Chapter 4 Yesterday, something in the tavern made him instinctively think...

To be honest, Lucas didn't trust anything his sister said. After all, when he was five, Elaine told him that the smoked fish they ate every night was cut from a mermaid's tail, which made him not touch any seafood for three whole months.

At the age of seven, she said she had a brilliant idea to win the heart of Lord Maurice's youngest daughter, so she braided his hair into two pigtails and took him to a royal banquet, leading the Maurice family to believe that they had misremembered the gender of Deville's second son.

On her tenth birthday, she tearfully revealed a shocking secret to him: he had actually been found by Gracia one morning in a mound of dirt in the back garden, and she was the only real princess. This caused him to rush into the royal chambers in tears to question the king and queen, only to be met with bursts of laughter, for his appearance was a spitting image of the young king.

But this time, Elaine led them to her bedroom, closed the door tightly, and then said:

“I don’t know any information, but perhaps my ‘little butterflies’ do.”

"Little butterflies" refers to the lower classes who pass messages to Elaine, usually beggars, vagrants, and orphans.

Lucas immediately understood what she meant, but how could the prince associate with those people?

He rolled his eyes, wondering how the action of rolling one's eyes was represented on a cat's face.

“My intelligence network spans the entire city, and I have connections in other territories as well,” Elaine said. “You know the Yesterday’s Tavern in the Lower City, right?”

“I know.” “I don’t know,” Lucas and Ashlin said at the same time.

“Go there and find a red-haired woman named Cassandra. Dressed as a witcher. She should be on good terms with Sanova,” Elaine said. “I’ve been trying to find her for the past few days because I’ve written her many letters inviting her to chat and meet, but I haven’t heard from her… until a little butterfly told me that people last saw her at the tavern yesterday.”

Lucas and Ashlin looked at each other in bewilderment.

Could it be a coincidence that a mage and a demon hunter, who are friends, have both disappeared without a trace?

"When was the last time people saw her?" Ashlin asked.

Elaine shook her head.

That's all I can tell you.

“That’s a lot of information,” Lucas said sarcastically.

“I’ll cover for you.” Elaine ignored him. “Father and Queen will only know that His Highness is sending a cat away. Good luck, I still have a sword lesson to attend.”

Before seeing them out, she winked at Ashlin: "Take good care of him for me, okay?"

Before Lucas could retort or press her for an explanation as to why she thought he needed to be cared for by a careless little witch who could even mispronounce spells, the door was slammed shut.

“But I can’t use illusion magic again today,” Ashlin thought. “The guards will become suspicious.”

“We can wait until sunset to set off. You just need to hide your head in your hood and pretend to be my maid. Just grab something and say it’s a cat.”

Lucas groomed his fur, feeling a surge of irritation.

His father had no right to kick him out of the restaurant... any room in the palace was far dirtier than he was! He didn't want to hide on the ground, trapped between the witch's legs.

He stole a glance at the instigator. The blonde girl was struggling to undo his cloak and fine undershirt, but in the end, she didn't use her hands to do so, and instead chanted a spell.

Now, Lucas is a little worried that Mr. Bailey isn't as good as he thought, after all, he taught a clumsy troublemaker like Ashley.

Lifting the black cat's curse isn't that important; what's more crucial is Mr. Bailey's disappearance. Even if he's perfectly healed, he'll still come out looking for Sanova Bailey. He was healed by Mr. Bailey when he was very young. Regardless of whether his father likes magicians, Lucas won't abandon him.

But why did he escape death's grasp? He was genuinely curious about the principles of Ashlin's magic, but the witch's mind seemed either empty or a jumbled mess, completely ignorant of the intricacies of magic. Some people just don't know how to cherish their opportunities, he thought with a hint of resentment, but it wasn't Ashlin's fault.

His plan was about to come to fruition. Everything would have been different.

As the sun was about to set, Lucas began to feel restless, as if ants were crawling all over his body.

