The Clumsy Spy and the Sunflower Seeds

After Allen had successfully dizzied Marianne with his peculiar brand of yuri aesthetics, he let out a long, drawn-out sigh. “Hmph, why is it,” he wondered aloud, “that no one truly grasps the exquisite beauty of yuri?”

Just then, Allen’s gaze fell upon a red-haired maid standing not far away, who had been idly cracking sunflower seeds throughout the entire spectacle. With a smile, he beckoned to her. “You,” he called out, “come here for a moment.”

The moment Allen called to another servant, Marianne snapped back to full awareness. She shook her head fiercely, desperately trying to dislodge the strange, bewildering knowledge Allen had just imparted.

Marianne then turned her attention to the red-haired maid, an instinctive sense of alarm rising within her. As the head maid, she had no recollection of ever seeing this woman. It was clear that the red-haired maid was a new recruit, having joined the household during Marianne’s recent absence.

Marianne and Allen had only departed from the Heretical Inquisition yesterday. Since then, they had been swept up in a whirlwind of events: mercenary ambushes, the Laval family’s internal council, a clandestine nocturnal alliance, and Allen’s own emotional collapse and subsequent resurgence. With such a torrent of incidents, she had understandably lacked the capacity to fulfill her responsibilities as head maid, particularly in managing new staff.

A pang of annoyance struck Marianne; she had, unbelievably, allowed a suspicious individual to infiltrate the Laval household. ‘What if this agent causes disruption, endangering the master and young master?’ she fretted. ‘What if this woman ensnares the young master? A man as kind as he would find it impossible to refuse such a troublesome woman!’ This was entirely her failure.

The longer Marianne observed the newcomer, the deeper her suspicion grew. Though they appeared to be of similar age, their professional demeanor was starkly different. This red-haired girl, ostensibly a maid, neglected her duties, brazenly cracking sunflower seeds while openly observing her master’s affairs. It was evident: either she was a greenhorn maid, yet untouched by the harsh lessons of the world, or she had arrived with a specific agenda—perhaps, to… monitor Allen’s every move!

Marianne’s expression hardened, growing cold and resolute. ‘She is an enemy!’ she thought, a fierce determination in her eyes. ‘Such a pest must be eliminated!’

“Don’t be so tense, Marianne,” Allen said, noticing the palpable killing intent radiating from her. He offered a calming hand. “She’s from the Heretical Inquisition.”

“What?!” Marianne exclaimed, her eyes wide as she rounded on Allen. “Young Master, you knew she was from the Heretical Inquisition, yet you willingly remained under her watchful eye?”

Allen offered a mysterious smile. “Don’t worry,” he assured her, “she poses absolutely no threat.”

The red-haired girl, having finished her sunflower seeds, quickly tucked away the bag before reluctantly trotting over. “Do you need something?” she mumbled, her tone distinctly impolite, even laced with a hint of impatience. “I’m quite busy, you know…”

“How dare you address the Young Master in such a manner!” As the head maid, Marianne’s professional indignation flared instantly. ‘What if she’s from the Heretical Inquisition?’ she fumed. ‘As long as she wears this maid’s uniform, she falls under my jurisdiction!’

Allen quickly restrained Marianne, who had fully entered her ‘head maid’ persona, and asked with a genial smile:

– “You’ve been working hard.”

– “It is hard.”

– “Did you have breakfast?”

– “Yes, your family’s food is quite tasty, though the portions are a bit small.”

– “Are you settling in comfortably?”

– “I have a single room; it’s much better than a communal dormitory.”

– “Have you received your wages?”

– “Yes, I thought I wouldn’t get them.”

– “What do you think of me? Am I suspicious?”

The red-haired girl scrutinized Allen, then shook her head. – “Suspicious? Not at all.”

– “How’s my swordsmanship?”

– “Haven’t seen it myself, but it’s said to be quite impressive.”

Marianne watched, dumbfounded, as her young master extracted information from the girl as if coaxing a simple-minded pet, the girl foolishly answering every query. ‘He could probably ask her the color of her undergarments,’ Marianne thought, ‘and she would answer him without hesitation.’ She found herself utterly speechless. No wonder the Young Master claimed she posed no threat; this, then, was the reason.

Allen, for his part, was thoroughly enjoying himself. This rather clumsy spy had hair like a flame, framing a charming face still graced with a hint of baby fat. Her amber eyes, brimming with unmasked curiosity, confusion, and delight, regarded people with the unadulterated sincerity and focus of a small, trusting animal.

