The journey to the Baron's mansion felt far too long.

For reasons I couldn't fully explain, unease crept over me. The silence was unsettling. The city was eerily quiet, not a soul in sight. It was strange. As we crossed the main plaza, it was hard to believe such a bustling place could be completely deserted. My instincts screamed that something terrible was about to happen.

The question was... when.

The Baron's mansion stood out as the brightest spot in the entire city. While the surrounding streets were cloaked in absolute darkness, his estate gleamed with the same expensive lamps that lined the corridors of my own mansion. And if I had to guess...

They weren't exactly cheap.

I didn't feel like making the usual speech about the rich exploiting the poor—it would've been hypocritical of me, considering I enjoyed the opulence of my own family. But what really caught my attention were the faces of the workers at the Baron's mansion.

Empty.

I'd seen those same lifeless expressions before, long ago in my previous world. It had been deeply disturbing then, and it was no less so now. Those hollow stares only meant one thing to me.

Slaves.

Were they paying off debts? Serving some kind of sentence? Officially, slavery was forbidden in Avantgar, but what I saw here was indistinguishable from it. Even if there was no document declaring them slaves, the Baron's workers were living in bondage.

Their hands were battered, their nails broken from endless labor. Their pale, parched skin looked like it hadn't seen sunlight in years. Their bodies were frail, little more than skin and bones. But more than anything, it was their haunted eyes that begged for release from their torment.

The Baron took his time before deigning to meet us. I began to feel physically ill just standing in that cursed place. Sensing my discomfort, Alain leaned closer, his silent presence grounding me.

It helped, somehow.

"Princess Daira Grai Thamel! What an honor to welcome you to my humble residence. Would you care for a drink?"

Finally, we entered his office. The Baron was seated at his desk, scribbling on a document and sipping from what looked like a very expensive bottle of wine.

"No... I'll pass."

Everything about this man repulsed me. He smiled as if he were at a party, his eyes roaming over me like I was an object on display. My nausea returned in full force at the intensity of his lecherous gaze. Even from a distance, I could smell the stench of alcohol clinging to him.

Scum.

His clothes clung so tightly to his enormous frame that it looked like they might burst. He was grotesquely obese, his face distorted by his weight, and his unkempt beard only added to the disarray. There was nothing attractive about him.

No woman could find such a man desirable.

"Oh, that's too bad," he said with mock disappointment. "Then may I ask the reason for your visit, Princess?"

"I came to talk about Agnes," I replied curtly.

"Agnes?" He furrowed his brow in confusion.

The bastard didn't even know the name of the woman he was harassing.

"The owner of the pastry shop near the main plaza," I clarified.

"Oh, yes. Very good cakes! Too bad it has to close."

My frown deepened. "That's exactly what I came to discuss. I don't think the way you're treating her is fair."

"But she broke the law. She must face the consequences."

"She hasn't committed any crime, I can assure you," I said firmly. "I've been working with Agnes for some time now."

"I've heard about that," he said, his voice dripping with false courtesy. "But don't worry, Princess. Out of my great respect for Duke Cyrus, I won't accuse you of anything. Just hand her over to me, and we'll forget this whole matter ever happened."

I frowned. "You're not listening to me, Baron Bagrat. I'm telling you that Agnes is innocent."

The Baron took another long sip of his wine, completely unfazed. "The reports I have say otherwise," he replied.

"May I ask what those reports say?" I pressed, my patience thinning.

The Baron sighed dramatically before rummaging through the disorganized mess of papers on his desk.

"Let's see... It says here that her sanitary certificates have expired," he read.

Sanitary certificates? Those existed in this world? Good to know...

"That must be a mistake," I said firmly. "The shop is cleaned regularly. We'll pay any fines, but please don't force her to close."

"It's too late for that, Princess. The woman owes a considerable amount in taxes."

"Then I'll pay her overdue debts," I said without hesitation.

The Baron let out another exaggerated sigh, his tone turning condescending. "It doesn't work that way, Princess. She's the one who must deal with it. Please don't involve yourself in something that has nothing to do with you."

"But I know Agnes. She's an honest, hardworking woman. It's not fair to close her only source of income over such a small debt."

"Small?" The Baron's eyes widened slightly. "The woman owes more than twenty thousand gold coins..."

"What?! That's impossible!" I exclaimed.

In Avantgar, coins made of various metals were used as currency, and gold had the highest value. For the Baron to claim Agnes owed over twenty thousand gold coins was absurd.

On average, a commoner might earn a hundred gold coins in their entire lifetime.

"What is the basis for this debt?" I asked, my voice sharp.

"Princess, taxes are calculated based on the income of each business," he replied with feigned patience.

"Well, if that's true, then it makes no sense. I know the prices charged at the pastry shop. The profits are modest, and the expenses are numerous. There's no way the debt could have reached such an outrageous amount."

"Well, you're not taking into account the increase for late payment."

I frowned again. "And how much is that?"

The Baron looked away, his demeanor suddenly evasive. "I can't say..."

I snapped, slamming my hands on his desk. My patience had reached its limit.

"You are being completely unreasonable, Baron Bagrat. You know very well that what you're doing to Madame Agnes is unfair. There is no legitimate reason to close her pastry shop."

The Baron's face darkened, his jovial façade cracking. "With all due respect, Princess, you have no understanding of the laws governing this city. I ask you to be considerate and refrain from interfering in this matter."

"But—"

"I am a very busy man," he interrupted, his tone dripping with disdain. "If you'll excuse me, I must proceed with closing this business permanently and arresting its owner for tax evasion." He finished the last drops of his wine and set the bottle down with a heavy thud.

