Annan furrowed his brows slightly as his gaze shifted a little.
She seemed no older than fourteen or fifteen. Perhaps because girls mature early, she was slightly taller than Annan.
Annan scrutinized the girl who was about as tall as himself.
The first thing that caught his eye was the beret slanting across her head, followed by the black gothic long dress...
But when he noticed her pupils, Annan suddenly froze for a moment.
This almost transparent texture and her pale skin that seemed untouched by sunlight...
—Why did she feel somewhat familiar to him?
"Could you please let me go?"
Annan asked softly, quite politely.
Hearing his words, Kafney obediently released his sleeve.
But she didn’t step back or show anger; she just continued to stare at Annan intently. Those bright red, ruby-like pupils made Annan feel slightly uncomfortable.
Because it was not the dazzlement of seeing a beautiful member of the opposite sex, nor the adoration of a young girl for her idol, not even the reverence a priest holds for a deity...
It was more akin to the gaze of a painter admiring a masterpiece.
But Annan had not a trace of fear in his heart.
He was merely curiously examining the girl who unexpectedly gave him a sense of danger and asked softly, "You are...?"
"Kafney. Kafney Noah."
It wasn’t Kafney who spoke, but her father, His Highness Prince Albert.
Salvatore was somewhat confused by the side.
Salvatore whispered to Annan, "I don’t quite understand."
He did not address him by the name "Tan Juan".
Because he was worried, if Annan truly wasn’t Tan Juan Geraint, then by saying that name here, he might cause Prince Albert to suspect him of masquerading as a noble to steal information.
After making eye contact with Annan and seeing him nod slightly, the bald and portly man with a sparkling golden tooth spoke on behalf of Annan.
He respectfully introduced to the other three present, "This is the youngest son of the Duke of Winter—Annan Winter."
"...You’re the duke’s son?"
After a brief silence, Salvatore asked with surprise and uncertainty, "Then why are you here at Frostwater Harbor?"
I’d like to know that myself.
Annan muttered in his heart.
But he was surprised by Salvatore’s calmness, "Senior, why don’t you seem... very surprised?"
Wasn’t he angry at being deceived by him?
Salvatore just looked at Annan strangely, "I know you, not Tan Juan Geraint...
"Besides, Tan Juan’s reputation isn’t very good to begin with. I’ve heard from my teacher long ago that Earl Crow’s youngest son Tan Juan is a coward, completely opposite to old Crow’s decisive personality.
"He doesn’t resemble a noble, not even a scholar... but more like a child. His only merits are being obedient, docile, and knowing etiquette, but beyond that, he doesn’t dare to act or gamble on anything. He wouldn’t take action alone if there’s even a slight chance of failure, and he doesn’t even have the courage to argue or question others’ decisions."
Having said that, Salvatore looked at Annan with a complex expression, "This is common knowledge among the noble circles of the kingdom. That’s why I wasn’t very hospitable when you first arrived at Frostwater Harbor..."
For a noble, "obedience" is not considered a merit.
On the contrary, "lack of temper" could even be seen as a flaw. Coupled with the epic qualifier "indecisive", unless Benjamin could prepare an "Exhortation to Advance for him, his arrival at Frostwater Harbor would probably just create chaos.
"So, you’ve known from the start that I wasn’t Tan Juan Geraint?"
Annan was somewhat surprised.
He had no idea that Salvatore harboured any doubts about him...
Yet Salvatore merely shook his head.
"Who you are doesn’t make much of a difference to me."
He repeated once more, "It is you I know, not Tan Juan Geraint. You protected the people of Frostwater Harbor, upheld the honor of the Geraint family, helped me defeat my archenemy, and completed my mission... Even the real Tan Juan could not have done more."
"Of course... I am still somewhat dissatisfied with the fact that you deceived me. But considering you are not a villain and you weren’t trying to exploit my trust for your own gain, it must have been a desperate act with no other recourse."
Salvatore spoke calmly.
There was neither anger nor surprise. His words were simply uttered as if stating a fact.
He even seemed a bit pleased, as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
"On the contrary, it’s better that you’re not someone from the Crow family."
Salvatore remarked sentimentally, "I had been hesitant about whether to use the power of Heath Tower of Black to help the Crows. If I helped you, I would feel guilty toward my teachers and classmates whom I’d dragged into this mess; yet if I saw you in trouble and did nothing, I would not be at peace with myself.
"Since you are from the Winter family... this is the best outcome."
Because the Duke of Winter certainly wouldn’t need the help of Heath Tower of Black.
They couldn’t help anyway—no matter what happened, there was nothing they could do. A large group of Transcendents, if they all entered the Duchy of Winter through underground tunnels, would practically be declaring war.
And Annan, taking advantage of the power of another nation, even just to suppress a rebellion, would only invite an even greater tide of public opinion.
Salvatore looked at Annan with a slightly peculiar expression.
He had initially treated Annan as a ’protagonist-type’ friend who might encounter trouble at any moment.
But he had never expected Annan to be such an important figure...
The youngest son of the Duke of Winter—didn’t that mean he was very likely to be the future Duke of Winter?
The position of a duke was much more noble than that of a Tower Master.
Annan was also a bit puzzled.
Wasn’t his temperament a little too forgiving?
Even if Annan himself had been deceived by a good friend , he would certainly have complained for a few days, then extort a few meals, and perhaps some special local products.
He never thought such a matter could be so breezily glossed over.
Annan’s original plan was to use the guise of a "royal heir" to reveal his true identity to Salvatore, defusing a ticking time bomb; then, using the common enemy that was the imminent arrival of the Church of the Rotting Flesh to bind Salvatore to him, ensuring he wouldn’t just blow up and leave; finally, to defeat the enemy with Salvatore and rebuild a new friendship as ’Annan Winter’.
After all, Annan truly hadn’t wronged him and had helped him defeat Gerald and obtain the hammer.
But deception is deception.
Annan knew in his heart that deceiving was wrong. That’s why he was trying to mend the relationship... because he realized that Salvatore indeed had a good nature.
His plan was well thought out.
He just hadn’t anticipated that Salvatore wouldn’t play by the rules...
"Is the worldview of wizards so... open-minded?"
Albert, who was at the side, had more or less grasped the message in Salvatore’s words and looked a little oddly at the young wizard, whose hair was somewhat disheveled.
Although what Salvatore said made a lot of sense.
Being so rational and ’reasonable’ about something that concerned oneself was quite extraordinary.
He paused, then turned to Annan and asked again, "But Your Highness, what brings you here? If my father had received word of your entry into our country, he would have sent me or my elder sister to welcome you."
Albert’s words were very polite.
But Annan could taste a hint of caution and probing in them.
Annan was not upset; he was rather pleased—
This is the rhythm I’m familiar with!
"I came to your country with my guards through the Black Sea, indeed on a mission."
Faced with Albert’s skepticism, he began to fabricate without any psychological pressure—
Annan frowned slightly, showing a trace of seriousness.
He spoke softly, asking, "Prince Albert...
"Have you heard of the name ’Church of the Rotting Flesh’?"