The next morning, Aiden and Deborah had breakfast together in the inn's dining room.
"It was indeed a quiet night," Aiden said, yawning; he had only slept a few hours in the latter half of the night.
"Yes, nothing happened," Deborah absentmindedly pushed the food into her mouth.
It had been an utterly peaceful night; the dual-identity murderer she had been worried about didn't even show a shadow, and Aiden hadn't done anything either, only touched her once—when he woke her up to take over the night watch in the latter half of the night.
For some reason, there was always a sense of frustration...
However, seeing Mr. Aiden's sleeping face could be considered a nice gain, too bad there wasn't a camera to capture it.
"In about another week, it will be the night of the full moon, and it doesn't seem likely that the dual-identity murderer is ready to move anytime soon," said Aiden.
