A week later, the punishment of having no dinners was over, and Fie once again visited the headquarters of the 18th Knights. Upon entering the converted warehouse, Conrad was already there — as expected.
Once again, Conrad gave his usual greeting, and started brewing a new pot of tea. The brew had a sweet but calming, almost relaxing scent.
It was at that moment that Conrad, seated across from Fie, decided to speak.
“We’re on an assignment together. I hope we’ll make a good team, Heathy!” This statement was followed up by one of Conrad’s trademark winks.
“Eh...?” Fie responded blankly.
Upon witnessing Fie’s reaction, Conrad’s enigmatic expression flitted across his features once more. Feigning surprise, he moved to prop up his face with an arm, looking upwards at the still-confused Fie.
“You’re terrible, Heathy. You’re making that, ‘Oh, I thought this person never did assignments!’ face. It’s like you just think I’m a slacker, you know?”
(H-He read my mind!?)
The hair on the back of Fie’s neck inevitably stood up as she wondered if Conrad could, indeed, read minds.
“I-I’m sorry. But... you’re always around when I visit, so...”
“It’s because I wanted to have tea with you, Heathy.”
Conrad smiled as he delivered those words, and Fie thought that perhaps she hadn’t been too far off the mark after all — maybe Conrad really did just slack off. Unlike Crow, who was always looking out for her, or the other members of the platoon who were at times absent from the headquarters, Conrad alone had achieved a sort of perfect attendance record for being there without fail.
“So... what is this assignment?”
“Oh, we’re just going out to the city. There’s still tea left in the pot, so take your time and drink it all before we get going.”
The current atmosphere was far too relaxed and without tension for Fie to think of it as a moment before an assignment.
(Are we just... going shopping or something?)
While Fie thought that this couldn’t be true, she could not help but consider the possibility.
So the two of them, having finished their tea in a leisurely manner, left for the town from the castle gates.
Although the heart of the capital was filled with neatly-arranged stone buildings, the place Conrad took Fie to was slightly away from that — a place where wooden structures were haphazardly arranged, in contrast. This place was different from the downtown area where she had gone shopping with Slad and the rest. It exuded a decidedly dangerous aura.
Seeing the visibly unsettled Fie, who had preoccupied herself by looking around at her surroundings, Conrad smiled.
“Don’t stare so much. That’s no good, you know? You’re going to attract dangerous people.”
Heeding Conrad’s warning, Fie decided to stop looking around altogether. It really did seem like a dangerous place.
The house Conrad had brought her to was dingy at best. It was a two-story wooden structure, and spots here and there in the walls had changed color. It was indeed a derelict wreck. As its appearance would suggest, there did not seem to be much traffic in the way of inhabitants.
Upon opening the door and entering, an old man was visible, seated at what appeared to be a reception counter.
A glance at his eyes revealed that the old m
an was, in fact, blind. Without a word or greeting, Conrad left some money on the counter, and made his way into the depths of the building.
(Wah!)
For a single night’s stay at such a run-down place, it was an unimaginably huge sum of money. In fact, it was perhaps an even greater sum than three months’ worth of Fie’s squire allowance.
The old receptionist, for his part, took the money quickly and in an equally wordless manner.
Influenced by this deathly silent atmosphere, Fie decided to follow after Conrad without asking a single question.
At the top of the stairs they were greeted with a corridor lined with rooms on either side. There were about six rooms in all, and not a single one of them seemed to have inhabitants.
It was here that Conrad handed some clothing to Fie — to be precise, what appeared to be a butler outfit, cut to a youth’s size.
A smallish white shirt, vest, and a black necktie with an accompanying pair of black pants — the outfit had no jacket.
“Change in this room. I’ll go change too.” Pointing out a room to Fie, Conrad promptly entered the room next to it.
(What’s this all about...?)
Without understanding much of the situation, Fie entered the room and changed into the outfit as instructed — the size fit her just right.
