Chapter 7 | The Assassin Makes Romantic Advances
The three of us entered the capital. We used the gate made especially for nobles.
Those nearby undoubtedly saw us as three noble ladies touring the capital who were totally ignorant of the ways of the world. Our fancy clothes practically screamed that our families were wealthy with new money, but we didn’t have a single guard with us.
The royal capital may have had a reputation for being safe, but it was still foolish to walk around unprotected like this. We were also a group of beautiful girls—we stood out tremendously.
Typically, assassins wanted to avoid bringing attention to themselves, but this time, I was purposely standing out for the sake of my objective.
After entering the city, we ate lunch at a restaurant that catered to the nouveau riche and then chatted as we enjoyed sightseeing.
“That meal was so good. It had been a while since I’d eaten in the capital,” said Dia.
“It was delicious but also really, really expensive. I could use the money we spent to make an entire week’s worth of food,” replied Tarte.
Dia had enjoyed everything without a care, but Tarte couldn’t get over the price and wasn’t able to savor it at all.
I had chosen that restaurant intentionally to fit our performance as three foolish aristocratic ladies from upstart noble families that were prospering financially. It was the kind of eatery known for ripping off tourists. People familiar with the royal capital would never eat there.
Unfortunately, Tarte was as bad an actor as I’d thought she’d be. Her true feelings were breaking through the role she was supposed to be playing.
“I enjoyed it very much. It would be exhausting eating such posh food every day, but it’s nice to indulge every once in a while,” I stated.
Tarte’s and Dia’s smiles spasmed a little. They still weren’t used to hearing me talk like a woman.
I didn’t just change my manner of speaking. In order to complete my disguise, I had also made my tone of voice, gestures, and everything else as feminine as could be. I heard Dia whisper, “It’s scary how natural he sounds.”
One important detail was that my clothes were noticeably less expensive than my companions’. I’d designed our personas to be close friends, but they were a level richer than I. According to our fake IDs, however, I was from the highest-ranking noble family of the trio.
I gave my character this difficulty to garner sympathy from my target. I had rank but lacked funds. That matched the mark, who was from an aristocratic house but struggled financially. Giving yourself a background similar to your target was a fundamental method of earning compassion.
“I thought it was supposed to be hard to get into the capital, but that was really easy,” Dia commented.
“Yeah, we got in with our IDs alone,” added Tarte.
“Must I repeat myself? We aren’t here as simple tourists. We are nobility. Act the part,” I ordered.
The identification I’d procured actually belonged to real people. Many nobles had financial difficulties and wouldn’t hesitate to give you an ID in exchange for a bit of cash.
“Also, why do we have to wear such restrictive clothing? It’s hard walking around in a dress,” Dia complained.
“For goodness’ sake, this is the royal capital. We have to look our best, otherwise no one will take us seriously!”
Those were lines I’d written beforehand to demonstrate the vanity my character possessed despite her starved wallet. Not even aristocrats would wear such fancy and fettering attire while going around sightseeing. The only people who would think to dress this way would be country bumpkins visiting the capital.
“That’s not the only reason, right?”
I couldn’t answer Tarte’s question while remaining in character. I decided to use a wind spell called Whisper.
This magic delivered softly spoken words to the ears of the person you were talking to and also delivered their replies to you.
It enabled us to converse with each other under any circumstances without being overheard. Additionally, I’d trained Dia and Tarte to be able to speak while only barely moving their lips.
To other people, it only looked like we were walking in silence.
“I’m planning on slipping into a party being held by the man who is going to testify against me. I’m then going to woo him to get the two of us alone. That’s why I’m playing the role of a dumb and excited country noble,” I explained.
“…You know, it hurts a little that you chose yourself to play the role of seductress instead of one of us. We’re girls, in case you’ve forgotten,” grumbled Dia.
“I’m the most qualified. Also, one of you two hitting on another man is not something I want to see,” I responded.
“Ah-ha-ha, that makes me feel better about it,” Dia said.
“I’m happy to hear that, too. But the thought of you sacrificing yourself for us and doing…that to a man…” Tarte gulped.
“I’ll be doing nothing of the sort. The purpose of this disguise is to get him to take me to his room.”
“Ah-ha-ha, of course. That’s a relief.”
Was it my imagination, or did Tarte actually sound disappointed?
I’d spoiled Dia’s beauty with her makeup and hid Tarte’s large chest to ensure they wouldn’t receive sexual advances. That said, they’d be denied entrance to the party if they were outright ugly.
Knowing as much, I’d decided to halve their charms, aiming to make them attractive enough to gain admission but not so lovely that guys would hit on them.
By contrast, I’d made myself as beautiful as possible because I was playing the seductress.
I wonder if I should’ve done more to make them less enticing.
Tarte was charming and cute even without her chest, and Dia was beautiful even with dirtied skin and freckles. I regretted not doing more to diminish their looks.
