Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 605

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 45.
The Velvet-Lined Invitation (18)
As Espin began walking alongside me, she cast a sidelong glance and wrinkled her nose.
“Your clothes have improved, so it seems you’ve become wealthy. What happened to that person who said all you needed was money? Is there any truth to anything you’ve said?”
“Yes, there isn’t. Everything that comes out of my mouth is nonsense. So now, take back double the advance payment and disappear. I clearly told you I don’t have the means to recover your pistol—what do you want from me? A meeting with the Professor? That requires the Academy to be open first.”
“Well, a meeting would be nice, but…”
As we conversed, the number of people crossing the Grand Square continued to grow. Just past noon, it was the hour when people came to eat lunch, took walks after eating, or simply sought a moment in the sun—all passing through the square.
What had begun as two enemies maintaining a distance of a step or two now saw us walking together like companions. Countless people brushed past us from behind and to the side. The savory aroma of bread drifted by. Unfamiliar spice scents, the fishy tang of the sea, the overpowering notes of perfume.
“How about this instead? I find you a different pistol.”
Maximian glanced at Espin with an incredulous expression.
“What? Did you lose a dozen pistols or something?”
Espin spread one hand and shrugged.
“I’m not sure of the exact number, but it’s definitely more than one. So, what do you think? Instead of the promised pistol, I find you another one—we modify the contract on those terms. Isn’t that quite reasonable? With an existing contract already in place, are you so lacking in conscience that you’d abandon it over this?”
…
When Maximian didn’t answer quickly, Espin walked several steps ahead, then spun around with both arms spread wide, tilting her chin as if asking whether the terms pleased me.
Maximian merely shrugged—neither agreement nor denial. But Espin seemed to understand regardless, let out a soft laugh, turned around, took a few steps, then suddenly broke into a trot and scattered a flock of birds.
Even acting as innocent as a young girl, the sword concealed within the coat she held was plainly visible—I couldn’t afford to lower my guard. Besides, she seemed to be in good spirits. Was she already assuming I’d give a positive answer? On whose authority?
No…
Perhaps Espin was simply enjoying herself, regardless of me. Why? Had something worked out well? Or did she have fond memories of this square?
It was a foolish thought. The one with memories of this square wasn’t Espin—it was me. I was merely projecting my own feelings onto someone else. From the moment I landed at Keltika Bay until today. I needed to come to my senses and stop this nonsense. I had a premonition that something unnecessary would happen if I continued.
From somewhere came the aroma of tomato mussel stew. The scents of sausage and pretzel mingled with it. Someone shouted that those boarding a ship needed to hurry. People called out invitations to the newly opened Dining Hall, suggested going elsewhere instead, mentioned what they’d recently purchased, asked how someone’s children were doing, and answered in kind.
The Grand Square was truly crowded. Many people, but not a single one I knew—only a creditor.
“This place really is spacious. It’s impressive how empty they kept it.”
Espin’s face, now at my side, was somewhat flushed. I replied coldly.
“They needed the space for the executioner’s block.”
Espin blinked several times and glanced around. We had somehow reached the edge of the Grand Square.
“Really? This is where the executioner’s block stood?”
“How would I know? I’m just an ordinary country person.”
Espin rose on her toes to peer into the square. At its center stood a small tent advertising a circus that would open in a few days. Colorful flags fluttered merrily in time with faint pipe music.
“Imagining it in a place so full of life is difficult.”
“They killed people just as readily when it was full of life. Those people passing by now probably gathered as spectators for such things.”
“You’re talking about the Republic era?”
“As if only the Republic killed people. Before and after, they’ve been killing for generations. Is this your first time here?”
Espin nodded and continued peering at the square. At moments like this, she seemed like an ordinary girl her age, but that couldn’t possibly be true. We had met here, after all.
At the end of November, I had suddenly disappeared from Nenyaple. It was a genuine disappearance, even employing the magic of Nenyaple’s professors. Yet Espin, somehow, had discovered that Nenyaple was about to close, pursued me all the way to Keltika, and appeared before me with casual grace. Was such a thing even possible?
I had once been pursued by a professional assassin. If that assassin had pursued me the way Espin did, I doubted I’d be alive now. Of course, magical methods had been employed when that assassin lost my group, but one thing was certain: the notion that someone like this was an ordinary Nenyaple applicant was absurd. So what was her true identity? And what was that pistol?
“All right, isn’t it about time you revealed your true identity?”
Espin didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she walked backward slowly, folding her arms. Then she narrowed her eyes slightly and smiled brightly.
“You complained that everything was troublesome, but now you want to know something? Then I’ll have to teach you again. I’ll explain it all carefully, step by step. But don’t rush. We have time, don’t we? After all, you’re mine for the next year.”
For a moment, I doubted my ears.
“You’re saying that now… Why would I… No, wait, that one-year thing! I’ve told you multiple times I don’t agree to it!”
Espin held up her thumb to cover her ear.
“Yeah, I heard. I mean we can work out the detailed terms gradually. Anyway, want to grab lunch?”
2. Corner Table
They did end up going to lunch, and that was because Espin had made the proposal at a perfectly opportune moment—around 1 PM, when the aroma of tomato stew, sausage, and pretzel hung thick in the air—to someone who had arrived on the stagecoach on an empty stomach. It was absolutely not because she had agreed to accept the contract terms.
However, the two had entirely different criteria for choosing a restaurant. Maximian preferred cheap, established-looking places with large crowds, while Espin favored smaller, more distinctive establishments even if they were somewhat out of the way.
But compromise was not impossible. After bickering and turning down three alleys, they discovered a cozy crêpe shop wedged between two large buildings, its eaves forming an L-shape. The shop looked old, but the potted plants outside and the climbing roses on the walls were neatly trimmed despite it being a flowerless season. On the narrow façade above the eaves, the faint letters “Corner Table” remained visible.
“Places like that have good food.”
Espin said this while turning back, and Maximian was just opening his mouth to say the exact same thing. They stared at each other for a moment, then shrugged as if to say “Didn’t I tell you?” and went inside.
The restaurant was run by an elderly couple alone. Since it was past the main dining hour, they were the only customers. There were only seven tables, but the two still preferred different seats—a corner spot with a good view of the entire restaurant, and a seat where sunlight streamed in slightly and climbing roses were visible through the window.
After compromising and choosing their seats, they scanned the menu and this time, surprisingly, ordered the same crêpe. It was the “Crêpe of the Day”—dough folded into a square and filled with potatoes, cheese, ham, and cream. But their reasons for ordering were different. When the food arrived, Maximian took a bite and glanced at Espin. Espin also cut a piece, put it in her mouth, nodded, and asked.
“Good choice. Did you copy me?”
“You must have done it.”
“I didn’t?”
“Neither did I?”
They both opened their right hands and revealed their philosophies.
“The dish of the day is whatever sells best at this restaurant today, so it’ll come out quickly and the ingredients will be fresh.”
“At a new place, you should order basic dishes that don’t require much skill so you can judge the restaurant’s true quality.”
They tilted their heads and raised their eyebrows, then their expressions shifted to “Well, that makes sense too,” and they resumed eating the remaining crêpe. As Maximian ate, he observed Espin and noticed she had learned quite formal dining etiquette. After spending years as friends with the Young Duke, one naturally develops an eye for such things.
Maximian finished his meal in no time. After eating something delicious, people tend to become more generous, but Maximian returned to himself in a slightly different sense. While passing through places with memories one by one while borrowing someone else’s identity, he had felt like a shadow floating in empty air, but now he felt like he was back to being a detective in a corner of a tavern in Nenyaple. Only the location of the conversation had changed.
“So, tell me who you are first.”
Espin was still eating but answered with ease.
“Have you decided whether to find the gun or accept the one-year contract?”
“That depends on your answer. I don’t even know who you are. I could get caught up in a crime, couldn’t I?”
“Last time when you told me to hire you, you didn’t have that concern. Has something changed now?”
“An ordinary kid applying to Nenyaple suddenly chases me across the continent and appears right before my eyes—would anyone think ‘Well, that can happen’? Thinking about it, the fact that I’m having lunch with you right now is what’s truly surprising.”
Espin tilted her head as if finding it interesting.
“So you saw me as someone worth dealing with when I summoned Psyche and held a sword to your neck, but when I chased you across the continent, things are different. That’s what you’re saying.”
“Yeah. I got psychological trauma from someone chasing me like that, and I have aftereffects. But wait, you already knew that was Psyche?”
Espin kept her head down, suppressing laughter for a moment before responding.
“Would I have summoned it without knowing what it was or confidence in cleaning up afterward? Rather, isn’t it more surprising that someone attending Nenyaple doesn’t know what Psyche is?”
“Why did you have to pick a failing student? Go back to Nenyaplo and choose again from the beginning.”
“Ah, Nenyaplo is far. Never mind. I had a hard time getting here too.”
Espin set down her fork and waved her hand dismissively. Then she looked at Maximian intently and uttered something absurd.
“I’ll just have to make do with what I’ve got.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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