MLHBMH 08

Chapter 8

I Was… Tricked Again

After leaving the mansion and entrusting the rest to Dillon, Herald headed toward the shopping district he used to frequent when he lived in the capital.

This area was lined with shops that mainly catered to commoners rather than nobles.

Most nobles avoided such places—they considered them filthy and noisy—but Herald was different. He liked the smell of real people here, the lack of pretense and vanity that filled noble circles.

He walked slowly down the street, taking in the sights. It had been nearly four years since his last visit, yet nothing had changed. Maybe that was why the place felt so comforting, almost like returning home. Even the rowdy laughter of drunkards spilling from taverns sounded familiar and warm.

“Hey! You drank my liquor—now pay for it! Why aren’t you paying?!”

A sharp, irritated voice pierced through the hum of the night. Someone, it seemed, had been drinking without paying. In this district, that wasn’t unusual. Herald would normally have ignored it.

But something about it caught his attention. He turned his head.

In front of a shabby little inn stood a stout middle-aged woman in an apron, shaking the shoulders of a slender young woman and yelling at her.

Her hair fell like a curtain, hiding her face, but Herald recognized her instantly from her clothes.

Lilyana Benjamin.

That woman again.

He hadn’t expected to see her here, of all places—and for the second time that day.

They say three coincidences make a fate. He wondered if his meeting Lily tonight was one of those fated encounters.

Smiling faintly to himself, Herald watched the scene unfold. Lily’s head was bowed low, while the innkeeper continued to scold her.

“You really don’t have a single coin? How can that be? You’re dressed like a lady, but you’ve got no money? Why drink if you can’t pay for it?”

Judging from the woman’s words, Lily had apparently drunk at the inn without paying. What nerve—to drink when she had no money. Herald was both puzzled and intrigued.

It was past nine at night. For a noblewoman to be wandering here, drinking without money, there had to be a story behind it.

“Where do you live, girl? Who are your parents? Or are you married? Then call your husband—let him come!”

Her expression, when she finally lifted her head, was so empty, so dark, that she looked ready to throw herself into the river running through the capital. Herald sighed softly and decided to step in.

“Excuse me.”

The innkeeper turned with an annoyed look—then froze. Her scowl vanished the moment she saw Herald’s refined, handsome face.

“Oh! And you are…?”

“I’m here to take my lady home.”

“Your… lady?”

Instead of answering, Herald glanced at Lily. The woman followed his gaze—and her eyes widened in shock.

“Oh dear!” she gasped, quickly releasing Lily’s shoulders.

Deprived of support, Lily staggered and collapsed. Herald caught her before she hit the ground, pulling her into his arms.

The distance between them shrank. A faint scent of apples touched his nose—fresh and crisp, like fruit not yet fully ripe. Despite being “drunk,” there was no stench of alcohol.

He frowned slightly. She was clearly intoxicated, her eyes glassy and unfocused. She seemed completely unaware of where she was.

Just how much had she drunk?

As he examined her, the innkeeper began babbling nervously, trying to excuse herself.

“O-oh, so she was a lady! I thought she was from some merchant family—never imagined she was nobility! We don’t usually get noble ladies around here, you see!”

Herald gave a small, understanding smile. “That’s reasonable. I understand completely.”

The woman exhaled in relief, patting her chest.

“How much did she drink?”

“Not much! Just… three mugs of beer?”

Herald blinked. Only three? To him—a man who could drink strong spirits all night without getting tipsy—that was almost absurd.

“Here. For the beer.”

He handed the woman a gold coin. Her eyes went wide—one gold coin was worth a hundred shillings, enough to buy nearly a hundred mugs of beer.

“Keep the change.”

“Bless you, sir!” she said, grinning from ear to ear.

“Cancel the room she rented,” Herald added.

He glanced briefly toward the inn. It was a rundown place, the kind of establishment even commoners avoided. That Lily had planned to stay there was… unthinkable.

“Did she bring any luggage?”

