My father and Uncle Dearest sat across from each other at the desk in his study. There was another person there, standing, by the way. It wasn’t me or Edgar—it was Klifford. For all the stink he put up about Klifford coming in the room earlier, my father sure was keen to order him into the room when Uncle Dearest came in. So I shot him a You may enter command with my eyes as well.
He was on standby next to the door inside the room, and as far as I could tell…he was no longer holding his sandwiches. Either he had shoved them in his suit pocket or eaten them… I wondered which.
After a formal greeting to my father—king of the nation—Uncle Dearest put a thoughtful hand to his chin.
Woo, Uncle Dearest’s charcoal-gray eyes met mine a little.
“With Lord Edgar and Princess Octavia here, I suppose I’ve disturbed you all.”
Taking advantage of my namedrop, I spoke to him, “Unc— Duke Nightfellow, so good to see you again.”
Oops, I almost called him Uncle Dearest there.
“Yes, indeed. So good to see you looking well.”
I basked in the glow of his warm gaze.
“I apologize for being unable to say good-bye properly at the junior ball,” he added with a bow.
“Oh, you aren’t at fault.”
I mean, I fell asleep! No way could Uncle Dearest say good-bye to me then.
“I suppose…things were rather difficult for you after that.”
There was a hint of empathy in his eyes.
“Ah—you mean the survey.”
“Yes, I heard what happened. I wish I could have done something to help…”
He heard…from Derek, I assume?
“You helped more than necessary at the junior ball, Duke,” my father said. “The survey would have been too much.”
“More than necessary”… Shots fired! My father is definitely acting weird today. He’s more…emotional than usual? He was the same with Edgar…but he’s clearly being salty with Uncle Dearest today. He usually keeps his feelings hidden. Did my cunning plan to mend their relationship by having Uncle Dearest give him the true crown backfire?
I was sure that would improve my father’s opinion of Uncle Dearest.
“It’s the thought that counts,” I butted in. “There weren’t many casualties anyway…and the survey itself was carried out start to finish.”
“Yes, like the distribution of flowers. I heard the people loved it. And my wife—she immediately put in a dress order at the clothing shop you both went to. She was terribly excited, let me tell you.”
Ooh! Did I help Melina’s business? An order from a duchess is great PR!
“She also suggested we go to the restaurant where you ate lunch. Oh, and she told me she already purchased a fan with wreven feathers…it’s rather overwhelming,” he finished with a sheepish smile.
“So did the shop of sundries also—”
But just as I said the word, I returned to my senses. Every shop I visited during the survey was immensely satisfying, so I had slipped into that bad habit unique to otaku: I wanted to spread the gospel. But wanting a bunch of customers to go to that shop of sundries was a selfish desire on my part. I know they should be left alone, and that now was the worst time to bring them up, besides.
“Yes, Princess… I heard you visited Lord Edgar’s family home?”
I felt the mood frost over around me. The malice came from my father.
“Leif,” he snapped, staring harshly at the man. “Enough chitchat. It’s intolerable.”
Uncle Dearest smiled.
“Forgive me. Chatting with Octavia is so much fun I trespassed on your kindness. For that, I apologize.”
He gave a flawless nobleman’s bow—though that was to be expected, since he was Derek’s father.
“At ease,” my father sighed.
Uncle Dearest complied.
“Leif. This is the fifth time now.”
Huh? Fifth what?
But it was Uncle Dearest’s next words that clarified what he meant.
“Due to a decree by the former king, the head of House Nightfellow is free to request an audience with His Majesty the King whenever he wishes. However, including now, you could count the number of times I have personally exercised this right on one hand. I do this in service of Esfia, I assure you. Please pardon me, Your Majesty.”
“Yes, I am well aware of your love for king and country.”
“Your words humble me, Your Majesty.”
My father lowered his chin with a silent, “Out with it, then.”
“Regarding the junior ball—and this pertains to Princess Octavia, too, of course—and the sentence you decided for the traitors we captured, Adjutants included… I have doubts, Your Majesty.”
The normal order of operations was to carry out an investigation, then hold trial, then carry out a sentence.
But if he has doubts…that must mean they aren’t being given due process. Did Uncle Dearest come here to negotiate directly with the king?
“We should discuss this in private. Edgar. Octavia.”
In other words, “Get out.”
I took the hint.
“Come with me, Lord Edgar. Klifford, take the lead.”
Since Edgar’s bodyguard was nowhere in sight, it made the most sense for him to leave with someone who had a bodyguard.
“Thanks, Octavia.”
Klifford walked out of the study and Edgar followed behind. I stopped by the open door—but just before stepping outside, I spoke to the gentleman staying behind.
“Duke Nightfellow…”
He immediately looked at me.
There was something…something I’d wanted to confirm the next time I saw Uncle Dearest.
“Duke Nightfellow. You and the former head of the house…were you on good terms?”
He died the day Alexis was born, so Kihlgren surely had a relationship with the man before he became duke.
Uncle Dearest’s charcoal-gray eyes narrowed to slits, and he wasn’t the only one who reacted this way. My father’s face was completely emotionless, as if he had killed every bit of feeling that threatened to escape.
“You speak of the late Duke Kihlgren, I assume.”
“Yes.”
Uncle Dearest nodded once.
“Indeed. His will played a great role in my becoming head of House Nightfellow.”
“So…do you know what he looked like when he was young?”
“Yes, I do.” His answer was warm and peaceful.
“……”
Uncle Dearest was not lying. He answered truthfully. Was that because I had asked him?
Then…why…? When he saw Rust in the Sky Chamber, why hadn’t he reacted at all? Of course, he didn’t have to react. Maybe he wasn’t surprised by the sight of Rust because he already knew him? But…I didn’t get that vibe. Maybe he knew Rust’s name and knew the name of the eldest son of House Byrne was Rust.
And let’s say he hadn’t known what Rust looked like. If that were the case, he would have immediately thought of Duke Kihlgren the moment Rust took off his mask.
…Had he not known what the man had looked like when he was younger? No…that can’t be true; Derek told me he saw a portrait of the young duke at their house. No way would Uncle Dearest not know that.
In addition…when I asked him that question…why did he give me such a non-answer? He was quiet. I know—just because he knows something, he’s not obligated to tell me about it. Uncle Dearest did nothing wrong, but I just can’t let this go…because of the connection this all has to that mysterious young man. The face…that looks just like his.
My father is just as suspect. What happened between him and Kihlgren? I was fixated on the fact that he looked like that mysterious young man, but in my father’s case I think it’s the other way around. He had beef with Duke Kihlgren—personal beef?
“Something troubling you?”
I quickly looked up at Edgar in a fluster. Behind him, I saw the pillar that young Alec used to hide behind. Since there were other bodyguards by the Great Corridor, we were going to drop off Edgar with them. Klifford would temporarily guard us both.