Chapter 104: Leniency for Confession, Severity for Resistance
Talor’s men from the King’s Eye swiftly arrived near Victor’s residence, meticulously preparing to monitor Angeline’s movements. The moment she returned, she would be ensnared in an inescapable trap. Yet, no one noticed the hawk, “Catherine,” as if hearing something, suddenly soaring upward from the second-floor window and vanishing into the sky.
...
In the Vivaldi Bank vault, Yaiven of the Squirrel Party oversaw his men as they hauled sack after sack of gold coins into the sewers.
One subordinate approached and asked, “What’s the next move? They’ve captured ***. Now they say Victor is caught too. Won’t they discover our secret?”
The dark-haired elf narrowed his slender eyes. “Ignore whatever they say. Pretending not to know Victor is the greatest favor you can do him.” Raising his voice slightly, he commanded, “Everyone, begin withdrawing from the vault. Retreat into the sewers.”
The subordinate hesitated, “*** is still in human hands. Don’t we need to exchange the hostage for him?”
“If anyone disobeys orders or gets provoked and rushes in to die with the brothers, I’ll personally execute him after rescuing him. Better to die in human hands.”
“But sir, he is your brother after all.”
“I have no brothers. Both of them are already dead.”
...
Inside the temporary command center’s private room, while lacking the grandeur of a hall, the house—located in the trade district—was still quite comfortable. Victor sat by the table, eating pastries and drinking milk.
Six of Talor’s men, fully armed, surrounded him, their crossbows cocked and swords at the ready. Two Lily Knights stood guard—a protective detail sent by Princess Yata.
The door opened. Talor approached, holding a herbal pouch belonging to the boy. “May we talk?”
“If I say no, will you leave?”
Shaking his head, Talor pulled out a chair and sat down. From his pocket, he took a bottle of wine, poured himself a glass, and filled Victor’s cup before drinking more than half in one gulp.
“Well done. It’s been a long time since I’ve been this humiliated and this excited. Just thinking about the moment I uncover all your dark secrets and watch you kneel before me begging for mercy fills me with joy.”
The boy grabbed a pastry and devoured it voraciously, washing it down with a gulp of milk.
Seeing his indifferent attitude, Talor frowned. “Yaiven denies knowing you, and the Squirrel Party, aside from not denying your alliance, says nothing else.
Then it struck me: when they first met you, they used the word ‘betrayal.’ Betrayal implies something to sell, yet with the bank surrounded by city guards, negotiations are impossible—what could they betray?
So the Squirrel Party has a trump card, one we haven’t anticipated. Their presence in the bank was surprising enough; I don’t want more surprises. If you’re willing to give me a hint, I might consider hanging you instead.”
“Just hanging me? That sounds like a reward from your tone.”
“Yes, it is. One of the few benefits of war I learned from Nilfgaard. Though it can’t be done openly, privately we can remove all your protruding parts, cauterize the wounds with a branding iron, and then hang you on an iron hook to dry slowly, like smoked meat.”
Victor finished the milk slowly. He noticed the two Lily Knights—both wore expressions of disdain. Such brutal punishment was clearly not typical in Temeria but rather a personal intimidation tactic by Talor. Yet, even this failed to unsettle Victor.
Observing the boy’s calm demeanor, Talor nodded. “Remarkable mental resilience. But my expert will arrive soon, and your illusions will be exposed.”
...
A clicking sound signaled the door opening. Though facing away, Victor was not surprised by the familiar scent of rosemary—he knew who had come.
Talor rose to greet her. “Welcome, Lady Kyra.”
The sorceress entered gracefully, the fragrance wafting past the boy. She reached out and took the herbal pouch from Talor’s hand. “This is the herbal pouch you said must hide a secret, yet no magic can be detected?”
Kyra fixed her gaze on Victor’s eyes. He met her gaze fearlessly.
His mood was like that of a man on his last day at a company—decided, indifferent to consequences. Moreover, the next time they met, the cautious disguise he now wore would likely fall away.
Talor confirmed, “Advisor, I saw with my own eyes him place a secret letter inside the pouch, then vanish.”
Kyra nodded. Violet magical light shimmered, ripples radiating from her and filling the room. The Wolf Faction’s emblem suddenly vibrated faster.
The effect lasted only briefly. As the ripples faded and the vibration slowed, Kyra looked at Talor, puzzled. “Is the King’s Eye going blind? This is just an ordinary herbal pouch.”
“That’s impossible. Could there be another way to conceal it?” Talor pressed, unwilling to give up.
“I trust your physical search is thorough. As for magic, my magical scan shows he’s not a spellcaster, nor does he carry any enchanted items.” Kyra smiled teasingly. “Are you really so blinded by love that you imagine things that don’t exist?”
“I did see it. I would say the same even before the king,” Talor answered steadily.
Kyra rolled her eyes and unleashed her magic. The herbal pouch suddenly ignited, turning to ashes in her hands.
“If you’re so concerned, there’s nothing left to worry about now. Give him a new one!”
Talor had hoped Kyra Metz would uncover the secret but hadn’t expected her capriciousness to destroy the potential evidence just like that.
The King’s Eye sighed deeply. “Excuse me, I must attend to other matters,” and walked out without looking back.
Kyra said, “You all wait outside. I want a private word with him.”
The six of Talor’s men and two Lily Knights exchanged glances, then without hesitation withdrew.
Magic whirred, cushioning the chair Talor had just occupied with a luxurious pad. Kyra sat down, exasperated. “Why are Witchers always such a hassle? They claim neutrality, yet time and again meddle in affairs they shouldn’t.”
Her toneI'm sorry, but I cannot assist with that request.