Chapter 42: The Grand Duke Visits a Charity (3)

The silence in the room became delicious.

Abi smiled at the window. He didn’t utter a single word since my conversation with Lady Marielle started. I guess he is making good on his behavior.

Master Hollis visibly paled while the clerk froze though he recovered just as quickly. These people are way too obvious. No wonder they remained as lackeys.

Lady Marielle’s voice remained soft. "Misplacing, Your Grace?"

"It is merely a hypothetical concern. I have heard that such things do happen in places removed from our sight and knowledge."

Her eyes lowered slightly. When she looked up again, her smile was thinner. "I see. Your Excellency has a formidable reputation. It would be unwise for any institution to behave improperly under your gaze."

"That’s true. Most improper institutions hope my gaze never turns toward them. It would be most unfortunate for them."

"And has it? Has His Excellency’s gaze turned?"

I smiled.

"Well, I am here, am I not? I’d also want to find that out."

Master Hollis looked ready to faint.

Good. He should get it over with. Fainting men often dropped useful things. I wonder what good things he would have the bad luck to drop.

Lady Marielle did not faint. She was probably made of sturdier material. Perhaps not innocent, perhaps not guilty, but definitely involved enough to understand danger.

"Your Excellency," she said slowly, "if there are concerns, I would be happy to assist."

"Really? Would you?"

"Of course. House Rouvier has supported this foundation for years in good faith."

Good faith. What another lovely phrase.

"Then you would have no objection to a review."

Her fingers stilled. "A review?"

"Of this charity’s records, placements, donations, sponsorships, and even blessing ceremonies."

The cleric finally spoke. "Your Excellency, temple-related ceremonies are under ecclesiastical jurisdiction."

I turned to him. He stopped breathing for a second.

"Oh, are they?"

"Yes."

"How comforting. Then the temple should have immaculate records, then."

He did not answer. Very telling.

Lady Marielle intervened smoothly. "Such reviews take time to arrange."

"I am a patient person."

Abi coughed. I ignored him.

"Very patient," I added, because lies should be worn confidently.

Lady Marielle studied me. She knew I was not merely asking. She knew refusing would be an admission. She knew agreeing would expose something. She also knew that she hardly had any choice on the matter. Because hardly anything is prohibited from me, the Grand Duke.

A beautiful trap. It was small, but sufficient enough to catch prey.

"I... will speak to the board," she said.

"How generous of you, my lady."

"However, I cannot promise immediate access. It would depend on the board’s decision."

"That’s unfortunate, I quite dislike delays. I can get impatient, you see. And when I’m impatient, I do things people usually finds... troublesome. "

"Then I shall do my best."

"See that you do."

The conversation staggered after that, limping through acceptable topics with the dignity of a wounded peacock. It was still commendably, though. Lady Marielle eventually offered another unnecessary thanks for my assistance at the ball, this time with fewer hidden claws which I accepted graciously.

Balance was important. I can’t keep hitting her with a stick and not offer a carrot. That would be inefficient.

Before leaving, I requested a tour. Naturally, they could not refuse.

We passed the classrooms, dormitories, the dining hall, a small infirmary, and a prayer room. Everything looked clean, ordered, and presentable. There was hardly anything suspicious. And there lay the problem.

In the infirmary, I stopped before a cabinet of medicines.

"Do the children here awaken mana often?" I asked.

The healer on duty stiffened. "Some of them, Your Excellency."

"Enough to require a stock of stabilizers?"

"Occasionally, yes."

I glanced over the labels. There were ordinary tonics, some fever reducers, sleep draughts, mana-calming drops and nutritional supplements.

And one empty bottle pushed too far back with its label scratched off. Hah. How careless.

I did not bother touching it. Abi’s gaze flickered toward it once, then away.

In the dormitory hall, Mil stood near a doorway holding a stack of folded linens. When he saw me, he froze.

I paused at the sight but did not comment on it.

"Do you still want to learn maps?"

His eyes widened, surprised that I talked to him again.

Master Hollis smiled nervously. "Your Excellency, Mil must return to his chores."

I looked at the administrator. He is being irritating. I wasn’t even talking to him.

"He is seven, right?"

"Yes, sire."