“Parties are costly. He must be a very wealthy noble to be able to hold them so often,” mused Dia.
“You would think so, but that’s not the case with him. He’s actually holding these gatherings in an attempt to make money,” I said.
“Um, how can he make a profit from parties if they’re expensive?” asked Tarte.
Soirees were a source of headaches for nobles. They were obligated to hold them often, and any sign of stinginess would harm their reputations and make it difficult for them to move up through noble society. It was common for nobles to end up endangering their domains in their pursuit to show off to others.
This explained why Dia and Tarte found it difficult to believe he was holding parties to try to make money.
“To lower-ranking nobles and upstart merchants, attending the parties of noted noble families is a way to gain prestige. Many of them will spend exorbitant amounts of money to secure an invitation. Our target is from a famous noble family that has fallen to ruin. He’s struggling financially and is using his house’s past glory for profit.”
“Wow, I’m not a fan of selling your prestige as an aristocrat, but I’m even more stunned that anyone would think they could buy status with money.”
Dia was born a major noble, so she detested that kind of thing.
No matter what size fortune one had, it could not purchase dignity and tradition. That was why upstarts paid for connections to notable houses.
It went without saying that forming a bond with a ruined noble family would only make one a target of scorn in high society, but honor couldn’t matter less when it came to the struggle for supremacy among upstarts. They were okay with the status alone.
“There’s one more thing I don’t understand. Why is being a girl better for this job?” asked Tarte.
“Apparently, the rich people attending the target’s parties are ordering him to gather beautiful, well-mannered noble ladies, and he’s struggling mightily to do so. Bad rumors are spreading about him, which means most aristocrats won’t associate with him. The social climbers at his events believe that anything can be bought with money, so nobles are afraid their daughters will be treated like prostitutes if they attend. How do you think our target will react if he finds three beautiful and ignorant girls of high birth here to tour the capital?”
“…He would want to trick us into attending the party,” answered Dia.
“But does he have any idea we are here?” asked Tarte.
“I’ve got that covered. The spy I placed in the capital who found this information is also an aristocrat. He’s a relative of the owner of the ID I’m using. I had him tell our target that I slipped out of my home to visit the capital with two friends. As expected, the target took the bait. We’re supposed to meet him ten minutes from now.”
Preparation was the most essential part of assassination. The killing lasted only an instant, but how much preparation you put in beforehand determined the success or failure of the mission.
I had performed thorough research on the target and thought up every conceivable plan. Just like I always did.
A fountain on the city’s east side served as a popular tourist spot. The spy I had placed in the capital had told us to wait there.
I checked my pocket watch to see that it was the appointed time. I expected him to arrive at any moment.
“Ah, hey, Lulu. You got here before us. Are these your friends?”
Lulu was my female name. A pleasant-looking man with neat blond hair waved and ran over to me.
His name was Robert. He was the second son of a viscount. He idolized heroes and was an operative thoroughly devoted to me. The man behind him was the target.
He was the one who hoped to trick three ignorant noble ladies into attending his party so he could show them off to the wealthy attendees.
“It’s been a long time, Robert. Sorry about this. I know you’re busy with work,” I said.
“I’d do anything for you, my cousin. Are those two friends of yours?” inquired Robert.
“Yes, they both wanted to meet you. Their names are Torte and Dira.”
“Nice to meet you. I am Torte. Lulu has told me so much about you.”
“I’m Dira. It’s lovely to finally meet you! I’ve been so excited to visit the big city.”
“It’s not every day you see three girls this beautiful in one place!”
Tarte and Dia were calling themselves Torte and Dira, respectively. Those were the names on the identification papers I’d bought.
Robert and I were speaking as cordially as if we really were relatives who hadn’t seen each other for ten years. We looked as close as brother and sister.
We were putting on this charade to gain the trust of the mark.
Robert is just as useful as I expected. His acting is natural, and he’s smart enough to sense my intentions and keep the conversation going.
I decided we had made a good enough show of being on close terms. It was time to begin my assault.
“Robert, is this man an acquaintance of yours?” I questioned.
“Ah, sorry. He’s a friend of mine. He is the prince who is going to invite you into high society. That’s what you’ve always yearned for, right?” Robert said.
“High society? Really?!”
I saw a look of relief in the target’s eyes. He’d been seeking an aristocratic lady to meet the demands of the upstarts, and he had finally found one in me.
He was so dazzled by the bait in front of him that he didn’t doubt us for a second.
The target opened his mouth to speak.
“I will take it from there. I am Count Grant Frantrude, head of House Frantrude. It would be my honor to have you three at a noble party I am sponsoring tonight,” he announced.
At this point, the job was already 70 percent complete.
Okay, time to act like he’s deceiving me.
