Chapter 8: Isolet

The exit took her way down in a spiraling motion until she looked up at the last stop. This time, four blocks were facing her. They were all moved forward than the rest. 

"Looks like a button." 

Ett glanced at the scroll to find clues on how to do it. Surely enough, the tiniest mark was on the upper side of the House of Isotel. They were numbered according to how you pushed them. 

"2, 1, 4, and 3." 

A heavy slide was soon heard before it opened from the other side. Clasping the scroll, Ett thought that after memorizing it, she'd burn it. But why didn't she even burn it? Unexpectedly, it ended in a forest, the air heavy with the smell of damp earth. 

"It is passable." 

If she should require an escapade, they would pursue her into this forest. 

"Ah, the sun." 

It had been so long since she had closed her eyes and felt the sun on her face. In the palace, the darkness seemed never to lift, as if vampire dwellers had been residing there. She was too exhausted to venture out of the palace, missing out on the radiant warmth a human should enjoy. 

Looking at the map, Ett headed south to the first street, where a few people came by. The closer she got, the more crowded the place seemed to be. Her eyes widened with awe as her five senses seemed to be invigorated, but there was no time to take it all in. Ett asked a blacksmith on the way after deliberating for some time. 

What the blacksmith told her was a shortcut to the House of Isotel. Ett arrived at the back of the building. The House of Isotel means House of Entertainment and Leisure for commoners and nobles. Two buildings were separated from each other, one for the common populace and one for the nobles. The highest and most prestigious, of course, is where the Nobles gather. 

Alright, this must be it. The entertainment where commoners gather and gossip when they are off of their shift. 

Opening the door, Ett tried to act as naturally as possible before going to the counter where the man had just finished serving a drink to the customer. 

"A child?" 

The man frowned, looking at her outfit," This is not a place for a child to play around." 

Ett said, "Do you, by chance, know the Etanda 45 street that serves Tari wine?" 

The man was silent momentarily, casually taking a bottle of liquor to wipe it. 

"Haven't heard of it." 

You don't believe me, old man?

"Then may the light in Adiand forgive me. I have misspoken." 

This time, the man looked at her with a long, lingering glance. 

"Adiand is forgiving. Besides its Adnate 54, Tari wine is rare unless you have the cap?" 

Ett brought out the wine cap that had her signature. 

"Good, let me show it to you. Please choose your flavor." 

Hmm, maybe I should have presented it first. Why is it that there should be stages in muttering keywords anyway?

In the first place, Ett should have passed the first keyword. But then this person looked at her uncertainly, so the second and third were used to confirm her identity and knowledge about this place. The third test may the light in Adiand forgive me. Most of the familiar people of Adiand know that it should be the light of Adiand, not light in Adiand was not usually used, but if it should be used, it's automatic for people to say the light of Adiand. However, the cap is for members, differing it from regular appointments. When they entered, another room was opened. 

Going deeper into a chamber full of books and wine, a faint light shows. Man, it really is the same with the underground black market in movies; even information guilds look like this. 

"The leader will arrive a bit later." 

"Alright." 

"Then I'll excuse myself." 

"Thank you." 

"My pleasure." 

With nothing much else to do, Ett just sat there, her eyes tracing the lines of the painting, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the wall was heard. 

"Sorry for the lateness!" 

"Oh."

Ett thought she would still take her time gazing at the painting that was placed on the other side but heard footsteps coming to where she was with the door opened, revealing a tall man in incognito. 

"Thank goodness, Mazi. It was good that you were quick enough to notice this lovely client lest she waits a few more hours. Did Lady Ecaton order you?" 

It must be Ett's alias whenever she goes out. 

"You got the same coat, although it seems to be…hmm, fixed smaller?" 

Ett glanced at the man. He just removed his hood, only to reveal the face of a young man in his 20s, cunning, cough, sunny man. 

"Yes, mistress can't come." 

"Huh, strange why did the lady order such a young child like you?" 

Ett was silent. 

"Ha." 

The young man opened his table drawer and gave her a thin stack of paper put together like a notebook. 

"This is what your Mistress needs. Tell her that the sum of the money is larger this time. The Ostenian's famous son killed one of my men." 

Famous son? I haven't read of him. 

Ett took out her pouch and gave it to him. "Is this enough?" 

The man's eyes glimmered, opening the pouch, "Oho! Far more than what's expected. Your Mistress is truly generous." 

"She has another favor." 

"Oh, no wonder. What is it?" 

"Continuing to watch whatever Ostenian Duchy has in mind and discovering more about the 2nd Commander of the Larak Empire. The last one would have a bigger sum if you could find him. The earlier, the better." 

"For a child, you know too much about what's happening from behind." 

