Chapter 471: A Spring Promise, A Summer Blossom

An evening haze fell over the royal capital.Visitors to Reitzlake rarely thought of the city as beautiful. Unlike the sweeping vistas offered by the old metropolises found in Granholtz or Rozinthe, its single greatest monument was the dent left by Jolly Barley’s face when he collided with a statue and won. 

However, when doused beneath the reddened dusk, even the blemishes sparkled. 

An excellent thing for the merchants plying their trade.

As curious onlookers lined the many stalls that made up the market district, more eyes were on the gleam of burnished iron passing as silver than the unsavoury grins of those hoping to sell them. And yet even if the merchants had staked a warning sign before their wares, they would still find a way to earn their keep. 

Likely several times over.

Reitzlake, after all, had always been a home for those willing to profit. 

While the shameless nature of its entrepreneurs was rarely appreciated, it was at least admired. There was something about the roguish smile which allowed value to be added onto every commodity, and few people were exempt from having their heartstrings tickled.

Renise was one of them.

Her father had been an official scoundrel, after all. And if the Smuggler King’s shameless smile failed to move her whenever he wanted a late night brawl kept secret, then nothing else was likely to work.  

… That especially included anything Timon Quinsley could offer.

“Hoho … you’ve need of my adventurers, you say? Well, I suppose that can be arranged. For a price.”

Renise was quite impressed.

Usually, being the senior representative of the Adventurer Guild for an entire kingdom was a higher achievement than anyone could wish for. It was certainly up there in regards to salary. 

Even so, as Renise studied the grin still shaped by a bout of mischievous laughter, she had to wonder if the man wouldn’t have done better just setting up a stall in the market district. Given his forwardness, it seemed a shame that only those like herself would experience it.

But then again, no stall would be as comfortable as his office.

Spacious and well-furnished, it was decorated with artifacts supposedly bereft of magic despite the occasional glow she spied.

Regardless, her concern was the guildmaster hunched over his desk, his hands clasped together while smiling with a youthfulness matched only by the glint in his eyes.

Thus, she simply offered her own smile in return.

“The guild’s assistance would be most welcome,” she said with a nod. “The Summer Solstice Festival’s fame now reaches far beyond our borders, drawing visitors from all across the continent. This year, it’s expected to be particularly busy.”

“Every year is particularly busy. Getting drunk is the most popular hobby. And the Summer Solstice Festival boasts the cheapest wine. That’s a better draw than anything you can find in Granholtz.” 

“Indeed, it certainly is popular with … hobbyist connoisseurs. Great effort is made to ensure the festival is affordable. Even for those who are sober.”

“Well, I’m not certain how many of my adventurers will fall into the latter category. But there’d be no shortage of willing hands. Some of them might be holding a mug of ale, but they only need their foreheads to remind visitors that the laws are still to be respected.” 

“Wonderful. That’s reassuring to hear. Does this mean an agreement in principle can be reached?”

“I suppose that depends.”

“On payment?”

“Yes, but also whatever my nose tells me. And this is rather unfamiliar. The kingdom has never asked me to provide adventurers to help keep bars intact. Unlike my usual clients, you’ve help of your own. They’re called soldiers. You’ve little need of my louts.”

“When it comes to safeguarding peace, there is always need for more watchful eyes. Or foreheads. Moreover, the Kingdom of Tirea and the Adventurer’s Guild share a unique and close partnership. As the Summer Solstice Festival is a worldly affair, we believe this to be an excellent stage to display it.”

“Words that headquarters would gobble up like fruit slimes to whatever Mirabelle threw out this morning. But not me. My stomach’s far more discerning.”

“I see … is there an issue with commissioning the guild, then?”

“There is. It’s called an ulterior motive. So go on. What does the kingdom need us to take the fall for?”

Renise maintained her composure even as the guildmaster bluntly revealed his doubts.

Although an elderly man with more grey hair than a badger, Renise wouldn’t be surprised if he threw away his wrinkles to reveal the grinning face of a young fox underneath. 

For one thing, he was as ambivalent about etiquette as the rumours suggested.

Renise liked that a lot. Except she couldn’t allow herself to be swept aside by the lively facade. 

After all, she also knew the other rumours about him. 

