I Start with a Bad Hand!

 “Somehow, I knew her behavior was despicable.”

“And her looks too…”

What’s wrong with my looks, you bastards… The rumor, whose origin was unknown but had some circumstantial evidence, quickly spread through the academy.

“Degoph, is it true?”

“What? Are you asking if I’m involved in an incident that might have happened because the Elexion Ducal House couldn’t even recognize their own child?”

“Uh… no…”

However, the rumor died down just as quickly. There were several reasons for this. First, since it involved the Ducal House, the academy students approached the matter with caution. Additionally, the people from Elexion didn’t say much about it. Surprisingly, even Cedric didn’t.

‘If I were him, I’d be too embarrassed to even bring up such nonsense.’

Moreover, with the vacation approaching, everyone was busy preparing to go home. In fact, some students had already left the academy earlier than scheduled.

“What makes her so brazen?”

“…”

“What’s with that intense gaze?”

Most of all, one reason was that despite the rumors spreading, I acted nonchalantly around the academy. It wasn’t just me. My friends were also unfazed by the rumors. More precisely, we had the composure of those who knew more of the truth.

“Hey, just reveal it already. That you’re really a noblewoman.”

Agnes urged me. In any case, our provocation towards a member of the Lord Ferris barony, who still remained at the academy, had succeeded, making the situation more favorable for us.

‘So right now, it’s more urgent to find the connection between Hayden and the Lord Ferris barony.’

For now, I asked Icarus, who had relatively easy access to noble information, to find out more details about the Lord Ferris barony. Any incidents, family relations, or any minimal connections they might have.

As usual, Agnes and I were on the scene.

“Is it done?”

“Just a moment…”

I whispered anxiously as I kept watch. Agnes was squatting in front of Hayden’s door, pressing her ear close to the keyhole with a serious expression. After furrowing her brow several times as if something wasn’t going her way, she finally stood up, clapping her hands twice.

“Done.”

“Done? Already?”

With a slightly smug expression, Agnes turned the doorknob. With a click, the door opened smoothly. Instead of replying, I gave Agnes a thumbs-up, and her already slightly cocky head tilt now reached almost 90 degrees.

‘That skill is really useful…’

She could probably rob the entire academy dormitory. But perhaps what’s more remarkable than her skill is Agnes’ self-restraint. She could become a master thief if she wanted to, but she seems content with just helping out by picking locks in the dormitory.

“…Seriously, don’t ever tell anyone about your ability.”

“Who would I tell about this?”

I nudged Agnes, who was smirking, in the side for no reason, and looked around the corridor again. The deserted corridor was completely still, not even a breeze.

‘Since Icarus confirmed that Hayden left the academy… he probably won’t be back for a while.’

Unlike when she opened the door, Agnes now looked tense as she held the doorknob. I, too, had never sneaked into someone else’s room before, and my hands were slightly clammy with sweat. We exchanged glances briefly and carefully entered the dorm room. As soon as we opened the door, an unpleasant sensation hit us.

‘Ugh. What’s with this herbal smell…?’

The dark dorm room was filled with a strong scent of herbs. Despite the room not being particularly small, the heavy odor made us both cough simultaneously. The source of the smell was quickly found: a corner of the room was filled with a container, perhaps an ashtray, overflowing with cigarette butts. Agnes and I were speechless for a while as we stared at the nearly hemispherical mound of spent cigarettes.

“What on earth was he smoking so much for?”

“It’s a type of cigarette smoked in Sereti. But usually, only old people smoke it.”

“Where do you get all this information? Ugh, the smell is terrible. We can’t air this out, can we?”

“No, that would definitely tip him off that someone had been here.”

The cigarettes weren’t the only problem. The room was almost entirely cluttered. The floor was strewn with glass bottles of unknown contents and items that appeared nonfunctional.

‘Are those all alcohol bottles? What is a minor doing with all this?’

I shouldn’t judge, having broken into someone else’s room, but the entire place was filled with elements that would irritate anyone. Among the clutter, there were also suspicious-looking bags containing white powder.

“What’s this? It’s probably not just dust flying around in here.”

“Who knows, but… Hey! Why are you tasting it?”

Despite my protest, Agnes tasted a bit and mumbled nonchalantly.

“It’s flour.”

“…Flour? Who keeps flour in their room?”

“Exactly.”

Feeling a bit let down, I scanned the room again. From the bed to the floor and even the desk, clothes were scattered as if they were cigarette butts on the ashtray. Walking on tiptoe to avoid the items on the floor, Agnes muttered, “Why not just hire someone to clean this up?”

‘I didn’t expect him to be this dirty, even though he didn’t look particularly tidy.’

I moved some clothes off the desk onto a chair and started searching the desk. Surprisingly, the desk was relatively organized compared to the rest of the room. Flipping through the piled textbooks one by one, I found that the books were completely new, without a single note.

