A Snake’s Life Ch 89

Chapter 89

 

When Shuiren found out that Zerpell always bought flowers from this shop, he hastily handed only a pouch of money to Wol and rushed out. Wol, face flushing red, tried to chase after Shuiren, but the florist’s timely announcement that the bouquet was ready stopped him. He paid the full price and exited the shop with the bouquet in hand. Once outside, Wol looked around for Shuiren, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Shuiren’s name slipped from Wol’s lips in a hollow voice.

“Lord Shuiren?”

Thinking Shuiren might have returned to the carriage, Wol approached Paul, only for Paul to respond with a question of his own.

“He didn’t come back?”

“Didn’t he go with you?”

Both Wol and Paul looked at each other in confusion before realizing that Shuiren had vanished. In the brief moment they were distracted, Shuiren had disappeared. Their faces turned ashen, pale as corpses. They hurriedly searched every corner around the flower shop, but there was no sign of him. Shuiren’s unique appearance would normally stand out, but he had changed his appearance with magic, making it difficult to describe him accurately to others. Just then, someone claimed to have seen him.

It was the owner of a shop across the street. She was cleaning her windows when she spotted Shuiren and informed Wol.

“Oh, if you’re talking about the man who was standing next to the flower shop a little while ago, yes, I saw him.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes, it looked like he was giving someone directions. There was a woman holding a map and looking quite lost.”

“Do you know which way they went? He’s part of our group, and he’s gone missing. Even a small clue would help.”

“Well… I didn’t see clearly, but I saw the woman who asked him for directions head into the alley. It’s a place most people avoid…”

The shopkeeper glanced around cautiously, then gestured for Wol to come closer.

“There are rumors about that alley—bad people are said to frequent it. You know how talk spreads in the capital, right? A lot of people go missing. I just thought I should tell you, just in case.”

“…Thank you. I’ll go check that area.”

The shopkeeper gave Wol a light pat on the back, encouraging him with a worried look. Wol’s eyes sharpened. Missing… He wanted to believe it wasn’t the case, but he was certain that Shuiren had gotten entangled in something out of the ordinary. Paul also returned after his own investigations, shaking his head, having found nothing useful.

“…It might be a kidnapping.”

“What?!!”

“We need to inform the palace and ask for help.”

Declaring the urgency, Wol urged Paul to hurry. To move faster, they detached the carriage and each mounted a horse, heading straight to the palace. The gatekeeper was startled by the sight of the galloping horses and shouted.

“Stop right there!!”

“It’s urgent!”

Wol tossed the gatekeeper a badge proving he was a knight and sped through. They didn’t stop until they reached the Crown Prince’s residence, dismounting swiftly. The horses were panting heavily. A passing attendant spotted them and blinked slowly in confusion. Ignoring the attendant’s bewilderment, Wol spoke in a loud, clear voice.

“Please summon Lord Ian! Paul, go to the commander immediately!”

“Yes!”

Paul rushed off to find Cedric, and the attendant, sensing the urgency in their expressions, didn’t ask for details. Everyone in the palace knew they were Shuiren’s guards. The attendant hurried off, fearing something had happened to the Lion himself, and returned with Ian shortly after.

Ian, who had been sorting documents, was startled by the commotion and opened his window. A knock followed almost immediately. At the sight of the attendant’s grim expression, Ian felt a chill down his spine.

He looked out the window again and saw Shuiren’s guards—but not Shuiren himself.

Ian immediately reached inside his clothes and, feeling the familiar object in his inner pocket, dashed outside. Standing face to face with Wol, Ian demanded in an agitated tone:

“The attendant filled me in—did you get separated from Lord Shuiren?”

Wol answered with silence. Soon, Cedric arrived, led by Paul. Ian rubbed his forehead and quickly took out the pocket watch from earlier.

Just in case, Zerpell had added a tracking function to Shuiren’s necklace. The pocket watch showed Shuiren’s location as a red dot. Ian’s brow furrowed even deeper.

“Thankfully, he’s still within the capital… But this is odd… he’s near the outskirts…”

“There’s a possibility it’s a kidnapping, based on the circumstances.”

Ian’s expression turned icy. He was one of the few who knew about the casino incident. Without hesitation, he handed the pocket watch to Wol.

“…This will show Lord Shuiren’s location. Follow it.”

“What about informing His Highness?”

“I’ll go to His Highness myself. You take the knights and find Lord Shuiren.”

“Understood!”

The palace was thrown into a midnight emergency. Cedric was the fastest to move, setting out immediately to inform Zerpell. Attendants prepared horses and saddles, and knights were urgently summoned. The Third Order of Knights was fully mobilized to search for Shuiren.

