SOTBW - 84

“Have you ever thought about what the most profitable business in Noctis is?”

Maximón asked as he draped a thick cloak over Najane’s shoulders. Najane stared at Maximón’s hands tying the strings into a ribbon shape and tilted his head before responding.

“Maybe being a mercenary? Or transporting goods as a carrier for fortresses? Slave trading?”

“You’re wrong. The correct answer is an information broker.”

“...An information broker?”

“Exactly, people who buy and sell information.”

Maximón gathered Najane’s unruly hair and tucked it behind his ears, then placed a hat with soft wool inside over his head. The robe was long and heavy, but it was also warm. Najane held onto the hat tightly to prevent it from blowing off in the wind and looked up at Maximón.

Maximón stared at Najane for a moment with a satisfied smile, admiring how well the winter robe fit him. This was a custom-made garment, tailored specifically for Najane. There was no need to take measurements—the seamstresses only had to follow the details Maximón already knew.

“It suits you well.”

Hearing Maximón’s pleased voice, Najane fiddled with the robe and asked,

“Is this a newly distributed cloak?”

Najane’s eyes sparkled with the expectation that everyone in Romsoa would soon be wearing such a luxurious cloak. Maximón was momentarily at a loss for words. Such expensive fabric would never be distributed as supplies. However, seeing how eagerly Najane was waiting, he hesitated for a moment before making up a story.

“Was it at the last meeting with the commander? We decided to train female soldiers, and since it’s something special, we agreed to provide them with good clothing. This is one of those outfits, and I happened to get an extra cloak.”

“Female soldiers?”

“Some sycophants around the king suggested such nonsense, trying to come up with something to make themselves look good.”

Maximón, who had been frowning, glanced at Najane again, this time with a small smile appearing on his lips. He watched the cloak fluttering as Najane moved, his face expressing satisfaction.

“I knew this color would suit you best. My choice was right.”

Maximón ran his eyes over the dark green robe, unable to suppress his smile.

“Actually, I wanted to give you gloves as well, but it seems they take a bit more time to make. I ordered several pairs. They’ll be for different purposes—some for daily wear, some for battle, and others for the different seasons.”

“Gloves?”

“Yes, you needed gloves that fit you.”

Najane pulled out a pair of rough, worn gloves from her waist, the leather all scratched and worn down. She had been using ones that were lying around in the weapons storage, and since all the knights in Romsoa were men, the gloves were way too big. She had tightened the wrist part as best as she could, but with the prolonged cold snap, she was starting to feel the need for properly fitting gear.

Her smile was almost breaking through, but Najane kept her lips tightly shut, not wanting Maximón to tease her. She tried to hide her happiness, but as she looked up, Maximón poked her cheek with his finger as if he knew what she was thinking.

“You’re expecting a gift, aren’t you?”

Maximón, having seen through her true feelings, said with a teasing tone. She couldn’t hold it in anymore and chuckled.

“Though, I’m not sure if they’ll fit perfectly since you didn’t take a mold of my hands.”

“Don’t worry. They’ll fit perfectly.”

Maximón confidently grasped Najane’s hand carefully.

Her small hand fit perfectly into his palm—thin, long fingers with thick knuckles, an index finger slightly curved but still about the same length as her middle finger, a particularly short pinky compared to the others, and nails that were always neatly trimmed.

Having entrusted the measurements to an excellent tailor, the gloves would be made to fit Najane’s hands exactly. Maximón had explained her hand’s finger lengths and palm width in great detail, and the tailor had drawn a pattern that matched her actual hands perfectly.

He tightened the strings of her hat to make sure it wouldn’t fly off and then met Najane’s gaze.

“We’re going to meet an information broker now. His name is Rockbell Hardison. He used to be the royal butler.”

“The royal butler?”

Najane, following behind Maximón, asked in surprise.

“Shh, lower your voice.”

Maximón, who had been walking ahead, cautioned.

“His role as an information broker in Noctis is a closely guarded secret. The king and the nobles believe that old man died years ago, but he’s very much alive. His eyes and ears are everywhere, and if you carelessly speak out, you’ll be found dead in a well the next day.”

“Did he fake his death to avoid getting caught up in a power struggle?”

“He’s served the king for nearly half a century. He’s been dealing with the secrets the royal family and the nobles have been hiding, and he’s long been immersed in conspiracies and backroom dealings. He probably anticipated that one day he’d be caught up in a pointless power struggle and lose his life.”

“Then isn’t it dangerous to work as an information broker?”

“On the contrary, it’s a wise choice. He knows that one day his survival will be exposed, so it’s only smart to keep enough information to protect himself.”

Rockbell used the secrets of others to navigate his way through crises and was quietly gathering stories like a rat hoarding scraps, preparing for the next danger. The king had announced that Rockbell had committed suicide after decades of corruption, but Maximón was certain the king had long since suspected that Rockbell was alive. It was simply that, due to the complicated battle with Serith and the ongoing issues at the fortress, the king was reluctantly choosing not to act.

Noctis Fortress was a dreadful warzone and a massive social hub. All the nobles and merchants from Bastronia were like sensitive cats, keeping a close watch on the events unfolding there. The extravagant happenings in the royal palace and castle were no longer of interest.

Every day, hundreds, sometimes thousands, died in Noctis Fortress. It was the true heart of the world. That’s why everyone made sure to attend the ridiculous parties held at the end of the year.

The fortress was filled with many people whose identities could not be pinpointed, and though their eyes and ears were everywhere, they would always return to their master with the gossip they’d overheard. Rockbell did not meet just anyone. Even if someone noticed him, he made sure to hide in unseen places and watch the world from the shadows.

Thus, there were only two people who could meet with the cautious Rockbell in Noctis Fortress—Taylor and Maximón.

