Chapter 20: Chapter 17: Assassinating Freya
November 18th, 1987. 6:00 PM.
Inner London. Westminster Bank District, Buckingham Palace.
Lights, carriages, Knights, lions, red carpets, swords and blades, and fir trees blurred into a black mass. From a distance, they resembled a forest of upright Lances.
The rain had stopped, leaving a faint, damp scent in the air.
One by one, nobly dressed gentlemen and ladies in elegant gowns descended from their carriages. As the lights shone down, beside a red carpet strewn with flower petals, Lion-eyed Knights mounted on great Silver Lions performed a pure and ancient Knight’s salute to every guest.
"Why are there so many people at Buckingham Palace today?" someone asked from the shadows.
An answer came immediately. "Anthony, the eldest son of Lancelot’s Family and Leader of the Lion Eye Knight Order, was assassinated by that Bloodless from the Constantine Family who left the Inner Side.
"Now the position of Knight Order Leader is vacant. All the Knight Law families on the Inner Side are vying for the chance to make one of their own Knight Law Enforcers the new leader of the Lion Eye Knight Order."
A beam of light swept over from the distance, illuminating the shadows.
"Ronnie!" The person who had answered rubbed his eyes when he saw the face in the shadows, thinking he was seeing things. "Aren’t you supposed to be herding sheep at a Scottish Farm? What are you doing here?"
"Ronnie" clapped the man’s shoulder. "To be honest with you, I’m working for Lancelot’s Family at Buckingham Palace now. I’m their newly hired security. We can catch up next time."
The man’s shoulder throbbed with pain from the clap. He grimaced as he watched Ronnie retreat back into the shadows.
He wondered how his childhood friend had gotten so much stronger. And what kind of position was "security" anyway? ’It sounds like some kind of military role.’
But in recent years, the Inner Side had been peaceful. The Old Race, the Dwarf Elves, and the Dragon Race had all been getting along. There shouldn’t be any wars.
Unless... As if struck by a thought, he turned and asked someone nearby in a trembling whisper, "Is the Foggy Day coming again soon?"
...
Outside the Bass limestone walls of Buckingham Palace, Baron, who had changed into an Attendant’s uniform beforehand, timed his move perfectly. Following a floor plan of the estate provided by Bagins, he vaulted over an unguarded thicket of rose thorns.
"Who’s there?" someone shouted.
Baron’s heart sank. He hadn’t expected to run into a group of Attendants pushing a food trolley here.
This group of Attendants seemed to have received excellent aristocratic etiquette training; they walked without a sound. Coupled with the noisy surroundings, Baron hadn’t heard their footsteps.
"You..."
The Chief Steward leading them stared at Baron with suspicion and uncertainty. Baron’s heart tightened, and his hand slowly reached for the revolver under his hem...
"What took you so long!"
The Chief Steward angrily demanded to know why he had been wandering around, then thrust the food trolley into his hands.
Baron breathed a long sigh of relief.
’The Chain of the Imitator really is useful,’ he thought.
But the Chief Steward’s next words made Baron’s heart, which had just been settling, practically explode.
He leaned in close to Baron’s ear.
"Number 2 saw Freya enter the bedroom a little while ago. You’re Number 3. Remember your mission. Be quick. After the assassination, leave through the secret door in the art gallery, behind the Da Vinci painting, *Portrait of a Young Man*."
’Assassinate Freya? Me? So I’m playing the part of an assassin!? Wait, if she dies, what am I supposed to do?’
Baron’s heart sank. ’My luck is rotten as always,’ he thought.
Still, he nodded with an unchanged expression and pushed the food trolley toward Freya’s bedroom.
’Whatever their ultimate motive is, all that matters is that I get to see Freya.’
Besides, Baron figured he could even use this "assassination mission" to show Freya his sincerity. Kill two birds with one stone.
...
He crossed the courtyard, the red carpet, and passed the piercing gazes of the Lion-eyed Knights. He went past the towering Lancelot monument and weaved through the luxuriously decorated and magnificent palace interior.
Baron finally stopped before a sessile oak door decorated with white paint and brass.
He glanced at the two Lion-eyed Knights standing guard, their gazes fixed forward. Clearing his throat, he told them he was an Attendant delivering a meal to Miss Lancelot.
One of the Lion-eyed Knights lifted the silver lid on the trolley. His pupils glowed an emerald green as his eyes scanned the prepared pastries for a moment.