Fie could not help but wonder “why?” But it was pointless to think about it — she couldn’t figure it out either way. Exiting the room, Fie found that Conrad was still nowhere to be seen.
After waiting for what seemed to be quite a while, the door to the room that Conrad had entered swung open — and there stood an impossibly beautiful young woman.
Her long red hair seemed to radiate the fragrance of passion itself — her large and almond-shaped eyes were complimented by long, soft eyelashes. Her white skin, like porcelain, struck a sharp contrast with her hair — like a single drop of red in an ocean of white, much like a piece of fine art. Her daring dress exposed part of her bosom, seemingly wrapping around her slim and well-balanced body. Above all, the charm that emanated from her set even Fie’s heart aflutter, despite being a girl herself.
Most importantly, however, she smelled incredibly good. Without thinking, Fie began to sniff the fragrance that was currently filling the air.
Looking upon Fie’s slightly sorry state, a bewitching but beautiful smile flitted across the young woman’s face. With a flourish, she brought a luxurious feather fan up to her lips, finally parting them to deliver a few words unto the enraptured Fie.
“Kept you waiting, huh? Heathy.”
It was... Conrad’s voice...
“Y-You were a woman all along, Conrad?!”
Faced with the impossibly beautiful young woman that Conrad had seemingly morphed into before her, Fie could not help but raise her voice. With his usual enigmatic smile and easygoing tone, Conrad responded.
“Oh, you. Don’t be like that. I’m a man — a man. You can tell from my voice, can’t you?”
It was as Conrad said — a man’s voice. However, more than anything else, Conrad’s voice was one thing — ambiguous. It did not have many identifying traits, such as how masculine it was, or how “Conrad-like” it sounded. In that specific aspect, its ambiguity was perhaps its only notable trait, and that in particular made it difficult to discern. That was the only way Fie could think to describe it.
If Conrad were to speak while dressed like that, it was easy for the mind to play tricks on itself and hear an actual woman speak, instead.
However...
As if on cue, Fie fixated her gaze on a specific part of Conrad’s attire.
The bosom that was currently very daringly peeking out of Conrad’s dress seemed to be the real thing. That which beguiles not only men, but equally draws in the stares of women — the bewitching valley of Conrad’s impossible cleavage.
(How... How did he even do that...?)
Conrad, on the other hand, looked upon Fie’s fixated stare with amusement.
“I could teach you if you wanted to try it out?”
“No, that’s all right.” Fie shook her head.
Looking over Fie’s appearance from head to toe, Conrad, nodded, as if to give his approval.
“Yes, this is good. It is very cute. Now all that’s left is a few touch-ups...”
Conrad took out a makeup kit from seemingly nowhere, and began working on Fie’s face and hair.
“Well, how is it?”
Looking into the hand mirror that Conrad had given her, Fie could not help but be surprised. After all, Conrad had only performed some small actions here and there, but Fie’s face seemed to be that of another person.
Although her face was usually bright and shiny, she now had the appearance of a fragile-looking, quiet youth. Her hair was combed to look more dry and fine — as if to reinforce a certain image. The hue of her hair was different as well. Although Fie was usually blonde, it was now streaked with red.
“If the base is of a lighter color, it becomes easier to work with, you see. Don’t worry, it’ll come off right away if you shower — so be careful to not let it come into contact with water during the assignment.”
And so, by Conrad’s hand, Fie underwent a complete transformation.
“With this, the preparations are complete,” Conrad said, as he put on an expensive-looking hat with a veil that concealed part of his face.
One would think that Conrad was a noble lady eager to conceal her identity, albeit suspiciously. To top it all off, the fleetingly visible dainty jawline and red lipstick gave off strong hints of hidden beauty beneath the veil.
With all preparations apparently complete, Conrad deployed the feathered fan once more, coquettishly bringing the tip of it up to his lips.
“Well, shall we go?”
The voice Fie heard next was the real thing — a voice that seemingly belonged to a beautiful and seductive woman.
