Chapter 15
Chapter 16: Divergent Perspectives on a Single Soul
It was impossible. Surely, no member of the sovereign bloodline could be this flippant. Classie fought to suppress the unsettling theory before it could take root.
The effort was futile. Once the seed of doubt regarding Dernick’s true station had been planted, every detail began to align with terrifying logic.
Suspicion possessed a unique gravity; the more she tried to dismantle it, the more it pulled everything into place. His casual deceptions, that reckless air of authority, the way he issued commands as if by birthright, and even his strikingly polished features—all of it pointed toward the untouchable arrogance of the imperial house.
“Is my question forbidden?”
When the silence stretched too long, Classie repeated herself with pointed intent.
“Why the sudden curiosity? Are you finally falling for my charms?”
Dernick rested his face against his palm, his tone dripping with playfulness. Usually, such a remark would have sparked her temper, but today Classie felt only a cold shiver of dread. The dark reputation of the reigning Emperor loomed over her thoughts like a shadow.
Rather than snapping at him with her customary sharp tongue, she forced her voice into a soft, melodic register.
“I merely wondered, given how well you seem to know Sir Kishin.”
Dernick didn’t miss the sudden shift in her demeanor. He straightened up, his eyes gleaming with fresh mischief.
“My dear merchant, exactly how many different personalities do you keep tucked away?”
The man was insufferable. Classie wondered if he was physically incapable of letting a moment pass without a jab. She gritted her teeth, fighting to keep her expression neutral. Regardless of whether royal blood ran through his veins, her distaste for him remained absolute.
She reflected on the poor soul who might one day become his wife. A man this self-absorbed would surely drive a partner to the brink of madness within a single afternoon.
Thankfully, Kishin intervened, drawing her focus away from his companion.
“The Kalashi line carries the Maakei heritage, if I recall correctly?”
“That is accurate,” she replied quickly.
“And your family has been rooted in Greengold City for several generations?”
“Yes, that’s right!”
The anxiety regarding Dernick’s identity was instantly replaced by a sharper, more immediate fear. How could a high-ranking officer from the capital possess such specific knowledge of her provincial family? Had he been digging into her history?
Panic began to pulse in her chest. While the Kalashi name was honorable, it was stained by the ugly rumors that followed her eldest sister’s passing. The world believed Classie had sent Mary over the edge of a precipice to her death. That lie had poisoned her social standing so thoroughly that she had been forced to flee her home.
Now, sitting across from a man she found genuinely compelling, she felt the weight of that scandal. If he knew her family, he likely knew the gossip that defined her.
“What brought you to the capital with only your niece for company, Miss Classie?”
The tension in her shoulders vanished—at least partially. If he was asking the reason for her move, he clearly hadn’t heard the darker version of the story yet. Still, she wasn’t entirely at ease. The rumors were the very reason she was here, and she wasn’t ready to revisit that trauma.
She wanted to wait until a foundation of real trust existed before explaining the tragedy of her sister.
“There were… various factors. Nothing of great importance,” Classie said, her voice trailing off as she focused intently on her dinner, avoiding his eyes.
“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to pry into sensitive matters.”
“No, please don’t apologize. It was just a mix of things. Besides, I’ve always admired the capital. I visited once with my sister years ago, and the city left such a lasting impression.”
She realized she was rambling, her nerves getting the better of her. To her horror, she realized she had been the one to bring up her sister after all her efforts to avoid the topic. She mentally cursed her own loose tongue.
Kishin remained impassive, but the reaction came from an unexpected source.
“You mean Sister Mary?”
Dernick looked up from his meal, his face lighting up with recognition. The suddenness of it caused Classie to fumble, her fork clattering onto the table.
“The sister you traveled with—it was Mary, wasn’t it?”
“Yes… that’s her name,” Classie stammered, her mind racing. She couldn’t fathom how this stranger could speak of her sister with such familiarity.
They had only spent a brief window of time in the capital a decade ago. While Mary had attended a few high-society functions, she had never stayed long enough to establish deep roots.
“Mary Kalashi acted as a savior to Dernick,” Kishin explained calmly.
“A savior?”
Classie’s confusion only deepened. She had no memory of Mary ever mentioning a young man she had rescued or mentored.
