Chapter 58
58. Statement2022.03.20.
Reina explained to Kay everything she had done up to now. Kay listened intently, jotting her words down on paper, and occasionally confirmed the statements she made. It wasn’t an interrogative atmosphere. Kay’s voice was utterly casual. It was as peaceful as explaining how to repot a plant without killing it. Yet despite the considerate tone, the very nature of the content made Reina swallow dryly.
“The one who gave the orders was the Marchioness, and you passed the information along by writing notes, correct?”
“Yes.”
“You handed off a note once before, and this was the second time, but it ended up being seen by Sir Arthur and Sir Tristan.”
Reina nodded. The confirmation of her statement continued.
“The information you passed along was that you met the Crown Prince in that guise and received an invitation to the debutante ball. And that Sir Arthur doesn’t eat mushrooms…… those two things, right?”
Reina glanced at him cautiously.
“……Yes. Even if you don’t believe me…… there’s no way to prove it…….”
Kay spoke as if it were no big deal.
“It’s not that I don’t believe you. It’s just procedure to ask once more.”
Kay calmly verified that her statement matched what Arthur had relayed to him, filling in the new details they hadn’t known before.
“The route for delivering the note was through a maid or the family physician?”
“…….”
For the first time, Reina fell silent, unable to answer. It was a question that seemed likely to bring harm to the implicated party. She herself had steeled herself for the consequences and had fortunately earned Sir Arthur’s favor, but would Sir Arthur and Sir Kay extend mercy to Doctor Lorenson as well?
「One day is fine.」
Reina didn’t want Doctor Lorenson—who had secretly given her medicine behind the Marchioness’s back, just for her sake—to suffer because of her. She was also troubled by the fact that Doctor Lorenson wished to continue serving the Julius family, the house Sir Arthur would one day inherit.
“That’s……. Um…….”
“…….”
Kay gazed at her silently, waiting for her response as if giving her all the time she needed. With an anxious look, Reina clutched the inside of her sleeve tightly and bit her lip.
“If I tell you who it was, then…….”
“You don’t have to say.”
“……Yes?”
Kay dropped his gaze to the paper. His hand moved serenely across the page.
“You’re worried they’ll come to harm, right? Understood. Exercise your right to silence.”
“…….”
Reina was so touched by Sir Kay’s kindness that emotion welled up in her throat. An interrogation this gentle.
“…….”
And those slightly misty eyes, those flushed cheeks. Lips pressed firmly together as she struggled to hold back, pretending all was normal……. Seeing how every bit of it showed plainly on her face, Kay found himself missing the hardened spies and prisoners once more. What a fine double agent she’d make. Fat chance. He stifled the sigh threatening to escape. The messenger was obvious anyway. It had to be the family physician, Alvin Lorenson. The maids were always on standby in the head maid’s waiting room. They were occasionally summoned to the ‘real Lady Christina’ as well, but the reason those two in particular were rotated in was likely because they were the only ones among the maids who knew of this mess. They showed faint signs of unease precisely because they knew nothing else. No other suspicious activity. By contrast, Alvin Lorenson would treat the Marchioness after her stair fall on the pretext of seeing to the Lady, then invariably head off to visit the Marchioness. So of course the one receiving the intelligence notes was Alvin Lorenson—it was almost disappointingly predictable. By feigning ignorance and offering her the ‘right to silence’ on such an obvious detail just to earn the trust and gratitude of this innocent young lady, Kay suddenly felt like a lowlife thug akin to Francis. He swallowed a groan deep inside. Outwardly, of course, he kept up the impeccably serene poker face of the perfect gentlemanly intelligence officer.
“Then let’s move on.”
Reina’s eyes sparkled as she nodded vigorously. She looked ready to cooperate fully with whatever came next. Kay asked in the same steady, even tone as before.
“Do you have any requests for us?”
“Yes?”
Kay continued.
“Like any immediate help the Lady needs, or any inconveniences.”
“…….”
Reina blinked at him in mild surprise. What I want…? Something sprang to mind at once, of course, but she hesitated to voice it right away, as if laying her neck bare. Kay went on.
“For now, we’re planning to replace the maids. It must be uncomfortable for you.”
“……Replace the maids?”
“Yes. Anyone giving you trouble? Finding new ones will take a little time, but if there’s someone inconvenient right now, we’ll swap them out as quickly as possible. Of course, if you wish, we can dismiss both maids immediately. So long as you can manage the inconvenience of going without assisting maids for a bit.”
Reina’s eyes wavered. The word ‘replace the maids’ immediately brought Brody to mind—those desperate eyes pleading, Don’t abandon me……. Reina lowered her gaze and fidgeted blankly with her hands. A chance to replace the maids… for that choice to actually fall to her. It felt so strange. But if she replaced Brody now, wouldn’t the Marchioness’s wrath come down on her? What suspicious thing did she even do to deserve getting fired when she hasn’t been ordered to do anything? Hot on Brody’s heels came Marina—prickly and snappish on the surface, yet always the first to guess what she was fretting or curious about and answer accordingly. She put up a tough front, but she was kind at heart. Without time to think it through deeply, Reina opened her mouth and stammered haltingly.