Upon exiting the building, Fie followed Conrad to what appeared to be an even stranger establishment than the first. It clearly stood out from its peers in the neighborhood — for starters, it was sturdily built, and its windows were all blocked, so as to prevent its contents from being known to the world. Several rough-looking men stood guard outside the building. No matter how one spun it, this was yet another place with a markedly dangerous aroma.
It was this very building, however, that Conrad had advanced towards, without a shred of hesitation.
Upon seeing Conrad, who was currently dressed as a member of the aristocracy, unfitting smiles crossed the intimidating faces of the guards.
“Well, well. If it isn’t Mistress Meynue. Do you have business with Master Ruboella?”
“Yes, I have come to look at the goods again. Would you kindly let us in?”
“Yes, Master Ruboella has instructed that Mistress Meynue is always welcome. Please, do come in.”
Bowing his head in deference, the man escorted Conrad into the building. At that point in time, the man finally noticed Fie following after Conrad, dressed in her butler’s attire.
“Mistress Meynue, this child is...?”
Upon seeing Fie, the man took on a slightly defensive body position. He lowered his stance slightly, and moved his right hand to the back of his waist, taking care to not show the palm of his hand. Judging by his actions, there was probably some sort of weapon hidden behind his back.
As if he had not noticed any of these actions, however, Conrad spoke to the man in a markedly slow drawl.
“Oh, he’s just my butler. Isn’t that right, Sorshia.”
Sorshia. That was the false name Conrad had given her during the assignment briefing.
Upon hearing that name, Fie lowered her head ever so slightly, as if to portray an image of shyness and introversion, before nodding firmly. The character of “Sorshia” was apparently mute.
“Oh, I’m sorry. This boy cannot speak.”
“Your... butler.”
“Yes. He’s a very good boy, you know?”
“Oh, yes. You have good taste, Missus.”
The man assumed an insincere smile after hearing Mistress Meynue’s words. After all, there was no way such a youth could possibly perform the duties required of a butler — he couldn’t even speak. Although the man had read the circumstances and was smiling to himself as a result, Conrad continued acting like the air-headed Meynue, pretending to not notice the man’s slights at all.
“Heheheh, it’s okay if I bring this boy in, right? It’ll be so sad if I leave him outside, the poor thing.”
“Yes, of course.”
Having received permission from the lookout, Conrad entered the shop, with Fie trailing not far behind.
The first floor of the building was what appeared to be a bar of sorts. In the dark room, curtains blotted out the sunlight — in its place, red and blue lamps faintly illuminated the darkness. There were guests present even at this time of day, scattered across and seated at the tables, drinking their fill.
However, to the eyes of the establishment’s regular patrons, Fie and company were definitely not ordinary guests — if anything, they were probably people who were related to the operation, somehow.
Fie and Conrad, however, were not headed to the pub.
As if receiving some sort of direction from the guards outside, a guide promptly appeared before Conrad and Fie, bowing as a sign of respect.
“Welcome to our humble establishment, Mistress Meynue. I shall guide you to Master Ruboella at once.”
The place they were led to was towards the back of the store. They passed through a painfully undecorated corridor — all the way up to the second floor. Although there were sparsely-hung paintings and flower vases displayed here and there, one could not in good faith say that they were displayed in good taste. The vases were also placed in precarious locations — so much so that even the guide himself nearly knocked one over.
Finally the group reached their destination — a pair of doors at the end of a long corridor. Before those doors stood two thick-set men. By their appearances, this was probably where the master of this particular establishment resided.
Leading Fie and Conrad up to the door, the guide opened it, politely offering the group entry.
Upon entering the room, the two lookouts followed close behind, entering with them — and soon, the door closed with an audible thud.
“Welcome, Mistress Meynue! It is a great honor for you to visit my humble establishment once more!”
Complimenting his overly flowery language with over-the-top hand gestures, a small, round man sat in the middle of the room, sporting an equally small mustache. His hair, trailing behind him, reeked of excess hair products. It did not take long for an unpleasant odor to waft by Fie’s nose.