Everybody in the Smuggler’s Guild did. Enough that were he to abandon the trappings of a guildmaster and take on a more seedier role, Rose House would have significantly fewer members at its disposal.

“There’s no ulterior motive. We simply wish to ensure a safe festival. Reitzlake’s guards are highly capable, but they’re also less suited for unconventional problems.”

“Oh? And what unconventional problems do you expect to show up?”

Renise’s smile faded slightly.

“The type of problem that grows back if you only trim the surface. Instead, you must wait for the right moment to pull it up by the root.”

“So weeds, I take it?”

“Yes, although weeds come in many forms. Some even as the most beautiful flowers.”

The guildmaster raised an eyebrow. He unclasped his hands and sat back in his chair.

“Hm. Sounds like the sort of thing the guild shouldn’t be involved in. I’m interested.”

“Lovely. Then if we can discuss–”

“But even if there’s no ulterior motive, there’s still the fact that this will never be allowed to proceed. Queen Eliana will put her foot down. And trust me, that hurts. She hates my guts. And therefore the guts of all adventurers. While I’m not saying it’s undeserved, it does make my involvement problematic.”

“The former Queen Eliana is now the Queen Emerita. She has long abdicated the throne.” 

“Not long enough. That woman’s hiss echoes longer than a hill giant’s snore. So long as she’s … somehow still alive, the king and current queen won’t so much as ask me to pass the salt. They certainly aren’t the ones suggesting this.”

“Indeed, the involvement of the Adventurer’s Guild was suggested by the Crown Prince, to whom all matters relating to the royal capital and the festival are entrusted.”

The guildmaster hummed. 

He gave the slightest nod, and yet it was the twinkle in his eyes which gave away his thoughts before he even spoke them.

“Is that so? … Good fellow, that Prince Roland is. Smart head and honest enough heart. But while I’m not one to suggest my potential clients go elsewhere, I don’t see why he’d bother dealing with all the grief he’ll get when his princely friends accuse him of being unable to guard his own festivals. I know the sort of looks he’ll receive. And in the dull world of politics, they are far from harmless.”

“Your concern is appreciated. But you needn’t worry. The Crown Prince hopes to receive as many of those looks as he can.”

“Oh? … Is he planning to push them all into a hole?”

“Not that I’m aware of. The Crown Prince simply wishes to communicate his admiration of those who climb the Oldest Ladder. He believes this isn’t reflected as clearly as it should be. Especially if it’s true that the guild’s headquarters is under threat.”

The guildmaster quietly considered his response.

His faint smile gave little away, but the implication of her words were clear.

Political instability in Rozinthe had long been an enduring concern, but sentimentalism and a hoard of riches not easily moved meant the guild’s headquarters endeavoured to remain where it was formed. An effort growing more difficult given recent events in the Old Imperium. 

If another kingdom was openly courting them, it was only natural that their eyes turned towards greener pastures.

Finally, the guildmaster let out a chuckle.

“... Hm, I see Roland could do to be more like his grandmother,” he said, briefly stunning Renise with the overfamiliarity. “Inviting headquarters to set up shop here is a daring thing. And dangerous. They’d turn your farmers into F-rank adventurers before they even realise what happened to their pitchforks.”

“Then I invite them wholeheartedly.”

“Prince Roland? … Or you?”

“I can only convey the Crown Prince’s words, not his thoughts. But I do believe he shares the same view of adventurers as I do. As you doubtless know, I would not be here were it not for one in particular.”

The guildmaster snorted.

“Indeed, I’m aware of your circumstances, Smuggler Princess. You were saved when the night was darkest, for that is the role of adventurers–to rescue those who have fallen where light cannot reach. I trust you understand, then, that if you wish to employ our services, we may occasionally need to break down a door to let that light through.”

Renise blinked as the image of a princess knocking down an entire wall came to mind.

“Breaking a door is fine,” she said honestly.

“... Within reason, I gather?”

“The only consideration is the safety of the festivalgoers. While your adventurers won’t possess any powers of detention, the guild will have broad remit to assist the royal capital’s guards. There will be no repercussions for any broken doors.”

Renise paused.

“But yes. Within reason.”

The guildmaster lifted his head back and laughed.

