Chapter 94
The square in front of the Arbern Palace, the capital of Bermark, was packed with people from early morning.
The reason was simple: they had come to watch the soldiers marching through the square on their way to the military farewell ceremony for those returning from the war.
Of course, the square wasn’t filled only with citizens there to cheer—it also teemed with merchants. Men and women, children and the elderly, all jostled together, making the plaza overwhelmingly noisy.
Then, the fanfare of the military band blared across the square.
At the sound announcing the march of Bermark’s soldiers, tens of thousands of citizens lit up with excitement, shouting cheers and waving.
These soldiers hadn’t fought in a war led by Bermark itself, but they had joined an allied conflict.
It was no small honor.
“Dad, look! They’re coming!”
“All right, I’ll give you a ride on my shoulders!”
A child, thrilled with excitement, perched on his father’s shoulders and laughed brightly.
The Bermark flag fluttered in the wind, and the golden instruments of the military band at the front sparkled in the sunlight.
Soon, soldiers in pristine white uniforms entered the square in precise formation.
The sight was truly spectacular.
As they marched through the path created by the parted crowd, every gesture was sharp, solemn, and disciplined—yet each soldier displayed their own warmth.
They waved to the crowd, shook hands with children reaching out to them, and smiled brightly.
It was a paradoxical mix of strictness and freedom.
Among them, positioned as an officer just behind the military band and at the forefront of the troops, was Henry.
He too felt his chest swell as he met the eyes of citizens—filled with awe, curiosity, and joy.
The march would continue all the way to the palace, and even as the soldiers moved out of the square, the cheering and applause continued unabated.
Inside the palace’s grand hall, adorned with dozens of chandeliers, the white-uniformed soldiers filled every corner.
As they entered, the drums and trumpets of the palace band resonated, now performing lively classical music.
Soldiers who had never attended such lavish events whispered excitedly among themselves.
“This is insane… it’s my first time in a palace.”
“You’re the first? I’d live here if I could. The royal family must hold events like this every day.”
“Look—there’s so much Delarub wine, it’s overflowing!”
Their excited chatter was cut short by Henry, who cleared his throat softly.
“Since we’re in the palace, don’t make too much noise.”
“Ah, sorry…”
At Henry’s reprimand, the soldiers immediately quieted.
Then, one soldier, still intimidated, suddenly recognized him and gasped.
“Wait, isn’t that Captain Bailey?”
Henry turned his head slightly.
“Yes, that’s right.”
“It’s an honor to stand with you, Captain Bailey!”
Henry Bailey of the Bermark Navy! He was a hero of the recent civil war, risking his own life to save soldiers and taking bullets in their place.
He had even carried the bodies of fallen comrades back to their lines, repeatedly putting himself in harm’s way.
His deeds were already widely known among soldiers.
Even as a lieutenant, he had performed such acts, and the admiral had personally promoted him to captain and granted him an extended reward leave.
Though he had requested that the stories not spread widely, most soldiers already regarded him as a hero.
Seeing a soldier recognize him, Henry gave a slightly awkward nod, expressionless.
“Save the small talk for later. For now, keep your eyes forward.”
“Yes, sir!”
From afar, Henry’s superior, Major Carl, smiled quietly. The discipline he demanded of his subordinates hadn’t changed.
If Henry continued to perform well after returning, Karl thought, there was no doubt he could rise to colonel.
He was clearly capable, even considering his current rank.
Carl glanced toward the VIP section in the hall, where the naval admiral sat, and clenched his fist briefly. Today, that was his goal.
For Henry Bailey to be promoted smoothly, he needed backing.
Rank alone wasn’t enough—it helped to have influence. In such strict hierarchies, humility often smoothed the way.
Once again, the military trumpet signaled the start of the ceremony, and the royal family entered Carl’s line of sight.
***
Seated in the VIP section, Dante raised an eyebrow, his gaze fixed on the same point he had been watching for some time.
Henry Bailey, at the head of the soldiers. Captain, was it? Not a lie, then.
Dante gave half-hearted replies to those attempting conversation with him, never taking his eyes off Henry.
Of course, he was annoyed that it wasn’t Riena he was watching—but some random man instead. Yet in the middle of the palace hall, he could hardly show his displeasure, so he forced a small upward curl of his lips.
From the very beginning, Dante had disliked this man’s eyes. What did he think he knew, showing that sort of distrust? Always lingering near her, whether in the café or around her home—constantly irritating, acting as if he knew something.
Slowly, Dante’s sharp instincts flickered to life.
…Does he know something?
His instinct, honed by years, signaled that this man might be linked to something Dante had long ignored—or never fully examined.
How had Riena, injured in the carriage accident in Behern, survived all the way to Florian?
Dante had suspected someone had helped her when they first met. It made sense. Whether or not she knew she was the Grand Duchess, someone had to have aided her.
Dante tapped his fingers against his leg, a bad feeling creeping over him.
Should he have questioned her about it earlier? Not urgently—he could have found out at any time. His mind had been occupied with uncovering the mastermind behind the carriage accident.
But if the person who helped Riena back then was Captain Henry Bailey… Dante’s golden gaze settled on him calmly.
He had circumstantial evidence but no proof. And few things drove a man crazier than that.
Dante narrowed his brow slightly.
A missing puzzle piece seemed finally within reach.
Although he had largely ignored the year after Riena’s escape, thinking it didn’t matter, her return had put her firmly back under his control.
Yet if someone had been involved in her past… that was another matter.
Of course.
How was this different from the carriage accident’s mastermind? Deceiving and hiding the truth.
So if someone had kept Riena hidden, preventing her discovery, Dante resolved to find that person.
And if that person was Captain Henry Bailey… he mentally began arranging several hypotheses.
Once the ceremony ended, he would send a telegram to Officer Evan Reims of the Behern Security Bureau without delay.