It seemed like this man, Ruboella, was the proprietor.
“Heheheh. I have been to other shops, but nothing really interests me. That’s why I’ve come to your shop again, Ruboella.”
As if to emphasize his sex appeal, Conrad brought his closed feathered fan up to his lips, lightly tapping it against his cheek. The slight breeze from that action lifted Conrad’s veil, offering a peek of the young woman’s seductive and beautiful face — the lower half, at least. Graced with that particular sight, Fie saw Ruboella’s jaw almost hit the ground as he leered at Conrad.
“We pride ourselves in our offerings and selection. We will definitely find you a slave that matches your tastes, Missus. Please, have a seat.”
Ruboella motioned to a table before seating himself down on the opposite end of it.
Fie began to slowly understand the situation. This was a place where slaves were sold — in particular, slaves from the warehouse that they had raided a while ago.
“What kind of slave do you wish for today, Mistress Meynue?”
“Hmm... Let’s see. We’ll have a black-haired child this time.”
“If that’s the case, what do you think of this one that carries royal blood from the faraway land of Baharat?”
Ruboella busied himself with scattering information about various slaves in front of Conrad — however, he was taking various chances while doing so to stare down the open cleavage displayed by Conrad’s daring dress, and to sneak peeks at his face under the veil. Conrad himself, however, acted like he noticed nothing.
“Well... it is difficult to tell just from portraits, you know? Could you let me see the real thing?”
“The trade has been... difficult recently. We have had some difficulties moving slaves around... It was easier in the days of the old king’s reign...”
“How terrible.”
“Our thoughts exactly. You are like how a real noble should be, Missus. Not afraid to have... good and bad hobbies. The current king is far too rigid.”
“Heheheh. It is as you say.”
“But rest assured, Missus. After all, we have been selling slaves to the hands of various nobles in Orstoll for generations — it’s a tradition for us. Unlike Firem, who just has a big operation and name, we don’t sell in that sort of complicated manner. We leave the portraits to very skilled artists as well, what you see is what you get!”
Upon hearing Ruboella’s words, Fie felt angry at the situation.
(What a tradition... You even kidnap people...)
Fie was angry enough to kick Ruboella and send him flying. However, doing so would put Conrad in danger, and so she held her temper.
After all, the two well-built guards that had entered the room with them were still standing behind Conrad — if anything happened here, they would have no chance at winning.
Meanwhile Conrad, who was still acting the part of the aristocratic missus, pretended to be lost in thought, eventually choosing a slave from the sheath of papers that he had been given.
“Well, let’s go with this one.”
“This one, yes... As usual, Missus, you have a good eye...”
“How much is it?”
“Yes. Hmm. This one would go for about five million merks.”
“Oh, did the price go up yet again?”
“Well, as I mentioned, Missus, the trade has been difficult recently. Although it wasn’t one of ours, there was a warehouse recently that got destroyed... If we don’t charge this much, we’ll be out of business!”
Upon hearing those words, Conrad allowed a slight frown to cross his features, purposely taking a slightly pouty pose with his body.
“What am I to do? After all, I spent some money on dresses and gems. Hey... could you give me a discount?”
Ruboella’s jaw dropped once more as Conrad’s seductive voice caressed his ears.
“E-Even so, I’m afraid...”
Seizing the opportunity, Conrad moved his body close to Ruboella’s in a naturally sashaying way. The sweet smell of perfume promptly took control of Ruboella’s nose.
“Well... how about this. I will pay four million merks. And as for the rest... you can have... me.”
Conrad was now leaning against Ruboella, before casually lifting his veil to show off his beautiful face.
“Um... well Missus... weren’t you only interested in... young boys...?”
“I like all cute boys... But I also like older, more tempered men... like you. Is that strange?”
“N-No... It is not strange at all...”
As Ruboella’s jaw continued hitting the ground at continuously accelerated levels, it was obvious that he had fallen for Conrad’s honeypot trap. He no longer resisted Conrad’s advances.
