Brett wasn’t dead. He should have been sentenced to death, but in order to fully uncover the truth behind the incident, someone who held key information had to be kept alive. And so, through a kind of judicial bargain, his life had been spared. That said, all it meant was that he was still breathing. His freedom was practically nonexistent.
Of course, the possibility that he could inherit the Westfeldt estate and become its duke was out of the question. Which was why, for a brief moment, Allen assumed that he must have misheard. He hadn’t been in the public eye for the past few years, so his name likely wasn’t widely known among the citizens. It wouldn’t be too surprising if someone, upon hearing that the duke had changed, simply assumed it must be Brett.
But Allen quickly dismissed that theory. Even if it was just in name, Riese had inherited the Westfeldt family title. A former princess taking on such a role was bound to draw attention. There was no way that kind of misunderstanding would persist. And if that was the case...then what did this mean?
“Oh? You’ve got a pretty serious look on your face. Hah, don’t tell me! You’ve got someone you know in Westfeldt?”
“Yeah, something like that...”
“I see, I see. Well, I can understand why that’d make you concerned. But I wouldn’t worry too much. It doesn’t sound like anything major happened. And more importantly, His Grace is said to be a wise and just ruler.”
“Is that so?”
“Oh yes. Inheriting the estate at such a young age and yet handling it with a maturity beyond his years... They say he’s doing a fine job. Doesn’t hand down unreasonable judgments, and he takes the lead himself when something happens in the territory. Everyone’s saying Westfeldt’s in good hands.”
Allen had no idea what kind of expression was on his face as he listened. But there was one thing he understood very clearly: He would have to go to Westfeldt immediately.
The journey from the royal capital to Westfeldt was over in an instant. Normally, it would have taken several days of bouncing along in a carriage. But Allen had no time to spare, so he’d transported himself there. Given the urgency of confirming what was happening, it was the only reasonable choice.
And yet, despite the rush, he came to a halt as soon as he arrived, narrowing his eyes at the sight before him. “Hmm. Honestly, I didn’t expect this,” he murmured softly, caught off guard by a sudden wave of nostalgia.
That wasn’t to say there was anything unusual about the scenery. What lay before him was a perfectly ordinary townscape—nothing strange, nothing out of place. Considering he’d just returned to his hometown after a long absence, it shouldn’t have been surprising to feel something.
But still...Allen had thought he’d feel nothing at all. It wasn’t that he had any bad memories here, but that didn’t mean he had any particularly good ones either. Even during the days when people had called him a prodigy, there wasn’t much he could truly call a fond memory.
Well, considering he’d always just wanted to live a quiet, peaceful life, maybe that was natural. Still, that was precisely why he’d assumed that returning to his hometown after so long would stir nothing in him. But apparently, he’d been wrong.
I guess it’d be a lie to say there are no memories here. Or maybe...it’s me who’s changed.
With that thought, Allen took a deep breath, trying to refocus himself. He hadn’t come here to reminisce. This wasn’t a trip for leisure. He’d come to find out what was happening in Westfeldt. There was no time to stand around.
Still, the atmosphere of the town may have been part of what had caused him to stop in his tracks. He’d arrived expecting signs of disruption, some hint of unrest, but instead, the town was peaceful, almost suspiciously so, as if nothing had ever happened. There was no trouble entering the city. The people walking the streets wore calm, cheerful smiles. The air was filled with the buzz of daily life and lively chatter.
It was so calm, in fact, that Allen would’ve found it more believable if someone told him the earlier rumors had been a lie.
“Yeah, I doubt that’s really the case, but honestly, I would believe it if someone just told me the whole thing was a mistake,” Allen said to himself.
Westfeldt was quite a distance from the capital, so delays in the flow of information were normal. Even so, the discrepancy between what he’d heard and what he was seeing now felt far too significant to ignore. Then again, spreading false rumors in the capital about something happening in Westfeldt served no real purpose. What could possibly be gained from it? Unless...the intent had been to lure him there?
No, that was probably overthinking it. He hadn’t chosen any specific people to question in the capital. It had been random. And more importantly, he hadn’t sensed anything suspicious from any of them. To suggest someone had lied just to drive him out of the capital—that was taking things a bit too far.
Well, no point thinking in circles. I’ll just have to ask someone directly.
Fortunately, there didn’t seem to be any shortage of people around he could talk to. Not that just anyone would do. Still...
Hmm... Well, I guess that guy’ll do.
His gaze landed on a man running a grilled skewer stand. He looked like the perfect choice, an approachable type, and since he had a stall set up, it was safe to assume he hadn’t just arrived in town yesterday. If Allen bought something while asking questions, the man probably wouldn’t brush him off. All in all, he seemed like an ideal source of information.