After eating her fill, Cipher very carefully wrapped the remaining earth beast roast in oil paper.
Carefully, like treasuring a precious item.
Of course, the cat-eared thief still hadn't forgotten her hardened black rye bread loaves.
"Cipher, why is this?"
Ryuga couldn't help asking.
"..."
Cipher fell silent briefly, not answering, only clutching the wrapped bundle in her arms tighter.
After a moment, she pulled her hood brim down lower, covering half her face.
Only after a good while did she realize something was off.
"What did you call me?"
"Cipher. Like the wind, swift as a shadow, coming and going without trace—this name paired with your title as Phantom Thief couldn't be more fitting. You like it?"
Ryuga smiled proudly.
Cipher froze, her gaze flickering slightly: "Mm, Cifera... from now on I'll be called Cipher."
Though her voice was soft, it was firm as iron.
From this moment, Cifera officially changed her name to 'Cipher'.
"..."
Aglaea glanced at Ryuga, her gaze distant. He seemed quite good with children?
...
Goldweaver's Workshop.
"Remember this place, little glutton?"
Aglaea smiled.
"Of course I remember."
Cipher chuckled lightly, reminiscence floating in her eyes.
"I stepped on... quite a few points back then."
As she spoke, she lifted her little chin, her shining eyes carrying some pride yet hiding a bit of guilt.
Then she raised her little nose quite dashingly, her brows lifting as memories seemed to return to that night.
The sweet honey wine still lingered on her tongue.
The grape leaf rice—one bite, full of fragrance.
She still remembered being absorbed playing with the crystal chess pieces, laughing without a care.
The result was drinking herself silly, the whole person floating in the clouds.
Making a complete mess of the workshop hall.
Finally just falling into deep sleep.
When she opened her eyes again, there was a fragrant letter in her hand.
Scared, she quickly ran back to her dark little nest.
"You didn't take the chance to tie me up, and even left me a letter. At the time I even marveled—people in big city-states have so many tricks."
"I waited day after day, but never waited for you to come demand an explanation."
"And that 'Red Little Mushroom'—every time I appeared, she stuffed me with a huge pile of food."
"Tch, acting mature when she's the same height as me. No wait, she's still half a finger shorter than me."
Saying this, Cipher pouted, putting on a disdainful look.
Though she was complaining, her eyes floated with long-lost warmth.
Pff.
Ryuga was somewhat amused.
'Red Little Mushroom' referred to Tribbie, right? Actually quite fitting.
Cifera's naming style was completely 'pictographic naming'.
Stellaron was Gray Kid, Evernight was Snail Princess, that Teacher Hyacine was Wind Gale Pink Pink's junior, Phainon was Savior Little Kid, while Mydeimos was Golden-Haired Little Lion.
As for Aglaea, there were many—Seamstress Lady, Goldweaver Lady, and also... Mama Aglaea.
As for Tribbie?
Not close now, but later would be Big Sis Tribbie.
Ryuga bent down, gently patting Cipher's head.
"What?"
Cipher looked up, her eyes bright and curious.
Really disliked having her head patted, but strangely, she didn't dislike Ryuga doing it—in fact, she rather enjoyed it.
"Just think you're cute."
Ryuga affectionately pinched Cipher's little face again.
Maybe he should raise her as a child bride. (.....?)
"Hmph~"
Cipher snorted lightly, turning her little face away, dodging Ryuga's playful hand, asking Aglaea.
"I'm very curious—in your gorgeous wardrobes, why do you preserve so many tattered, worn cloth scraps?"
"This isn't like you."
Aglaea fell silent briefly: "What should I be like?"
She didn't wait for the cat-eared thief to answer, speaking to herself, her eyes full of sadness.
"The land is filled with strife everywhere. Young soldiers go to war in bright clothes, but when they return their battle garb has become burial shrouds—or they can only bring back a corner of the cloth."
"When no one claims them, I collect these cloth scraps and remember them in my heart."
"I've also destroyed fine clothes in my anger. Those corrupt, pampered nobles don't deserve to wear the garments I weave and parade through the streets."
"Even though I myself was once like that."
Saying this, Aglaea sighed long.
Her eyes lowered, lashes trembling gently.
"After witnessing so much ugliness, I finally understood the duty of being a Chrysos Heir."
Listening, Cipher also fell silent.
Her gaze dimmed, seemingly captured by memories buried deep, unable to speak for a long time.
After a good while, she sighed softly.
"I was born in filthy, dark Dolos."
"There's no dawn there. Sewage winds through stone cracks like rotting veins. Everyone barely survives in the shadows."
Saying this, she looked up at the brilliant Okhema outside, snorting lightly.
"When I came to this city of dawn and saw those cramped, filthy corners, I only felt this place was no different from Dolos."
She laughed coldly.
She sneered.
"Hmph, what Flame-Chase, what heroes?"
"The Chrysos Heirs are all a bunch of fame-seeking frauds."
"By Cifera's experience, there must be unspeakable schemes involved!"
(Ryuga: Worthy of being Cifera—hitting the nail on the head with one sentence.)
Her tone shifted, Cipher's gaze falling on Aglaea, her cold little face suddenly softening for a moment.
"But you're different."
"Want to see where I live?"
"The other side of the bright Holy City—the dark, poor side filled with disease and death."
Saying this, Cipher lowered her head to look at Aglaea's shoes.
Different from the usual golden high-heeled sandals.
"Mm, good thing you changed shoes, or they'd get wet and dirty—those pretty feet of yours."
"Could it be you can also see future, knowing we'd go so you changed shoes?"
Cipher's eyes flashed with curiosity.
No!
Aglaea's face flushed nearly to the point of dripping blood, her ear tips burning hot.
What prophecy?
Purely because the foot-kissing maniac was nearby. She specifically changed shoes just to hide those jade feet she treasured.
"..."
Ryuga's face darkened. His knee felt like it had taken another arrow for no reason.
This won't pass, will it?
He turned to walk outside.
Cipher: "You're not going?"
"No. You two go first. Notify Cerydra to go afterward. The "Plot to Assassinate the Empress" is about to begin. The Elder Council needs a good purge."
Ryuga shook his head. He knew where Cipher was going.
Okhema's sewers—walk to the end of the thickest pipe. There was a little nest, her dwelling.
Additionally, there were some children there.
Presumably the black rye bread and earth beast roast were all brought for them?
...
In the small courtyard.
Hyselins rushed over.
"You two stay here. I'll accompany Cerydra."
"Do whatever you want."
"Chat, cook."
"Just make sure people outside can hear and see, but each time only let them see one of you."
Saying this, Ryuga's form dissolved like ink in water, vanishing in an instant.
Neither was foolish.
Outside the courtyard, roaming Cleaners lurked like hunting dogs, watching the little courtyard.
...
Inside Cloud-stone Palace.
A short yet exceptionally sturdy figure slowly emerged from the shadows.
A big-headed dwarf.
Wearing a pair of red round goggles.
A head of golden messy hair like a lion's mane wildly exploding, a thick white handlebar mustache curling up.
On his back, layers of strange equipment: gears, tubing, glass jars glowing faintly, and a 'wrench' wound with copper wire?
One step forward, metal and leather rubbed with a low hum.
Cerydra froze.
Her taut nerves absurdly jammed at this moment.
This person looked like a deformed creature crawling from the cracks of alchemy tomes, absurdly laughable.
She opened her mouth, her voice dryly squeezing out a sentence: "Lord Ryuga?"
"Mm, this is my Revered Inventor form."
"..."
To be continued…