I’m an Immigration Officer!

I read the very last word written on the letter.
“Friend?”

Did I have anyone I could call a friend?
I paused to think.
Nothing came to mind.

The last time I ever called anyone a friend was back at the Merchant Academy.
And even that was well over five years ago.
At most, a few heirs from other merchant houses I lost contact with—maybe they could’ve passed as “friends.”

But it’s not like we’re close enough now for them to send a letter like this.
I looked again at the awkward word.
“Friend,” followed by—nothing. No name at all.

Maybe it was written somewhere else? I flipped the letter around, checked the envelope.
But something was off.
“There’s no stamp. No official postmark either.”

Normally, if someone wanted to send a letter across long distances, they had to go through the Royal Post.
That was the fastest and most reliable method.
Just attach a stamp to the letter, get the parcel sealed with an official mark, and you were done.

Every document I’d ever received from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs came through the Royal Post.
Which meant you could usually trace where it came from—and even guess the sender’s status—just from the stamp.
But this one had nothing.

Truly, an untraceable letter.
And yet, it had somehow ended up mixed in with official ministry paperwork.
“Hm…”
In a case like this, there were really only two possibilities.

One: someone with physical access to the Southern Border Immigration Office had placed it on my desk directly.
Or—
Someone with the authority to bypass the Royal Post’s entire protocol had sent it.

Either way, it wasn’t a pleasant prospect.
And the lack of a security mark means there’s no telling what could be inside.
Unidentified packages were dangerous.

I turned my head and called out to the Auditory Inspector.
“Inspector. Could you take a look at this letter—see if you sense anything unusual?”
“This one?”

Being an elf, if there was any sort of curse attached to it, she’d be able to pick up the mana signature.
The Auditory Inspector approached and gently placed a fingertip on the letter.
Vmmmmm.

A soft tremor of mana shimmered through the air, and a small light flickered.
She shook her head.
“No, there’s nothing. No magic at all.”

“Is that so?”
“It’s clean.”
That brought a small sense of relief.

At least it’s not a bomb.
After everything that had happened lately, I was half-expecting even a falling leaf to explode.
The right side of my jaw still throbbed where that shapeshifter kicked me.

Still, if the Auditory Inspector gave it the all-clear, it should be fine to read.
I began reading, slowly.
[Hello. I am your friend. It’s nice to meet you.]

The opening sentence felt like something written by a child.
There was no trace of formality.
Each word was pressed carefully into the page, like someone trying very hard to write neatly.

I continued.
[What you said that day gave me ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) so much strength. No one had ever said anything like that to me before.]
“That day…?”

I tilted my head.
When was that? And what did I say?
No context. No details.

I kept reading.
[I want to know more about you. I’m writing this secretly so my mother won’t find out. I hope this letter reaches you again.]
[Someday, please tell me your story. I’ll write mine next time.]

[From your friend.]
That was it.
No personal information. Just a bunch of things the sender already knew, thrown onto the page.

I frowned.
“What the hell is this?”
From time to time, I’d get letters stuffed with money or little trinkets—disguised bribes.

Requests like: “Please look the other way—our merchant house is transporting restricted items.”
Or: “A certain noble from a certain country is collecting rare artifacts, could you let this unregistered one through?”
Happens once or twice a month.

Not just to me—those kinds of favors reached the Senses Inspectors too.
Thankfully, the Management Office isn’t what it was during Gerard’s time. Everyone here shuts those down immediately.
But this kind of letter? One that directly names me and just rambles on with their own thoughts?

I’d never received anything like that.
Not even teenage love letters were this awkward.
It felt like it was written by someone totally inexperienced at expressing themselves.

Disjointed. Abrupt ending.
As far as I knew, no one around me was this clumsy.
Maybe the Gustatory Inspector...

But she usually just came straight to me when she had something to say.
So who the hell—
Then my eyes landed on one particular line again.

I’m writing this secretly so my mother won’t find out.
A strangely honest admission of their situation.
It meant, for some reason, they were being monitored by their mother.

“...So their mother can’t find out.”
Someone who knows me—and is being watched by their mother.
Someone who was deeply moved by something I said “that day”...

Suddenly, one very unsettling name flashed through my mind.
“Ah.”
No way.

“P-Princess Elaine Castor?”
I shook my head immediately.
“No. No, that’s absurd.”

We only met once. By chance. At Prince Lassen’s grave.
We’d had no other connection. None whatsoever.
And I only offered her some plain, unfiltered words because I knew we’d never meet again.

There’s no way she’d send something like this.
We hadn’t even exchanged names. There’s no way she even knows mine.
“Yeah. It can’t be her.”

No matter how I looked at it, it just wasn’t possible.
I wanted nothing more to do with the royal family.
I needed room to breathe.

I shoved the letter into the drawer.
“Ugh.”
My heart was still racing.

This was not the kind of tension I needed on my first day back at work.
I mean… no way it’s really the princess, right?
...Right?

...Right?
Still shivering with a strange, creeping anxiety, I slowly picked up the next document.
 

****
Meanwhile, inside Elaine’s room, an unnatural sound echoed at steady intervals.
Scritch, scritch. Rustle, scratch.

Once again, the quill danced across the page.
She had long lost track of time.
Even though her right arm had been numb for quite a while, Elaine didn’t stop writing.