“Hey... them watching... it’s embarrassing.”
“Huh?”
Conrad pointed to the two guards in the room, still standing in front of the door.
“They will just get in the way. Surely you can dismiss them, right? After all, it’s going to be time just for the two of us...”
“Hey, you two. That’s enough, leave us.”
Ruboella quickly agreed to Mistress Meynue’s request — and so the two guards left, returning to their posts outside the door. At that moment in time, Ruboella finally noticed a young boy in a butler outfit standing in the room with them.
“Missus, what about that...?”
Anticipating the question, Conrad instead placed both his hands on Ruboella’s face, showing a bewitchingly seductive smile to her newfound prey.
“That boy is going to watch us. You might grow to like it, you know?”
The youth who was dressed in a butler outfit, watching over the pair, was currently preoccupied with intensely blushing. However, Fie’s blush wasn’t an act — specifically, she was blushing at Conrad’s terribly seductive voice, and the entire scene set before her.
“Yes, you have great taste...” And so, the unsuspecting Ruboella promptly agreed, and their faces gradually drew closer to each other.
Fie’s eyes were spinning in their sockets.
“Well then. Let’s make you feel really, really good.”
Conrad’s bewitchingly luscious voice continued ringing in Fie’s ears.
“Urgh!” A strange sound escaped Ruboella’s lips, and then his head lolled limply to on side.
Raising her gaze, which was up until a moment ago firmly fixated on the floor, Fie realized that Ruboella was now unconscious — and Conrad’s fingers were on his throat.
Placing Ruboella’s body onto the ground and confirming that he was indeed knocked out, Conrad stood up, looking in Fie’s direction.
“Well. It’s time for work. Make sure not to speak too loud.” Offering his usual wink, Conrad placed a single finger against his lips.
“Did you... choke him?”
“Yes.”
(Doing that in a single moment... How impossibly quick...)
Looking at the cross-dressed Conrad’s slim and lithe fingers, Fie had a hard time believing that they were capable of doing such a thing.
Confirming Ruboella’s pulse with her own hands, Fie spoke softly.
“Hey... is he going to be okay...?”
“Oh he’ll be fine. He was choked slowly while inhaling this perfume with aphrodisiac properties. It probably felt good — and he’s probably having a nice dream right about now.” Conrad smiled as he casually delivered his statement.
Sure enough, the prone Ruboella lying down on the ground was making a perversely happy face, with occasional groans of “Mistress Meynue... Eheheh...” escaping from his half-open mouth.
After that, Fie and Conrad searched and gathered various documents in Ruboella’s room — primarily letters and papers on where other slaves were being kept, and locations of other similar establishments.
“As expected, it’s more fun with another person around. However... even for a fool like him, he wouldn’t leave something like a client list lying around, huh... What a pity,” said Conrad, crossing his legs as he continued arranging the scattered documents.
It seemed that the client list was the most desired piece of intel for this assignment. While stopping the sale of human slaves was not too difficult a thing to do, the problem lay more with the buyers in question.
Many customers of such establishments were from noble families who wielded ancient privileges and power in Orstoll. It would be difficult, if not impossible, for the kingdom’s soldiers to obtain a search warrant for their properties. The slaves themselves were also often disguised as live-in servants, or went by different names and backgrounds.
“But... several people will basically be done in with this.” Conrad withdrew a few missives from within Ruboella’s letters as he said so, waving the papers with a slight smile. “Well, we got what we came for. Let’s go home.”
Conrad stood up from his chair, and Fie followed soon after.
The two of them returned the missives and letters back to their proper positions, while Conrad placed his veiled hat back on, exiting the room with an indifferent expression. Sensing the gaze of the two guards on him, Conrad turned around, looking at the pair so that they could only see his lips.
“Tell Ruboella it was... very good. Oh, and he said to not come in for a while.”
Upon looking at Conrad’s almost whispered smile, the guard’s faces turned red. Conrad then proceeded to leave the same way they came, with the same elegant movements. Fie followed closely behind him.