“In what way?”
She scrutinized Dernick. He seemed to be her contemporary in age. To her knowledge, Mary’s only charitable work involved the elderly back home.
“It’s quite a tale,” Dernick said, though he offered nothing more. He seemed perfectly happy to grill her with questions while offering nothing but cryptic hints in return.
However, Classie found she couldn’t summon her usual irritation. There was an earnest, almost reverent sparkle in his eyes. He looked less like a provocateur and more like a devoted follower of her sister’s memory.
Feeling overwhelmed by his intensity, she shifted her chair slightly away.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Classie,” he said, dropping the formal ‘Miss Weapons Dealer’ for the first time.
“What is it?”
“I’m searching for a specific item among Sister Mary’s personal belongings.”
“An item? Like what?”
“It’s… a trifle awkward to describe in public.”
Classie gave him a look of profound skepticism. His phrasing made the request sound far more scandalous than it likely was. Had he not looked so genuinely star-struck, she might have suspected some illicit past romance between him and Mary.
“If you want my help, you’ll have to be specific. I can’t find a mystery,” she said, her voice regaining its sharp edge.
Dernick, undeterred by her coldness, pressed on with fervor.
“If I could just look through her things, I’d know it the moment I saw it. Would you permit me to examine her mementos?”
He leaned in closer. “I told you before, didn’t I? You’re like a divine vision, Classie. The only reason I flagged down your carriage that night was because it seemed to be radiating light.”
“That isn’t true. And besides, I don’t actually have any of her belongings with me.”
“It was the only carriage on the road, you little merchant,” he countered with a grin.
Classie felt a surge of genuine frustration. Aside from her niece, Merran, no one had ever managed to get under her skin quite like this.
A soft sound of amusement drew her attention. Kishin was watching them, a small smile playing on his lips. She felt a flush of embarrassment; she was being treated as a comedy act in front of the one man she wanted to impress.
She shot a final glare at Dernick before smoothing her expression into a polite mask, reminding herself that he might be royalty.
“Most of Mary’s things went to Merran. You’ve met her, haven’t you? You two seemed to have a lot to discuss in private.”
Dernick let out a heavy sigh.
“Then I’ll have to deal with Miss Merran. That’s a problem. That little lady is quite the gatekeeper.”
Classie turned back to her food, acting as though the conversation was over. If Dernick had been even slightly more tolerable, she might have invited him over to speak with her niece. But after he had effectively ruined her evening with Kishin, she felt no desire to be helpful.
When the meal concluded, Kishin offered her a ride in the official guard transport. Classie declined, explaining that her own driver was nearby. She kept the truth to herself: if she arrived home in a Palace Guard carriage, Merran would never stop prying into her private life.
As Classie’s carriage rolled away, the two men began a slow walk toward Kishin’s home. The cool night air settled around them as they discussed the woman who had just left.
“I’m fairly certain our merchant friend has a crush on you,” Dernick teased, nudging Kishin. The officer didn’t flinch.
“And what about your motives? You don’t hold any affection for her? You wouldn’t be out here at night if you didn’t,” Dernick continued, tugging playfully at Kishin’s cloak.
Kishin offered no verbal reply, but his silence spoke volumes to his friend.
“I knew it! You’d have denied it instantly if there was nothing there. You’ve always been blunt about your feelings. This silence is a confession, isn’t it?”
“I find her lack of pretension quite refreshing,” Kishin finally admitted, his voice low.
Dernick practically skipped with joy.
“I saw her potential from the start! Who would have guessed she’d be the one to thaw your icy heart? You owe me a great debt, Kishin. If this blossoms into something more, remember that I’m the one who brought you together.”
“You mean after you committed identity theft by stealing my badge? You are truly shameless.”
“The end justifies the means, doesn’t it? Personally, I think Classie is charming. There’s something very endearing about the way she tries—and fails—to act like a sophisticated lady of the world.”
Kishin walked on, pondering the two very different versions of the woman they had just seen. One saw a refreshingly honest soul; the other saw a clumsy, adorable attempt at coy behavior. He frowned, his mind drifting back to the moment she had looked away, her voice trembling slightly as she mentioned the ‘circumstances’ that brought her to the city.