‘Why come here to study if you’re not going to study? What does he do all day?’

After restoring the books to their original state, I opened the drawers. The unlocked drawer slid open smoothly. From a distance, Agnes, who was still searching for clues, whispered.

“Hey, there’s nothing here. Just clothes and trash. Ugh, and so much dust.”

Agnes’s face was filled with disgust as she used her fingers to toss aside Hayden’s underwear. I glanced her way before continuing to open the drawers under the desk. The second, third, and fourth drawers contained either trash, stacks of unused paper, or were completely empty. As I swept through the papers, I asked Agnes.

“Under the bed?”

“Under the bed too. Ugh, dust… huh?”

Agnes, who had crawled under the bed covered in clothes, suddenly let out a surprised exclamation.

“What?”

“It’s clean.”

“Clean?”

“Yeah, under the bed is really clean. Almost no dust. How is that possible? This room is such a mess. There’s nothing on the frame either. Wait a minute.”

While keeping an eye on Agnes as she groped around the floor under the bed, I felt a different texture in my hand.

‘What’s this? Why are these papers so wrinkled?’

Among the stack of papers, which were not exactly crisp but still smooth, a few stood out as being particularly crumpled. They weren’t just a bunch of papers that had been soaked and dried; these sheets were mixed in with the other, more intact papers.

“Hey! There’s something stuck under the bed!”

At her words, I quickly put the papers back in the drawer and turned towards the bed where Agnes was clinging like a cicada. Muttering to herself, she focused and soon pulled out a small box with a dangling lock. After examining the lock for a moment, she loosened her fingers.

“This is easy. Piece of cake.”

In less than a few seconds, Agnes had the lock undone. Inside the box were several unlabeled glass bottles and a brush.

“What the heck? A brush?”

“Just pack it. Did you bring the empty bottles?”

“Yeah. Hang on.”

As I discreetly transferred the contents to the empty bottles, Agnes sniffed one closely, her nose almost touching it. Even as I tried to pull the bottle away from her face, she followed it closely.

“Hey, don’t go around tasting and sniffing things you don’t know.”

“What’s this? Lemon?”

“What?”

“It smells a bit citrusy.”

I cautiously sniffed the small bottle Agnes handed me. Sure enough, it had a strong citrus scent, like lemon.

‘Lemon juice? Why would he store this?’

Despite our find under the bed, we found nothing else particularly suspicious. We scoured every inch for hidden compartments—under the desk, beneath the chair, behind the curtains, even the bathroom shelves—but found nothing but a lot of dust.

“Is that everything? There’s nothing else?”

Suddenly, Agnes, standing in the middle of the room with her hands on her hips, spoke to me, looking despondent.

“Wait a minute. There’s still one place we haven’t checked.”

“What? That’s impossible. We’ve checked every nook and cranny.”

Agnes nodded slightly towards the floor, indicating the cluttered, trash-strewn surface. As I stepped around, I noticed a particularly creaky spot. Unable to contain my curiosity, I asked, “…How did you come up with that idea?”

Agnes, nonchalantly clearing away clothes and tapping the floor, replied, “People who have a lot to hide usually do.”

I stopped asking further questions to avoid delving too deeply into her family’s business. At that moment, a hollow sound resonated from beneath my feet. Silently pointing out the spot to Agnes, she hopped over the piles of clothes and joined me. Examining the wooden floor, we found a small hole, unlike the rest of the room.

“Something to pry it open with… Oh, here it is.”

Agnes handed me a long rod from her bag. Using it, we carefully lifted the wooden panel to reveal an unremarkable box. The only distinctive feature was that it had, “Two locks?”

Agnes and I exchanged glances, and then she deftly opened the double-locked box. Inside was another box, secured with a complex lock. I heard her knuckles crack as she prepared to tackle the second lock. Despite her grumbling about the effort, Agnes quickly opened it. Inside was something unexpected.

“A letter?”

“It looks like it. Yeah, it’s a letter.”

All that trouble for a single, thin letter seemed almost comical given the elaborate security. The old letter, made of fine material, crinkled at the slightest touch. But as I began to read it, what struck me first was the handwriting.

“This is…”

A handwriting I had seen once before. The owner of the letter. As I stood there, speechless, Agnes snatched the letter from me and quickly scanned it.

“Hey, look. The handwriting isn’t from that boy who visited the wig shop… Wait… but the name here is…”

The handwriting did not match that of the left-handed boy from Heylem and the wig shop. Yet, Agnes fell silent, just as I had. It was handwriting we had seen countless times before. The record left by someone no longer in this world.

“To Cedric.”

The handwriting belonged to the former Duchess of Elexion, and it was addressed to Cedric.