Finally, the evening bells rang. Lucas felt himself grow taller suddenly, stretched vertically like dough rising; clothes replaced his black fur and returned to his body; the extra tail was nowhere to be seen.

He touched his face and body with a mixture of joy and disappointment, feeling his human bones, skin and black hair. Then he swayed to his feet, like a newborn, and straightened his sleeves, brushing off the remaining cat hair.

It's a stroke of luck that I didn't turn into a human naked; it seems even curses have some dignity.

At the same time, something seemed to be changing within him: the wildness from his feline nature was fading, and he no longer so eager to grab things, run, lick his fur, or randomly yell at someone to complain about his misfortune.

He calmed down, and a strange clarity struck him. The things he had done in cat form were like drunken actions, as if they were the memories of another soul.

This sent chills down his spine, even diminishing his joy at turning back into a human.

What had he done? Complaining about his respected teacher in the restaurant, flying onto the table to provoke his father? He remembered clearly that impulsive urge to blurt it out.

Of course, Ashlin said it for him. But were those his true thoughts? Perhaps partly. But he shouldn't, and wouldn't, actually say them.

That would be too arrogant. How could he dare to claim that he was more knowledgeable than his much older teachers?

Lucas tucked his hair behind his ear, put his hands in his hair, and kept thinking back.

Unlike science, magic is often flexible and adaptable. The same spell can have different effects on different people, even when spells are confused. Could this mean that a beast lurks within him?

Ashlin opened her mouth slightly, her gaze towards him somewhat blank and bewildered, as if she suddenly didn't recognize him anymore.

But then again, she didn't know him at all.

The witch stepped forward and tugged at Lucas's shirt, frowning.

“You really have changed back.” She seemed disappointed, then added, “...Your Highness.”

After turning back into a human, she seemed to remember that he was a prince, and she became more polite than before.

No matter what, they were not from the same social class; it was just that turning into a cat had narrowed the gap between them.

The thought of Elaine made Lucas's heart sink again.

"I'm sorry, yes." He snapped out of his reverie and decided to stop thinking about those random things later.

He spoke in a light tone, one hand behind his back and the other outstretched, making an inviting gesture to Ashlin.

"Shall we go, Miss Bailey?"

Ashlin shrank her green fluorite staff to the size of a bouquet of flowers and tucked it behind her waist. They easily slipped past the guards and rode all the way to the lower town, stopping in front of the tavern with yesterday's sign hanging on it.

Before going in, Lucas stopped Ashlin.

"You need to understand... this is all people from the lower city, and they won't be very friendly to a little witch like you."

“And it’s even less friendly to a prince like you,” Ashlin said sharply, shoving Lucas aside. “I’ve lived in the forest by Foxtail Bend since I was a child, Your Highness. Do you think I’ve never been to a tavern?”

"I'm just advising you to be careful, just in case you get into trouble." After all, she seemed like the kind of person who could attract trouble at any moment, so he kept those words to himself.

His father often warned him about things in the lower town. Seven or eight years ago, Lucas skipped school to play with the kids in the lower town, and the incident didn't end well: the kids betrayed him, and his father confined him to his quarters for two whole months.

Not to mention that time not long ago when he secretly went to the underground trade in the lower city. At that time, he had to pretend to be a homeless child who had fallen on hard times, moving between smugglers and foreign merchants, in order to buy that bottle of blue herbs.

The witch laughed, revealing two fangs: "Trouble? Forgive my bluntness, but Your Highness, you are my biggest trouble."

But in the end, he just grinned at her and followed her into the tavern.

The aroma of malt liquor and cider wafted through the air, mingled with the smells of sweat and earth. The tables were arranged crookedly, and a delicate hourglass sat atop the fireplace.

The hourglass seemed out of place in such a rough place, and Lucas guessed that it probably held some unique sentimental value for the boss.

A cacophony of sounds buzzed around Lucas's ears. He was secretly relieved that, at least for now, being human, he didn't have to endure the cat's terrifying hearing.

