A few days later, the investigation team returned with leads on the cultists.
According to their findings, rituals worshipping Tiramer were indeed taking place regularly on the outskirts of the village.
Reports followed suggesting a high probability that the ringleaders were in collusion with the Zram. In recent months, the volume of logistical goods moved by certain villagers had surged noticeably.
They appeared to have served as intermediaries, stashing plundered goods before passing them to Zram operatives disguised as itinerant peddlers.
The investigation team swiftly carried out a covert sweep, rounding up those who had aided the enemy and locking them in the dungeons of Raedgo Castle. Through a harsh interrogation that spared no torture, they wrung out several details regarding the Zram.
“It seems the raiders disperse during peacetime, blending in as peddlers or mercenaries to evade pursuit, and only assemble when they plan a full-scale raid.”
Baredon spoke as he climbed the stairs from the underground torture chamber, tossing aside his bloodstained gloves.
“They appear to have informants planted all across the East. I’m told three people right here in Kalmor are aiding them.”
“Did you get their names?”
Lucas asked half-heartedly, slumped in a stiff wooden chair while leafing through a stack of parchment.
Baredon gave a shrug.
“Two of them. One is a wool merchant named Tarnek from the woolen guild, and the other is an apothecary named Silvar. The third name, they truly didn’t seem to know.”
“Ha! And you believe that?”
“Given that they held out until the bones in their fingers were crushed to powder, it seems to be the truth.”
Baredon let out a sigh and massaged the back of his stiff neck with one hand.
“Two is enough for now anyway. We drag them in, force them to name the date and staging ground where the raiders will gather, and lie in wait to wipe them out in one stroke…. By the way, what are you looking at so intently?”
Baredon frowned and leaned over Lucas’s shoulder to glance at the sheets. His brow furrowed in bewilderment at the silverpoint sketch of a young woman on the yellowed paper.
“What’s with the drawing?”
“Candidates for my future betrothed, courtesy of my dear brother.”
Lucas spoke with a sour edge, leaning his chair back on two legs and rocking slowly.
A broad, delighted grin spread across Baredon’s face.
“His Grace certainly wastes no time. At this rate, the Shearkan family will be hosting a grand celebration before long, won’t they?”
“Put those teeth away before I cave your face in.”
At that low growl, the grinning knight promptly tucked his lips back in.
Scowling at him in irritation, Lucas flipped the portrait over. This time, the sketch revealed a young woman with a soft, round face and large, round eyes.
Recognizing her, Baredon chimed in with enthusiasm.
“Oh, that’s the young lady from House Kalihof! She’s well-known for her gentle temper and deep piety. Her age suits yours, too…. She seems like a wonderful match for you, young master.”
“I have no interest in women who look that soft and round.”
Dismissing the suggestion flatly, Lucas turned to the next sheet.
Baredon tilted his head.
“Then what kind of woman do you favor?”
“Fair skin and a slender neck.”
He answered dismissively while studying a drawing of a sharper, more resolute face, only to notice a strange stillness in the air.
Looking up, Lucas caught Baredon staring at him with an odd, searching look, and his brows knit together.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Well… with criteria like that, you’d have to look to the Osirian nobility to find a bride.”
Baredon skirted the subject, letting out a dry, awkward chuckle.
Lucas replied in a flat voice.
“I’m only stating a preference. Realistically, taking a daughter from an Eastern house is the only sound choice.”
“True enough…. It would do far more to shore up unity within our borders.”
The trouble was that not a single daughter from any of those suitable houses sparked the slightest interest in him.
Clicking his tongue, Lucas riffled through the rest of the portraits before rising to his feet. He wanted nothing more than to toss them into the hearth as kindling, but he held back, knowing the hell he would catch for it.
For now, the wiser move was to at least look as though he were complying with his brother’s wishes.
Rolling the bundle of parchment tight, he shoved it into the leather pouch at his belt and strode out of the barracks. As he walked, he threw an order over his shoulder to Baredon.
“Gather the investigators at once and post a tight watch on those heretics. Make sure they take every precaution so our targets don’t catch wind and bolt.”
“And where will you be, young master?”
“Going to report the interrogation results to my brother.”
Lucas muttered the answer with an exasperated scowl, turning down the steps.