At that point in time, Fie let go of some of the tension in her mind — perhaps it was because she thought that they were already out of the woods. Unfortunately, Fie’s relaxed shoulder knocked into a familiar, badly-placed vase.
With a dramatic spin, the long-necked flower vase tilted on its side, threatening to fall down onto Fie. Although she tried to catch it before it fell, water from the vase’s mouth poured over Fie’s head, having been tilted in an angle it wasn’t designed to be in.
“Wah!!” Without thinking, the panicked Fie let the sound slip out of her mouth.
(I was not supposed to be able to speak...!)
Fie’s heart started to pound.
“Are you all right!?”
The two guards began advancing in their direction without a single hint of suspicion. It would seem that the guard at the front door did not relay to his compatriots the entire description of Fie’s transformed self — specifically the part where she was mute. Fie gave a sigh of relief.
However...
Drops of water started dripping from Fie’s hair, the droplets having visibly been dyed red. Fie’s original blonde hair showed through in places where the dye had been washed away.
“You... Why did you dye your hair...? Could you come with us for a moment...?”
With those words, the guards began advancing on Fie, motioning to bring her into Ruboella’s room.
(This is bad...!)
The panicked Fie evaded the guard’s arms on instinct. She thought to defeat both the guards without alerting her immediate surroundings.
However, she had no weapon...
As this was an infiltration assignment, she had left her sword back at headquarters. Without some sort of weapon, there was no way Fie would be able to face the two burly men on her own.
(What do I do...?)
“Hey! Are you resisting?”
“This one’s suspicious! Get him!”
Determining Fie’s evasive movements as suspicious, the two guards advanced upon Fie with the intent to kill. Panicking, Fie barely managed to avoid the guard’s knives as they swung down in large arcs.
(What do I do...!?)
A single moment of carelessness had now forced Fie into yet another inescapable predicament. Her mind was filled with anxiety, and she was unable to think about anything else. In addition, her failure would implicate Conrad and put him in danger as well.
She had to think of some way to get out of this situation — if she had stayed where she was, and the commotion attracted the attention of the other guards, it would all end here.
Suddenly, Conrad, whom Fie had not noticed until just now, weaved in between her and the guards with a few elegant movements. In a series of steps not befitting the currently tense atmosphere, Conrad’s silhouette was like that of a belle at a ball, immediately drawing both Fie and the guards’ attention.
Conrad had removed the veiled hat at some point, and was now smiling as he looked up at the two guards — a dazzling, beaming smile, like that of an angel’s. For a moment, the guard’s eyes were drawn in to her impossibly beautiful smiling face.
At that point, Conrad’s arms, which had snaked up on their victims from their blind spots, closed around their throats, lifting both men off the ground. The two men, who were taller than Conrad to begin with, were now being held up by those two slender arms, their feet no longer touching the ground.
A few blunt sounds rang out through the air.
The two guards were now appropriately unconscious and blowing foam bubbles. Fie could only stammer at the series of events that had happened in what appeared to be the blink of an eye.
“Conrad...”
Turning around to face her, Conrad’s face was now filled with his usual gentle, but enigmatic smile.
“It was a good experience, wasn’t it Heathy? In infiltration assignments... a single moment of carelessness will cost you your life.”
“I’m sorry, I...”
“It’s all right. There are times when things do not go as planned. At times like that, it’s important that we offer what support we can. I’ll deal with it this time, so you can stay right here and wait for me, Heathy.”
With that, Conrad descended the stairs with yet another series of elegant steps. Staff members of the establishment, who had heard some of the noise, rushed up to Conrad, asking if anything was amiss.
“Mistress Meynue... what were those sounds just now...?”
“Heheheh. It’s nothing. My silly butler just knocked over some water from one of the tall vases.”
Blunt sounds of straining sinew and bone punctuated Conrad’s otherwise peaceful conversations with the guards and staff members.
A few minutes later.
