Chapter 2. The Prologue of a Tragedy (II)

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As soon as I took his hand, the silver-haired kid ushered me to a less crowded part of the city. Once we steered clear from the crowd, his eyes roamed around in search of something... or someone?

"Finn!" he called with a sense of urgency.

A young ironclad knight with bright red hair emerged from a distance. "Yes, young master."

Young master. So he really was a noble in disguise.

"This child has a bomb on her." The young lord imparted. "It must be the work of rebels."

The red-haired man stared at me in astonishment.

"May I take a look, young master?"

"Yeah, go on."

"Please excuse me, little one." Sir Finn politely told me before lifting my shirt. His eyes twitched upon seeing the bomb. "This... If I'm not mistaken, this was created using magic. Only a mage can disarm this. Shall I fetch one now?"

"Do it." The kid acceded.

"What about you?" Sir Finn queried reluctantly.

The young lord sighed. "I'll stay here with her. Can't you see that the child is scared to wits?"

The redhead knight seemed hesitant to leave his master with me, but he didn't argue any further. Sir Finn wasted no time and left the scene to search for a mage. The young lord, on the other hand, took a seat beside me on the stony ground.

"Don't worry." The kid tried to reassure me. For a noble, he seemed used to the outside world. "Help will be coming soon."

"Thank you." I said barely above a whisper.

"I'm Alistair." he introduced himself. "What's your name?"

"It's Callista!" I beamed.

That's my name in my previous life, by the way. Despite being in this body for quite some time now, I have no inkling who this child is. She didn't seem to have any family or friends. She was all alone, barely surviving on the streets through mercy.

That was the life I started to live when I possessed this body. A bony and dirty kid who was homeless.

"Callista." Alistair shot me a sideward glance. "It's too long to say. Shall I give you a nickname?"

"No, thanks. We're not close enough to call each other by pet names." I said as a matter of fact. "I only met you today, young lord."

"Hey! I saved your life, don't I have the right to give you a nickname?" He argued, pouting in dismay.

"But you haven't saved me yet. The bomb is still here on my tummy." I retorted shamelessly.

"I told you, help will be coming soon! I won't let you die." Alistair rolled his eyes. "As if I'd let those damn rebels succeed with their plan. How dare they cause a fuss during my father's parade?"

"Huh?" I blinked twice. "Father?"

"Alistair Kirsten de Averill." he remarked proudly. "That's my full name."

My jaw dropped. "You're the Grand Duke's son?!"

Instead of answering me, the silver-haired child impishly grinned. Oh, my god. It's the second male lead in the flesh! What the heck is he doing here in the city disguised as a commoner? Perhaps he wanted to watch the parade of his father?

Wait. More importantly, isn't this bad? If, by any chance we fail to disarm the bomb, he might die here with me!

"M-My lord, you have to leave." I urged him.

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