Caesar swept away the bundles of paper Latifa had practiced writing with his large forepaw and growled.

[Ever since I was captured by you and came here, I haven’t taken anything from the savannah for the same reason.]

“That doesn’t make sense.”

[All the memories there consume me, Latifa. The color of the savannah sky, how hot the sunlight on the rocks was, the smell of dry grass.]

“It consumes you?”

[Your homeland will make you sick and hold you back. In the end, it only makes you unable to do this or that. You’ll die miserably, unable to forget the past, just like I was before I met you.]

After saying that, Caesar pricked his ears, flashed his yellow eyes, and quickly turned his head towards the window, starting to howl loudly.

Kwaah!

Startled by Caesar’s howl, Latifa stepped back. When Caesar howled towards the window again, a brown lump suddenly flew into the room.

Kiyot!

“Ah!”

Startled by the unexpected intruder from the sky, Latifa grabbed a cushion and stood up. Caesar didn’t move clumsily; he only followed it with his yellow eyes.

Looking up at the sky carefully, Latifa noticed that it was a large bird.

“Eagle? Falcon?”

She didn’t know the difference between the two birds, but a large brown bird of prey, perched on a high beam, stared at Latifa under Caesar’s watchful eyes.

[It’s been tamed by human hands.]

At Caesar’s words, Latifa squinted and carefully examined the bird.

“With a blue strap tied to its leg, it doesn’t seem to be a wild bird. A messenger bird?”

She had seen people tie such things to birds’ legs to send messages.

The bird flew down near the window where Latifa was standing, flapped its wings, and soon extended its leg with a letter attached to it.

“… A real letter?”

Kyaak!

With the bird’s cry, as if urging her to take the letter quickly, Latifa cautiously extended one arm and quickly grabbed the letter.

“If it’s a letter from Hades, can I read it freely?”

This was Hades’ bedroom, and emergency contact birds like this were not uncommon. Thinking it might be that kind of letter, Latifa gingerly read the head of the carefully folded letter.

However, when she saw the Imperial language written at the beginning of the letter, Latifa couldn’t help but be surprised.

『Hello, Frau. I’m Yaz. Frau, you’ll have a hard time later. So, shall we make money together? Send it secretly to the General. Cattle market, Gate 8. Exceeds the Golden Armadillo. The bird is Shan, deliver the message on paper.』

“It’s the Imperial language?!”

Latifa joyfully exclaimed at the sloppy Imperial language written by someone else. Although it was a clumsy word combination, the letter conveyed its meaning.

Kiak!

However, without much time to think about the letter, the bird continued to cry out as if urging Latifa for a reply.

[Reply!]

“Who is your master? Is it an Imperial?”

[Reply! Reply!]

The bird repeated only the request for a reply, showing no intention of engaging in conversation.

Eventually, Latifa quickly took out a small item from her bosom.

Doruk, opening the dried item, there was a goose feather pen she had made, and a small ink bottle.

“Hello, Yaz. And Shan…”

Writing in the Imperial language after a long time feels fresh.

‘The name and the words used are clumsy, indicating that it was not written by an Imperial but someone from the desert. I don’t know who it is.’

The other person might not even know the face and the name Yaz could be a pseudonym.

However, the neat Imperial language left in the small note might have immediately broken down Latifa’s guard.

‘Still, I can’t blindly trust it.’

『I’m sorry I can’t help much. But it was nice to meet you.』
A person who had just written some strange and crooked desert language a while ago was now elegantly and stylishly scanning through the Imperial language, revealing the unbelievable fact that it was the same person.

Graceful and refined characters, revealing elegance, dignity, and somewhere, a hint of shyness.

“Yes. I used to write like this in the past…”

At the end of the letter, the dried ink slightly spread on her finger, leaving traces as it drooped and twisted downwards.

It was not a blatant declaration of missing the Empire, but rather, the ink spilled tears for the home country that Latifa couldn’t openly say she missed, filled with timid and hesitant emotions.

My homeland.

O God, who might still be there in my homeland.

What should I do now?

‘I still don’t know. I don’t know which is an opportunity and which is a danger.’

Latifa engraved the sentence from the suspicious note, “Frau will have a hard time later,” into her memory.

‘Frau won’t face legal consequences whenever the owner decides to abandon her because she’s considered private property.’

Memories of high-ranking Fraus who had been through miserable experiences and the maids of Princess Asti’s palace telling stories like passing by, unexpectedly flashed through her mind.

“I don’t even get alimony. If you’re just a concubine, you can file a lawsuit.”

“It’s not even a common-law marriage.”