When Ravel faced Depha’s questions, his mind was already scheming.

  That looked like the insignia of a fourth-rank mage — a position far above his father’s, and undoubtedly accompanied by great power. If she could help me escape this place, or defeat that damned fellow, wouldn’t my father and mother and I be reunited? Free once more!

  With that thought firmly in mind, he forced a few tears and put on a pitiable tone.

  “Great Mage, I am the son of Lord Chanis. That vile commoner named Glenn captured me and forced me into slavery! He flaunts his little strength to take me hostage and extort my family’s wealth, and he even uses poor Tia for his amusements.

  “No matter how hard I toil, he gives me nothing to eat! Please, Great Mage, you must save us! W-waah…”

  Tia, standing at his side, widened her beautiful eyes in astonishment — her young master was surprisingly adept at lying.

  “Is that so?” Depha’s gaze was sharp, making Ravel feel suddenly exposed. “Yet I see mischief in your eyes — the unmistakable look of a spoiled, dissipated noble. I have seen it countless times.”

  Ravel felt as though a hand had clamped his throat; he opened his mouth to protest but no words came.

  “Oh my!” Tia’s face was full of awe and admiration. “No wonder you’re a mage — you saw through Master Ravel’s perfect disguise at once!”

  Ravel shot her a furious glare.

  You brainless maid!

  Realizing she’d blundered, Tia clapped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late.

  Depha laughed softly, covering her lips with one hand. She pointed at Tia and said, “You are an endearing little thing. Perhaps I might consider taking you with me — research would be far less tedious with such company.”

  Tia blushed at being called cute, but when Depha suggested she come along, she recoiled and hastily waved her hands.

  “Great Mage, my lady has entrusted me to care for the young master. I cannot leave her. I’m terribly sorry.”

  Instead of feeling touched by Tia’s refusal, Ravel was contemptuous. To accompany a fourth-rank mage — a status likely higher than his father’s — and she turns it down! If it were him, he would seize such an opportunity and never bother with knighthood again; a comfortable, respectable life would follow.

  Depha was not offended. She gently tickled Tia’s nose and murmured warmly, “Such a well-behaved child. I hope you keep this innocence.”

  Then, resuming the imposing tone of a grand sorceress, she turned back to Ravel. “This appears to be a feud between your family and him; I will not interfere. I must return to my carriage and rest — I remain ill at ease here.”

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  By “him” she meant, of course, Glenn.

  Tia and Ravel watched as Depha departed.

  “You’d better get back to work, Master, or there’ll be nothing to eat today,” Tia urged with genuine concern.

  “Hmph.” With a forced, heavy snort, Ravel summoned his pride and strode out toward the town.

  …

  At Mrs. Ryan’s house.

  Glenn had just finished fitting the new door. Turning to Mrs. Ryan, who had been handing him tools, he asked casually, “That should do it. How does it look to you?”

  She inspected the neat wooden door, tried the handle, and said with satisfaction, “Yes, I’m very pleased. Thank you for your hard work.”

  “Just doing my job,” Glenn replied as he tidied his tools on the ground. “Has Chief Doglity returned to the station? He ought not be fully recovered.”

  “He refuses to rest,” Mrs. Ryan said helplessly. “I’ve begged him countless times, but he’s stubborn. He won’t listen.”

  “Is it because of those kidnappings?” Glenn asked, squinting as he set the toolbox in a corner.

  “Yes.”

  “Do they know where you live?” he inquired.

  “Why do you ask? I don’t think they do,” Mrs. Ryan answered, puzzled.

  Glenn headed toward the stairs and glanced toward the front door.

  The lock suddenly caved inward, then tore apart — the iron lock crushed as if by a single palm. Glenn watched it clearly.

  With a creak, the unlocked door swung open.

  A figure entered wearing a black felt hat and a leather trench coat.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Mrs. Ryan, hearing the commotion, hurried downstairs and, frowning, shouted at the intruder, “Who are you?! You’re trespassing! You are not welcome here! Get out at once!”

  The man paid no heed to her indignation. He wandered over, picked up an unfinished cup of water and drank, then let out a low, amused chuckle.

  “Mrs. Ryan, first time we meet,” he said without offering an introduction. “No need for formalities.”

  He looked up so the two upstairs could see his face: sharp, deep-set eyes, an elongated face with chillingly precise features — an aura that set the skin on edge.

  Mrs. Ryan was intimidated by his bearing but did not flinch. She bristled and commanded, “I don’t care who you are. If you know my husband is the chief, then you should know assaulting an officer’s family is a crime. Leave now!”

  The man pulled over a stool and sat, crossing one leg over the other. Staring at her, he smiled and replied, “Originally, my boss wanted me to seize you and drag you off. Your husband isn’t much of a threat, but he has some usefulness. To ensure our plans proceed without a hitch, it would be best to control him — having you as a hostage would be ideal.

  “But now… madam, your fiery temperament and looks have intrigued me. How about you consider being with me instead? That old chief can’t satisfy you. I’m stronger than he is, and I guarantee pleasures that will make you feel as if you’re floating.”

  His words grew more obscene with each sentence. Mrs. Ryan trembled with anger and dread. She could not fathom who had given these criminals the nerve to threaten a lawman’s family.

  “Madam, there’s no need to anger a dying man. I can really fight; you needn’t fear for your safety,” Glenn interjected.

  “Really? Child, don’t be reckless. This isn’t your affair. Leave; he can’t do anything to me,” she replied.

  “Can really fight? Ha!” The trench-coated man laughed before Glenn could answer. “How can you fight? Street thugs? Hahaha—” He mocked and made a gesture, mimicking a common ruffian.

  “Don’t worry, ma’am,” Glenn said, ignoring the taunts, “I can handle men like him with one hand.”

  Feeling dismissed and insulted, the man’s smile faded. He fixed a malevolent gaze on Glenn and said coldly, “I had planned to sever your head cleanly, so you would die quickly. Now I have changed my mind.

  “I will shatter each of your bones, remove your organs piece by piece, and finally tear out your heart — and I will make you watch it still beating as you die.”