It was Taylor who introduced Rockbell to Maximón. When Maximón reached the point where he suspected that Lucas was responsible for the deaths of innocent knights and servants, he thought that the killing must stop and arranged a meeting with Rockbell. Fortunately, Rockbell, too, seemed to take an interest in Edwin Elgort, the hero of Noctis, who was Rockbell’s adopted son.

“But why are you taking me there? If something happens while I’m accompanying you…”

“I know you’re looking for someone important here. It’s not a lover, but probably family, right?”

Maximón’s words surprised Najane, and she flinched visibly before trying to maintain eye contact. She was so startled that she couldn’t manage her expression. Maximón, having likely anticipated this reaction, gave a light laugh.

“Do you remember that I promised to treat you well?”

Najane, looking up at Maximón, couldn’t hide the trembling in her eyes. She said nothing, but her gaze was filled with sincere gratitude.

She hadn’t expected things to unfold like this. She wanted to immediately hug Maximón and thank him. If what Maximón said was true, then Rockbell was a highly skilled information broker. She might finally find a clue as to where Luna was, and her heart began to race with excitement.

During her time as a knight in Romsoa, she hadn’t had the luxury of visiting the black market. She had been anxious as her plans to find Luna seemed to progress slowly, but now, she couldn’t have imagined that this would be the solution.

Trying to calm her excitement and nervousness, Najane occasionally glanced at Maximón. She wanted to hold his hand like last time, but she was too self-conscious. The black market was still crowded and noisy, and the alleys were chaotic with people suddenly popping up from every corner.

Most importantly, Najane kept her hood pulled low to cover her face, but Maximón seemed completely at ease as he strode through the alleys, as though he were a regular in this chaotic place.

After all, if anyone saw Maximón Elgort walking through the black market holding someone’s hand, it would certainly cause a stir. While it was well known that Maximón and Najane shared meals and rooms in the manor, no one dared to gossip about it, fearing the consequences.

Najane tried to keep up with Maximón’s stride, walking quickly, when she suddenly stopped in her tracks at the sound of a cart rumbling toward her. The people in the street cursed and split to the sides. The cart driver shouted for them to move.

The cart sped quickly through the alley. Najane, who had been walking ahead, found herself standing in front of Maximón. He stared at the cart, then glanced at Najane.

“Should I carry you like last time?”

Najane blinked in confusion, then remembered how he had swept her up in his arms in front of the guards. Startled, she shook her head vigorously, making it clear she didn’t want that. Maximón, having expected this, laughed and gestured toward something.

“We’re almost there. It’s over there.”

Maximón pointed to a building with a red roof. The surrounding buildings seemed somewhat familiar. Najane glanced around, realizing she had been here before. She had wandered through the black market searching for Luna and ended up here, where she met Maximón.

Najane’s expression gradually changed as she racked her memory. That day, Maximón had never explained why he was in this place teeming with prostitutes. She had been so disgusted that she felt she had to know the reason, but somehow, she had forgotten her resolve and let it slide…

Unable to suppress her emotions, she recalled the messy, shabby inn where she had become entangled with Maximón, and her face flushed with embarrassment.

Flustered, Najane looked up at Maximón.

“Sir, this place is…”

“It’s near the inn. But we don’t have time to stop by. It’s a shame, but it can’t be helped.”

“…You’re teasing me on purpose, aren’t you?”

“The inn is nearby, and it’s true that we don’t have time, and it’s also true that it’s a shame,” Maximón said, looking down at Najane with a cheeky grin.

“Or should I prove once more that I’m being sincere?”

As he whispered mischievously, Najane quickly took a step back, fearing he might lead her somewhere else.

“Please explain why we’re here first. This place…”

“I told you I was going to introduce you to him.”

At those words, Najane unknowingly turned to look at the three-story building with the distinctive red roof. She had assumed it would be a relatively clean place, given it was a place where information was bought and sold.

With a disgusted expression, Najane stared at the shabby shop. It was just like any other shop in the black market alley. Slave women, drunken customers, and traders dealing in naked slaves…

Through a slightly opened window, the smell of cheap drugs, poorly dried laundry, and the sour, damp scent of people mixed in the lukewarm air. The thin walls were constantly filled with the sounds of women moaning in pain. It was a place she didn’t want to go near at all.

Najane looked at Maximón with a questioning expression, wondering if this was really the right place. But Maximón, seemingly without hesitation, pushed her forward.

Najane was dragged along by Maximón like a cow being led to the slaughterhouse. As they entered the shop, the sound of a woman’s laughter serving customers reached her ears. Trying not to see the scene, Najane turned her head but kept an eye out for anyone who might resemble Luna, especially focusing on any blonde women.

Maximón approached the attendant at the counter and quietly said,

“I’m here to meet Scarlett.”

At his words, the attendant immediately glanced at Najane.

“I’m sorry, but Scarlett can only meet by personal request. No more than two people…”

“When I first came here, your master said the same thing. Tell him. This is the first and last chance you’ll have to meet Najane Schnicks.”

The attendant, who had been responding in a businesslike manner to Najane’s name, finally changed his expression.

“...If that’s the case, please wait for a moment. I’ll ask the master and be right back.”

The attendant left through a side door behind the counter. Najane stood next to Maximón, casting a suspicious glance around the shop.

People, barely clothed, were tangled together on tables with overturned glasses of liquor. Not knowing where to look, Najane stared up at the stained ceiling.

At that moment, the attendant who had gone through the side door emerged from the hallway, walking briskly.

He handed the counter over to a servant, then turned to Maximón and Najane with a polite expression.

“Scarlett has approved your request. Please follow me, and I will guide you inside.”