Memoirs of Your Local Small-time Villainess

After Scarlett’s talk with Raimond, things progressed smoothly. Scarlett and her entourage lingered near the outskirts of Sir Home’s camp while a steady stream of people arrived from Bridgespell. Among them were more of the duke’s men, the Followers, a handful of Solar Knights, and crown officials. None Scarlett recognized personally, but she kept an eye out where possible.

At one point, she found herself sought out by individuals clad in white robes and featureless gold masks, who were investigating the ongoing situation. Those were the Inquisitorial Auditors Raimond had warned her about.

Surprisingly, they weren’t as intimidating as one might have thought, though perhaps her noble status might have played a part in that. Still, she managed to evade much of their scrutiny, providing answers that adhered to the narrative she had agreed upon with Raimond. Mostly, that meant leaning on her cooperative relationship with Duke Valentino and her ‘expertise’ on demons to justify her actions and presence following the citadel’s emergence.

The Auditors did try to probe into her past encounters with demons, but she’d deflected by recounting that time she’d run into one with Kat outside Ambercrest, which seemed to satisfy their inquiries for the time being.

Once they ceased bothering her, Scarlett and her companions returned to simply waiting while recuperating their energy. It was somewhat fascinating to sit on the sidelines and witness the gradual expansion of the camp around them throughout the day as more people arrived to address the perceived crisis.

Which, in a sense, she supposed it was. But the crisis itself had already mostly passed.

Scarlett did note the absence of the Dawnbringers’ return to the camp. In fact, most of the people who remained in the camp were either the duke’s men and similar factions, while the Followers of Ittar appeared to proceed past the temporary camp, heading directly in the direction of Anguish’s citadel. Presumably, they had set up their own base there.

Raimond’s prediction that investigating the citadel would take a while seemed to be correct. The man in question had vanished after their conversation, likely joining his order in their ventures. Whether he was doing that under the guise of ‘Father Abraham’ or ‘Deacon Abram’ was uncertain.

While waiting for things to calm down, Scarlett immersed herself in the journal she had found in the Sunfire Shrine — the one penned by Arlene’s sister. It proved a decent enough distraction, sparing her from having to engage in pointless chatter. Although she didn’t mind the company of Allyssa and the others, it got somewhat tiring being cooped up inside a cabin with them for a prolonged duration, especially with some of the quirks she had acquired since arriving in this world.

At least it was noticeably quieter than usual, with Rosa spending most of the time asleep. The woman did wake up now and then, engaging in some light conversation with the group, but that was about it. Scarlett suspected that the others, particularly Allyssa, were intentionally avoiding heavy topics with the bard for now, which was understandable given the current circumstances.

Finally, after about a day’s wait and the second began, Scarlett judged that things had stabilized enough around the camp that their presence no longer mattered. New arrivals continued to flock in, now ranging from soldiers and priests to mages and wizards, but a semblance of order had emerged among it all. While Sir Home and his people acted as the local security, it was clear that the Followers and the officials serving the crown were the ones in charge.

Before departing, Scarlett sought out Sir Home to inform him of her intentions to leave. He wished her well, though she wasn’t sure how sincere he truly was, given their past interactions and what happened with the Abyssal Vilewyrm.

Having addressed any outstanding issues, Scarlett and her party set off, heading for Bridgespell. The trip itself was a slow but uneventful one, marked by a silence that was only broken by the occasional trivial conversation. Scarlett did spot Rosa giving her the odd, contemplative look when the bard wasn’t sleeping, but that was about it. She understood that the woman wanted to have a talk—so did she—but it would have to wait.

They reached Bridgespell in the late afternoon, greeted by its bustling streets, which were even busier than usual now. Scarlett imagined that it was likely a repercussion from Anguish’s citadel and the mess surrounding that. The immense structure was even visible here in the city from certain vantage points, and it would no doubt have caused a commotion when it first manifested.

Their first stop was the Golden Griffin Inn, where their lodgings were. There, Scarlett left the others behind while she headed off alone to Duke Valentino’s manor. Upon arrival, she was immediately ushered by a servant to the duke’s office. There, the portly nobleman awaited her, seated behind the large desk that dominated the room. His cane leaned against the wall behind him.

“Baroness Hartford,” the duke greeted as Scarlett entered. “Much has happened since we last spoke. I am beginning to question whether your presence itself is a portent of ominous things to come. It feels as if nothing but troubles have assaulted my city since you arrived.”

“Your Grace, it is good to see you are still in good health,” Scarlett replied, crossing the room and settling into an armchair across from him. “And I would think my presence should be considered a good omen, if anything, given my involvement in resolving several of those issues for you.”

“And see how much good that has brought me.” The man motioned to his desk, which was covered in paperwork and opened letters. He narrowed his eyes at Scarlett. “You, on the other hand, appear remarkably composed and unaffected by the events I heard you took part in.”

Scarlett detected a hint of reproach and annoyance in his voice, but she couldn’t exactly deny the accuracy of his observation. Despite her own exhaustion, that wasn’t any excuse for her to ignore her appearance when visiting a high noble.

In contrast, Duke Valentino looked as if he had been the one battling his way through hordes of demons just a couple of days prior, with a tired expression and a noticeable weight to his shoulders.

