Chapter 318 — Homecoming
Blade of Dawn · Page 1 of 3
Three carriages bearing the Cecil family crest rolled through the streets of the royal capital. In the leading carriage, the witch Jubilee opened the shutter over the window and, with a flicker of curiosity held carefully in check, studied the city of Xuanque.
She had been born and raised in the poor, backward Southland. Until she met "Big Sister" Amber, her entire world had consisted of the dark, filthy corners of alleyways, the low, ramshackle lanes of the slums, and the reeking heaps of refuse in her little town. Yet like most Ansuans, she too had had her chances to hear tales of this great royal capital—from wandering bards, from boastful adventurers, from sly and wary merchants—and from their words she had pieced together an imagined picture of Xuanque: the towering, majestic walls, the magnificent churches, the imposing manor houses of the nobility, and the "Silver Keep," plastered all over with silver foil, where His Majesty the King resided.
In those days, when she had scraped by in the gutters and back alleys as a swindler and a witch, she had known that her station and her abilities made a visit to the capital impossible. Never mind visiting the capital—if she so much as dared set foot in any decent-sized city, she might well be seized by the local lord and flogged. But fate worked in wondrous ways. That was a line she had always been used to feeding credulous adventurers while wearing her hood and laying out her divination cards, yet now she wanted to say it to herself. By fate's wondrous arrangement, she had become a person of some standing, a servant of a great noble house—and this capital, which had once existed only in her imagination, now lay before her very eyes.
It was indeed, as the bards and adventurers had said, grand and magnificent.
Yet everywhere it betrayed age and squalor.
Jubilee frowned. Along both sides of the capital's streets filth lay thick, and within the tall walls there was no shortage of dilapidated slum lanes either. All along the way she had seen the same ragged poor and the same "untouchables" being driven off by soldiers, and she felt her fond imaginings of the capital crumbling bit by bit.
It was truly a splendid old capital; in depth of heritage and in scale, it was worthy of being called the foremost city of Ansu. Yet Jubilee found she preferred the clean, tidy streets and well-ordered districts of the Cecil territory—preferred its vigorous, hopeful people and its officials who kept strictly to the law.
But she kept firmly in mind the task she had been given before setting out, and so she concealed every shift of feeling well. With an elegant, becoming smile, she lowered the carriage shutter and turned to the young arcanist seated across from her. "Mr. Santis, shall we go straight to His Grace the Duke's residence?"
Santis was somewhat agitated. After a moment's hesitation, he spoke. "I would like... to go home first."
Then he hastily added, "Of course, the Duke's task comes first. If you think it unwise, we can go to Number Four Crown Street first..."
"There is no need for such restraint, Mr. Santis," the witch Jubilee said with a faint smile, exactly like a genuine apprentice mage from some minor noble or wealthy merchant family. "By the Duke's command, you are the leader of this operation. Pierce and I will only offer you necessary advice and assistance. You need only proceed according to whatever plan you consider reasonable."
"R-right... right," Santis said, nodding with a hint of awkwardness, and rather guiltily averted his gaze, striving not to meet the eyes of the "witch" opposite him—the woman with long flaxen hair, a black gown, and a pretty, alluring face. "Then we'll first... go to Cross Street. Oh—the other two carriages can go on ahead to Number Four Crown Street; they needn't follow us. Cross Street is narrow."