Chapter 118: A Few Things About Viki (Part 2)
“The night is lovely, shall we take a stroll?”
The woman said this as she lifted the curtain of the carriage a bit more, leaning her head against the doorframe, her silky hair cascading down like a drape, her gaze utterly enchanted.
The long night stretched on, a sky full of stars, the faint moonlight casting a seductive glow on her casually playful demeanor. In that moment, Pasifal’s mind went blank, his eyes almost popping out like a cartoon character.
I could sense he was pondering whether Her Majesty the Queen, who seemed so serious during the day, would unveil her second personality at night.
Honestly, I couldn’t be bothered to explain such matters to him.
All I did was regard the woman with a flat expression and asked softly, “What’s up?”
“Hmm…”
She tilted her head, pretending to be adorably thoughtful: “Well, there’s nothing particularly special, but there’s a place in the South District where you can eat. I was just about to go there when I recognized your carriage. I thought to myself, it’s a pity we’re still not close after your last visit. I should take you along this time!”
As she said this, she hopped out of the carriage. The young female attendant rushed forward but was dismissed with a wave of her hand.
The woman lifted the fluffy hem of her dress and strutted toward me in small steps. When she stood before me, she flashed a charming smile and turned to Pasifal, her eyes practically oozing flirtation.
“If you don’t want to go, I could always invite this handsome guy from the Empire beside you! Who knows if he’d be willing to lighten my boring long night… hmm?”
At this, Pasifal actually hesitated.
“Bro…”
I shot him a stern look and elbowed him hard: “You should head back now.”
Pasifal suddenly snapped back to reality.
“Ah…”
He finally recognized that the woman in front of him was not the King Ethanbel he had chatted with so amicably during the day: “In that case, I suppose I’ll head back to the Royal Palace. The war chariot can stay here, and you two can chat?”
“No need, let the steward take you back to the palace. This place isn’t far from Longdoll Street, I’ll return on my own,” I told Pasifal.
“Be careful, don’t stay out too late,” he replied as he left.
Soon, Pasifal was gone, and the woman looked at the vanishing war chariot with mock regret: “I regret it now, maybe you should call him back… Is that your brother? Any engagement? If there is, no biggie—love is free, right? I don’t see a problem with it…”
I couldn’t be bothered with her nonsense either.
Once in the woman’s carriage, we fell into silence as the war chariot ambled slowly, twisting and turning through the busiest streets in the South District, eventually stopping at the mouth of a dark alley.
We got out at the alleyway, me in my cloak and hood, while the woman wore a rather plain dress today. After putting on her hood as well, she didn’t let her accompanying guard follow us. We slipped into the narrow alley, and after a little while, the gloomy path opened up into a lively marketplace.
It was a tad dirty and a bit chaotic, with garbage, wooden barrels, and baskets piled up in corners. But the street itself was brightly lit, exuding a smell that was not too pleasant, but not quite offensive either—a mix of food, alcohol, and the distinct whiff of hormonal humans.
The street was bustling with people, from the well-dressed to the down-and-out, all sorts were here—drunkards, brawlers, you name it. Even in the cold, half-n*ked women with stunning looks passed by, their scent of cheap perfume mixed with alcohol hitting my nose a little too hard.
This was the Royal City’s South District, a rich and noble area. Everywhere was brightly lit and refined, with both men and women radiating a certain poise. A hodgepodge street like this one, looking like even a beret-wearing gentleman wouldn’t bother with, felt oddly out of place in the south; such scenes were more common in the north.
If it weren’t for Viki’s crazy sister leading me, I’d have never found a place like this.
“I used to sneak here often for a drink,” the woman suddenly said as we walked.
“Oh, really?”
I shrugged, showing I wasn’t too interested.
Someone was secretly following us from behind—probably the woman’s attendant, whose footsteps were surprisingly stealthy. It seemed she was more than just a servant; she had a protective role as well.
“Do you know my sister had a peeping habit when she was little? The kind where she would fly off secretly into the sky and snoop on everyone’s private business.”
“……”
I think I vaguely remember something along those lines.
“This place, well—that’s where she discovered her little peeping hobby.”
Seeing me not engage, she continued: “The South District has been flourishing for a long time, but a decade ago, it was the wild west of the city. Back then, the side hall of the palace was being renovated, and thousands of workers were crammed into this area. It was essentially a slum at the palace’s doorstep, creating quite the chaotic scene. This street is what remains from that time.”
“Back then, the naïve Queen Elizabeth would sneak down here often. She used to think this was the most painful existence in the world, so she would sometimes fly up and look, and sometimes come down trying to blend in with the suffering world below. How adorably foolish.”
After a short walk, the woman paused in front of a grimy sign that read “Outstanding Scoundrels.”
“Yup, right here.”
She sauntered to the roadside, found an empty table, pulled out a cloth to wipe the table and chairs, and plopped down as if she owned the place.
Surrounding that table were a few other patrons. It looked more like a booze stand than a restaurant, with tables strewn along the road, a makeshift bar held up by wooden frames, simply displaying a sign to do business.
Two chubby women were bustling around, serving drinks and fiddling with food. Some patrons even requested them to dance for fun, and when one of the plump ladies wiggled her hips a little too much, she took a playful smack on the backside but didn’t flinch, smiling as she continued pouring drinks. It appeared this street had quite a few such stalls.
I wasn’t too keen on sitting here, but I endured and settled down.
Viki’s sister called over one of the chubby women, casually ordered some food, and then asked for a mug of ale.
She seemed quite familiar with the two chubby women, who brought us the drinks. When she noticed me not drinking, she inquired, “Is this the ‘place I should have brought you’ you mentioned?”
Not that I was picky; I just genuinely disliked the vibe here, sensing I could be hit on by some filthy scoundrel at any moment, and if I bumped into a particularly repulsive one, my mood would be ruined.
“Hmm~”
Noticing my displeasure, the woman grinned: “Hang tight, they’ll bring out their homemade pickled river fish soon. You should taste it before you judge.”
When the pickled river fish arrived, I took a few bites. It was surprisingly fresh, made from sable fish, and contrary to expectations, it didn’t taste overly salty or fishy at all—quite clean, actually. I remembered sable fish could be notoriously fishy, with many stalls unable to handle it properly, but here it was quite tasty.
Honestly, the very fact she’d brought me to a place like this was surprising. Not many pampered princesses from royalty would just sit by the roadside sharing a beer and eating pickled fish like this.
But of course, the woman had other motives beyond just getting me to eat fish.
After downing a drink, she signaled for a refill. As the chubby woman took away the empty cup, she gazed out at the hustle and bustle of the street and said, “Oh, I almost forgot! I mentioned earlier that I used to sneak here for drinks; well, my sister did too. We occasionally would come here. Do you know why?”
