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It was nighttime.
Thud…
A wooden cup hit the table with a dull sound.
Thud…
Once more.
Thud… Thud…
And then twice again.
Thud…
The owner of the cup quietly tapped the wooden cup against the table.
Across from them sat not a knight in armor, but a person in a robe with a hood pulled up, openly signaling their identity despite what seemed to be a secretive visit—Commander Rowen of the Order of the Holy Knights.
The owner of the tent, Louise von Schwartz, was simply tapping the wooden cup against the table. It was an action without apparent meaning. Although she had let the commander of the Holy Knights in following her sudden midnight visit, all Louise did after that was tap the cup against the table.
“Should I come again at a different time?” asked Rowen with a smile. It seemed Louise had no intention of having a conversation, and she was willing to return another time if necessary.
Louise quietly pushed the wooden cup toward her instead of answering. Her sudden action left Rowen looking puzzled.
“Are you giving this to me?”
“As you wish.”
Louise peered into the cup in front of her and saw that it was filled with an opaque, milky liquid.
A cup had been handed over to her out of nowhere, containing a liquid of unknown origin.
Rowen picked up the cup and drank it all in one go.
Louise quietly watched Rowen as she gulped down the contents.
“Ugh…”
After emptying the cup, Rowen put down the wooden cup, covered her mouth, and took a few deep breaths.
“I drank it because I didn’t really care if it was poison, but poison would have been better. What is this?”
She gagged again.
“It’s really thick, sour, and sticky… and quite unpleasant… Um… What is it…?”
Rowen, who rarely showed any expression, looked rather displeased.
“Is it alcohol?” she asked.
The mysterious liquid could not be anything else but alcohol.
Louise nodded.
“The priests of Ouen do have a precept against drinking.”
It had been a malicious act. The issue wasn’t just the taste...
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