"… It's for serving the mistress." 

"You're too loyal as a child." 

Ett paused. 

"I am my mistress's helper and no one else." 

The man smirked. The child was too witty and sharp for her age. Such great potential from a mysterious client that even he cannot find who it is. The more he delved further into who that woman was, it was always a dead end, and this child acted like the woman herself. 

"It seems your Mistress won't come much often, seeing there are three tasks she wants me to do. What's the third?" 

"It's finding the former Earl of Valharam." 

The man quickly gave her a hard stare. Earl of Valharam, if it was the Valharam that was wiped out with all the people inside it, then the Earl himself was dead. 

Can you find a dead man? Unless there's a possibility that he is alive from his client's point of interest. 

"The mistress had a lead." 

"Did your mistress does not tell you how this will lead to the country's political disarray?" 

Ett nodded. She didn't want to, but he had returned the old Ett to her standard form in the novel. It just wasn't explicitly described why she should find a dead man on paper. Was it a curse? But this isn't a fantasy genre… 

"The Earl of Valharam might appear on the outskirts of the western border of the Jushen Empire. To be specific, the Oran Valley, and he is wearing a green cloak with one on his hand remaining. He has a black dagger. There should be a burnt mark on his heel. Cough, cough. Excuse me."

Ett exhaled a breath, she really couldn't take too long.

"She doesn't know the exact day or year, maybe years to come, and the description may be vague, but Mistress just wants to tell you the man would appear. It's not a matter of necessity for you to do so if you cannot." 

This time Ett untied her hood seeing him eye to eye, "But Mistress said, if you do, then you can ask her one thing about anything, and she will answer you as long as she knows. If it's people, connection, and power, she'll do her utmost to assist you. Cough." 

 Finally.

The man smiled, "Indeed, it is a tempting offer. But, child, I am more curious. You look exactly like her." 

Ett, just like before, stayed silent. It's better to keep quiet, and it's not like the person in front of her is stubborn enough to play along with her. 

"Forgive my blatant opinion. Then," 

The man slumped down languidly. "Tell your Mistress the pay now just needs to add another 100,000 gold when you want them to know the two pieces of information. The last one, I'll think about the hints your Mistress gave me. After all, lives are more precious to gain more gold, no?" 

Ett stands up, "I'll tell the mistress, thank you for your time." 

"The information would be delivered like it used to be." 

Used to be? She doesn't know and can't rat out that the 'Mistress' didn't tell her.

"No, this time will be different. Either I'll visit or… you wait how it'll be delivered." 

The man nodded and ushered her to the door, giving her the 'wine.' 

"Oh, tell your mistress not to forget my name, Cashim." 

He added, chuckling as the door closed. 

"Strange." 

Ett mumbled. Were Ett and this man named Cashim have some strange, I mean close relationship, or it's only that guy's impression? There was no such thing in the novel. Had that man told him his nickname rather than the actual name that Ett knows? 

As she left the House of Isolet, Ett gazed in another direction. It was the place to get the vial. She will address the issue when she visits again. The vial isn't that empty. There's no rush. The agenda for today is now finished. The longer she lingers here, who knows what will happen when she returns? 

Cashim watched the little child trot towards the crowds, disappearing from his line of sight. If he looks past the color of the eyes and hair, that kid seems too much like his client, as if it was her own identical twin.

"Ya, the temperament is also the same. Sigh." 

"Did you find anything about Lady Ecaton?" 

 In a hidden corner, a man came out and bowed. 

"Forgive me, Sir. We always lose track the moment she enters the forest." 

"The cave?" 

"Yes, the cave." 

"That child was about to go somewhere, but she stopped, quite sensitive too." 

"Should we wait outside the cave?" 

Cashim shook his head. 

"We won't know when she'll come up again. Besides," 

His mind drifted to the last words the child said to him. He can ask her one question or even aid him once, even if it breaks the rules as long as she'll help her track down the Earl of Valharam. It even seems to be the most important of all, rather than the two tasks he was given. 

"Have some of your men stay in Oram Valley and its surrounding valleys starting tomorrow. You've heard what the Earl of Valharam will look like, right?" 

"Yes." 

"Good. We shouldn't let go of our client, who reeks a mysterious air of regal composure uncommon to other nobles. You may leave." 

"Understood." 

"Oh right, the banquet will be held tomorrow. I wonder if that little child will be there?" 

Cashim wondered, flipping the coin in his hand. 

"She might." 

After all, having a vast amount of money to splurge only means she is a noble with a higher standing. 

"Duchess, marquess, or Earl? Which is which?" 

"Or it could be in disguise, too." 

Cashim laughed, "Aiya, nobles love to play in disguise. Aren't I such one too?"