By this hour, Varkas would be locked in the council chamber, arguing back and forth with the provincial lords over the reorganization of the Eastern garrison.
In a way, that suited him fine. He could simply leave the report with the squire outside the study and slip away unnoticed.
He marched along the rampart atop the inner bailey wall when a shrill voice cut through the air.
Looking down past the stone parapet, Lucas froze in his tracks. There, on the path leading toward the garden, Talia and Raina stood locked in confrontation.
Raina was spitting words in a venomous pitch, shaking with rage, while the Dire Wolf bared its fangs at her. Panic broke out among the guards, who rushed to wedge themselves between the two women.
After a suffocating beat of tension, the Grand Duchess fixed Raina with an icy stare, turned on her heel, and led the beast away down the opposite path.
Having held his breath through the entire exchange, Lucas finally bolted down the stone steps.
“Raina!”
His younger sister, who was stalking toward the inner gate as if heading for the stables, glanced back.
Lucas waved the soldiers back with a sharp gesture, caught Raina by the wrist, and dragged her toward a secluded recess in the wall.
“What in the world did you say to Sister-in-law?”
“Is that why you chased after me? Just to ask that?”
Raina let out an incredulous laugh, roughly wrenching her arm free from his grip.
Lucas looked down at her with a hard, unyielding glare.
“I told you to stop picking fights with her at every turn. Like it or not, Talia Roem Shearkan is the Grand Duchess of the East. How do you not see that she could ruin you if she truly set her mind to it?”
“Listen to you, pretending you actually care about me.”
Raina sneered, her mouth twisting with venom.
Lucas bristled, his voice rising in anger.
“Of course I care about you! Who else would I be looking out for, if not my own sister?”
The smirk vanished from Raina’s face. She stared at him with an unsettling, piercing look, and under that gaze—as if she could see straight through his skull—Lucas felt his cheeks burn, forcing him to avert his eyes.
“Just… stop stirring up trouble for no reason. We already have more headaches than we can handle….”
“Don’t act like you and Brother are the only ones who care about this family.”
Raina’s tone turned brutally sharp.
“I care about the East just as much as you do.”
“Then stop making things worse and—”
“I’m not the one making things worse—she is!”
Raina’s hazel eyes blazed as she glared up at him.
“Why can’t you see that witch is the root of everything that’s gone wrong! The whole castle has been thrown into chaos since she arrived! And now she parades that monster around the grounds, starting fights everywhere she goes—so why am I the only one you blame…!”
Lucas lunged forward and clamped his hand over her mouth.
“Keep your voice down, Raina! Have you completely lost your mind? Do you have any idea what will happen if this reaches Brother’s ears?”
“Get off me!”
With arms hardened by years in the saddle, Raina shoved him back with surprising force, her teeth gritted as she spat fire with her eyes.
“Do you think I’m doing this out of petty spite? I only confronted her because she’s been acting suspicious!”
“Hah… what absurd accusation is it this time? Enough, just drop it….”
“I’m telling the truth!”
Raina practically fumed, shaking with indignation.
“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve seen her slip out of the castle at dawn? She’s sneaking out every night to do something illicit! Even that healing sorceress’s death reeks of foul play! On the very day that woman vanished, the princess slipped out beyond the gates with that wolf of hers!”
Lucas stared down at his sister, his gaze steeped in disbelief.
Every gate of Raedgo Castle was barred shut at sunset. Not even a rat could slip through without leave from the night watch. How on earth could the Grand Duchess be wandering in and out as she pleased?
“If that’s true, why hasn’t a single soul other than you seen her leave?”
“That’s… because…”
Raina’s eyes darted frantically as if caught in an internal war, but she abruptly shut her mouth.
Lucas let out a weary breath.
“Stop spreading baseless slander. You’re grown now, Raina. How long are you going to throw tantrums like a spiteful child?”
At his exasperated reprimand, his sister’s slender face hardened into stone. Glaring at him with bloodshot eyes, Raina wheeled around without another word.
“Believe whatever you want.”
She strode through the inner gate, marching across the training grounds with furious strides.
Watching her retreat until she disappeared, Lucas stood frozen where he was, then roughly raked a hand through his hair.
END