167: Chapter 167 Gino City Second Prison! The Servites!

Gino City, Second Prison.

This drab, stone building was nestled deep within a quiet alley in the western part of the city.

This was a place for detaining suspects awaiting trial; while not as eerie and terrifying as the First Prison, it was certainly no pleasant place to be.

Citizens usually gave it a wide berth.

After leaving the castle, Sylvie went straight to the prison where her father was being held.

She stood before the iron gate of the prison administration office, took a deep breath, tightened her grip on the parchment in her hand, and knocked on the small window in the iron door.

The iron window was pulled open from the inside, revealing a pair of wary eyes.

"Who are you? What is your business?"

Sylvie tried to make her voice sound calm: "I am Sylvie from the Golden Flame Earl Manor, here on the orders of The Count to release a prisoner."

"This is the handwritten approval note from The Count."

She passed the parchment through the gap.

The eyes behind the iron window stared at her for a few seconds, then looked down to scan the parchment in their hand.

Then, the clinking of keys and the sound of the door lock being opened came from inside.

A middle-aged man wearing a jailer's uniform walked out, eyeing the young girl up and down before saying:

"The Count's approval note? Miss, this is not a joking matter. Are you certain?"

Meeting his scrutinizing gaze, Sylvie straightened her back: "I am certain."

"The note bears The Count's personal signature. You can find someone capable of verifying it."

The jailer looked at her twice more, frowned as he studied the note for a while, and a look of dilemma appeared on his face.

He truly did not recognize The Count's signature—

This new city lord had not been in office for long, and his handwriting style had not yet become familiar among the lower-level officials.

If he released the prisoner and the note was fake, he could not bear the responsibility.

If he didn't release the prisoner and it really was The Count's intention, he could not bear the consequences of the delay.

Just as he was caught in this dilemma,

from the corridor leading deeper into the prison, came a steady, rhythmic sound of footsteps, along with a slightly husky female voice:

"Are the prisoners for today's interrogation ready?"

Hearing this, the jailer quickly turned and bowed toward the corridor:

"Deputy Commander Portia! You have come just in time!"

"There is a lady here with an approval note from The Count to release a prisoner, but this humble subordinate... my eyes are dull, and I have never seen The Count's signature before. I dare not make a decision on my own. Could you please take a look?"

The footsteps grew closer, and a figure wearing the uniform of a City Guard officer appeared at the door.

It was none other than Portia of the City Guard.

Portia's gaze landed on the young girl at the door, and she raised an eyebrow slightly.

Her thoughts shifted slightly, but her expression remained calm as she walked up to the jailer and held out her hand:

"Let me see it."

The jailer quickly presented the parchment with both hands.

Portia took the note and looked at the smooth, powerful signature at the bottom.

She glanced at it once, nodded, returned the note to the jailer, and said in a firm tone:

"It is indeed The Count's personal signature. During my time with the army in the North, I saw many military orders signed by him; the handwriting matches."

Hearing this, the jailer's expression immediately became solemn. He took the note with both hands, carefully put it away, and thanked Portia repeatedly.

He then turned to Sylvie, his tone instantly becoming much more respectful:

"So it was The Count's intention!"

"Miss, please wait a moment, I will go get the prisoner right away! May I ask who you are here to collect?"

"Toby Hague."

Sylvie stated her father's name, her voice filled with irrepressible excitement.

The jailer acknowledged this and turned, quickly disappearing into the depths of the corridor.

At this moment, Sylvie turned to Deputy Commander Portia and bowed gratefully:

"Thank you for your help, Portia."

Portia waved her hand, her tone indifferent yet slightly gentle: "It was a small effort. Since it is The Count's intention, it should naturally be carried out."

She paused, her gaze lingering on Sylvie's face for a moment, as if she wanted to say something.

But in the end, she just nodded slightly and turned to continue walking deeper into the prison.

Sylvie stood where she was, watching Portia's back disappear around the corner of the corridor, and only then did she let out a soft sigh of relief, setting her anxious heart slightly at ease.

Not long after, footsteps were heard again from deep within the corridor. This time, there were two people.

A middle-aged man wearing a crumpled gray prison uniform walked out, accompanied by the jailer.

The middle-aged man's eyes were filled with exhaustion and bewilderment.

But when he saw the familiar figure at the door, his eyes suddenly lit up.

"Sylvie!"

Toby Hague's voice was full of surprise.

He quickened his pace, almost stumbling as he rushed to his daughter, looking her up and down and saying:

"Why are you here?"

"Are you... here to take me away?"

Seeing her father in such a disheveled state, Sylvie's eyes turned slightly red as she said:

"Father, I am here to take you home."

"Good! Good, good..."

Toby was visibly moved.

At this point, seeing that he had brought the right person, the jailer stepped forward and deftly unlocked Toby's handcuffs, returning a small cloth bag containing his personal belongings with a very polite attitude:

"Mr. Hague, you may go. Please forgive any offense caused previously."

"As for City Hall, you don't need to worry; I will convey The Count's order to them."

Toby rubbed his wrists where the handcuffs had been, seemingly wanting to say something, but after a moment's thought, he did not press the issue, instead walking quickly out of the prison with his daughter.

He did not want to stay in this gloomy place for even one more second.

Stepping out of the prison gate, the winter afternoon sun was a bit dazzling, but Toby took a deep breath of free air, feeling as if he had come back to life.

He turned to look at his daughter beside him, his eyes filled with emotion: "Sylvie, this time, it's all thanks to you."

Sylvie's footsteps faltered slightly, then returned to normal.

She did not look back, but said softly:

"Let's talk about it when we get back, Dad. Mom and my little brother are waiting at home."

Toby nodded, and the father and daughter walked home along the alley.

Behind them.

In the shadows of the prison entrance.

Deputy Commander Portia had appeared, having emerged at some point.

She stood on the steps, watching the father and daughter's receding figures, rubbing her chin, deep in thought.

A moment later, she withdrew her gaze, turned, and walked toward her warhorse tethered nearby, mounted it, and rode off in the direction of the City Guard.