If Marianne projected the image of an elegant, enigmatic black cat—unfathomable and occasionally baring sharp claws—then this girl was unmistakably a golden retriever: brimming with curiosity about the world, yet endearingly clumsy. She exuded no aggression whatsoever, her sincerity so profound it was almost transparent, her demeanor guileless and utterly charming. One glance was enough to foster affection, a compelling urge to offer her a treat or gently ruffle her hair.

Sensing that further teasing would only delay their actual business, Allen deftly shifted the conversation. “How has the Heretical Inquisition been faring recently?” The red-haired girl, entirely oblivious to the trap Allen had laid, answered with candid honesty.

– “Same as always, catching heretics. They said I was too stupid, that I’d only hold them back, so they dispatched me here.”

– “How exactly were you dispatched?”

– “They told me to come to the Laval family as a maid, promising free food and lodging, and good meals. So, I came.”

Allen was left utterly speechless. During Marianne’s absence, it was the old butler who oversaw the household staff. It was highly probable that the old butler had recognized her affiliation with the Heretical Inquisition at first glance; yet, charmed by the girl’s genuine honesty, he had magnanimously allowed the red-haired maiden to assume the role of a maid.

“Oh? Did I… did I just give myself away?” the red-haired maid asked, a belated realization dawning on her.

“No, you haven’t,” Allen chuckled. “I actually need someone from the Inquisition within the household to vouch for my innocence. And should the cultists ever return, you’ll be able to summon reinforcements.”

– “So, I can still keep eating here?” Her eyes immediately brightened.

“Eat as much as your heart desires; there’s plenty to go around!”

– “Really?!” Her eyes practically sparkled with delight.

Marianne pressed a hand to her forehead. ‘This simple-minded child… her primary concern is truly just the food?’ she mused.

Allen was utterly pleased with this naturally guileless foodie. He had no desire for a cunning Inquisition spy in his household, one who would meticulously plot his downfall. A liaison from the Heretical Inquisition like her, completely devoid of ulterior motives, was undeniably the ideal choice.

Allen introduced himself with a gentlemanly flourish. “Allow me to introduce myself,” he began, “I am Allen de Laval, the Young Master of the Laval family. And you?”

– “I’m Anna, uh, an Armed Nun from the Heretical Inquisition?”

She spoke with a distinct Imperial accent, and her fiery red hair was indeed a classic trait of Imperial people. Thus, Allen’s curiosity was piqued. “Are you from the Empire?” he inquired.

– “I suppose so? When I was very young, my alcoholic father gambled me away, and then I was sold into the Kingdom. It was the Church that rescued me from the human traffickers.” Anna recounted her past, yet she seemed utterly unaffected by her own tragic experiences, her voice as flat and dispassionate as if she were speaking of another’s fate.

Marianne, contemplating the profound suffering hidden beneath Anna’s detached words, also fell into a somber silence. Had Livia not bravely intervened years ago, eradicating the bandits who had assaulted her village, Marianne herself might well have been spirited away to a foreign land, condemned to the most wretched existence as a s*ave. It was Livia, after all, who had afforded her the opportunity to meet Allen.

– “Later, I grew up in the convent. I’ve always been very strong, even as a child, but I’m clumsy and I eat a lot. Everyone agreed I’d never make a good nun, so they introduced me to the Heretical Inquisition.” Anna proudly patted her well-developed, rather prominent chest. “On my very first mission, I punched a fleeing… uh, what were they called? A False Mark Knight? Anyway, because of that, I became an Armed Nun! But…” She tilted her head, a confused frown marring her brow. “I only use my fists, so why am I called an ‘Armed Nun’? Where are the weapons?”

Allen and Marianne froze, utterly petrified! ‘Punch a False Mark Knight to death?’ they both thought, aghast. ‘Those are elite enforcers of the Scarlet Spiral Cult!’ No wonder her colleagues found her insufferable! This wasn’t a nun; she was a veritable walking, breathing weapon of mass destruction! The Heretical Inquisition knew she was ill-suited for espionage, yet they dispatched her anyway? This wasn’t surveillance; it was akin to tossing a ticking time bomb directly onto his doorstep! ‘She’s exposed her identity, but it’s *I*, Allen, who’s in peril!’ he fumed internally. ‘Damn it! These scoundrels actually unloaded their problems onto me! Just wait and see how I’ll hurl that boomerang right back at them!’