“You’re a count? But you’re so young! That’s amazing. High society in the royal capital… There will be halls with sparkling chandeliers, beautiful music, and graceful dancing! Ah, sorry. I got carried away. I’m from the country, where nothing shimmers at all. I’ve always fantasized about that kind of thing,” I said.
“No, there’s no need to apologize. Seeing you this happy makes coming here to invite you feel worth it. My soiree shall provide all that you seek and more. You are welcome to enjoy it to your heart’s content.”
“Thank you! See, Torte and Dira, I knew that dressing up was a good idea! A prince just fell for me!” I exclaimed.
Count Frantrude beamed. “I’m a lucky man, getting to meet three such beautiful ladies.”
I thought back on the information I had received about the target.
Count Grant Frantrude was in his mid-twenties, but as he said, he had already inherited his house. He was chosen to testify against me because he happened to be in Jombull the day I fought the demon.
That wasn’t the only reason, though. He was also a man who would do anything to restore his house to its former glory. As such, the mastermind judged him the perfect candidate who would listen unquestioningly so long as money was promised.
House Frantrude fell to ruin because of the previous Count Frantrude’s incompetence. He’d wasted a fortune pursuing his hobby of collecting works of art and then sold his family’s land to raise quick funds.
Had he been permitted to continue, House Frantrude surely would have perished. For that reason, the current Count Frantrude decided he needed to kill his father and seize control…and then went through with it.
Afterward, he tried to restore their finances by selling the works of art his father had amassed, but the majority of them were judged to be counterfeit. The young count couldn’t so much as pay off the interest on a loan.
He then set his hopes on using the name of House Frantrude to curry favor with the upstarts.
Personally, I didn’t look down on his efforts. He had resolve and an ability to get things done, and his actions were well-reasoned.
The method he had chosen was dirty, but the man knew it was his only option. Most importantly, Count Frantrude was keeping his house afloat, and he had decreased the debt. Judging by the results, he was in the right.
“Torte, Dira, please thank him. You want to go to a party in the capital, too, don’t you?” I urged.
“Thank you very much,” said Tarte.
“Wow, a party in the capital. I’m so happy,” Dia added. She sounded a little wooden, but not so much so that it risked exposing us.
Count Frantrude grinned, showing no signs of suspicion. I saw unconcealable ridicule in his eyes.
These upstart country bumpkins have no idea I’m just using them. That was probably what he was thinking.
He was utterly ignorant of what was actually going on.
The easiest kind of person to deceive was one who thought they were duping you. They lowered their guard because they thought themselves superior.
I began to probe Count Frantrude as we made small talk. By doing so, I noticed he was very into my look.
I gazed at him lasciviously. It wasn’t surprising that he liked me. I’d had Robert inquire about the count’s type before I arrived, and I’d constructed my appearance based on that information. My hair color and style, clothes, way of speaking, gestures, perfume, and the topics of conversation were all to his liking.
He was insecure about being a high-ranking noble poorer than the upstarts who attended his parties, fostering a pretentious attitude in him. To win sympathy, I played up my constructed background, which was similar.
During our conversation, I used the information I picked up to make minute adjustments to my character, further captivating Count Frantrude.
Talking to him has told me exactly what kind of man he is.
Count Frantrude wanted to be respected. He was ridiculed by his peers and seen as a clown who sold his pride to young social climbers in exchange for their money.
He was working himself to the bone using whatever means necessary to save his house from devastation, but even his kin were put off by his actions. He was suffering alone.
The envy of a noble lady with no knowledge of the world had to make him feel good. My flattery alone obviously pleased him.
I was positive that he would take me to his room with a little more sweet talk. Once there, I would make him into my puppet.
“Please follow me to my carriage, ladies. I will take you to my estate. You three are here as tourists, correct? I’ll have us take the scenic route.”
“Oh, that sounds wonderful. You’re so considerate. Are all men in the capital gentlemen like you? You’re like a different species compared with the ones back home.”
“Ha-ha-ha, I can’t say all men in the capital are like me, but I always treat women with care.”
The count was really warming up to me now.
I see: Being told that he is better than others makes him happier than simple praise.
That was probably a result of his insecurity. I decided I would shower him with what he wanted to hear. “You’re so much more graceful than those lowly upstarts. You’re a true noble, not just in title.” I would praise him profusely while degrading the people who caused him so much grief.
“Count Frantrude, could you dance with me at the party? I would love nothing more.”
“You’re a very assertive lady. I would be glad to.”
I was the only one he took by the hand when we stepped into the carriage. He left the other two to his subordinates.
The first step was a success. I had made an excellent first impression, and he took no interest in Tarte and Dia.
We all got in the carriage and were on our way.
This was an interesting situation. We were both liars who thought we were fooling the other person. It wouldn’t be much longer now until we reached the conclusion of our mutual deception.
It would be clear which of us was the better liar in less than half a day.
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