467: Salty

467: Salty

“Captains!” two Purple Cloak soldiers jumped to attention and saluted Flavna and Gamesh as they briskly walked through the corridors of Belmot’s Fortress, Iron Peak.

Gamesh acknowledged the soldiers with a smile while Flavna walked past them as if they were furniture. As captains, Flavna and Gamesh had private rooms both in the barracks and in the fortress itself and that was when Flavna was headed, followed closely behind by Gamesh. The entire time Flavna kept a stern, unapproachable expression all the way until Gamesh closed the door of her private room behind them.

“AAAARGH!!!” Flavna finally let out her frustrations as she ruffled her hair. “They’re like lice I can’t get rid of!”

“You do remember that you could slaughter them all in a blink of an eye?” Gamesh asked humorously as he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. “Despite what Grizwald would like to believe.”

“Don’t insult me,” Flavna said without even a hint of a smile. “Had you not proven yourself a hundred times over, I’d have you flogged for such words.”

“Your loyalty to this family is superhuman,” Gamesh smiled, clearly not concerned with potential flogging.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

“What is superhuman is the stupidity of the parasites that Belmot surrounded himself with!” Flavna said as she walked to a table that had several half-full plates with smoked and salted meats, among other things. She grabbed a slice off a large plate, bit into it aggressively, and ripped it apart as if the meat was at fault for her frustration.

“You are cute when you’re stress eating,” Gamesh chuckled.

“Don’t ruin this any further,” Flavna said as she devoured the first slice she grabbed and reached for a second. “It’s already disgusting as it is.”

“I’ve been saying that for years.”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” Flavna bit into the second piece of meat and spit it out almost instantly. “Who the hell salted this!? Can nobody do anything right?”

“I’m guessing the problem is not oversalting?” Gamesh asked.

“Absolutely foul!” Flavna dropped the spoiled piece back on the plate, then lifted the whole thing to smell it, only to put it back down with utter revulsion.

“Salt supplies are all but gone,” Gamesh said. “I’m guessing they hoped to get away with using less.”

“Ugh,” Flavna dropped into a chair and sighed even deeper than Belmot did earlier. But instead of Belmot’s sweaty restlessness, Flavna finally let show her exhaustion. “Any word from our contacts in the palace yet?”

“No, complete silence,” Gamesh said as he suddenly dropped his light-hearted tone. “It is also something that I would like to confirm, but rather than just our contacts, I’ve yet to hear of a single person exiting the palace since last night.”

“A reaction to what happened in the mines?”

“Without more information, I’d just be speculating,” Gamesh shrugged.

“Indulge me,” Flavna asked.

“Even if the guards and some among the royal family were worried about their safety when they inevitably heard about the demons, it might make sense to tighten the security and temporarily close their gates for their protection. But it’s not like they have demons on their doorstep. Why prevent people from leaving? There are more than enough perverts within those walls that daily frequent certain establishments who would strongly object to any unfounded lockdown.”

“Assuming there is a lockdown,” Flavna reminded.

“Which is why I’ve sent additional soldiers there to make sure,” Gamesh said.

“All the more reason to make the princess talk.”

“Be careful with that,” Gamesh warned. “Once she refused to talk with us, our options became highly limited. Unless you really want to lose your head. Our thinly veiled ‘protection’ excuse is just that.”

“Bloody Mary has always been a troublesome one and not just for us,” Flavna said. “And Felicia was quick to place all the blame on the princess, at least some of which appears to be legitimate, according to the witnesses. If she was somehow the one to blame for all those deaths, then it doesn’t matter if she’s a princess or not.”

“Not to you, but—”

A knock on the door interrupted Gamesh.

“Pardon me, I have an urgent message from the Pits,” a man spoke from the other side of the door.

“!? Come in!” Flavna said.

The door opened and an exhausted, sweaty Purple Cape soldier walked inside. It was clear that he ran all the way here.

“Well?” Gamesh asked.

“Erm,” the soldier took out a note and read from it. “The third daughter of His and Her Majesties, Princess Samira, would like to thank Purple Capes for their swift actions in saving lives during the underground massacres as well as their investigation into the demon appearance. To that end, princess Samira has decided to kindly offer her help and talk with some of the witnesses herself.”

“So much for nobody leaving the palace,” Flavna said as she glanced at Gamesh. “And where is she now?”

“S-she went into the Pits after handing me this message,” the soldier said quietly and shrunk down bracing for whatever was to come.

“And the guards just let her in!?” Flavna jumped up. “On whose authority?”

“Princess Samira gave the guards five seconds to guide her to the prisoners or die where they stood,” the soldier answered.