However, every second he spent there was torture. His blue cloak barely touched the ground, yet it made the hairs on his body stand on end.

What was even more unsettling was that something in the tavern made him instinctively want to escape. But he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

Ashlin, on the other hand, seemed quite cheerful, looking back with curiosity at all the unfriendly-looking people.

"It's no different from the tavern near my home."

Lucas felt uneasy as he walked through the ragged patrons. He tried to ignore the undisguised stares and whispers, but couldn't help secretly observing them.

Even though they lived not far apart, he felt like he belonged to a completely different world. This gave him a strange feeling in his stomach.

A drunkard lay half-slumped on a bench, seemingly never to wake up again; two young men leaned against the wall, arguing like they were about to duel about whether the origin of the world was air or earth; several children rushed past his legs, barefoot.

His gaze swept over several burly men in leather jackets throwing dice, a haggard-looking farmer, and a shopkeeper constantly wiping bottles. It almost swept over the red shadow on the table, but he stopped in time.

The red-haired woman was burly and dressed in witcher attire: tight leather armor, a dark cloak, and tall leather boots, with a chimera printed on the scabbard at her waist.

She stood on the table, swaying unsteadily, and shouted:

“…and then, like this,” she slammed her fist on the table, making the glasses rattle, “the Hydra’s head rolled onto the floor and almost crushed me to pieces!”

The group of people around her burst into laughter upon hearing her words.

Lucas nudged Ashlin.

"there."

Although he had guessed this would happen, he was still a little surprised:

Ashlin walked straight over.

"Hey, good evening! Are you Cassandra?"

The witcher stopped talking and began to scrutinize him. "I am indeed. How so?"

Lucas stepped forward and coughed.

"Good heavens! Isn't this the princess's little brother, Lucas!" The witcher threw down his wine glass and leaped off the table. Lucas thought there was an earthquake when he landed. "The last time I saw you, you were just a crying little baby!"

Now, all eyes in the tavern turned to him; everyone knew that the prince was in the tavern in the lower city and had been seen by the witcher when he was a child.

Lucas's smile froze on his face, his cheeks burning.

The sun god is above. Why doesn't he just dig a hole and crawl inside?

"It seems the princess's friends remember all the details," he said through gritted teeth.

The Witcher slammed his thick arm down on Lucas, causing him to stumble and have to grab onto a nearby wooden table for support.

"Oh! Look at your thin frame." She flashed a set of pearly white teeth. "Don't be shy, I'm an old friend of your sister's."

Like an old friend, she put her arm around his shoulder.

“Listen to me, Your Highness. If you want to win a girl’s heart,” she glanced at Ashlin and whispered to Lucas, “you need to work out more. I have a few fitness tips…”

To be honest, Lucas didn't think he was particularly strong, but he wasn't exactly skinny either.

Compared to the strength and explosiveness of a Witcher, he was more agile and nimble. Even if he couldn't defeat Elaine or the Witcher, he wasn't just a pretty face in the palace bedroom. All those years of swordsmanship lessons couldn't have been wasted.

However, the woman beside him was so strong that she looked like a wild bear, almost like she had beastman blood.

“I see! Stop calling me ‘Madam,’ just call me Cassandra.” Cassandra slapped her thigh. “Ha, I thought you brought your girlfriend on a secret date, after all, the prince rarely shows his face in the lower city.”

Besides, he can't just date any girlfriend; what awaits him in the future is a marriage alliance between the lord's children.

"Please don't say that. If word gets out, Miss Bailey and I will both be in big trouble."

Ashlin nudged her fluffy golden head closer, like a dog eager to join the game.

"What? Someone's going to meet with bad luck? Don't talk behind my back."

“No one,” Lucas returned to the main point, “Cassandra, we are looking for the whereabouts of Archmage Sanova Bailey, and Princess Elaine sent us to ask you.”

Surprisingly, Cassandra's smile vanished faster than a downpour, and her gaze turned icy.

A note from the author: