A Journey Unwanted

[Realm: Álfheimr]

[Location: Heart Kingdom]

[Pulchritudo]

[Banquet]

("Playing thief is much more difficult than I was expecting.")

The thought passed through Gretel’s mind with a trace of frustration as she leaned against one of the banquet hall’s enormous pillars, one shoulder resting against the surface while she watched the endless movement of people around her.

She had expected the Duke’s estate to be extravagant. She had expected guards, nobles, servants, security measures and enough wealth to make stealing something valuable difficult.

What she had not quite expected was the sheer scale of the place.

The banquet seemed to stretch farther than it reasonably should have. Even after having already moved through several sections of the estate, Gretel still had not gained a proper sense of where everything connected. There were too many corridors, too many entrances, too many balconies and too many separate spaces occupied by guests.

And, more importantly, there were too many people.

Nobles continued to move through the banquet in clusters, their expensive clothing standing out far too much. Servants moved between them constantly, carrying trays of food and drinks, while musicians and performers occupied portions of the enormous hall.

Trying to discreetly steal something from this place was one thing.

Actually getting away with it was another.

Gretel’s silver eyes moved slowly across the room, taking in the people around her without allowing her attention to linger too obviously on anything.

("Not to mention they seem perfectly content to let me walk around with my weapon.")

Her gaze dropped briefly.

The rapier remained at her side, its presence impossible to overlook if someone actually cared to inspect her properly.

She rested her fingers lightly against it.

("I suppose they’re simply confident enough in their security.")

There was some logic to that assumption.

The Heart Kingdom soldiers stationed outside were clearly not ordinary guards. Gretel had already identified the heart emblem. Soldiers of that caliber would hardly be placed at the entrance of an estate without reason.

Yet she had seen remarkably few actual soldiers inside.

That was the strange part; there were servants everywhere. Nobles were everywhere as well. And the guests wandering wherever they pleased.

But soldiers? There were almost none. If there were hidden security measures, then they were hidden well enough that Gretel had not noticed them yet.

And that was precisely why she was still standing where she was.

If she were caught, there was no convenient explanation for why a wanted woman had been wandering around the Duke’s banquet carrying a weapon.

She was already taking a considerable risk simply by being here.

Her eyes shifted as another group of nobles passed; several of them glanced in her direction.

Gretel noticed, and she also noticed that most of their attention seemed to settle on the rapier rather than her face. That made sense; a young woman carrying a sword in the middle of an extravagant banquet was bound to attract some curiosity.

She didn’t particularly mind; compared to the possibility of someone recognizing her, a few suspicious looks were hardly worth worrying about.

("I wonder how Mi—") Gretel stopped herself. ("...Ella and Paimon are doing.")

She silently ignored the mistake; there was no point dwelling on it.

Her silver eyes moved towards the deeper sections of the banquet.

("Still, I should probably at least look for the Duke.")

She pushed herself away from the pillar.

She straightened her posture, adjusted the position of her rapier almost absentmindedly, then stepped into the flow of the crowd.

She would rather not hurry; even that would attract attention. Instead, she walked at the same comfortable pace as everyone else, allowing herself to become another person moving through the banquet.

Her gaze continued to work even as her expression remained neutral.

The extravagance of the estate became more apparent the farther she went.

The decorations were excessive, but they were not necessarily tasteless. Gold and clean stone were incorporated into almost everything. The tables were covered with elaborate dishes, expensive drinks and desserts arranged with enough care that some looked almost too perfect to eat.

And then there were the servants.

Gretel’s attention settled on them for several moments.

Most were demi-humans.

Cat ears, animal tails, different eyes, different features and different appearances. They moved quietly between the guests, carrying trays, pouring drinks, clearing plates and responding whenever one of the nobles called for them.

Gretel watched one young demi-human servant lower her head after a noble spoke to her.

The servant immediately smiled afterwards; it looked like a practiced action.

Gretel’s eyes narrowed slightly.

She wondered how many of them had actually chosen this work. Being a servant was not necessarily the worst occupation someone could have. She knew that. There were people who willingly chose difficult work because it gave them stability, food and a place to live.

But she had also seen the demi-humans outside the estate, the ones who did not have wealthy employers. The ones who struggled to afford basic necessities and who were forced to live with the reality of being considered second-class citizens simply because of what they were.

Gretel’s gaze lingered on the servants for another moment before she looked away.

("There is a lot wrong with the Heart Kingdom.") The thought came quietly. ("But there isn’t exactly an easy solution to any of it.")

She knew enough to understand that.

