Red wine

“…My father? I’m afraid he’s passed. I’m only passing through Kendall on my way to study,” Selina said, choosing her words carefully.

Conversing with an old friend like Leisen required utmost caution. He knew her too well—one slip could betray her identity.

“Miss Selina, are you heading to Tianqi Academy?” Leisen asked, using the name on her documents, his brown eyes probing as if brewing something.

“Indeed, the academy’s admissions are soon. I don’t want to waste my youth at home, so I’m trying my luck with my own talents. Who knows, maybe I’ll succeed,” she replied, swirling the remaining ale in her mug.

She’d come to reminisce and gather information, but with Leisen here, that plan was scrapped.

His keen perception had already picked up on subtle cues, suspecting her despite her precautions.

Asking pointed questions now would only deepen his doubts, given how well he knew her.

Better to finish her drink and leave this troublesome place.

“No need to worry, Miss. With your talent, getting into Tianqi is child’s play,” Leisen said, pulling a costly bottle of wine from the counter. With a flick, he popped the cork, and a rich, intoxicating aroma filled the air. Selina’s sharp senses caught the scent, her dark eyes lighting up as her pulse quickened.

Fine wine!

But seeing the bottle, confusion crept in. Leisen reserved such vintages for close friends, never selling or drinking them alone. Why open it now? Had she slipped up?

Impossible.

Her current appearance bore no resemblance to her past self, and she’d restrained her behavior, projecting the image of a refined noble lady. How could Leisen link her to Kant under such a disguise?

If he hadn’t noticed, why this gesture?

“Sir, the ale’s fine, but I’m not much for drinking. I’ll stop here for tonight. Your thoughts?” Selina said, eager to avoid lingering. She had much to do.

Leisen smiled meaningfully. “If you’re at your limit, so be it. Allow me to escort you out.”

“No need, I’ll manage,” she replied calmly, wary of further questioning if he accompanied her.

“How can that do? It’s late, and it’s unsafe alone. Besides, you said you’re here to ‘try your luck.’ Leaving now would make this trip pointless,” Leisen countered, his tone gentle but his eyes burning with intent. “Stay the night. I’ll see you off in the morning, and I have questions for you.”

Selina frowned. Leisen was being bold. But this was an opportunity to probe him in private. “Very well, thank you, sir.”

Leisen’s face lit up, quickly summoning a maid to lead Selina to a room. Once she was gone, his smile vanished, replaced by a grim expression.

“Keep an eye on her. By morning, I want all her details,” he ordered coldly, unconvinced by coincidences.

A girl resembling Kant, arriving just as he returned, heading to Tianqi Academy, and acting as if she knew him? Too convenient.

The next morning, Leisen’s knock woke Selina.

“Leisen?” she muttered, frowning. So impatient—knocking before dawn.

Opening the door, she saw him in a neat tailcoat, standing politely.

“Good morning, Miss. Sleep well?” he asked, unfazed by her cool demeanor.

“Fine. Is something up?” she replied tersely, eager to move on to Tianqi if he had no business.

“I’ve prepared breakfast. Join me before you go?” His tone was warm, but his intense gaze didn’t escape her.

Selina’s brow furrowed. Leisen was persistent. But this was a chance to extract information about Kant. Leaving now would waste it.

“Alright, thank you,” she agreed.

Leisen beamed, leading her to the dining room. The table overflowed with lavish breakfast dishes, creating an awkward atmosphere as they sat across from each other.

“Where are you from, Miss? What brings you to Tianqi?” Leisen asked, his tone mild but his eyes sharp.

Selina sighed inwardly at his directness but saw her opening. “I’m from East Grove, seeking my mentor, Kant, at Tianqi.”

“Kant? Your mentor?” Leisen’s face shifted, his disbelief clear. Too many coincidences—a girl like Kant, a Tianqi student, claiming him as her mentor?

He didn’t buy it.

“Let’s settle the bill. How much for the ale?” Selina asked, feigning ignorance to avoid suspicion.

“One large ale, no ice, ten coppers,” Leisen replied, pouring the rich red wine into a decanter, his focus seemingly on the liquid.

Selina reached for her purse but paused. A trap.

Smiling, she looked at Leisen, who avoided her gaze. “That’s not right, sir. I’ve seen others pay 11 coppers for the same ale. You confirmed it when I ordered. Did you misquote?”

Her sharp mind caught it.

Ten coppers was their old deal, a silent nod to their friendship since she settled her mentor’s tab years ago.

That single copper discount symbolized decades of camaraderie. Paying ten now would confirm Leisen’s suspicions, especially since he’d set this trap from the moment he entered, mentioning 11 coppers.

“Hey, Leisen, ten coppers for her but not for us old-timers? That’s unfair!” a patron jeered.

“Yeah, I’ve drunk here for years, never got a discount or credit!” another chimed.

The crowd’s complaints rose, but Leisen ignored them, swirling the wine in the decanter. “Fine wine needs to breathe after uncorking to reach its peak flavor,” he said, as if to himself.

The wine seemed ready. He met Selina’s eyes, his gaze probing, almost hostile. Despite her racing heart, she kept her dark eyes steady.

Every word was a test, and she couldn’t dodge them all perfectly. To avoid traces of her past, she answered objectively, masking her old habits.

“It smells bitter. I don’t care for it,” she said, sniffing the air carefully.

The response felt oddly familiar, as if she’d been here before, answering similarly.

Leisen’s expression softened, disappointment flickering in his eyes, as if an expected answer hadn’t come.

Relieved, Selina knew her neutral reply had thrown him off. Time to leave. “I’ll leave the payment here. The ale was good. I’ll return if I can.”

She prepared to hop off the stool, but Leisen, no longer dejected, lifted the decanter, pouring the red wine into a pristine goblet. “One more drink before you go,” he said calmly.

“Sir?” Selina frowned, sensing something amiss.

“No charge. My treat,” he said, his kind smile sending a chill through her.

That smile was wrong. Leisen’s rare, genuine smiles always signaled big moves.

“My upbringing forbids accepting drinks from others. I must decline,” she said, her urgency to leave growing.

Turning to go, her departure was thwarted. As she left the stool, Leisen’s eyes narrowed, and he snapped his fingers.

The sharp sound triggered action. Hidden in the tavern’s corners, burly barkeeps sprang up, tossing out drunken or rowdy patrons without mercy.

Shocked customers protested, but Leisen, stone-faced, blocked Selina’s path. Once the tavern was cleared, he bowed deeply to the rattled crowd outside.

“My apologies. We’re handling an issue tonight, so please leave. As compensation, tomorrow’s drinks are on us. Thank you for understanding.”

Faced with Leisen’s cold authority and the stern barkeeps, plus generous compensation, few dared challenge Kendall’s most influential man.

The crowd dispersed, the tavern door slammed shut, and Leisen, surrounded by his staff, turned to Selina, his expression grave.

Holding back an impulsive Cuibis, Selina faced her old friend sternly. “Sir, how have we offended you? Name it, and we’ll make amends. As a frail girl, I don’t want conflict.”

Leisen laughed coldly, approaching the counter and offering the goblet of fine wine.

“No offense. I cleared the place to give an old friend a quiet space to catch up. My best wine is never sold or drunk alone—it’s for sharing with you, isn’t it, my old friend… Kant?”

His steady voice built to a chilling revelation. Selina’s back grew slick with sweat, her pupils contracting sharply.

“All my precautions, and he still figured it out?!”