Intimidation, Terrified Maids, and Other Bad Flirting Advice

Consumed by the thought, Rod told Valen he was going to a nearby balcony to get some air. Valen offered her usual smile and nodded, telling him to enjoy the rest of the night and leave Marion to her.

What she had said earlier continued to gnaw at him as he walked. He took another long look at the Great Hall of Windermere Citadel. The clock was about to strike ten, yet the nobles—and the King especially—still had the energy to mingle and scheme.

Rod knew the world wasn’t perfect. But in the storybooks he had read as a child, nobles were… noble. That ideal had only been reinforced by his time with the Banner of Dawn, working alongside lords who genuinely cared for their people. Still, two things could be true at once. Maybe Valen was right. Maybe he just didn't know how to talk to aristocrats, leaving him with no real way to judge them.

Was that all there was to it? People constantly talking and plotting, seeking secrets that benefited no one but themselves? Was King Bram like that? Was Princess Rylen?

Rod shook his head. There were more pressing matters at hand. Lucan, who should have been the center of attention tonight, was nowhere to be found. Princess Rylen was missing, too. Had they been attacked? Armed with his new understanding of courtly politics, it didn’t seem too far-fetched that a corrupt noble might send assassins after the princess.

Which meant they needed help. What Rod liked about Lucan was that, much like himself, heroism ran in his blood. In fact, Rod would reluctantly admit Lucan was slightly better at it. Rod sharpened his gaze, took a slow breath, and ran both hands through his dark hair to slick it back.

Time to get to work.

First step: gather intelligence. He needed someone who had been moving across the Great Hall—ideally someone who could identify both Lucan and Princess Rylen in a crowd. Right on cue, a small group of maids passed by carrying leftover plates.

Not wanting to make a scene, he approached a maid who looked particularly observant, took her tray, and set it down. He grabbed her hand—much to her shock—and quietly led her toward a secluded balcony. As the cold night air whipped against his face, overlooking a dark cityscape save for a few lit windows and guard torches, Rod turned and gently pinned her against the wall.

He leaned in close. This step was about establishing authority. He had seen Marion use this exact technique on informants to extract answers. It seemed effective enough, though catching his reflection in her striking ebony eyes threw him off for a second.

“Sir… how can I—”

She cut herself off, trying not to stammer as she stared wide-eyed into his. Her face flushed bright red, her breathing uneven. Her hands trembled, clasped tightly against her chest. Rod made a mental note to thank Marion later; the tactic really worked.

Rod offered a small smile. “Forgive me. I just had to speak with you. This will all be over as soon as you give me what I need. Is that alright?”

The maid swallowed hard and nodded in defeat.

“Good. What’s your name?”

“Delphine.”

“Delphine, have you seen Lucan or Princess Rylen? You understand why I can't ask publicly, right? This could be an emergency.”

Delphine nodded, her mouth slightly parted and trembling.

“If this is what I suspect, we need to keep the culprit here. Do you have any idea where they went?”

“Is… is that all you want?”

“Yes,” Rod said.

A second later, he watched the light vanish from her eyes.

Delphine cleared her throat and looked away. “I’m sorry, but—”

“Please, think carefully.”

That didn't work. Why didn't it work? Rod screamed internally. Still, there was a way forward. Intimidation tactics rarely worked on the first try. The next step was either bribery or escalating the threat, forcing them to imagine the worst.

Marion always said people knew more than they let on; it was just a matter of “helping” them remember, or making them realize certain details were more valuable than they thought. But looking at her, Rod couldn’t bring himself to scare her any further.

He stepped back, giving Delphine room to breathe. The tactic had its uses, but it wasn't how a true hero acted—or at least, not anymore.

“I'm sorry. Let me ask again: when was the last time you saw Lucan or Princess Rylen?”

The maid crossed her arms and cupped her chin, leaning back against the stone wall. “I don’t know much, sir. I was assigned to clean the garderobes until recently. The last time I saw Sir Lucan and Princess Rylen was during the award ceremony.”

So she had seen them with everyone else. Rod ran a hand through his hair. That didn't narrow things down at all.

“Though…” Delphine added, “I did hear something. The other maids were gossiping about seeing Sir Lucan with the princess. She wasn't feeling well, so he escorted her toward the center balcony facing the sea. They said it looked very romantic.”

Suppressing a surge of jealousy that made him want to smash his head against the stone wall, Rod realized that was actually crucial information. He could work with this. Lucan would never isolate someone unless the situation made it unsafe to stay in the open. He was likely moving her somewhere secure.

“Is… is that all?”

Rod nodded. “Thank you.”

Delphine narrowed her eyes into a glare. “Please clarify something for me. Did you drag me out here just to ask if I’d seen Sir Lucan or Princess Rylen?”

“Yes.”

“And nothing else?”

Rod glanced away, then back at her. “Nothing I can think of. Why?”

Delphine let out a long sigh and dropped her hands, clutching her skirt as her fingers trembled—this time with frustration rather than fear. Tears welled in her eyes. “You have to help me. I’m new here, and I need this job. They're going to ask questions. What am I supposed to say? That you cornered me for information, or—”

“Let's keep it simple.”

Rod realized what she meant. Given how aggressively he had pulled her away, whatever she told her superiors could get her fired—and drag his reputation down with her. If she claimed he interrogated her, it would make her look like a risk for spilling secrets. On the other hand, offending an S-rank hero was just as dangerous. Fortunately, there was an obvious solution.

Rod flashed a wide, confident grin. “Let’s make it romantic, then.”

“Excuse me?”

“Tell them I dragged you out here to ask for your name. That I just couldn't leave without finding out who you were.”

“That’s absurd.”

“No, it isn't. Doesn't everyone assume S-rank adventurers are a little eccentric anyway? I mean, I don’t think that’s true, but—”

“I completely understand,” Delphine interrupted, her voice entirely deadpan.

Rod kept his grin in place. “I feel insulted, but at least we’re on the same page.”

“Still, no one is going to believe that.”

“Why not?” Rod raised an eyebrow. “You’re quite pretty. I could easily see it happening.”

Delphine’s eyes went wide. As she stammered in a fruitless attempt to find words, Rod pressed a gold coin into her hand for her trouble. He turned and marched back into the Great Hall, the memory of her calloused yet delicate hands quickly fading as he headed straight toward the balcony facing the sea.