Allen's body stiffened.
For some reason, he had the strange feeling of being caught in the act of an affair.
Even though all he had done was go to the cemetery to see a… well, a dead woman.
But when Wren's eyes fixed on him, he inexplicably felt guilty.
"Uh, Wren, it's so late—why aren't you asleep yet?"
Wren didn't answer. He just kept staring at him.
"You still haven't answered me. Where did you go this late?"
"Uh…"
Allen was at a loss.
Honestly, if he had just answered right away, nothing would've happened. He could've simply said, "I went to Milana's grave." What was there to hide? It wasn't anything shameful.
But for some reason, in that first second, he couldn't say it.
After that one moment of hesitation, it became even harder to speak the next.
The third second, the fourth second… the more he hesitated, the more suspicious he looked.
"Nothing much," he forced a dry laugh. "Couldn't sleep, so I went out for a walk."
Wren looked at him sharply.
Then he circled around him.
Wren's gaze swept from the top of his head down to his feet, then back up again.
Dirt—on his pant legs, on his sleeves—there was dirt everywhere, even packed between his fingers.
His back was bulging slightly, as if he was hiding something.
Wren reached out and pulled a shovel out from beneath his black robe.
Allen's expression froze.
"This is something you take on a walk?"
"Uh…"
Wren looked at him.
"You went to that graveyard. You went to Milana."
He wasn't asking—he was stating it.
Allen opened his mouth, then finally sighed.
"You can even figure that out?" His voice softened. "I just went to fulfill a promise… chatted with her for a bit. I promised her a month ago."
Wren clicked his tongue.
He had waited so long for him this late into the night—when he usually liked to sleep early.
"Was there really any need to hide this from me?"
Allen looked at his tightly furrowed brows, the impatient gestures, the unpleasant expression—and silently complained in his heart: Seems like… there really was a need not to tell you.
"Uh," Allen asked cautiously, "is something wrong? If not, let's just get some sleep?"
Wren grabbed his sleeve.
"There is something."
Allen froze.
"Did you forget?" His voice lowered. "I was the one who hired you to investigate all this. Now that everything's been resolved, I still owe you five gold coins."
Allen's eyes lit up instantly.
"Oh right!" He slapped his forehead and rubbed his hands together. "So you're giving them to me now?"
Wren untied a pouch from his waist and tossed it to him.
Allen caught it, opened it on the spot, and carefully counted the coins one by one.
Wren stood there, but he wasn't looking at Allen.
He lowered his head, his gaze fixed on the tips of his shoes, completely still.
After finishing the count, Allen stuffed the coins into his pocket and casually joked: "But honestly, for something this dangerous and drawn-out, isn't five gold coins a bit too little?"
Wren suddenly raised his head.
On that face appeared an expression Allen had never seen before—nervous, uneasy, hesitant… and a trace of something like expectation.
"You're right," Wren's voice trembled slightly. "It is a bit too little."
Allen froze.
"Uh?" He blinked. "I was just joking. It's enough, really."
But Wren didn't respond.
He took a deep breath.
"Close your eyes."
"Huh?"
"Just listen to me. Close your eyes."
Allen looked at him, then closed his eyes.
The night breeze was cool as it brushed against his face. In the distance, faint insect chirping could be heard, and there was a subtle fragrance in the air.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Then he felt something soft gently peck against his cheek.
Very light.
Light as a petal falling on his skin.
He opened his eyes.
And then—he froze.
Under the moonlight, in the garden, stood an elf.
Her long silver hair flowed like liquid moonlight, cascading down from her shoulders.
Her eyes—deeper than the sky, clearer than anything—were like the purest gemstones, glowing softly in the moonlight.
Her ears were pointed, trembling slightly, tinged with a faint blush.
Her skin was as white as snow, so delicate it seemed to glow, the moonlight casting a gentle halo over it.
She just stood there, quietly looking at the tips of her shoes.
Did she… just kiss me?
Allen's mind went blank.
Though he had long suspected it, seeing her true appearance still stunned him.
And also—
Thump! Thump! Thump!
What's that sound… it's so loud…
"You…" he spoke with difficulty, trying to look shocked, "you are… you're Wren? How is that possible?"
Wren… or rather, Vereesa now.
She lowered her head, looking at her shoes.
"I'm sorry, Allen," her voice was soft. "I lied to you. I'm not a hunter… and I'm not human. Maybe you already knew, but you definitely didn't know that I am…"
Allen nodded seriously.
"Indeed," he said with a straight face. "I never would've guessed you were actually a lady."
Vereesa fell silent for a moment.
"I'm sorry," she said again at last. "I… I didn't mean to deceive you."
Allen immediately cut her off.
"There's nothing to apologize for."
His voice was calm and sincere.
"From the very first day we met, we both already knew the truth, didn't we?"
Vereesa lifted her head and looked at him.
Under the moonlight, something shimmered in those sky-blue eyes.
Allen met her gaze, a smile curling at the corners of his lips.
"We're both liars full of deceit—con artists who infiltrated Stormwind," he paused, "we're accomplices… aren't we?"
Vereesa stared at him blankly.
The moonlight fell on him—more radiant than any high elf she had ever seen…
She smiled.
That smile was gentle and bright.
She extended her hand.
"Then let's start over," her voice became lighter. "My name is Vereesa Windrunner, from Quel'Thalas."
Allen took her hand.
Soft and cool to the touch.
Vereesa only touched him briefly before withdrawing like a startled rabbit, hiding her hand behind her back.
Allen withdrew his hand and looked at her, the smile on his lips deepening.
"It's an honor to meet you."
He paused.
"My name is… Allen."
...
Baron Edmond Wittback returned to his luxurious mansion in high spirits.
The plump, middle-aged noble wore an unconcealed smile, even his steps lighter than usual as he crossed the threshold.
He brushed past the servants who came to greet him and strode straight toward the brightly lit hall.
His wife looked up when she saw him return.
"What has you in such a good mood today? Did something happen in the council chamber?"
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