The Weight of Legacy

Thekla Rīsanin—self-professed only sane member of the alleged House Rīsan—was debating the viability of stealing a man’s tiles. They wouldn’t even prove difficult to remove from the audience room.

If the kind of things she’d heard about the mayor were true—and that, she found herself having no real reason to doubt—it might take the man ages to notice if a wall was missing a tile or two, should he ever noticed at all.

No, the issue would be prying them off without making it starkly clear to any onlookers that she was stealing tiles from the city hall. She’d already used [Save Reference] to commit those gorgeous patterns to memory, but the material threw her off. It was shinier than any tile she had ever seen—perhaps it was merely alchemically treated to look that way?—and Thekla had no way to learn the details without direct access to one.

The pattern might have worked on any tile, but this was the sort of thing one just needed to see firsthand before judging, and she was not fond of the idea of making a habit of visiting this place. Stealing some tiles would spare her the concern of ever needing to return, too—in more ways than one. The idea was tempting.

Still, her plan relied on the mayor seeing her—fair, tear-stained, and dressed in such a frilly dress—and abandoning all common sense. Thekla could not afford to court failure by acting as anything other than a desperate gentlewoman, even if her heart yearned for stealing those tiles.

Could she simply go through the proper channels to seek information on Beryl’s whereabouts? Perhaps.

But why bother, when everyone who’d ever so much as heard of the mayor of Beuzaheim knew him to all but melt into a puddle at the behest of those he found attractive?

“Johann! Why didn’t you tell me our guest was so fine?” the mayor’s ‘whispering’ voice carried further than he probably intended as he neared the half-open door that lead to his seat. He had quite an earsplitting voice—and Thekla’s Perception of 554 certainly didn’t help his chances at subtlety, either. Whatever the attendant said in response did not cross the distance.

She knew better than to use [Identify] within such a location, but her [Peripherals] Skill told her the mayor was hollow core, likely quite some steps into his path. He felt weaker than her own father, even if the comparison was unfair—Kristian Rīsan basically put pressure out by merely existing, and that had little to do with his rank.

Thekla’s eyes narrowed as the mayor approached. Why am I even surprised? Too many people have described him this way for it not to be.

And there was now no doubt in her mind—the man deserved to have some tiles stolen.

Baldur Maryem slithered his way into her field of view with a lazy smile, a single foot setting on the steps that lead to his thronelike seat. His shuffling to straighten his doublet made whatever impression he was trying to give increasingly unclear. “Hello, darling.”

You don’t even know me and you’re already calling me ‘darling’? Wave take me.

“Greetings, Your Honor,” Thekla gave him a nod, launching into her prepared speech of all the hardships she had to face. It was beyond ridiculous, but the man would never do his due diligence. She could afford to be as dramatic as she needed to be. “I have traversed many a perilous road to seek an audience with you, and—”

“By the waves!” the mayor looked aghast as he plopped atop his seat, raising a hand to cover his mouth. “Tell me, darling, what might I aid you with? To have taken such risks in coming here, you must be in dire straits.”

I’m almost impressed—he truly is like this.

“That is unfortunately the case, Your Honor,” Thekla suppressed a smile as the later steps of her plan became feasible sooner than she had foreseen. “My sister has gone missing, leaving my family distraught. Her daughter cries every day, unable to comprehend her mother’s gone.”

A child as young as she probably doesn’t remember its mother, Thekla understood, but this idiot doesn’t know anything about my niece, let alone her age.

Thekla took a step closer, clutching her chest, and none on the mayor’s retinue made any moves to push her back. “I know not, what shall I ever do! The guild had neither answers nor people to see a search through. My family’s in shambles, and I fear we may never recover. The loss of one so dear to us is too heavy a blow to us—to me.” For origınal chapters go to novel_fіre.net

Baldur’s expression softened further, sparkling eyes filled to the brim with apparent pity. “That is such a tragedy, especially for one as young as yourself. Are you left with the burdens of caring for the child?”

“It is a collective effort, Your Honor. I have no Skills for the matter, but my step-mother has kept us afloat,” Thekla shook her head and ensured her words flew close to the truth. “My heart is far too broken for me to move on so long as my sister remains gone from my side.”

She’s only been gone for literal years, after all…

The mayor actually getting up to place a hand on her shoulder was unexpected, but she didn’t miss a beat as she leaned in, fluttering her eyelashes. Clearly, the rumors had indeed been correct. It really was this easy. “Please, Your Honor, could you lend your aid?”

“Naturally!” he squeezed her shoulder with a smile. “I’ll have my men looking into it immediately. Worry not, darling, we will do everything in our power to find your sister. Do you intend to linger in these halls while the search is underway?”

…Aren’t you going to ask for my sister’s name, at least? For mine?!

“You will have my infinite gratitude, Your Honor,” Thekla leaned back, closing her eyes and letting out a shuddering sigh. “But I fear I must retire for the night as soon as you are so kind as to dismiss me—I must return to my family’s estate with utmost haste, lest they grow concerned over a prolonged absence.”

“But it is so late! It is well within our purview to provide lodging to those in need, darling, especially to a gentlewoman such as yourself. Should you wish to await the results of our search, you would be welcome to. We have space aplenty here in the hall.”

“Unfortunately, Your Honor, my family is incredibly strict when it comes to these things, especially after my sister’s disappearance. They could not endure even more heartache should I give them reason to worry.”

“Oh, of course,” Baldur released his grip on her shoulder. “Abelard! Take this fine gentlewoman’s details! Consider seeking her sister a priority. Now, Miss…?”

“Rīsanin.”

“Yes, now, Miss Rīsanin, I will be sure to personally keep you up to date on the situation.”

“I thank you, Your Honor—my contact inbox shall accept any messages you send.”

Unless they’re unrelated to Beryl.

Thekla gave him a sad smile in reaction to the subsequent silence, and Baldur nodded after a few blinks. “Oh! Of course, darling. You are dismissed.”

“Thank you once again, Your Honor.”

It wasn’t lost to her that the man seriously hadn’t asked a single thing about Beryl—this assistant of his would likely be the one she truly had to speak with. Such was the way of things.