Chapter 3: Find That Woman
He was a crazy guy. Could a carriage thief be anything but a bad person?
Classie threw the perfume bottle without replying. However, the blood-soaked man easily snatched the perfume bottle away.
This time, Classie pulled a small knife from her handbag.
The man turned around again, his eyes wavering, and gritted his teeth.
“Damn it. What on earth is that handbag for? A weapon stash?”
As Classie unscrewed the knife and raised it high, the man quickly added, “I’m a palace guard knight. I had no choice but to hijack the carriage for work. I’ll officially apologize later, so please stop pulling out weapons from your handbag! It’s terrifying!”
Classie didn’t put away the knife. Instead, she tightened her grip and asked, “How can I believe you?”
The man rummaged through his pocket with one hand and pulled out a black wallet, tossing it inside.
Classie leaned over without bending her waist and stretched her arm to pick up the wallet. When she opened it, one side bore the emblem of the palace guard, with an anti-counterfeit mark engraved above it.
On the other side was a black-and-white photo.
However, the photo was in black and white, and the man’s face was covered in blood, making it impossible to distinguish whether the face on the ID matched his.
‘Knight Hayard.’
Classie firmly memorized the man’s name and closed the wallet. But instead of returning it, she tucked it into her handbag.
The man noticed this but let out a short breath instead of protesting.
* * *
The carriage finally came to a stop after a good while.
Classie continued to grip the knife tightly, looking beyond the coachman’s seat.
If the man were to turn into a robber, she would stab him with this knife immediately.
“There’s someone in the carriage. Wait here.”
But the man didn’t even glance at Classie; he got down from the coachman’s seat and ran off somewhere.
Classie leaned out the window. The place where the man had stopped the carriage was a forest. He was heading deeper into the woods, seemingly chasing someone.
However, as far as Classie remembered, no one had been riding a horse or carriage up ahead. Who on earth was he chasing?
Puzzled, Classie thought this wasn’t the time for hesitation and hurriedly got out of the carriage. The man’s request had already disappeared into the distance.
Classie climbed up to the coachman’s seat and shook the coachman.
“Wake up. Hurry up! Quickly!”
But the coachman, who had been knocked out, didn’t budge.
‘He’s still breathing.’
Classie reluctantly gave up on waking the coachman and grabbed the reins herself.
If she could just confirm that the ID photo matched the man’s face, she would have mustered the courage to keep waiting for him inside the carriage.
However, that basic confirmation was lacking. In that case, instead of risking it and waiting for the man to return, she needed to leave this place quickly.
She had no way of knowing whether the man was a real knight, a robber, a carriage thief, or something else entirely.
“Giddy up!”
As Classie shook the reins, the horse began to move again. Worrying that the man might return, Classie urged the horse on.
Fortunately, the man did not appear until they arrived home.
“Lady? Huh? Lady?”
The coachman woke up only after Classie had stopped the carriage and looked around in confusion.
“Lady? Why are you in the coachman’s seat? I was sure I saw you on the street earlier—”
“You passed out, so I drove.”
“Did I pass out?”
The coachman seemed to have no memory of the blood-soaked man at all.
Classie wiped away the droplets of blood on the coachman’s seat with her hand and nodded.
“You suddenly fainted.”
Once inside the house, Classie took the man’s black wallet and went into the bathroom.
As she sat in the bathtub, Classie carefully examined the name and photo in the man’s wallet when she suddenly realized something.
‘This man in the photo… he’s incredibly handsome!’
Earlier, she hadn’t had the capacity to judge his face, but the man in the picture was exceptionally good-looking.
No, he wasn’t just exceptionally good-looking; he was breathtakingly beautiful.
In her 25 years of life, Classie had only seen two men this handsome.
Classie felt a twinge of regret for not waiting for the blood-soaked man to return from the woods.
If that blood-soaked man was the same as the one in the photo, this could have been a good opportunity.
‘…No. Classie Kalashi, don’t be foolish. It doesn’t matter if they’re the same person or not; either way, it’s no good. A carriage thief can’t possibly be a good person!’
Classie shook her head and tossed the wallet into the clothes basket.
* * *
Dernick was still in the forest.
‘I lost him.’
As he scanned the woods, the faint presence he had felt earlier disappeared, leaving him with nothing. He had even stolen a passing carriage to chase after the man, yet he had let him slip away again.
‘Sister Mary…’
Dernick bit his lip, glaring in the direction the man had disappeared.
Time was on his side anyway. He was young and getting stronger by the day. He would dedicate his life to catching that man.
