ur because of her loneliness.

Ashmia’s words, which described her as ‘playing king’, were so accurate.
Even so, she wanted to forget that loneliness among those who looked after her.

***

Ashmia said she treated her as ‘Francesca’.
Her demeanor was so profane that she had never experienced it before, but on the contrary, it made Francesca feel strangely attracted to Ashmia’s character.

“…I like it.”

Francesca looked straight at Ashmia as she spoke.

“You said two weeks, right?”

“Yes.”

“If you’re right, then I’ll think about your arrogant offer afterwards.”

“Alright.”

“But if it was nonsense, the cost would be great.”

“You made a good choice.
If the princess gets involved in something bad, I’ll be heartbroken.”

Francesca’s face turned red at Ashmia’s words.

“Let’s stop talking about this!”

Ashmia smiled knowingly and nodded.

After returning to the starting point, the two got off their horses and walked side by side into the building with the help of their own bodyguards.

“It was an honour to meet you.”

“Same here.
See you next time.”

When they got back, everyone looked at them like they were going crazy and wondered if the two of them had changed or if they were different people.
What kind of conversation did the two of them have?

Ashmia and Francesca turned to each other, understanding their own gazes and expressions.

As she walked out into the lobby, Ivern Randolph, who stood with a procession of employees, smiled broadly and bowed ninety degrees in front of Ashmia.

“Once again, I would like to say that it was an honour to have you, Ashmia Kalanishiel.”

“Get home safely!”

In line with Ivern’s words, the staff bowed and greeted her all at once.

‘Ha, he’s really clever.’

The subject of the conversation between Ashmia and Francesca may not be known, but he must’ve read the signs of a change in power balance with an animalistic sense.

‘No matter what era, that kind of guy lives for a long time.’

Ashmia waved lightly.

“Please take good care of Bucephalus* while I’m not here.”

t/n: this is an actual horse’s name.
pls google it if you wanna know more about it.

“Would you look at that? You have come up with a good name.”

Ivern replied with a soft smile after quickly realising that it was the name given to the white horse.
It was very childish, so he didn’t forget about it.

Ashmia finally returned to her car and sighed.
She asked Vanessa, who sat in the driver’s seat, with a curious expression.

“Thank you for your hard work.
Did it go well?”

“Yes.
There were some improvisations, but that’s fine.
It’s all thanks to you, Vanessa.”

“What are you talking about? All I did was make him listen to me.”

“That was a big deal.
Let me know if you would like to receive a reward.
I’ll listen to anything.”

“No! It’s fine!”

“You better tell me before I change my mind.”

“…Can I think about it for a little bit?”

At Vanessa’s words, Ashmia grinned.

“Then, can we go home now?”

“Alright, let’s rest for today.
I’m tired from running.”

Ashmia talked a lot.
Still, compared to two weeks ago, it was a major improvement. 

Ashmia said as she smelled the horse faeces carried by the wind through the open car window.

“Well, I have a place I want to visit tomorrow.”

“Where is that?”

Ashmia looked at Vanessa with playful eyes and answered.

“The National Police Department.”

***

The following day.

Dressed in a suit that resembled Vanessa instead of her usual dress, Ashmia got out of her car wearing a fedora hat over her braided hair along with a pair of sunglasses.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

Ashmia smiled at Vanessa, who looked worried.

“Yes.
They can’t arrest me just because my last name is Kalanishiel.”

However, Vanessa’s past record was glamorous, so it was a little risky for her to enter the police department.

Ashmia blew her a wink over her sunglasses before climbing up some wide stairs leading to the entrance of the Police Department. 

Whoo~

As she passed by the main gate, she exhaled.
The scent and the noisy atmosphere of the first floor lobby made her feel nostalgic.

“What brings you here?”

As soon as she was about to answer the police officer’s question at the information desk on the first floor, Ashmia spotted a busy Nikita Borev carrying some documents and heading somewhere.

“Excuse me, lady? What’s wrong?”

At that moment, it felt as if the accident never happened, but Ashmia came to her senses at the officer’s call and shook off her thoughts.

“I’m here to meet Detective Clint Westfield.”

She said the name of the man who was Michael’s instructor.

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