The town Olmedo had bought lay in the western reaches of the empire, about two thousand li from Siltovis and beside the Third Monster Mountains. The town was packed with her people and Annan's. Even after the residents had been dispersed and the musketeers disbanded, more than eight thousand people had been squeezed into a remote town that had originally held barely three thousand.
Before leaving, Annan had collected the Plate Armor and Muskets and put them in storage with the Magic Cannons. He had not wanted to take away the musketeers' weapons and armor, but he worried those things would bring them trouble.
Annan had left Copperbeard and Gravelstone to continue researching Howitzer Shells and houses. Illymoyas had departed the day after they arrived, saying she could sense her kin deep in the mountains. Annan had promised her that once he obtained his new Fief, he would build her a Blue Dragon Lair even grander and more beautiful than the one at Star-Moon Bay.
Olmedo buried herself in administrative work again. Annan did not interfere. Those government affairs made his head spin as though a Bewitching Curse had been etched into them.
By the time Annan and Alice had traveled to Siltovis through the scowling Mr. Swaro's Portal—making the trip several times—and then taken a Carriage to the Mansion, a day had passed. Annan still had not eaten.
"I'm so hungry..."
Annan frowned and slumped back on the Sofa.
Martin was not hungry at all. Before cleverly packing himself into the suitcase, he had eaten all of Annan's food. Hiding in a suitcase the first time had left him hungry for ages.
Martin would not make the same mistake twice.
Annan, however, would.
Again and again, Annan looked toward the suitcase lying dead on the carpet, wishing everything he