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"I’m not sure what you were imagining, but I’m just an ordinary person."
Sensing the tension in the air easing slightly, I slipped my hand into my pocket.
Even though they knew I wasn’t carrying any weapons, they were probably still wary of a hidden blade or something.
As if I could ever be some seemingly ordinary but actually elite assassin. That kind of person only exists in stories.
...Though, to be fair, my life feels as chaotic and unpredictable as any character in a book.
I pulled out the letter I’d received from Jennifer and handed it to the steward standing nearby.
Directly handing a letter to a noble was a breach of etiquette, sometimes even punishable. This was one of the basic manners Sara and the others had drilled into me.
The Marquis of Endlord opened the letter, scanned its contents, and then raised an eyebrow with a slight smirk.
His gaze shifted, not to me, but to Ivy, who was perched lazily on my shoulder, yawning.
"So, that turtle is probably at the center of all this, huh? Not a bad guess, right?"
...It seemed the marquis had a sharp eye for observation, as expected of someone in his position.
With just one look, he’d figured out I was an ordinary human.
Even knowing I’d ridden a griffin, he didn’t let that skew his perception.
And to deduce that Ivy was the focal point of the commotion so quickly... impressive.
Seeing my surprise, the marquis let out a hearty laugh.
"Nah, the Adventurer’s Guild told me the turtle was freakishly strong, and that you were just a regular guy. I just pieced together the rest and made it sound convincing. If that impressed you, you’d probably fall for a shady fortune teller and get swindled out of everything you own!"
He laid out the trick with a grin, his rough demeanor oddly disarming.
...Maybe I’d been too thrown off by his eccentric appearance as a marquis.
When you think about it, it wasn’t a hard conclusion to reach if you had some prior information.
It seemed I was so nervous my brain wasn’t working properly.
"Anyway," he continued, "the escort job was just an excuse. I mainly wanted to meet you and get a sense of who you are. Oh, and there’s the matter of the damages caused by the griffin."
When I admitted I didn’t have the money to pay for the damages right away, he waved it off. "Don’t worry about paying the full amount. Just taking on the escort job is good enough for me."
To the marquis, having me—a griffin rider—accept the role of escorting his daughter seemed to hold significant value.
"I haven’t had anything exciting happen around here lately, so this’ll liven things up for a while. Who knows, maybe I’ll start selling griffin buns or griffin-branded drinks. If that happens, I’ll cut you in on the patent fees."
It seemed the marquis was already thinking about profiting from the griffin’s notoriety.
Sure, the griffin had a lot of recognition, and turning it into a local specialty could bring benefits... probably.
Still, the thought of that henchman-like griffin becoming a famous mascot was slightly unsettling.
Two things worried me:
First, the possibility of me becoming famous by association.
Second, whether it was okay to market that griffin as a representative of its kind.
What if a whole flock of griffins showed up later, demanding to clear their species’ name and setting the record straight?
...No, I’m overthinking it. Not all magical beasts have human-like sensibilities like Ivy.
At least, it didn’t seem like the marquis viewed Ivy and me as threats to be eliminated or exiled. That was reassuring.
Even though we hadn’t been in this town for long, I found myself liking its people. They seemed welcoming in their own way.
Afterward, I ended up explaining how I’d acquired Ivy and the sequence of events leading to the griffin’s taming. Time flew as we talked.
It was a dense, meaningful conversation, even if it was mostly me answering questions.
Still, letting someone get to know us wasn’t a bad thing.
While the marquis didn’t explicitly say he’d protect us, his words and demeanor hinted that he held a certain fondness for Ivy and me.
That was enough for now.
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