Chapter 249
The rusty hinge let out a particularly loud creak, perhaps because of the high ceiling.
Thanks to that, one of the guards immediately noticed the intrusion and stepped forward.
He removed his worn-out cap and asked politely,
“What brings you here?”
With his plain speech and nondescript appearance, he looked like any clueless laborer. But no civilian would be loitering around here at this hour.
Iona answered boldly.
“I’m here to collect the promised item.”
“The promised item…?” he trailed off.
“You don’t know who I am?” she cut in sharply.
Whatever secret codes Richard might’ve arranged with this group, Iona knew none of them.
Instead of proving her identity, she tried to take control with sheer confidence.
It was the classic ‘Don’t you know who I am?’ tactic.
The man, caught off guard by her brash and almost brazen attitude, faltered slightly.
Just then, sensing the commotion at the entrance, a few more men emerged from inside.
Among them was a face Iona recognized.
“Lady Iona?”
Hearing the familiar voice from across the room, Iona narrowed her eyes.
She hadn’t recognized him at first without his uniform, but one of the royal knights was among them—a man known for handling matters in a way far beneath the dignity of a knight.
His conniving nature had, in fact, earned him Richard’s favor in the past.
At present, he was still a low-ranking knight at best.
“Sir Max, it’s been a while.”
“I didn’t hear you were coming, Lady Iona. Weren’t you in the East?”
“I was, up until a couple of months ago. More recently, I’ve been in the North. It’s only been a few days since I returned to the capital.”
She added casually,
“His Highness the Crown Prince summoned me for an urgent matter.”
Iona’s voice was calm and steady.
Fortunately, Max didn’t seem suspicious. He only looked at her with a curious expression.
Waving his hand to dismiss the others, Max led her to a more private corner.
He quickly pulled out a cigar and offered it to her.
“Would you care for one?”
“Sure.”
She had promised Leroy she’d quit, but in the current atmosphere, accepting felt like the natural choice.
Thinking she should freshen up with some perfume before rejoining her husband, Iona took the cigar and placed it between her lips.
She hadn’t considered herself someone who enjoyed smoking, but after such a long time, the taste wasn’t as unpleasant as she remembered.
As she began to hum softly, Max—who had been watching her carefully—seemed relieved and tucked the cigar case back into his coat.
“Are you back for good this time?”
“I plan to be. After all, living together this long—we might as well look the part of a married couple.”
“I thought you were gone for good. I heard you retired and left permanently.”
“Is that how the rumor went?”
Iona brushed off her retirement as nothing more than idle gossip.
Seeing how confidently she carried herself, Max seemed to second-guess what he thought he knew.
The topic soon shifted.
“Either way, it’s good to have you back. Ever since you left, the knights’ discipline has never quite been the same.”
Despite being a knight, Max was anything but straightforward. He’d always been skilled at navigating the hierarchy within the order.
Iona didn’t bother replying to his shameless flattery and simply let out a quiet chuckle.
Thanks to his eagerness to get on her good side, it looked like things would proceed far more smoothly than she’d expected.
Taking another slow drag from her cigar, Iona calmly shifted to the main point.
“Is the hostage awake?”
“Last I checked, he was unconscious. Hasn’t eaten in days—shouldn’t have the strength to resist.”
“Make sure he’s at least able to stand. If His Grace the Archduke sees his son barely clinging to life, he’ll lose it.”
“Yes, ma’am. If you wait here, I’ll go and—”
“No, I’m coming with you.”
Iona tossed the cigar to the ground as she spoke.
The two tense groups that had been on the verge of confrontation had since relaxed, waiting for further orders from above.
Iona told the men she had brought to stand by and followed Max inside.
The place Max led her to was underground.
She had wondered what the stench was—pungent and stale—and when she peered through the dark, she saw it: rare creatures collected and kept in cages by nobles.
Apparently, the Archduke’s son was being held in one of those enclosures.
“Hey, get him up and make him presentable. Put him in some decent clothes.”
Max clapped his hands, summoning the men who had been waiting inside.
They moved quickly.
They doused the hostage with water to wake him up, wiped his face roughly with the same water, and changed him into clean clothes.
Still half-conscious, the Archduke’s son kept mumbling,
“Get lost,”
“Damn it,”
“I’ll kill every last one of you.”
Watching the scene unfold, Max leaned in and whispered to Iona,
“Kid’s got a nasty temper. That’s why we kept him starving.”
Even from a distance, his powerful build was obvious.
Iona had been worried about recognizing him—after all, she’d only seen a portrait of him from when he was a teenager—but it turned out to be a needless concern. His bone structure was nearly identical to his father’s.
‘There’s no doubt—he’s the Archduke’s son.’
Though the lighting was dim and it was hard to see clearly, the reddish-brown hair matched the description perfectly.
Seeing for herself that the Archduke’s son was alive, Iona finally let herself relax a little.
She looked at him with something like warmth and said,
“We don’t need any unnecessary noise. Gag him—tight.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Despite his weakened state, the Archduke’s son glared at Iona with sharp, defiant eyes when he heard her voice.
The kidnappers had just finished gagging him and were moving to tie his wrists when it happened.
From somewhere, the Archduke’s son summoned a surge of strength, abruptly rising and slamming the top of his head into the jaw of the man pinning him down.
“Hey! Somebody grab him!”
Max shouted, flustered by the sudden chaos.
But the men were caught off guard. They scrambled to subdue him but failed. As expected from someone raised in a region constantly under threat, his movements were swift and calculated.
Using only his legs, the Archduke’s son fought off his attackers and made a dash toward the exit.
Eventually, Iona stepped in. She kicked a nearby chair, sending it crashing into his path.
Unable to react in time, he tripped over the obstacle and hit the ground hard.
Iona stepped onto his back to keep him from getting up and glanced around with cold authority.
“What are you all doing? Finish tying him up.”
Then she looked down again to check whether the Archduke’s son was still in one piece.
He’d taken quite the fall, and she was half-expecting to see blood on his forehead—but surprisingly, he seemed fine.
Except for the fact that the person she was worried about was now glaring up at her with intense, venomous hatred.
In the midst of his rampage, the Archduke’s son spat out the loosened gag with a wet ptooey and spoke as if chewing every word.
“I’ve memorized every one of your damn faces. You’d better brace yourselves. None of you are going to die easy.”
Even though the situation didn’t exactly call for fear, the cracked tone in his voice sent an unmistakable chill down the spine.
Looking down at the Archduke’s son, Iona idly imagined what kind of reaction she’d get if she revealed that she was on his father’s side.
After all, would someone who’d been imprisoned for months really believe a stranger saying, “I’m here to rescue you”?
Unlikely.
Especially when there were so many eyes watching.
After a brief pause, Iona chose the most reassuring words she could think of under the circumstances.
“If you want to live long enough to see your father’s face again, you’d better behave.”
“…What?”
“Think about how hard your father is working to save the only son he has. The least that son can do is not make things harder.”
“You… what the hell? You miserable sons of—”
“We’re about to go negotiate your ransom, so let’s not ruin that pretty face before we get paid, alright?”
Speaking in a tone as dry as business, Iona personally replaced the gag in his mouth.
By the time she’d done so, the men had finished binding the hostage’s wrists and ankles and had stepped back into formation.
Iona gave them a subtle nod of her chin and ordered,
“Pick him up and load him into the carriage.”
Perhaps it was the mention of his father waiting for him—but from that moment on, the Archduke’s son noticeably calmed down.
Watching the scene unfold, Max gave an approving smile and clapped a couple of times in admiration.
---The End Of The Chapter---
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