"Hey, stop disgusting me! Isn't anyone going to do something about this?"
"Mr. Instigator, I'll never forget your kindness! The moment I get the money, I'll come redeem you!"
"Tch, who needs your bail? How could I possibly end up in jail? Just watch."
Grin grinned smugly, leaned toward the edge of the prison cart, then crooked a finger at Reinhard.
"Reinhard, come here a second."
Even faced with such rude behavior from a prisoner, Reinhard showed no anger at all. He simply slowed his steps and came over to Grin's side.
"Mr. Instigator, may I ask what you need?"
Ever warm and approachable, Grin reached out and patted Reinhard on the shoulder.
"Ugh, what instigator? I don't know which bastard gave me that name. Just call me Grin."
"Very well, Mr. Grin."
"I actually want to ask you something. Something very important."
"Please, go ahead, Mr. Grin."
"Reinhard, do you want a blonde loli for a wife? Just say the word and I'll send her over right away."
The moment he heard that, Otto hurriedly pulled at Grin from behind.
"That's very rude, Mr. Grin. Offending a knight is the last thing we need right now."
Reinhard's expression did not change. He still wore that bright, easy smile.
"Thank you for the kind offer, Mr. Grin, but I have not given marriage any thought yet. The safety of the kingdom remains my highest priority."
Grin narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice.
"Not even if she's the surviving princess of the Lugunica royal family?"
For the first time, a faint disturbance passed through Reinhard's calm gaze.
A surviving princess?
How could that be?
In January of the forty-seventh year of the Lugunica calendar, the royal family had suffered its first case of that strange illness even Dragon Blood could not cure. By June, the last known royal, Farsale Lugunica, had died. In July, the Sage Council officially declared the royal bloodline extinct and initiated the Royal Selection. More than half a year had passed since then.
What troubled Reinhard most was that his Divine Protection, that near-perfect detector of falsehoods, had not indicated Grin was lying.
Either Grin had already sunk so deeply into his own lies that even his mind believed them—
Or what he said was true.
"Mr. Grin, I cannot pretend I did not hear that."
Reinhard's voice turned low and serious.
Grin knew well the ancient command of the Sword Saint's line: when the royal bloodline stood on the brink of extinction, the final seed must be protected at all costs.
"Sword Saint, instead of doubting me here, why not go and verify it yourself?"
As he spoke, Grin tossed Reinhard something roughly the size of a coin.
Reinhard caught it and looked down.
It was indeed the amber insignia used to identify eligibility for the Royal Selection. In the hands of a true candidate, it would shine like a dragon's eye.
"An insignia? Mr. Grin, are you asking to add theft of a royal treasure to your list of charges as well?"
"Pah! Why are you always trying to frame me? Is it so impossible that I rescued it while doing a good deed? Otherwise, why would someone that suspicious be chasing me?"
Grin was speechless.
How was this Sword Saint even better at pinning crimes on people than he was?
Reinhard seemed to realize the problem at once. He adjusted himself, then bowed slightly to Grin.
"My apologies, Mr. Grin. Please forgive my preconceptions. That was a failing unworthy of a knight. I ask that you set this aside and tell me where the princess is."
Grin nearly burst into tears.
He had no intention of rotting in prison.
Once the Sword Saint found Felt, the lost princess, and pushed her into the Royal Selection, everything would fall into place.
Felt was his best friend.
She would definitely pull him out of this mess, hand him promotions and wealth, marry him off to a rich beauty, and send him soaring straight to the top of life.
He would be the sharpest tip of the iceberg.
"This is important, so come closer. First you have to do this, then this, then after that you do that. You have to get the code right first, or the old giant won't let you in…"
Grin talked right into Reinhard's ear, and Reinhard kept nodding, not daring to miss a single detail.
Just as Reinhard was about to leave to find Felt, Grin suddenly called out again.
"Hey, wait a second, Reinhard."
"Mr. Grin, is there something else?"
Grin thought it over for a moment before speaking.
"That insignia belongs to a half-elf. Once you're done, remember to give it back. Don't forget one of the knightly codes—justice. You don't belong to either side yet."
Reinhard nodded solemnly.
"Thank you for the reminder, Mr. Grin. I swear on my honor as a knight that this insignia will be returned to its rightful owner intact."
His cloak fluttered once.
Then the swordsman turned cleanly and set off to search for the lost princess.
The remaining guards escorting Grin were left looking at one another, thoroughly confused.
The Sword Saint was gone.
So what were they supposed to do with these two nobodies now?
"Captain, I think we may have just heard something extremely important."
"Should we still arrest him or not? This instigator is probably deeply connected to that princess."
"You actually believe what Instigator says?"
"Even the Sword Saint believed him!"
"This is terrifying, Captain! Am I even going to make it home for dinner today?"
"What are you panicking for? We guards must remain impartial. Yes, that's right. Take him back first and wait for orders from above."
…
A short while later, inside the guard room of the royal prison, Grin and Otto sat across from each other at a square table, wine cups in hand, each drinking as though they had already forgotten they were prisoners.
The moment one of them drained a cup, a guard immediately stepped forward to refill it.
Otto's face was already flushed red from drinking, so he quickly cut off a piece of meat and stuffed it into his mouth to steady himself.
"Master Grin, you're incredible! This doesn't feel like prison at all. It feels like a luxury inn."
He let out a satisfied sigh as he ate.
It had been a long time since he had a meal this good.
The reason for all this was simple.
The prison guards were now firmly convinced that Grin was somehow tied to the camp of a royal candidate.
One of his crimes was lacking identification.
But on second thought, what if that simply meant he was on some secret mission where his identity could not be exposed? Papers could always be supplied later.
As for frightening the people and causing panic, that part was true enough. Quite a few children had indeed been scared badly by his stories.
Still, even if that offense were judged at the strictest possible standard, the worst likely outcome would only be expulsion from the capital and reassignment to hard labor at the frontier.
These kingdom guards all considered themselves minor people living minor lives.
If the faction backing Grin actually rose to the throne, then today's prisoner might become tomorrow's trusted minister.
No one wanted to offend someone like that.
"Following you, Grandpa Grin, how could I ever go wrong? Nom nom."
Grin played dead with his face, but his mouth never stopped moving. In truth, he had also been hungry for quite a while.
"Waaah, Master Grin, thank you so much. Nom nom."
Otto, full of gratitude, grabbed a plate of pastries and started eating with both hands.
One guard standing nearby stared in shock and muttered under his breath,
"These two are complete pigs…"
"Pig? Where's the pig? If there's one, bring it out! Give my brother Otto some real meat! Let me tell you, Otto, back in the day, your brother here was a force to be reckoned with. I could swallow an entire pig in three bites!"
Drunk already, Grin had misheard the insult completely.
"Keep it down, you idiots."
"Captain, how long are we supposed to keep them locked up? At this rate, if they stay for a month, we'll all starve."
"Shut up. I already sent the report. It won't be long."
…
[Mini Theater]
Bang bang bang.
Knocking at the door.
Old Man Rom: How do you deal with a giant rat?
Reinhard: Use poison.
Old Man Rom: How do you deal with the White Whale?
Reinhard: With a fishhook.
Old Man Rom: And how do you deal with noble dragons like us?
Reinhard: …Go eat… go eat… go eat something filthy—!
Old Man Rom yanked the door open and roared, "You want to eat shit, you miserable bastard? Don't go changing my password on your own!"
Reinhard: …Can't I choose not to eat it?