“Hah! Look at you, saying all the right words. And yet such reassurance does nothing but concern me. I wonder just how many weeds you expect to pull out.”

“As many as required. We take great care of our gardens.”

Timon Quinsley grinned.

And that was that.

Renise could almost hear a poor soul from the guild's headquarters yelling while frantically shaking their head, for while the benefits to the guild were obvious, so were the amount of political repercussions should anything go awry.

In a festival visited by dignitaries from all across the continent, that meant it was a certainty. 

It was only natural that Reitzlake’s guildmaster only had one answer to give.

By the time Renise re-emerged from the guild hall into the quiet street outside, the light was dipping so low that the steepled rooftops were silhouetted against the sun. 

That was only the first conversation. There’d be many more to come, all at great pace. 

Although it was still several weeks until the Summer Solstice Festival, planning had begun the moment the previous one had ended. To insert the Adventurer’s Guild alongside Rose House would take a considerable amount of added logistics.

There would be more laboured days ahead, for summer was the season of intrigue. But Renise could look forward to it knowing she’d help bring more adventurers into the kingdom.

Once again, the Crown Prince had shown his unconventional approach to politics. 

Should the guild be convinced to move its headquarters, then it would drown out any scoff by his royal peers. Adventurers were not soldiers, but they were still a line of defence. If their host kingdom was threatened, they were duty bound to defend the people. A useful asset.

Moreover … Renise was certain this would please Juliette!

She smiled and looked up, braving a wince as she gazed at the beautiful dusk.

Somewhere over the horizon, a princess was currently doing her best in the guise of an adventurer.

It was a task she did better than any other. But it wasn’t one she should do alone. And so Renise vowed to do her best in drawing as many adventurers towards the kingdom as she could, knowing that the more help she had, the more nights she could sleep soundly.

Satisfied at her work today, Renise turned towards the castle.

Pwissh.

Only to suddenly hop to the side as a falling roof tile shattered beside her.

She blinked at the tiny remains, then stepped away and looked up … only for her mouth to widen more than she knew was possible.

A beautiful elven woman.

Pristine complexion. Glossy silver hair. Dazzling sapphire eyes. A dress suited for a soirée.

And she was tiptoeing across the roof of the Adventurer’s Guild. 

Along with a pair of ducks.

The elven woman paused, seemingly only just realising a tile had been smashed.

She peered down. And so for the very first time, Renise Rimeaux and Ophelia the Snow Dancer made eye contact. 

Renise stared. Ophelia stared.

Then, the elven woman beamed and waved, all the while pointing at the guild’s chimney as though to say that was where she was going. She held a finger playfully to her lips.

Renise was horrified.

She’d never met the Snow Dancer, but she recognised her at once. 

The Smuggler’s Guild had courted her without success for as long as she could remember. And now the famed sword saint was eyeing a chimney into the same Adventurer’s Guild that she’d just proposed a working partnership with.

Clearly, she had to say something.

And she would. 

Perhaps in passing to somebody else. 

Because as studious as Renise was, she was also fairly certain that anyone who ever tried stopping her from doing anything ended up gaining their first grey hair. No exceptions.

“L-Lady Renise … !”

It was a decision mercifully taken out of her hands by the sight of Jolly Barley.

Sprinting towards her while struggling not to careen into another statue, he was the picture of bad news. There was only one reason why Renise ever saw a member of Rose House yelling her name in public, and that was either to confess their feelings or try for the bounty on her head.

She hoped it was for the bounty.

“Lady Renise!” gasped Jolly Barley, the sweat caking his face as he hunched over with breathlessness. “I … I have a message!”

“What is it?” she replied, readying a gentle rejection. “Did something happen?”

“Lady Renise … it’s … ahem, it’s your mother and father, they’ve just woken and–”

Renise heard all she needed to.

The next moments were a blur. 

Buildings streaked past, gulls fled to the clouds and faces merged into weird impressions as all the world became a runny palette of colour. She careened around corners and stalls, sweeping past stunned merchants and guards so fast half of them thought she was a thief.

It didn’t matter. Nobody could catch her.

Summer was finally here. And a spring promise had been kept. A fae dream had finally ended. And Renise knew what the first thing she wanted to tell her parents was.

The story of a princess from a fairy tale.