The night frost was invigorating, searing the lungs. The guard, walking with a measured pace down the snow-covered street of Grünwald, pulled his cloak tighter around himself and rhythmically rubbed his chilled palms together. Turning the corner of the outpost administration building into the deep shadow, he narrowed his eyes out of habit, checking to see if any drunk miners or local vagrants were lurking there.

However, in the very next second, his familiar world was instantly turned upside down. The guard didn't even have time to comprehend how or why he had gone flying into a snowdrift.

“The medallion,” a dry, hoarse whisper sounded over him.

The heavy knee of Isaac Grant ruthlessly pinned the guard’s body into the snow, keeping him from moving.

“Where is it?”

“The medallion?..” The guard, barely regaining his senses from the shock, opened his mouth to call for help, but two short, precise blows to the solar plexus knocked all the air right out of his lungs. Darkness flickered before his eyes for a moment.

“Where?” the mercenary repeated, without a shadow of his former laziness. Grant’s fingers squeezed the guard’s wrist until it cracked with wild pain, twisting his arm behind his back.

“With... with the commander...” the guard rasped desperately, squirming from pain in the snowdrift. “Master Vogel has it...”

Isaac froze for a second, frowning in the night darkness, and then, with a muffled curse, shoved the limp guard further into the shadows.

Adelissa was finishing transcribing the third financial report in a row for the previous month. With every word drawn out by her quill, she grew more solemn and focused. Having rechecked the columns of numbers several times, the girl dipped her quill into the inkwell, but could not bring herself to continue writing. Biting her lip, she hesitated for a moment, wondering whether she should even meddle in this.

Finally, blowing a snow-white lock of hair off her forehead and setting the written sheets aside, Adelissa rose from the desk and walked straight down the corridor toward her father’s office.

She knocked softly on the heavy oak door and cracked it open slightly. Adrian, who was sitting before an impressive stack of official papers, immediately raised a weary gaze.

“Father... may I come in?” she asked hesitantly, shifting from foot to foot on the threshold.

Noticing the clear hesitation in his daughter’s eyes, Fornweir set his quill aside and offered a warm, encouraging smile.

“Of course, sweetheart. Come in. Did something happen?”

Adelissa quietly closed the door behind her and approached her father’s desk.

“I... I am not sure if I ought to speak of this,” she began softly, lowering her gaze. “Perhaps I am simply mistaken, or there is something I do not understand about how outpost matters are conducted...”

“Adelissa,” Adrian interrupted gently yet with gravity, leaning forward. “You can always trust me. If something is bothering you - speak up boldly. I will help you sort through everything.”

The girl took a deep breath.

“I was cross-checking the expense reports for the garrison’s maintenance over the past six months against the buyers’ ledgers. And I stumbled upon very strange discrepancies in the figures. The supply documents for coal, hay, and fence repairs list certain amounts, but nearly one and a half times more has been written off from the outpost treasury. And that is not all...”

Adrian sat up straight in an instant. His smile faded, his gaze turning exceedingly grim.

“Are you certain of your calculations?” he asked quietly.

“I recounted several times, Father,” Adelissa answered convincingly, looking him straight in the eye. “It seems... someone is stealing money from the outpost treasury.”

“Bring the papers to me and point out where the discrepancies are. I will take them to the commander for an investigation.”

A few hours later, Adrian stood in the spacious office of the garrison commander, awaiting the host.

Vogel burst into the room like a hurricane - furious, wound up tight, his face ashen with rage. He had just finished issuing orders to the guard details, personally overseeing the reinforcement of patrols throughout the village of Grünwald.

“Careless fools! They’ve lost all fear!” Vogel hissed menacingly, slamming his leather gloves onto the oak desk with a loud thud. “How dare that cursed mercenary attack an outpost guard in the dead of night?! Beat the lad black and blue... I shouldn't have let that drunkard go yesterday, oh, I shouldn't have! I ought to have let him rot in the dungeon!”

Taking several desperate gulps straight from a pitcher of water, the outpost commander finally turned a heavy gaze upon Adrian and gave a grim nod toward the papers in his hands.

“What is your business, Fornweir?”

Adrian maintained an entirely calm, inscrutable expression. He stepped forward and carefully laid the written sheets out directly in front of Vogel.

“While transcribing the reports for the past six months, Adelissa noticed serious discrepancies in the figures between the buyers’ ledgers and the outpost treasury statements. Far more funds were written off for the purchase of coal and hay than were actually received. I rechecked her calculations - there is no mistake.”

Vogel froze. For a second, a sharp, dangerous shadow flickered in his eyes, but he immediately composed himself and slowly sank into his armchair.

“Well now...” the outpost commander smirked, though the corners of his lips remained lifeless. “Your girl has only been helping us with the papers for a couple of days, and she’s already spotted what foolish adult scribes failed to notice for months.”

He frowned, bringing his palm down heavily on the stack of reports.

“I will look into this personally, Adrian! This is absolutely unacceptable. How dare anyone steal from our outpost treasury?! Leave the papers with me. I will find the guilty party among the treasurers.”

Stepping out of the outpost commander’s office, Adrian saw Adelissa anxiously waiting for him nearby in the half-empty corridor.

“What did Master Vogel say?” she asked softly, catching up to her father.

Adrian walked silently down the corridor, keeping an even, unreadable expression.

“He said he will certainly look into everything and find the thief among the treasurers no matter what.”

Adelissa exhaled with relief, though a hidden anxiety still lingered in her eyes.

“Everything went exactly as you predicted, Father...”

Adrian gave a barely perceptible nod. Reaching the turn, he took a quick, cautious glance around to check if there were any unwanted ears or guards nearby. Leaning down right to his daughter’s ear, he lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper.

“Did you send the copies of those reports to the marquis with the morning mail carriage, as I asked?”

“Yes, Father,” Adelissa replied just as quietly, looking up at him. “As you instructed, I attached them to the official dispatch for the marquis’s chancery and handed them to the courier personally.”

It was stifling inside the outpost commander's office. Vogel stood by the stoked fireplace, silently watching the flames greedily lick the corners of the reports, reducing them to weightless ash.

“Cursed busybodies... Can’t you just sit quietly under my thumb?” he hissed with a venomous sneer, turning the burning sheets with a poker.

He turned his head toward his trusted subordinate, who stood frozen by the door in silence.

“I heard a severe blizzard will set in by evening... The snowdrifts will bury everything so deep you won't see two steps in front of you,” Vogel said, lowering his voice. “It would be best if this proud aristocrat and his clever daughter simply happened to get lost on their way back to the village. In a storm like that... anything can happen.”