewed those doctrines as the axioms of swordsmanship. He would naturally doubt himself when seeing such a disbelieving scene. If someone's swordsmanship could be exquisite to that extent, of what heritage was he so proud of?
"I thought you would have sold me out." Nightingale revealed herself. She was still sitting in the corner of the desk with her legs crossed.
"I thought so too. Why don't you just live here? Work as my shadow guard and you'll receive two gold royals every month, double the amount of Anna's pay. Would you consider my offer?" Roland began. He pushed his enticement. "You'll have a garden house, two days off per week. Every year, you'll have paid leaves. Well, I mean, you'll still get your salary on vacations."
What surprised him was that this time Nightingale did not refuse immediately. She smiled and stated with firm determination. "I can't leave my sisters behind."
"Then tell them to all come to the town. Once winter has ended, Border Town will be comprehensively renovated. The town will be able to fit as many residents as you could imagine. Also, witches will be able to walk in the streets without discrimination. No one will consider you folks as the wicked."
"Well, inform me once you have accomplished this." Nightingale shrugged.
Alright, so solicitation needed to be presented with the actual product. Roland diverted the subject. "Nana has been safely escorted?"
"Uh-huh, she was quite frightened."
The prince sighed. It had been midnight when Nightingale woke him up. He nearly threw up after seeing the battle scene. She briefly accounted the things that had happened. Roland ordered her to get Nana secretly. The young girl who previously had only treated chickens almost fainted when she saw the soldier covered with blood.
In order not to disturb Nana's family, Nightingale had to escort Nana back home as well.
It was almost dawn when everything had finally been settled.
"What do you think about this incident? Would you be able to predict which of my dear brothers or sisters schemed this?"
Nightingale shook her head. "They were all the members of the patrol team. The only exception did not carry any identification documents. Anyone could have hired those assassins. But I believe perhaps this assassination attempt has nothing to do with your siblings."
"How come?"
"They were too careless. They went through internal conflicts for this one-time group mission. None of the assassins attempted suicide once the mission failed, leaving at least two of their members alive. Also at the time, they were not professional at all, almost like a street gang. That doesn't seem to be their usual behavior. It's more like a scheme plotted by amateurs. I believe even if I hadn't shown up, this assassination attempt wouldn't have had the slightest chance of success. Don't forget Anna was sleeping right downstairs."
Nightingale picked up Roland's cup, took a sip nonchalantly, and continued, "Anyway, your knight is heading to the cell for interrogation as we speak. I bet soon enough he'll find out the truth. Compared to the tactics that your sister plotted, this guy is so much more inferior. He even begged me not to kill him."
"As for the heavily injured patrol leader, I seem to remember calling him in before."
"Really?" Nightingale tilted her head. "I think you should sincerely applaud him. If he hadn't detained the other guys, I wouldn't have discovered those rats sneaking into the basement so quickly. I'm not sure why he did it, but an enemy's enemy is our friend, right?"
Right, Roland thought. However, his focus was not whether the patrol leader was a friend or a foe; it was the phrase that Nightingale had just used:
"Our" friend.