He turned, knocked on the door, and announced Baron’s purpose. A moment later, a crisp "Come in" sounded from within the room.
The door swung open on its own, but there was no one behind it. It was as if a gust of wind had pushed it open.
With more caution than he would use in a team fight in a video game, Baron mimicked the aristocratic stride of the Attendants from memory and pushed the trolley into the lavishly carpeted bedroom.
The moment he entered, the Chain of the Imitator quietly deactivated to avoid any misunderstanding.
The door closed behind him, and Baron shivered for no reason. The scene felt just like a horror movie, where the Evil Ghosts block the hero’s escape route at the last second, dooming him to failure.
This was especially true since not a single light was on in the bedroom, and the sparsely furnished space felt particularly gloomy.
"Just leave it on the table in the sitting room."
This wasn’t just a bedroom; it also contained a sitting room, a collection room, and a wine cellar. It was practically a miniature manor!
Baron followed Freya’s instruction, placing the pastries from the trolley onto the dining table in the sitting room one by one.
He noticed the latest newspaper in the sitting room and silently tucked it away into his Holding Ring.
After finishing, he quietly began to push the trolley away. As he was about to leave, he looked up and vaguely saw the graceful silhouette of a person on the bed, hidden behind a draped canopy.
’I have to hurry.’
Baron glanced at the time, gritted his teeth, and bowed.
"Miss Freyja Lancelot, I offer my sincerest apologies for the harm I caused you yesterday."
"Huh? Hah?"
A thick, masculine voice transitioned smoothly into a feminine one, clearly coming from behind the canopy.
Baron sensed something was wrong. Mumbling an apology, he suddenly threw back the canopy.
A hairy, size 45 foot shot out from the bed. Baron quickly grabbed it and yanked the person out from under the covers.
The two of them locked eyes—one a golden-haired gorilla, the other a handsome, black-haired stud!
...
"Mighty hero, what arm strength! Spare me! I really didn’t mean to walk in on your affair with Miss Freya!"
Beaten black and blue by Baron, Jack Caesar Napoleon Hannibal Bismarck Tang—a self-proclaimed D Level Commissioner from Westminster People’s Bank—crouched in the corner with his hands over his head in a textbook display of surrender.
Baron tried his best not to think about why the night’s events had taken such an unexpectedly bizarre turn, or why this golden-haired gorilla’s name was so long it sounded like a username from a knock-off app.
He calmly asked Jack why a commissioner from Westminster Cathedral would be in Freya’s private chambers.
"Besides loans, investments, and asset management, the duties of a Westminster Bank commissioner also include containment."
Seeing that Baron wasn’t paying attention, Brother Jack waddled over to the sitting room table and grabbed a cookie.
"Containment?" Baron was confused. "What are you doing containing things at Buckingham Palace?"
Jack chewed and chewed, his eyes darting about. "Well... uh... you see... Lancelot’s Family is a famous family for containing Taboo Items... and my performance hasn’t been up to par... If I get demoted to E Level, I’ll lose my bonus..."
Baron understood instantly. So this guy was a Taboo Item Thief.
"Then what are you doing in here? And where’s Freya? Where is she?"
Jack grabbed a piece of cherry cake and chewed. "I dunno... When I got here, there was no one in the bedroom. I had just found the switch for the secret room when you came in with the trolley... so I hid in the bed..."
Baron waved him off, telling him not to say any more. He could guess what happened next.
He sighed silently. ’My luck is really the worst.’
Suddenly, a knock came from the door.
The Lion-eyed Knights must have decided that this Attendant, Baron, had been in Miss Freya’s private chambers longer than the acceptable time limit. They were now thoughtfully inquiring from outside the door if Miss Freya was feeling unwell.
Baron urged Jack to quickly use his previous female voice to trick them. But Jack, who had been stuffing his face, suddenly froze. His body twitched, and his face turned beet red. Baron almost thought he was about to pass out.
Then the redness subsided, and he let out a huge, almost deafening belch.
Baron stared at Jack in silence. Jack looked a little embarrassed and scratched his head.
"I know where the secret room is," he said. "Follow me."
...
The bedroom door was pushed open.
The two Lion-eyed Knights entered, one hand on the hilt of their sword, calling out to check on Miss Freya.
The only response was a muffled sound that seemed to echo in the profound silence of the night.
It was the sound of something being pushed open, then closed again.