Anna, oblivious to their profound shock, remained preoccupied with the intricacies of her disguise. – “By the way,” she mused, lifting the hem of her maid’s skirt and twirling around, looking left and right, “how did you even figure out I was from the Inquisition? My disguise is pretty decent, isn’t it? I specifically consulted other nuns on how to be a good maid! They even taught me quite a few poses!”

Three dark lines seemed to slide down Allen’s forehead. ‘Poses? What *kind* of poses?!’ he internally shrieked. ‘What on earth do the Church’s nuns usually teach?! Although… *cough, cough*, I am a little curious!’

“There were simply too many flaws,” Allen stated, ticking them off on his fingers. “First, most servants in the Laval household go out of their way to avoid me, practically wishing they could bury their heads in the ground, for they fear incurring the wrath of a ‘troublemaker’ like myself. Second, you are the very first maid, apart from Marianne, who dared to continually stare at me!”

“Oh! I see!” Anna exclaimed, a sudden realization dawning on her. She tilted her head, her eyes wide with clear, innocent curiosity. “So, does that mean you’re a bad person?”

The word “bad person” acted like a trigger, instantly activating Allen’s villainous persona. “Heheheh!” he cackled, a signature villainous laugh, his chin tilted slightly upward. “Indeed! I am the most fearsome villain in this entire world—Ow! Ow, ow, ow! Marianne, why are you pinching me?!” Marianne snatched her hand back, turning her head away, her voice laced with a hint of playful indignation. “Such talk is reserved for my ears alone, Young Master! How could you possibly reveal it to an outsider?” Allen was left utterly speechless. ‘They won’t even let me play the villain?! This life is truly unbearable!’

Ignoring Marianne’s protest, he maintained his villainous smirk, declaring with an air of absolute confidence, “The most crucial detail is that you were cracking sunflower seeds just now.” Both Marianne and Anna looked utterly bewildered. – “What’s wrong with cracking sunflower seeds?” they asked in unison.

To an ordinary person, Anna’s act of cracking sunflower seeds would likely seem unremarkable. However, Allen, a connoisseur of minute details, instantly recognized that sunflower seeds—a perfectly normal snack in modern society—were entirely incongruous with the world-setting of *Starlight Serenade*. Sunflower seeds primarily derive from sunflowers. In the original historical timeline, sunflowers only began to arrive in Europe in the early 16th century, and for a long period, Europeans regarded them merely as ornamental plants. In this alternate world, one that never experienced the Age of Discovery, where would sunflowers come from? The answer was glaringly obvious: the Church! If something didn’t align with the era’s background, it could invariably be attributed to the Church. Since the Church monopolized spices, there was no logical reason they wouldn’t also monopolize other cash crops. If the contents of *The Holy Scripture* and *The Founding History of the Kingdom of Lorraine* were accurate, then the Church very likely possessed a doomsday seed bank left over from the previous cycle. Allen had yet to encounter potatoes or corn. He refused to believe the Church hadn’t preserved these high-yield crops, which could immensely boost productivity and societal development! These Church fanatics were truly callous. Fearing society might advance too quickly, they deliberately maintained this backward agricultural society. But in the past millennium, how many people had starved to death in this world? Could anyone even count them? If the Church had propagated these high-yield crops, humanity would have been spared so much suffering! These cold-hearted bastards of the Church! What right did they have to feign such benevolence?

As this thought consumed him, Allen’s rage surged. As a messenger of God, once he ascended to become the Church’s leader, he vowed to whip the faces of these stagnant, corrupt scoundrels into oblivion!

Putting aside the matter of high-yield crops for now, the fact remained that people of this era were unaware that sunflowers could be used for food or oil, while the Church was perfectly privy to this knowledge. Therefore, when Allen saw the sunflower seeds in Anna’s hand, he swiftly realized her connection to the Church!

“Sunflowers are exceedingly rare in the Royal Capital, and no one knows that their seeds are edible,” Allen explained earnestly. Then, to verify his hypothesis, he inquired of Anna, “This item, it’s only available where the Church monopolizes its cultivation, isn’t it? Does the convent you stayed in grow sunflowers?”

– “Yes!” Anna’s eyes lit up as she nodded happily. “The roasted seeds from the old nun were so fragrant! Even after I left the convent, they often sent them to me!”

Allen couldn’t resist ruffling her soft, red hair, and Anna comfortably closed her eyes. – “Hehe, everyone loves to pat my head.”

“That’s because you’re a simpleton,” Allen chuckled. Marianne was the tsundere cat-type; this one was the guileless dog-type. Perfect.