Dernick sheathed his sword again and headed back to where he had parked the carriage earlier.
“Ha.”
However, when he arrived, there was no carriage. No carriage, no coachman, no strange woman.
He hadn’t come to the wrong place. He had a keen sense of direction. Most importantly, the marks where the carriage had stopped were still clearly visible on the muddy ground.
The wheel tracks in the dirt made a neat circle and led back out from this spot.
Dernick clicked his tongue as he looked down at the traces.
‘I even left my ID with her, and she ran away. It wasn’t my ID though.’
He shook his head, recalling the woman who had taken out the knife from her handbag.
Half of her face was cast in shadow due to the darkness, but her fierce eyes were quite striking. She didn’t look like someone who would wait around if asked to.
Eventually, Dernick began to walk slowly along the path the carriage had taken.
‘Damn it. What now? That woman took the ID! He will never let this go.’
It took Dernick nearly three hours to return home. He dragged his heavy legs and climbed through the window.
He felt a sense of sadness while climbing through the window of his own home, but he didn’t want to cause any commotion.
However, as soon as he got through the window, he found his friend, the knight, elegantly leaning against the wall.
Kishin pulled the lantern’s string as soon as he saw Dernick.
With a click, a soft light illuminated the room, revealing the blood smeared across Dernick’s body.
Dernick gave an awkward smile and waved his hand.
“Hey.”
Then he ran straight to the bathroom without asking Kishin why he was in his room.
However, as soon as he arrived at the bathroom, a long arm appeared and blocked Dernick’s way.
Dernick halted, gripping the doorknob, and squeezed his eyes shut. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes to find Kishin staring at him with an unsettlingly expressionless face.
As soon as their eyes met, Kishin skipped the greeting and asked, “My ID.”
Dernick stammered, eventually mumbling an apology after a moment.
“…Sorry.”
“My. ID.”
Kishin repeated in a cold voice, refusing to accept the apology.
Dernick, giving up on washing up in the bathroom, took out a handkerchief and wiped his face. As the clean silver cloth passed over his bloodied face, his sharp eyes and nose became visible.
When Dernick moved the handkerchief once more, a face so beautiful that anyone asked would be left speechless, had appeared.
This face was distinctly different from the one in the ID that Classie had seen.
Dernick tossed the bloodied handkerchief onto the floor and started rummaging through his clothes, as if he were about to take out the ID.
“Um, about your ID…”
But this was a distraction.
After moving his hands a few times, Dernick immediately turned around and dashed for the window as he sensed Kishin’s guard relaxing.
However, he was caught by the back of his neck after just one step and had to stop again.
“ID.”
Kishin pulled Dernick forward with great force and asked relentlessly. He had looked angry before, but this time he truly sounded furious.
Kishin always spoke in a cold voice, but Dernick knew that there were different levels to his coldness.
“I’m sorry.”
In the end, Dernick confessed honestly.
“A woman stole it.”
Half-truth.
“You have to make sense, Dernick. You’re not so incompetent that you’d get pickpocketed.”
But Kishin didn’t believe him and gripped the back of Dernick’s neck even tighter.
Dernick coughed and patted Kishin’s arm.
“Has this guy been living in deceit? It’s true! A woman with a weapon disguised as a handbag threatened me with a knife and took my wallet—no, your wallet!”
“I’ll have to tell your parents about this.”
“No, wait, I’m sorry. I’ll be honest. The truth is, I showed it to her first because I was in a hurry. But I gave it to her to verify my identity, not to take it! But she didn’t return my wallet; she just took it! It’s true!”
Kishin tossed Dernick onto the floor.
Dernick pretended to fall for a moment, but not wanting to roll on the floor, he quickly regained his balance and extended his hands defensively.
Kishin was doing his best not to say anything harsher to his troublemaking friend, but it wasn’t easy.
The day after tomorrow was the day of the public duel held once every six months. He had to submit his ID for that, even though everyone inside the palace knew his face and skills.
“Then come and find it. My ID.”
Dernick chuckled awkwardly at Kishin’s downward tone.
“Sorry. I don’t know who she is. She looked like a noblewoman, though.”
“Dernick!”
Dernick spoke urgently.
“There’s a party at the Ravenston estate this afternoon. She must have been dressed up and riding in a carriage late in the evening, so she was probably on her way back from that party. Check the women who attended that party. No, I’ll check.”
Kishin turned coldly away.
“How can I trust you? Forget it. I’ll look for it myself.”