Episode 12
Andel really was kind and gentle — the kindest branch manager around. But he was also an assassin. A smiling conversation partner could be someone who would quietly take your life.
“So that means… the people who worked there were all—”
Why did I have to walk into that place that day?
While Rania scolded her past self, Yurion jumped right back in.
“The Master won’t interfere with how the branch runs day-to-day. So if you want to keep your old customers, you can. No problem. Don’t worry.”
He didn’t mention the fact that some customers might be really uncomfortable or shocked. Rania wasn’t in a clear state to think all that through, so she sighed and gave up.
Yurion noticed her acceptance and smiled.
“Looks like you’ve made up your mind.”
“Everything’s irreversible, so I’ll accept it… At least the terms are okay.”
“You made the right choice. For now, run the café like normal, but tell customers you’ll be closed for renovations for a while.”
“Right…”
His words were polite, but Rania still felt uneasy. It wasn’t a person she could trust easily. She accepted Yurion’s bow awkwardly and tried to push aside the gloomy feeling.
It had been cloudy since morning, and now it was raining again. Rania wondered why the weather always turned bad when she went outside.
Enoch, hood up, clicked his tongue as Kanel — one of Night’s Eye’s officers — approached, waving a bloody dagger and talking excitedly.
“Master, you’re coming to Branch No. 8, right? I brought a bunch of delicious liquor, thinking of you.”
“Kanel — were you the branch leader of No. 6?”
“No — No. 5. Six is Kanhel. I’ve told you this like ten times. Will you remember it already?”
“Five or six, Kanel or Kanhel — same thing.”
“You’re so mean. I’ve been in the guild two years, and I counted — we’ve gone drinking together 142 times.”
“You actually keep track?”
“Of course I have a good memory!”
“That’s kinda gross.”
Kanel pouted at Enoch’s blunt reply. He’d joined the guild because he admired Enoch. He’d even been made a branch leader because Enoch liked him, but now Enoch was off to Branch 8 — and Kanel was jealous.
Enoch leapt up, yelling, “I’m going to Branch 8. My pretty is waiting. Tell Jerel to prepare.” Then he dashed off into the rain so fast he disappeared in a blur.
Kanel stood frozen, repeating “pretty…” into the downpour, stunned.
Enoch ran across rooftops and reached Plumeria Street in no time. His robe had a little magic for keeping him warm, but the rain soaked him through. Still, he rarely caught colds, so he didn’t care.
It was almost dusk, and the street was quiet — only Rania’s café had lights on, giving off a warm glow. Enoch walked in, and Rania — who’d been sitting by the fireplace — jumped up with a shriek.
“Ah!” she cried, grabbing the fireplace poker in alarm.
Enoch pulled back his hood. “Why are you so startled, pretty? Did you think I was a robber?”
“I thought you were a thief who came to steal!” Rania said, staring at his all-black look — understandable confusion.
She set the poker down, stepped closer, and asked, voice trembling: “Why aren’t you using an umbrella?”
“An assassin using an umbrella would look lame,” Enoch said casually.
“Assassin.” The word froze Rania. Had she really become involved with an assassin? Somehow she found that terrifying, even if she’d already accepted things.
She backed up like a rusty hinge and offered haltingly, “Um… shall I make you something warm?”
“Thanks. Oh — is the floor wet? Careful.”
“It’s fine. Yurion said he’ll clean it. Uh, please sit by the fireplace.”
Rania hurried to the counter, oddly aware of how long it’d been since she’d stood there. She reached for red wine, sugar, fruit, cinnamon, and nutmeg — making something like mulled wine. Enoch, watching her casually taking out booze, seemed a little surprised.
“You’re drinking again?” he asked.
“Uh — it’s not just wine. It’ll warm you up once it’s simmered,” she said.
“You drink even when you’re sick, pretty? By the way, I’m curious about something.”
Rania, startled, almost dropped the bottle and screamed a bit at the sight of him just standing there.
Enoch narrowed his eyes, sounding mildly hurt. “After sleeping in the same bed, you keep acting like we’re strangers. I’m disappointed.”
“S-sorry…”
“And we agreed to speak casually, but you keep using honorifics.”
“I can’t help it — I’m used to polite speech because most of my customers are older.”
“Oh. I thought you were cold to me because you were scared.” Enoch teased.
Rania nearly dropped the wine again. She gripped the bottle tight and forced a smile that made her jaw ache. “No! I just haven’t gotten used to it yet!” she said, cheeks flushed.
She stirred the pot with a ladle, thinking: she’d tried to accept this whole guild thing earlier that morning, but seeing her customers come in worried had made her anxious again. Then Enoch, dropping the word “assassin” had knocked the wind out of her.
Watching Rania breathe out a heavy sigh, Enoch called to her in a soft voice.
“Pretty.”
“…Yes!” she answered.
“I,t’s cute when you’re a bit cautious and a little scared.”
“…”
“But everything’s best in moderation. Too much of anything ruins the show.”
He tapped the table with his long fingers, like a casual warning and a reminder at once.