For the first time in ages, she was feeling something other than grief or pain.
What will he think as he reads this?
She found the corners of her lips lifting without realizing it.

In the mirror on her desk, her reflection looked like an innocent child discovering excitement for the first time in her life.
Flip—
At last, after what felt like an eternity, the letter was finished.

“Ugh…”
Her half-lidded green eyes scanned the densely packed writing.
There was barely any white space left. After reading through the entire thing, she nodded to herself, very seriously.

“Mm!”
Then crossed her arms with deep satisfaction.
Yes. This is it—this is a perfect masterpiece!

Even to her own eyes, it was a brilliant piece of writing worthy of being remembered.
No famous novelist or essayist could have written something as heartfelt and detailed as this.
Just like the last letter, it was clean, complete, and full of everything she wanted to say.

Elaine leaned in and added one final line at the bottom of the page with utmost care.
[From your friend]
“Hehe…”

Every time she saw those words, her face softened without meaning to.
Why?
Why was her heart fluttering so much?

Just then, her personal maid Hannah came struggling into the room, both arms full of a new stack of letter paper.
“P-Princess… I brought it…”
“Ah.”

Elaine casually waved her hand through the air, and the stack of paper floated up, landing in a neat pile beside her.
Then, in a flash, she handed the freshly written letter to Hannah.
I’m counting on you again.

The look in her eyes was no different from a spy passing along classified intelligence.
Hannah turned pale and shook her head.
“P-Princess… if Her Majesty the Queen finds out, we’re in serious trouble. The fact that we pulled it off once was already a miracle!”

Just yesterday, Hannah had done something she never imagined she’d do in her entire life.
She had gone to the Royal Post, shown the Director the royal seal, and arranged for the highest-level classified delivery.
It wasn’t something Hannah wanted to do.

She hadn’t even had the courage for it.
She was, after all, just a maid.
“Uuuugh…”

But Elaine had been so sincere—so insistent—that she’d even entrusted her royal signet ring to Hannah.
And now, her green eyes were blazing with determination and anticipation.
The first letter must have already reached him.

That meant now the second, and the third—and from here on, she planned to write one every single day.
Her very first friend.
Her very first kindred spirit.

There were too many things she wanted to say.
And maybe—just maybe—someday Nathan Kell would write back.
“Haa…”

Hannah sighed softly.
If the Queen ever found out, Elaine would surely have even this small joy taken from her again.
Hope was brilliant—but always came with the shadow of despair.

The moment Queen Helena noticed Elaine’s rising hopes, she’d crush them without hesitation.
That’s why Hannah knew she had to stop this dangerous act now, even if it was late.
But she saw it—the corner of Elaine’s mouth lifted in a smile.

A smile she hadn’t seen in fifteen years.
And so, Hannah nodded, her face drawn and pale.
“Just this once…”

She had served Elaine since childhood—and in the end, she simply couldn’t be strict with this pitiful princess.
Because hope… really was blindingly bright.
She couldn’t bring herself to reject Elaine’s first smile in fifteen years.

 
****
“Next!”

Even in the afternoon, I still hadn’t shaken off the unease.
They say light stress boosts work efficiency—apparently, that’s true.
While my mind was swamped with Could it really be the Princess?, I ended up plowing through the entire mountain of paperwork.

I feel sick…
Though my mental and physical health had definitely paid the price.
Creeeak.

That was when someone pushed open the door to the Immigration Office.
“Chief Inspector? Is the Chief Inspector here?”
A booming voice.

It was familiar—somewhere, I’d heard it before.
I turned my head. A soldier in armor bearing the insignia of the Border Duke’s family was looking around.
Once I saw his face, I recognized him. He’d been one of the cavalrymen during the “Pig Hunt Operation.”

“I’m here.”
“Good day, Chief Inspector. I stopped by yesterday, but you weren’t in, so I’ve returned today.”
He stood before me and saluted.

I saluted in return and asked:
“I was called to the capital by royal summons, so I was briefly on assignment. What brings you here?”
Then, I caught the purpose behind his expression.

“Did the Border Duke send word?”
“That’s correct.”
The soldier nodded.

“The interrogation of the shapeshifter has been completed.”
“…”
The shapeshifter.

In an instant, violet eyes flashed in my mind.
The one who struck my jaw.
The one who kidnapped Erzena.

The one who, above all, had justified her request for temporary asylum.
The soldier spoke with a tense face.
“As promised, the Border Duke has transferred interrogation rights to you, Chief Inspector. You may visit Castle Baek at your convenience.”

Good news.
I’d been dying to know who—or what—had driven Erzena into that situation.
If I can get that information, I might even be able to push for full asylum beyond the temporary arrangement.

It could also become a bargaining chip for future dealings with the Holy Order.
I asked calmly:
“…I see. What’s the deadline?”

If I had time, I could request assistance from the intelligence division and extract everything that shapeshifter knew.
Someone of that level surely had connections. If I trace the network, I’m bound to find some big names.
But the soldier’s face darkened.

“She is scheduled for execution in two days.”
The timeline was tighter than I expected.