“No, nothing at all.”

“I see.”

So she hadn’t run away with her belongings—then why had she come here at all?

He looked down at the woman in his arms, limp as a doll.

“Then I’ll be on my way.”

She was light—so light it didn’t feel like carrying a person at all. It bothered him for some reason. Frowning, Herald walked slowly down the busy street, cradling her carefully.

After flagging down a passing carriage, Herald directed it to the Frasis Hotel, an upscale building near the main square.

He had considered taking Lily back to Baron Benjamin’s mansion, but given the circumstances—her drinking, her lack of money, her attempt to rent a room in such a place—he decided against it. Something was clearly wrong at home.

Throughout the entire ride, Lily said nothing. No questions about where they were going, no resistance—nothing.

If this was her drunken behavior, it was dangerous. The wrong kind of man could have easily taken advantage of her.

Better to turn into a loud, unruly drunk than to become this silent and defenseless.

Frasis Hotel was one of the most luxurious in the capital—off-limits to commoners no matter how much gold they had. Its exterior gleamed, and the lavish interior spoke of wealth and polish.

On the top floor, Herald secured the royal suite, then set Lily gently down on the sofa and poured her a cup of water.

“Drink this,” he said.

“…”

“It’ll help sober you up.”

“…The innkeeper said the same thing.”

Her unfocused eyes drifted toward the cup. Then she drew her knees up and rested her face against them, murmuring faintly:

“She said drinking helps when you’re sad… but it didn’t.”

So something had happened. Probably related to her husband, Baron Fredrik Benjamin. That would explain why she’d left home and gone to such a shabby place.

“I don’t know what happened,” Herald said, “but drinking until you can’t stand is dangerous. And drinking when you can’t pay—that’s a crime.”

He spoke matter-of-factly, pointing out the truth.

At that, Lily lifted her head. Her blurred green eyes met his, reflecting him back at himself.

“I didn’t want to drink,” she murmured, lips trembling. “But she kept telling me to. I said I didn’t have money, but she said it was fine…”

Her soft red lips moved slowly as she spoke. Herald’s eyes drifted down to her shoes as she went on.

“So I drank… but then she suddenly asked for money… and when I didn’t have any, she got angry…”

Her words slurred and faded as her voice weakened. Herald couldn’t catch everything, but it was enough to piece the story together.

“She tricked you,” he said simply.

Lily blinked. “She… tricked me?”

“Yes. You were scammed. Happens a lot in places like that.”

People saw someone naive and well-dressed, assumed she was an easy mark, and swindled her out of whatever they could.

Her eyes widened, trembling like leaves.

“I was… tricked. Again. I got tricked again…”

Her voice quavered with anxiety, shame, and despair. Herald frowned. Something about her tone made him uneasy—like he’d touched a bruise he shouldn’t have.

“Why does everyone keep lying to me… what did I do wrong…?”

Tears welled up in her wide eyes, then spilled over, running down her cheeks. She buried her face in her hands and began to cry, repeating, “What did I do wrong… what did I do wrong…”

Herald stared, startled.

He wasn’t used to this. Women had cried in front of him before, but those tears were always fake—ploys to gain his favor.
Lily’s tears, though, were real. Raw. Painful to watch.

He didn’t know how to comfort her. Normally, he would’ve ignored it—but something stopped him. Maybe guilt, maybe pity. After all, he did feel partly responsible.

With a quiet sigh, Herald set down the cup and sat beside her.

“Don’t cry,” he said gently, patting her back.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. The ones who deceived you are the ones to blame. If it were me, instead of crying, I’d be thinking about how to make them pay for it.”

It was clumsy comfort, but it seemed to work—her trembling slowly eased.

Lily lowered her hands, her tear-streaked face turning toward him. Her moist green eyes, the same color as unripe apples, shimmered in the light—and in them, he saw his own reflection.

“…”

Something in that gaze stirred him again—something he couldn’t name. Before he realized it, Herald found himself slowly reaching out his hand toward her.