Changing a kingdom was not as simple as identifying everything wrong with it. Even if the people in power were somehow removed, that would not automatically repair the system beneath them.

There were laws, traditions, money and class structures. People who benefited from those structures and would fight to preserve them. People who suffered under them but had no means of changing them.

Gretel considered the thought for several seconds.

Then she gave a small shake of her head.

("But this isn’t something I could ever solve.") Her expression became slightly more distant. ("I have enough problems of my own.")

There was bitterness beneath the thought.

She had spent too much time worrying about things beyond her reach already. There were people in this kingdom suffering, she knew that. There were things she disliked about the Heart Kingdom, and she knew that too.

But she was not here to fix an entire nation; she was here because of a specific task. And, for once, she needed to focus on something she could actually accomplish.

Her silver eyes resumed their sweep across the banquet. She searched various faces, tables, doors, staircases and servants. Anything that might lead her towards the Duke, her attention passed over the enormous selection of food again.

Meats, fresh fruit, various breads, cheeses, pastries and glasses of wine and other expensive drinks. There was enough food here to feed an unreasonable number of people, and somehow the banquet still seemed to have more being brought out.

Gretel’s expression remained neutral.

Then her eyes landed on the desserts. She stopped; her silver eyes lingered on the collection of sweets for a moment longer than necessary. There were cakes, tarts, candied fruit and cream-filled pastries. Small decorative confections arranged in elaborate patterns.

Gretel’s expression soured.

"Too many sweets." She immediately turned her gaze away; there was no reason to look at them, no reason whatsoever.

She continued walking through the banquet, her expression returning to normal as she resumed her search for the Duke.

But then, amid the murmur of the banquet, Gretel’s ears picked up on something that immediately drew her attention.

"The Duke’s on the third floor?" a finely dressed man said, his voice carrying just enough for those nearby to hear. His brown hair had been slicked neatly back, not a strand seeming out of place. "Then we should hurry. If we wait much longer, we may miss our opportunity to speak with him."

"Hm. This could be an excellent opportunity to establish better relations with our house," the woman walking beside him replied. Her elaborate dress moved around her as she walked. She sounded pleased with the prospect, already seeming to imagine what such a meeting might accomplish for her family.

Gretel’s silver eyes followed them; she did not move immediately. Instead, she watched for another few seconds, paying attention to the people around them. The pair were not alone. Several other finely dressed guests had begun drifting in the same direction, some speaking among themselves, others simply moving with the same purpose.

Gretel’s expression remained composed.

("Huh. Getting a lead was a lot easier than I expected.")

She almost found that reassuring.

Her gaze moved between the departing guests before she finally moved. Rushing after them would have been too obvious; she waited just long enough for the distance between them to become larger, then began walking after them.

There were enough people moving through the banquet that she could disappear among them without much effort.

Even so, she remained conscious of her surroundings.

Every so often, someone glanced in her direction. Some looked at her face, others at the rapier resting at her side. A few seemed to linger a little longer than necessary before eventually returning their attention to their conversations.

Gretel paid them little mind.

Her attention remained fixed on the people ahead.

She followed them toward the stairs, only to notice that more guests were converging on the same route. It was becoming increasingly obvious that the Duke’s location was no longer a secret among the banquet’s guests.

Gretel sighed.

("If this many people are heading up there, I doubt actually meeting the Duke will be easy, even if I manage to reach the third floor.")

She slowed slightly, allowing another group to pass in front of her.

The sheer number of people seeking the Duke was almost amusing.

("Still...") Her eyes narrowed as she looked toward the staircase. ("I can’t help wondering what kind of person he actually is.")

She had heard enough about him already to form an impression, though none of it was particularly flattering.

Mikoto had mentioned him.

Goiim had apparently spoken about him as well.

And among the various things Gretel had heard, one detail had stayed with her more than the others.

("Mikoto said Goiim mentioned he liked younger women who still had their chastity intact.")

Her expression remained neutral, but there was a tightening around her eyes. That was certainly one way to make an impression.

Gretel continued walking, her gaze briefly drifting toward the people around her as she considered the information.

("Not exactly the best first impression.") She paused mentally over that thought, then another, a considerably more practical consideration, followed. ("I wonder if I could get his attention that way.")

The idea was hardly comfortable, and she knew that.

Still, if she was going to get close enough to the Duke to accomplish what she had come here for, she could not afford to ignore every possible method simply because she disliked it.

Her silver eyes settled once more on the staircase ahead.

She considered the possibility for another moment.

Then she shook her head, as though deciding there was little point in worrying about it before she even knew what sort of man she would be dealing with.

("Suppose I’ll find out.")

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