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ADAM Fisher. Male, estimated 26 years old.
Body found in woods near Dansk Fortress.
Cause of death: Possible poisoning.
Poisoning. Riddhe couldn’t help but frown at the word.
After obtaining special permission from Empress Elizabeth, he’d entered the royal archives, where he’d accessed the security records of the Kingsley area kept by the Royal Capital Guard.
The records confirmed his worst suspicions. There was also a brief summary of witness testimonies and the circumstances in which the body was found. The only other useful piece of information was that Adam had been in Egdiel a few days before he was discovered dead.
Riddhe frowned in thought. There was a chance that the man with the scarred hand was not Adam Fisher, but the circumstances surrounding him were still too suspicious.
First, Adam died just days after Loid was assassinated six years ago. While that might have been a coincidence, if Charlotte’s words were to be trusted, Adam had left Ist Company and disappeared just a year prior to when the man with the scarred hand had first visited the Sutherland mansion.
Now, the cause of Adam’s death. Did he ingest the poison himself, or was it given to him? Either option was a cause for concern.
If Adam was the scarred man, he’d traveled to Heilland of his own accord after he left Ist, then contacted Loid. Then he spent the next few years as an informant. When the plot was uncovered, he’d fled back to Erdal but could have been silenced just like Loid.
…That mastermind is truly repulsive.
Anger bubbled up inside Riddhe as his grip tightened on the documents. He held no sympathy for the cowardly informant who colluded with his father but had pure rage for the mastermind who killed without hesitation just to keep himself safe.
Riddhe shook his head to clear it. It was dangerous to assume the scarred man was Adam without definitive proof. He had to lay low for a little longer.
“Hey. Do you have more records on this incident?” He called out to the old archivist standing nearby.
“What?”
The old man’s gaze was unmoving as he stared at Riddhe. His hunched back made him appear short, but his eyes still held a certain imposing aura. Riddhe stayed clear of the man as he shuffled closer to peer at the documents, his nose almost touching the paper.
Empress Elizabeth had mentioned that the archivist had been dedicated to his job for almost seventy years and knew most of the information here like the back of his hand. Despite the warning, Riddhe was still startled when the old man emerged from the dark depths of the archive rooms like an angry imp crawling out of its cave.
The old man lifted his face from the records, his nose scrunched in disgust. “Nothing. I told you, there’s no more. I thought I’d seen the last of you lot, but here you are again…”
“What? So you’re saying there’s been others interested in this case?” Riddhe asked.
“Of course. That persistent lad.” The old man frowned and shook his head as if the memory alone disgusted him, all while mumbling, “It’s been six years already” and “He’s obsessed, I tell you…” under his breath. Riddhe was shocked.
“Are you referring to Barnabas McGregor?”
“Don’t know his name. Don’t care what it is.”
“He’s a merchant from Ist. Tanned and looks like a sailor.”
“Yes, yes. That’s him,” the archivist grumbled as if the memory annoyed him. “Had no permit but demanded to see the records, and once he knew I wouldn’t give in, he tried to get me to talk…”
Riddhe nodded. So Barnabas had doubts about Adam’s death as well, which meant that it definitely happened under unusual circumstances.
Satisfied that he’d gotten as much information as he could, Riddhe returned the records to the archivist and left the room. Pushing the heavy iron door open, he left the stink of old, damp paper behind for much-needed fresh air. Taking a quiet breather, he passed by the guards on duty and stepped outside.
“Al! There you are,” he said.
“Oh… Master!!” Albert, who had been waiting fearfully next to a towering knight, lit up in relief at the sight of his master. Quickly, he fell into step behind Riddhe. “You came out quicker than expected. I thought you would take much longer, seeing how big the archive rooms are.”
“That’s because of the archivist. Without him, I probably would have been trapped in the labyrinth of records and become part of the collection of musty papers.”
“I’m grateful for him, then. By the way, you seem to be in a good mood, Master Riddhe.”
“Oh, you can tell? Well, I am in a very good mood. It’s nice to be making progress, especially with all the waiting I’ve had to do lately.” Then Riddhe’s expression darkened. “Next is the Ist trading post. It’s about time I talk to Barnabas.”
“In that case, we should head to Kingsley Castle instead, Master.”
“Why?”
Riddhe stopped in his tracks and turned to Albert with a doubtful look. The servant answered with pride.
“I spoke to Lady Crowne this morning. Barnabas will visit the castle today with Ist’s exclusive fashion designer to take measurements for dresses for Empress Elizabeth’s twin princesses, Her Highnesses Laurencia and Liliana.”
“That’s very useful. Good work, Al.”
“Just doing my best.”
Albert scratched at his cheek, embarrassed by the praise from his master. Despite his humility, Riddhe had known Albert long enough to know his servant had been working hard to gather information, knowing that Riddhe would wish to speak with Barnabas soon.
Albert could probably see through him in the same way, too. Clearing his throat, he gestured to the carriage waiting outside. “Let us get a move on, Master Riddhe. We don’t have all day.”