“I have been receiving constant reports from Captain Home and my men, but I still find it difficult to accept what I’ve read,” the duke continued, his gaze fixed on Scarlett. “Tell me, you who witnessed it with your own eyes. Is it true? Did legions of demons truly descend into this realm along with a structure hailing from the heart of the Blazes themselves? And was there truly an enclave of the Tribe of Sin involved? Here, in my domain?”

“Yes, Your Grace, it would appear that is the case.”

He frowned at her reply. “The emergence of that blasted thing—the ‘citadel’ or whatever it’s called—is most likely common knowledge among every noble in the empire by now. It’s a futile endeavour to try to conceal its existence,” he admitted after a pause, his expression grim. “So, tell me, Baroness. What are your terms for keeping silent regarding the enclave discovered in Crowcairn?”

Scarlett arched a brow. “You intend to keep its existence a secret?”

“Of course,” he responded bluntly. “For as long as I can. I have enough to deal with as it is.” His frown deepened into a scowl, his voice laced with frustration. “You cannot tell me you would act any differently had an enclave been found within your own lands. Especially if it was confirmed most of its members were successful in escaping after somehow conjuring one of the Six Viles’ strongholds into your domain.”

Scarlett considered him for a moment.

While people had recognized that the citadel had to belong to one of the Viles, it seemed no one was sure of which Vile yet, nor did they seem to understand the why behind it all. When she’d spoken with Raimond, the man had seemed to think even the Followers would have trouble unraveling the mystery entirely. Even if the involvement of an incarnate was suspected, without witnesses, discerning the truth would be difficult.

Crowcairn’s true identity as an enclave of the Tribe of Sin, however, would hardly stay a secret.

“His Majesty and the Followers of Ittar will no doubt be aware of the truth,” she said.

“Better them and those who know best to keep quiet and not attempt to use this against me than half the damned empire accosting while I’m extinguishing half a dozen other fires.” The duke glared at his cluttered desk, as if offended by its very existence.

Scarlett offered the man a polite, but restrained, smile. “I am of the belief that I only did my duty by assisting Your Grace. Had I known my silence on certain topics would have helped you even further, I would not have been averse to providing it without remuneration. However, if you are offering, it would be rude of me not to accept.”

The duke scoffed. “What is it you want? Gold?”

“Wealth is not something I lack. Instead, I would like to request a favor, to be traded in at a future time.”

“A favor?” His expression turned wary.

“Yes,” Scarlett said. “That should suffice.”

“…Very well,” he eventually conceded. “I think I might have shared a similar sentiment with you before, but the perception you have currently cultivated among noble circles truly could not be more misleading. There have been so many rumors about you going around these last few months that it’s nearly impossible sorting what is based in truth and what is simply some upstart baroness acting out of place.” Despite his stern tone, Scarlett detected a hint of grudging respect in his words. “From what I have personally seen, not even the most generous of those rumors paint an accurate picture of you.”

“Thank you for your honesty,” Scarlett responded evenly.

“That was not meant as a compliment,” he said.

“I am aware.”

The duke stared at her for a second, then simply shook his head dismissively. “What reasons you have for allowing those rumors to fester is beyond me, but it is hardly the strangest occurrence of late. I’ve been informed you also ventured into that citadel and did battle with the demons calling it home. Is this accurate?”

“It is.”

“So you are insane to top it off.”

“I prefer to frame it as a delicate balance of risks and potential rewards.”

“Delicate, you say? Baroness, I have it on good account that there is nothing ‘delicate’ about the manner in which you’ve dealt with things.” The conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door, which momentarily diverted the duke’s attention. Regaining his focus, he turned back to Scarlett. “I intended to speak with you for longer, but it seems we will have to conclude matters here for now. There are urgent affairs that demand my attention. Perhaps a more extensive talk can be arranged at a later date.”

The man rose from his seat, grabbing his cane for support.

“While you remain in Bridgespell, you’re welcome to reside in this manor,” he offered as he moved past the desk and headed towards the door at a steady gait. “The staff have been instructed to cater to any needs you and your companions may have. This household does not easily forget those who lend us their aid, even though I sometimes wish otherwise.”

Scarlett got up and followed him to the door, stepping into the hallway where two attendants were waiting. She turned to look at the duke. “Before we part ways, Your Grace, there is a lingering curiosity of mine. Have you received any updates from Dame Leandra regarding her mission to locate the First Princess?”

The man’s brows furrowed ever so slightly. “I lack the specifics, but it appears traces of Her Highness were discovered within the ruins you mentioned to Dame Leandra.”

“Is that so?”

Scarlett hadn’t been certain what to expect in that regard. That the princess had ventured into those ruins did align with some of her suspicions, but it was still surprising.

“I must take my leave now, Baroness. We shall meet again,” the man declared, staring down the hall with the support of his cane and accompanied by one of the attendants.

“Until then, Your Grace,” Scarlett said, watching him depart. “Oh, and you can expect an invoice concerning the demon’s part that was owed,” she added. “And rest assured, in case you harbored any concerns, I have meticulously recorded the potions that were distributed to your men as well.”

The man’s walk halted momentarily at her words, a faint grumble audible down the hallway, then he continued on his way without looking back.