“I’m done!” Returning to Fie’s side in the same elegant way was Conrad, without a single droplet of sweat on his brow. “Well, I’ve basically taken out most of them. Let’s go home.”
“Um... I’m really sorry...”
This assignment had been a huge failure, much like the one before it. Fie looked decidedly depressed.
“Oh, no. It’s fine. I wanted to play with them for a little longer, but I was going to report them to the relevant authorities either way. It won’t affect future jobs. More importantly...”
Suddenly, Conrad moved his face close to Fie’s.
There was apparently a small, slight cut there — apparently the shaken Fie had not managed to completely evade the guard’s knives.
“You have to be careful with facial injuries, you know? You’re a girl after all.”
“Oh... Yes...”
In that moment, Fie realized what she had just heard, and began rapidly shaking her head in denial.
“No, wait, that’s not it! I’m a boy!”
Conrad’s response to the flustered Fie was a mischievous smile.
“I’m an expert in cross-dressing. Do you think that half-assed boy disguise could fool me? Well, at least the other blockheads haven’t noticed.”
It seems that Fie’s secret had been found out a long time ago — and Fie greeted this fact with genuine surprise. However, she was also filled with relief at the fact that the other members hadn’t noticed.
“Um... Is it okay if you keep it a secret...?”
“Sure. It’s more interesting that way, you know.” Conrad agreed surprisingly quickly.
But... interesting? It was an answer that filled Fie with uneasiness in all sorts of other ways.
Upon following Conrad out of the shop, Fie realized that all the members of the staff had been knocked out cold by Conrad.
(This many people... with no weapons!?)
It was an unbelievable sight. Fie could feel a drop of sweat trickling down her back.
Upon finally exiting the building, a single guard was still on the lookout, apparently unaware of what had happened in the shop — in fact, it was the same guard who had greeted them on the way in.
“Well, if it isn’t Mistress Meynu—”
The moment the guard turned around to face Fie and Conrad, the latter’s hands were already around his throat, and in an instant, he too was unconscious.
Without much of a thought, Conrad walked along with the man held up in that particular fashion, traveling a short distance before throwing him into a small, dark alley.
“Well, all that’s left is to send word to the Royal Knights, and then all these goons will be rounded up,” Conrad said, clapping his hands together in apparent glee as he turned to face Fie.
“Yes...” Fie could only force a smile, nodding as cold sweat dripped down her face.
On this day, Fie learned three things.
The first was that the seemingly harmless Conrad was apparently someone to be feared.
Second, that he actually was a very busy person. Fie learned that firsthand upon accompanying Conrad back to the royal castle, upon which a report was summarily delivered to the Royal Knights. Apparently, it was standard fare for Conrad to cross-dress and infiltrate various locations to gather intelligence on criminal organizations.
Amongst the knights of the 18th, he was actually the one who spent the least time at headquarters — in fact, he had actually adjusted his schedule so he could welcome Fie on each and every one of her visits... And the reason for Conrad doing all that was supposedly because he enjoyed Fie’s visits.
The third thing was —
“So, how was today?”
“There were many surprises, and I’m nervous and tired... Also, I failed again...”
“Heheheh. Is that so? Don’t be too hung up over the failures, though. The main thing I wanted you to take away from this was how it felt to be on an infiltration assignment.”
“Yes.”
On the way back to the royal castle, Fie could feel an immense number of stares on her being. That was a given, however. After all, a stunningly beautiful young woman was walking by her side.
Fie had already finished changing, once more assuming her form as a youthful squire. Conrad, however, did not remove his disguise — instead deciding to parade next to her, dress, cleavage, and all.
With his veil removed, the men of the town were all fixated on Conrad’s bewitching form — enough to stare holes through him. Yet Conrad seemed at least twice as vibrant and happy as his usual self, being on the receiving end of these gazes.
Witnessing this, Fie came to one conclusion.
(This person definitely likes cross-dressing regardless of if an assignment calls for it or not...)
And so it came to be that Fie learned much about Conrad on this particular day.
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