Chapter 157: Voices
Denzel’s fingers wrapped around the handle.
He pulled the door open just enough to peer outside.
Standing on the porch was a young man a few years older than Sophia, dressed in a neat brown tunic embroidered with a familiar crest over the chest. His posture was straight despite the early hour, and one hand rested respectfully over the other as he waited.
Denzel’s eyes settled on the emblem almost immediately.
The village chief’s household.
A flicker of surprise crossed his face before he could hide it.
"...Good morning."
The messenger offered a polite bow.
"Good morning, Young Master Denzel."
Denzel returned the greeting with a nod, though his curiosity had already begun to grow.
He couldn’t remember the last time anyone from the village chief’s residence had come looking for him.
Had something happened?
The messenger reached into the small pouch hanging from his waist, not to retrieve a letter as Denzel half expected, but simply to adjust the flap before speaking.
"I’ve been instructed to escort you to the village chief’s residence."
Denzel blinked.
"...Me?"
"Yes."
The answer came without hesitation.
"You are expected there this morning."
For a brief moment, Denzel simply stared at him.
Of all the ways he’d imagined this morning unfolding, this certainly hadn’t been one of them.
He’d planned to arrive early at the training grounds.
Perhaps spend a little time practicing the stance the Knight had corrected yesterday.
Instead...
Someone from the village chief’s household was standing at his front door.
His thoughts drifted almost instinctively to his previous visit.
He could still remember slipping into that residence with his heart pounding in his chest, convinced that every servant who walked past somehow knew he wasn’t supposed to be there.
The study.
The shelves lined with books.
The village chief sitting calmly behind his desk.
Then...
Aisha.
The memory surfaced so naturally that Denzel almost sighed.
Could this have something to do with her?
It seemed unlikely.
After all, why would she send someone from the household instead of coming herself?
Unless...
His brows drew together ever so slightly.
"...May I ask who requested my presence?"
The messenger gave an apologetic smile.
"I’m afraid I wasn’t told."
Denzel studied the young man’s expression for a moment.
There wasn’t the slightest sign of deception.
If he knew anything more, he certainly didn’t show it.
"So you only came to bring me there?"
"Yes."
The messenger inclined his head again.
"I was instructed to escort you safely to the residence."
Denzel’s gaze drifted past him toward the quiet street.
The cool morning breeze stirred the leaves overhead, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and fresh bread from one of the nearby homes.
Everything looked perfectly ordinary.
Yet for some reason...
He couldn’t shake the feeling that something unexpected awaited him.
His mind wandered through one possibility after another.
Had the village chief discovered something?
No...
If that were the case, sending a polite messenger seemed strangely gentle.
Perhaps there was another matter entirely.
Or...
Was Aisha somehow involved?
The thought lingered despite himself.
He remembered the last conversation they’d shared.
Her unwavering loyalty.
The way she’d looked at him.
A faint crease formed between his brows.
"..."
No.
Standing here making guesses wouldn’t accomplish anything.
Whatever the reason was, he’d find out soon enough.
Denzel looked back at the messenger and gave a small nod.
"Give me a moment."
"Of course."
The messenger stepped aside to wait.
Denzel slipped back inside the house, closing the door quietly behind him.
The familiar silence greeted him once more.
His eyes instinctively wandered toward the hallway leading to Maria’s and Sophia’s rooms.
Both doors remained shut.
Neither of them appeared to be awake.
He considered leaving a note before dismissing the idea.
If he wasn’t back before they woke, the messenger would likely explain where he’d gone should anyone ask around.
Besides...
He doubted this visit would take very long.
After tightening the belt around his waist one final time and making sure his practice sword rested securely at his side, Denzel returned to the entrance.
The messenger was waiting exactly where he’d left him.
"Shall we?" the young man asked.
Denzel nodded.
"Lead the way."
Without another word, the messenger turned and started down the quiet street.
Denzel fell into step behind him.
The village slowly awakened around them.
Shopkeepers lifted wooden shutters one after another, revealing shelves that had sat hidden through the night. Elderly neighbors swept the fronts of their homes while exchanging cheerful greetings with those passing by. Children chased each other between narrow streets despite their mothers calling after them to slow down.
Usually, Denzel found mornings like this relaxing.
Today...
He barely noticed any of it.
His thoughts remained fixed on the destination ahead.
The last time he’d walked toward the village chief’s residence, he’d been worried about getting caught.