“Th-the maids are fine, I think. I like Brody and Marina. They’re not inconvenient. No need to replace them…….”
It was because the potential ‘trials of a dismissed maid’ they might endure had flashed through her mind.
“…….”
Kay regarded Reina steadily. He’d expected her to say replace at least one, if not both. But no—she wanted to keep them both. The maids are fine, this innocent, foolish girl. That means the one passing the notes was the family physician.
* * * At that very moment, a junior knight leaped from his horse and pounded urgently on the gates of the Julius Marquis mansion. The guards at the main entrance naturally blocked his path, demanding to know who in the mansion he had an appointment with. With no prior arrangement, of course, the knight was denied entry. He floundered, pleading stammeringly to summon ‘Sir Arthur’ or ‘Sir Lukan.’ If that was too much trouble, then at least pass word to the close knights that a knight had come seeking ‘Sir Dillon.’ Naturally, the Marquis mansion wasn’t the sort of place where any random knight could gain entry just by begging like that. Still, the Marquis’s guards exchanged uneasy glances. They were servants who took orders from the Marquis and Marchioness, but they had a sense of the mansion’s recent atmosphere. They realized sending away a knight seeking ‘Sir Arthur’ on their own authority might spell big trouble. Yet rashly opening the gates for a supposed guest of Sir Arthur filled them with dread as well. On the flip side, Sir Arthur might snap at them: Dare summon me for something like this? You plan to drag in everyone who claims they need to see me? Didn’t I say I meet no one outside my duties as Triumphal General? Such predicaments were commonplace for high nobles’ servants. If these were knights important to Arthur, their names would be plastered across the gazettes by now—but ‘Sir Dillon’ was unfamiliar, and the knight at the gate didn’t look high-ranking either. When asked if it was official business, the knight couldn’t confirm it. Flustered, the guards offered that if he explained the situation, they would, depending on the matter, inquire with Supreme Commander Sir Arthur’s close knights whether a meeting could be arranged. * * * Aura swirled around Arthur.
“…….”
Arthur untangled the fingers laced over his knee and rose from his seat.
“……?”
Tristan looked up at him in puzzlement.
“Your Excellency?”
Arthur adjusted his cufflinks and gazed down at Tristan with calm composure.
“On your feet, Tristan. We need to go.”
“Yes?”
Tristan echoed in surprise but rose at once. Arthur rarely lost his smile at the outset of speech, yet his face now held no expression.
“What is it?”
Arthur turned his head and gave a curt reply.
“Dillon.”
The name of his old comrade from Arthur’s lips made Tristan halt in his tracks. Dillon. It was a name that could bring all four of Arthur’s closest aides up short in an instant. The moment Tristan took a step, Lionel flung open the office door—as if he’d forgotten to knock, his demeanor urgent.
“……Your Excellency!”
Lionel called to him from beyond the threshold. His voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed urgency. Behind him stood a knight, no doubt bearing Dillon’s news, his own gaze fraught with anxiety. Without even asking what the issue was, Tristan donned his overcoat and said,
“If it’s something we all need to attend to, I’ll fetch Lukan as well.”
Arthur gave a short nod.
“Bring him.”
As he brushed past Lionel, Arthur lowered his voice with instructions.
“……Tell Kay to report separately on his talk with my wife.”
Lionel nodded.
“Understood.”
Arthur reined in his aura. * * *
“……?”
Reina suddenly faltered, blinking in surprise. Kay picked up on her peculiar shift and asked,
“Lady? What’s wrong?”
With a faintly bewildered expression, Reina rubbed the back of her neck.
“A sudden breeze…….”
“Breeze?”
Kay, seemingly oblivious to it himself, turned with puzzled eyes to check if a window was open.
“……?”
Yet the quiet reception room offered no entry for any wind. Reina noticed as much and trailed off uncertainly.
“I thought I felt a breeze…….”
* * * The knights once called Arthur’s closest aides had originally numbered five: Tristan Gottfried, Kay Ford, Lukan Rushman, Lionel Jackson. And Dillon Osborn. But war had left deep scars on Dillon Osborn, one of Arthur’s finest close knights, keeping him from returning to the front lines as a knight. He had survived, fortunately, but endured severe aftereffects from torture. He couldn’t walk despite not having lost his legs. He suffered from acute neurosis and had attempted suicide once. He had only just returned in the rearmost convoy with those who’d lost limbs or sustained grave injuries—quietly, behind the splendid triumphal procession honoring the celebrated knights, alongside the wounded and disabled soldiers. * * * Just before Arthur, Tristan, and Lukan mounted their horses, the knight gave a brief report of the situation.
“Sir Dillon Osborn attempted suicide.”
It was his second try.
