Perfikot followed the old prince through a corridor lined with various armors and portraits to a tranquil yet cozy small parlour. This text is hosted at ɴovelfire.net
In the parlour, there was a small fireplace with a fire already lit, making the room somewhat warm.
At the same time, a unique aroma filled the parlour, involuntarily causing one to feel relaxed and unconsciously lower their defenses.
To this, Perfikot merely raised her eyebrows again, took off her coat, and then sat down on the armchair in front of the fireplace.
Beifa took Perfikot’s coat and hung it on her arm, while still holding a small suitcase in the other hand.
"Your clothes can be hung on the coat rack, forgive an old man’s frailty; now I no longer have the ability to climb ice and sleep in the snow with your grandfather." The old prince looked slightly melancholic, then sat down and pulled a small blanket over his legs: "These are the sequelae left from freezing with your grandfather back then; my knees ache during this season and need a fire to feel like these legs are still mine."
Perfikot nodded in understanding, with a touch of sigh, she said: "Though I don’t quite remember, Foster the steward mentioned that grandfather also endured the aftermath of those wars for years before his death, almost unable to walk on his own legs, suffering greatly in his late years."
Though Perfikot had hardly seen her grandfather, she could imagine and understand how excruciating it must be for an elderly person to be tormented by illness in their twilight years.
Especially since her grandfather was a powerful knight, galloping invincible on the battlefield, yet ended up plagued by illness in his late years; it was undoubtedly an immense sorrow.
Clearly, the old prince, having experienced something similar, quite understood this pain; he lamented somewhat despondently: "Never thought your grandfather was too; we old folks are ultimately meant to be phased out by time, making way for you youngsters."
Hearing this, Perfikot couldn’t help but slightly shake her head, raising her hand to draw a thread of flame from the fireplace and cast it into the small stove inside Beifa’s opened suitcase, before saying: "So you devised this situation? Burning your last bit of value to remove the Empire’s biggest destabilizing factor? Can’t you old folks just live peacefully and stop giving me trouble?"
By this time, the suitcase in Beifa’s hands was fully opened, containing a complete set of teaware and tools for brewing tea. After Perfikot lit the fixed small stove in the suitcase, Beifa took out a silver bottle, the girth of an arm, and poured clear water into a kettle, placing it on the stove to heat.
The old prince glanced at this ingenious design and instantly displayed an interested expression, eagerly saying: "Such a clever design! If I had this back then in the war, I wouldn’t be drinking that dishwater-like tea brewed by your grandfather’s attendant every day!
That was truly squandering tea leaves; it was a shame for my treasured Eastern tea leaves, all brewed into bitter soup, completely devoid of the enjoyment of tea drinking."
"Fu grandfather never could brew tea well, even now I don’t fancy his tea." Perfikot certainly knew whom the old prince meant by ’grandfather’s attendant’; she had to admit that although the old steward was comprehensive in affairs, his tea brewing skill was indeed lacking, prompting her to develop tea brewing features for Beifa, and design a portable tea table and complete set of tea-brewing tools.
Yet even so, Perfikot defended the old steward: "But on the battlefield, brewing tea with high heat could only yield a pot of bitter brew enough to make one puke; that stuff is hard to drink but undeniably invigorating, isn’t it?"
Hearing this, Prince Edward had to acknowledge: "Indeed, not just the tea’s invigorating effect; the sheer bitterness was sufficient to keep one alert and awake for a long time.
Back then, when we kept vigil on the battlefield, we truly relied on this; your grandfather always found it hard to swallow, yet ironically, he drank the most each time."
Prince Edward showed a hint of nostalgia and mischief as he spoke: "Do you know why? Because he was a commander and needed to stay awake and alert, whereas I could sleep well while he stayed up pondering combat plans! Hahaha!"
After speaking, Prince Edward deliberately looked provocatively at Perfikot.
"Did you truly sleep well? Weren’t you contemplating daily how to defeat the enemy back then?" Perfikot eyed the old prince meaningfully, her lips curving as she spoke: "Otherwise how could you repay Queen Mary, who treated you as family, am I right?"
Upon hearing this, the old prince’s expression twisted abruptly, but he soon regained composure, scrutinizing Perfikot as he asked: "Seems I underrated Grandelis’ granddaughter, how did you know all this?"
Perfikot simply snapped her fingers, and a person who had been hidden beside her appeared from the shadows, saluted the old prince, and then melded back into the air.
"A dagger hidden in darkness, looks like you are indeed more complicated than I anticipated." The old prince seemed not particularly fazed, merely showing a hint of surprise as he looked toward Perfikot: "So was this blade reserved for me? If I truly intended to bring ruin and chaos to the nation, what fate would you arrange for me? A throat-slashing dagger?"
The old prince appeared indifferent, as if discussing matters unrelated to his survival.
But Perfikot merely took the tea brewed by Beifa, gently blowing on it before sipping a small mouthful: "He only oversees your surveillance and Rose Legion intel collection; whether you die peacefully or play the leading role is up to Her Majesty the Empress, my task is to evaluate, advise and execute."
Hearing this, the old prince chuckled: "Seems Mary’s daughter still wishes to afford me dignity? The outcome arranged for me turns out to be a peaceful end."
"If you desire dignity, naturally I can offer you dignity, but if you don’t, then I can only help you find it, as the Empire must uphold its dignity." Speaking thus, Perfikot finally raised her head to directly meet the old prince’s eyes, coldly articulating with near absolute rationality: "However, should Her Majesty the Empress learn you secretly loved her mother, your aunt, she probably wouldn’t grant you a peaceful end."
The old prince didn’t doubt this, as even though such matters weren’t unheard of in the old world among aristocratic circles, it still counted as a scandal.
Yet the old prince merely smiled slightly, taking a bottle of aged liquor from the side, pouring himself a drink as he said: "Wish to hear a story? An ever so slightly old tale."