Now he was walking through the front gate by invitation.
For some reason...
That felt even more unsettling.
The two of them walked in silence.
The messenger neither hurried nor slowed his pace, maintaining the same measured stride from the moment they left Denzel’s home.
Denzel matched it without difficulty.
Even so, his thoughts refused to remain as steady.
His gaze wandered over the familiar streets as they passed through the village.
Merchants were beginning to arrange baskets of vegetables outside their stalls. The scent of freshly baked bread drifted from a nearby bakery, drawing a small line of early customers to its entrance. A blacksmith had already begun his work for the day, each strike of his hammer ringing clearly through the crisp morning air.
It was the same village he’d walked through countless times.
Yet today, everything seemed oddly distant.
His mind remained occupied by the question he still couldn’t answer.
Why had he been summoned?
He replayed his conversation with the messenger.
Nothing.
The young man either genuinely didn’t know or had been instructed not to say.
Neither possibility helped ease Denzel’s growing curiosity.
Without realizing it, his thoughts drifted back to his previous visit.
He remembered following the same roads, though under entirely different circumstances.
Back then, every step had been accompanied by the fear of being seen.
He’d constantly glanced over his shoulder, convinced someone would stop him before he ever reached the residence.
Instead...
He’d met Aisha.
The memory surfaced with surprising clarity.
Her silver hair.
Her calm voice.
The unwavering respect she insisted on showing him no matter how many times he’d tried to stop her.
A faint sigh escaped him.
"..."
Could this somehow be because of her?
The possibility had crossed his mind more than once since opening the door.
But the more he considered it, the less certain he became.
If Aisha truly wanted to see him...
Would she really send someone from the village chief’s household to fetch him?
Wouldn’t she have found a quieter way?
Unless she simply couldn’t leave the residence.
That thought lingered for a moment before another quickly replaced it.
Or perhaps...
His expression grew slightly more serious.
Something happened.
Perhaps the village chief had discovered their previous meeting.
Perhaps someone had seen them together afterward.
Perhaps...
He stopped himself.
There was little point imagining one possibility after another.
He’d know the truth soon enough.
Ahead of him, the messenger slowed.
"We’re here."
Denzel lifted his eyes.
The village chief’s residence stood proudly behind its stone walls, looking every bit as imposing as he remembered.
Morning sunlight reflected off the tiled roof while several servants moved quietly through the courtyard beyond the entrance.
The large wooden gates stood open.
Two guards stationed beside them immediately recognized the messenger.
One of them gave a brief nod before stepping aside without question.
No one stopped Denzel.
No one even looked surprised to see him.
He found that strangely reassuring.
The messenger led him through the courtyard at an unhurried pace.
Denzel’s eyes moved almost unconsciously across the surroundings.
There.
The path where he’d first entered.
The corridor he’d walked through before.
Even the small garden looked exactly as he remembered.
It felt as though very little had changed since his last visit.
Only his circumstances had.
Last time, he’d entered this place trying not to be noticed.
Today...
He had been invited.
The difference should have made him feel more comfortable.
Instead, it somehow had the opposite effect.
The messenger climbed the short staircase leading into the residence.
Denzel followed closely behind.
Neither of them spoke.
The quiet footsteps echoed softly through the spacious hallways before the messenger finally stopped in front of a familiar wooden door.
He raised a hand and knocked gently.
A moment later, he pushed it open.
"Please wait here."
Denzel stepped inside.
The room immediately stirred old memories.
Bookshelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling.
The broad wooden desk still occupied the center of the room.
Even the chair behind it hadn’t moved.
It was the same study.
The very place where he’d first spoken with the village chief.
The messenger offered another respectful bow.
"I’ll inform them you’ve arrived."
Before Denzel could respond, the young man quietly withdrew, pulling the door closed behind him.
Click.
Silence settled over the room.
Denzel remained where he stood.
For a few seconds, he simply listened.
Nothing.
No footsteps.
No voices beyond the door.
Only the faint crackling of incense burning somewhere nearby.
He slowly let out the breath he’d been holding.
His eyes drifted toward the large chair behind the desk.
Without meaning to, he imagined the village chief walking through the door at any moment, taking that seat once again and calmly asking him questions he wasn’t prepared to answer.
His shoulders stiffened ever so slightly.
"...I really don’t like waiting."
The quiet mutter had barely left his lips—
Creak.
The door behind him began to open.