I exhaled slowly, my grip on my own spoon relaxing as tension drained from my shoulders.
That had been too close.
Scarlet remained frozen for another long mont, then slowly reached for her bowl and resud eating with shaking hands.
Agnes watched the door where the hunters had exited, her expression troubled.
"They’re so desperate," she said quietly. "Why would His Grace go to such lengths for just one servant?"
She shook her head slightly.
I shrugged, taking another bite of stew and chewing thoughtfully before answering.
"That girl could be special to him sohow."
I looked at Agnes as I said it, watching for her reaction.
But she didn’t reply. Just kept eating.
Scarlet shot a glare from beneath her hood, her amber eyes narrowed with clear irritation at being discussed like she wasn’t sitting right there.
I ignored her pointed look and finished my al, scraping the last of the stew from my bowl with a piece of bread.
The silence stretched between us again.
Finally, I set down my spoon and leaned back in my chair, the wood creaking slightly under my weight.
"So where should we go next?" I asked, looking between them.
Scarlet’s head snapped up.
"How would I know?" she hissed, keeping her voice low. "You’re the one who dragged us out of the city. You figure it out."
I turned my attention to Agnes instead.
"Agnes?"
She was staring at her empty bowl, her hands folded primly in her lap.
"Anywhere is fine, Young Master," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Then she added, muttered so quietly I almost missed it entirely:
"It’s not like my opinions matter now anyway."
I opened my mouth to respond, but she stood abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor.
"I’m tired," she said, still not looking at . "I’ll retire to my room now, if that’s acceptable, Young Master."
"Agnes—"
But she was already walking away, heading toward the stairs with quick, precise steps that spoke of years of servant training and careful composure.
I watched her go, frustration bubbling in my chest.
What the hell did I do wrong?
Scarlet was watching now, her amber eyes glinting with sothing like amusent beneath her hood. Her smirk was visible even in the dim light.
"You really are useless at this, aren’t you?"
I shot her a glare but didn’t respond.
Instead, I stood abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor, and headed for the stairs. I gestured curtly for Scarlet to follow without looking back to see if she obeyed.
Her soft footsteps behind confird she had.
We climbed to the second floor where the innkeeper had assigned our rooms.
The hallway was narrow and dim, lit by a single oil lamp at the far end that cast flickering shadows on the walls.
I stopped at Agnes’s door and knocked quietly.
"Agnes. Can we talk?"
Silence greeted .
Then, after what felt like an eternity compressed into seconds: "Co in."
I pushed the door open slowly.
The room was small but clean. A single bed against one wall with a thin but apparently clean blanket folded at its foot.
A washbasin on a wooden stand in the corner, a mirror above it. And a narrow window overlooking the street below, currently showing nothing but darkness and the occasional flicker of lamplight from other buildings.
Agnes sat on the edge of the bed, her posture absolutely perfect. Hands were still folded in her lap.
Scarlet followed in without waiting for permission, closing the door behind us with a soft click and imdiately moving to lean against the wall in the corner.
She crossed her arms over her chest, settling in to watch whatever drama was about to unfold with the interest of soone observing a performance.
I stayed near the door.
"Are you upset?" I asked carefully, keeping my voice gentle. "Did I do sothing wrong?"
She looked up at .
"No, Young Master. I’m fine."
I said nothing, just waited, holding her gaze.
Silence settled between us.
She sighed finally.
"Won’t we be going back to the Raith estate? I thought... I assud once you’d completed your business in Greyford, we’d return ho."
I shook my head slowly.
"Father won’t be happy having you back there," I said honestly.
"You know how he is. He made it clear you were... unwelco."
I glanced at Scarlet, who was watching our exchange with guarded interest from her corner.
Then I looked back at Agnes, eting her eyes.
"Also, I have sothing else to do first. Before we think about going back."
Agnes raised an eyebrow, confusion flickering across her face.
"Sothing else, Young Master? What could be more important than returning to the estate?"
I took a breath.
"Where does your mother live?"
She blinked.
"What?"
I shrugged.
"I said I’d help you, didn’t I? With her treatnts. With everything she needs."
"So where does she live? If it’s nearby, we’ll head there next."
Agnes stared at , her mouth slightly open, completely frozen.
For a long mont, she didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
Then her eyes began to glisten, moisture gathering at the corners.
"You... you’re serious?" Her voice cracked slightly, the careful control finally breaking. "You actually ant what you said? About helping her?"
"Of course I ant it." I frowned slightly. "Why would I lie about sothing like that?"
A single tear escaped, running down her cheek before she quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand.
"Because—" She stopped, shaking her head. "Because, I thought, maybe you just..."
She couldn’t finish the sentence.
"She lives in Oakre," she said finally, her voice thick with emotion. "A small village about two days’ travel west from here. Near the border territories."
She stood suddenly, crossing the small room in three quick steps.
Then threw her arms around , hugging tightly, her face pressed against my chest.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice muffled against my shirt. "Thank you, Young Master. Thank you so much."
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