Zerpell was listening to a noble’s story with a bored expression. The nobles were trying hard to curry favor with him, but his mind was elsewhere.

He was distracted by worries about Shuiren. Today was Shuiren’s first outing. Shuiren had a headstrong personality and tended to rush into things, which made Zerpell uneasy. Normally, he would have never permitted it, but he already knew why Shuiren had wanted to go out.

Lately, Shuiren had seemed troubled and had even gone through the tribute pouch—something he hadn’t looked at since becoming human. He had deliberately hidden it by placing it high up on his back, out of sight and reach. Though Shuiren proudly believed he had concealed it perfectly, Zerpell had long since noticed the subtle dimming of light on his back.

On top of that, Shuiren still hadn’t broken his habit of talking to himself. He would mutter, “A gift, huh…” and sometimes ask pointed questions like, “Is there anything you’d like to receive?”

Watching Shuiren gaze quietly at the gift Zerpell had given him, Zerpell had picked up on it. He was genuinely curious to see what kind of gift Shuiren would present.

Shuiren had received gifts from others and passed them on to Zerpell before, but this was the first time he was choosing something himself to give. Unbeknownst to Shuiren, everything he had gifted—be it ornaments, flowers, or food—was carefully stored in a vault. Since flowers wilt and food spoils, Zerpell had even gone to Ian and had magic placed on them to prevent decay or deterioration.

“Come to think of it, how is Lord Shuiren these days?”

A strange voice snapped him out of his pleasant thoughts. What’s more, the voice was inquiring about Shuiren. Zerpell’s eyes widened menacingly at the uninvited guest.

“Why do you ask?”

Intimidated by Zerpell’s sharp, blade-like glare, the noble shrank back. He had only brought up Shuiren’s name to divert Zerpell’s attention. Rumor had it that in social circles, “If you want to talk to His Highness, mention Lord Shuiren.”

But one had to be cautious—depending on Zerpell’s mood, he might just glare disapprovingly. Sensing his discomfort, the noble cleared his throat awkwardly and said:

“I simply wished to extend my regards, since I didn’t have the chance to greet Lord Shuiren at the last imperial banquet…”

“Your regards are unnecessary.”

With a curt rejection and a sip of the wine beside him, Zerpell made his stance clear. The noble began to sweat.

“Is that so. It just reminded me of the imperial banquet. It’s hard to forget the day His Highness and Lord Shuiren appeared together. Lord Shuiren seemed to trust you deeply—it was clear even from a distance.”

“Is that so.”

Zerpell allowed a faint smile to form. The tense atmosphere slightly eased. The noble, inwardly surprised, managed to mask his reaction smoothly. Seeing Zerpell begin to engage in the conversation, the noble continued.

“Our family has been involved in…”

The noble eagerly launched into the background of his family business. As the conversation progressed, the sound of low-heeled shoes approached from the side, drawing nearer to Zerpell.

Zerpell turned his attention to the wine held out in front of him. When he turned his head, he saw the Marquis of Franchia. Clicking his tongue openly in displeasure, Zerpell expressed his distaste. Due to frequent attendance at social gatherings in hopes of gaining noble support, they often ran into each other—sometimes by coincidence, often by design. Zerpell accepted the wine the Marquis offered, swirled it, and sniffed the aroma—but never took a sip.

“I didn’t expect to see you here again, Your Highness.”

“…Following yesterday, we meet again today.”

“Indeed. I’d heard you’ve been quite active since the imperial banquet, but who would’ve thought we’d meet this often? Fate’s little joke, isn’t it? Haha. By the way, what were you discussing?”

“Well, it was…”

The noble hesitated under the Marquis’s sharp gaze. Zerpell placed the wine glass back on the table, clearly uninterested.

“Just mundane business talk. Nothing that would interest you, Marquis.”

“How could you say that? Who could be more interested in business than I? If it’s a good idea, why not consider a partnership with me?”

“…”

The noble’s eyes darted rapidly. Crown Prince versus Marquis. From a business perspective, either side could be profitable. The only issue was the political entanglement—it was a headache. Just then, someone placed a hand firmly on the noble’s shoulder. Startled, the noble turned to find Duke Bert standing behind him.

“Trying to snatch away my business partner, are you? It’s been a while, Marquis. I didn’t expect to see you here. I heard someone was looking for you over there. You should go.”

“Ah! Is that so? Your Highness, Your Grace, I’ll take my leave now.”

The noble, looking as if he’d just been rescued, bowed respectfully to the duke and quickly retreated. The surrounding nobles, sensing the tension, also stepped back. Zerpell grimaced at the tiresome situation.

Since the banquet, it had been an endless repetition of this power struggle—one with no real winners or losers.