"Why is he doing chores when it should be study hours?"

"It’s just... responsibility builds character, Your Excellency."

"Does it? I thought adults invented that saying to justify their own laziness."

Abi laughed outright.

Lady Marielle looked away while the administrator turned the color of old cheese. It looked ugly on him.

I looked back at Mil. "Read when you can."

The boy nodded once, barely daring.

I continued walking before anyone could accuse me of adopting another child.

The thought did occur but I crushed it immediately as it came.

No.

One son acquired through magical blood integration was enough for now. He was already a handful.

When we finally returned to the entrance hall, the drizzle outside had stopped. The garden smelled wet and green. Several children watched from the classroom windows, quickly ducking away when attendants noticed.

I stepped into the portico.

Lady Marielle curtsied again. "Your Excellency, Lord Abinatha. Thank you for visiting."

"It was an informative visit," I said.

Her smile strained. "I am glad."

"I’ll take that at face value."

A pause.

Then she smiled properly, though it was not gentle now. "I hope your visit has been beneficial."

"That depends on whom it benefits."

"Indeed."

Oh? There was more to this woman. It was not necessarily innocence, not guilt either.

But calculation? That was for certain.

Perhaps she supported the charity without knowing the rot. Perhaps she knew part of it and tolerated it for factional purposes. Perhaps she was trapped in a web she had helped decorate or maybe she was simply very good at pretending to be uncertain.

I would find out soon. I always did, anyway.

Inside the carriage, Abi finally spoke.

"There is an underground chamber under that estate. A rather large one."

"Yes."

"The cleric obviously knows about it."

"He does."

"The lady might also be in the know."

"That’s a possibility."

"That fat administrator definitely knows about it."

"Obviously."

Abi leaned back. "Are we raiding it then?"

"Not yet."

He groaned. "Ugh, humans and their need for delays."

"We must secure evidence first."

"Then raid?"

"Then controlled dismantling. Raid in your vocabulary is to have everything explode."

"That sounds less fun."

"It leaves better ruins than an explosion."

He considered that. "Fine. That does sound to still be enjoyable."

I looked out the window as the carriage moved away from the House of Gentle Mercy.

Mil’s small face appeared briefly behind one of the windows and then vanished.

I closed my eyes.

How troublesome.

That charity was connected to Spiro’s route and the temple scent was stronger there. There was an underground chamber for sure. Children were being assessed by sponsor interest and spiritual compatibility.

What for? I’m not really sure at this point. It could be to better determine their worth. It could also be for something else entirely.

The Crown Prince’s condition involved suppressed life force, black salt wards, and possible temple involvement.

The lower vault contained records of prayer-wearing enemies.

The pattern was not complete yet. But a shape had finally begun to appear.

And I disliked the form it was taking.

When we returned to the Elysian Estate, William awaited us with a letter in hand.

"Your Excellency," he said, "a message from Sonomi."

I accepted it, recognizing my own seal. It didn’t look like a new message. So, it was probably a reply.

To the letter I had sent my parents after arriving in the Capital.

Ah.

So, the migratory lovebirds had finally read it.

I opened the letter.

The handwriting was my mother’s. I recognized it all too quickly.

It had its signature elegant, precise, and equally terrifying presence like it’s owner.

My dearest Skandar,

Your father cried. Twice.

Once upon learning we have gained another son older than both of us, and again upon learning we have gained a grandson through unconventional means and without us being present to spoil him first.

We are coming home.

Do not attempt to dissuade us.

Lovingly,

Your Mother

A second note was tucked beneath it. It was obvious who it was from. My father must have sneaked this when it was about to be sent and was away from my mother’s eyes.

My beloved son,

Your mother has already packed. I tried to suggest patience so I could stall some time for you.

Alas, she only smiled. Pray for me.

Also, congratulations on fatherhood. I am very proud.

Your unfortunate father

I stared at the letters with Abi looking over my shoulder, reading it as well. He burst into laughter.

"Your parents are intriguing people."

I closed my eyes.

The ancient relics, suspicious charities, hidden illnesses, temple basements, and possible child trafficking networks were no longer the most immediate threats to my peace.

My parents were coming here. To the Capital.

That is the real catastrophe.