I clenched my fists, my frustration boiling over. It was clear that reasoning with this man was useless. I'd expected as much, but it didn't make the situation any less infuriating.

Walking away wasn't an option. Agnes was in grave danger if she faced the Baron alone. I was the only one who could stop this obvious display of corruption. After all, no matter how powerful he thought he was...

I outranked him.

"No."

"Excuse me...?" The Baron's voice dripped with incredulity.

I looked him straight in the eye, refusing to back down.

"The pastry shop will not be closed, and the owner will not be imprisoned," I said firmly.

"Who do you think you are...?" he spat.

"I am the Princess of this entire territory," I replied, my voice steady. "And I demand that you leave this woman alone."

"You have no authority to—"

"Let's see if you say the same when I bring my family into this, Baron," I interrupted coldly. "Obey willingly... or we will proceed by force."

The Baron was silent for several long seconds, his expression unreadable. Finally, he spoke.

"As you wish."

I allowed myself a small smile. "Good. Then we have an agreement. If you'll excuse me, I can't bear to stay in this place any longer."

I turned and began to leave with Alain. It was a victory. As much as I disliked invoking the Duke's name to solve my problems, there was no denying its effectiveness. I was just about to step out of that vile office when—

"May I give you some advice?" the Baron called after me.

I hesitated, glancing back. "What?"

"Learn to act like a woman," he said with a sneer. "Shut up and just smile. It won't do you any good to make enemies."

My anger ignited instantly. "What the hell did you just say?!"

"Princess, we have to leave," Alain urged, his tone calm but firm.

I clenched my fists, seething, but suppressed my fury. Fighting with a man like that wasn't worth it—at least not yet. Later, I would ensure he paid dearly for his disrespect. What I needed now was patience.

Still, his parting words unsettled me. The sinister look on his face was hard to shake.

"Can you believe it? That filthy pig insulted me!" I exclaimed as we made our way back through the main plaza, heading to the pastry shop to pick up Betia. My anger bubbled over, and I vented all of it into Alain's ear.

"If you hadn't stopped me, I would've kicked him in the groin."

Alain allowed himself a faint smile.

"Hey, don't just laugh. Tell me what you think of that bastard," I pressed.

His smile faded immediately. "He's dangerous, Princess. You'd better not go back there."

"Huh? But I have a great and brave knight to protect me. I doubt you'd struggle against such a pig."

"That's not the point," Alain said grimly. "I'm telling you, that nobleman smells like dried blood."

I frowned. "That's the second time you've said that. What does it mean?"

"It's something I learned during my time on the streets," Alain explained. "That's what killers smell like."

I swallowed hard. "Wait... You also said that about..."

But before I could finish, my nose was assaulted by the sharp sting of smoke. Startled, I looked up and saw a powerful light in the distance—a blaze, raging and unrelenting.

A fire. A massive fire.

And it was coming from the direction of the pastry shop.

My heart began to race. Without a second thought, Alain and I sprinted toward the source of the fire. As we left the plaza, we finally saw people. A crowd had gathered, encircling the blaze.

It was coming from the pastry shop.

"Agnes?! Agnes!" I shouted, desperately scanning the faces in the crowd.

By some miracle, I saw her. She was outside, her expression stricken with horror. I pushed my way through the throng until I reached her.

"Princess...!" she gasped, her voice trembling.

"Are you okay? What happened?" I asked urgently.

"I-I-I..." Agnes stammered, unable to form words.

"Calm down, please. You're safe... That's what matters," I said, trying to steady her.

But the owner broke down completely, bursting into uncontrollable sobs.

"No... No..."

"Agnes! Calm down!" I gripped her shoulders firmly. "We'll figure this out. Just tell me what happened."

Her cries only grew louder. "It was just... some childish mischief," she choked out. "I thought it would be okay to let her sneak a bit of dessert for herself... I never imagined this would happen. It's my fault... I shouldn't have left her alone..."

My heart stopped.

I hadn't noticed it before, not with all the chaos.

I should have.

Betia.

I couldn't see her anywhere.

"Agnes... Where is Betia?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"The girl... she stayed in the kitchen."

The words barely registered. My legs moved on their own, propelling me toward the flames. I ran as fast as I could, my mind blank with panic.

But Alain caught me.

He grabbed hold of me, keeping me from moving forward. I thrashed against him, but he was stronger. No matter how hard I struggled, I couldn't break free.

"Let me go! It's Betia! It's Betia!" I screamed, tears streaming down my face.

"You can't!" he shouted back, holding me tightly.

"Let me go!" I sobbed, my voice breaking. "Let me go! Let me go!"

But I couldn't escape his grip.

"Please... It's Betia... Betia... Betia..." My cries turned into desperate pleas.

And then I broke.

I collapsed in his arms, the weight of helplessness crashing down on me.

"Betia... Betia... Betia... Please..." I whispered, my voice barely audible through the sobs.

I could do nothing but cry.

Hello, everyone! 🌟

Thank you so much for reading this intense chapter! Daira faced one of her most challenging moments yet, and the stakes have never been higher. From her confrontation with the Baron to the devastating fire at the pastry shop, it's clear that the road ahead will not be easy.

What do you think happened at the pastry shop? Could this really be a coincidence, or is something more sinister at play? And what do you think of Alain's ominous observation about the Baron? Let me know your thoughts and theories in the comments—I can't wait to hear them! 💬

Your continued support means the world to me! If you enjoyed this chapter, don't forget to vote, follow, and share your thoughts. Every interaction helps Noble Soul grow and keeps me motivated to bring this story to life.

Stay tuned for the next chapter as we dive deeper into the aftermath of the fire and the mysteries surrounding Molina. See you soon! 😊✨