Chapter 17

Late at night on the day the Saintess and Prince William left to subjugate the magical beasts, an outrageous report was brought to Aldridge’s private quarters.

Every one of the thieves captured two nights earlier had been murdered inside the dungeon.

Their interrogation had been entrusted to Kennard Adkins, Commander of the Second Knight Order and also Deputy Knight Commander.

However, since Beaton, the Knight Commander, was away accompanying Prince William, Adkins had apparently been overwhelmed with work and had barely managed to conduct any questioning. Faced with such a blunder on top of that, Aldridge felt like clutching his head in frustration.

More importantly, with no one currently permitted to leave the castle, the culprit had to still be somewhere inside. Aldridge immediately ordered additional guards posted around the queen’s chambers, then headed for his office so that the knights already searching the castle could contact him at any moment.

As he sat in the chair he had used for many years, his eyes naturally fell upon the small frame resting on his desk. It had been a birthday gift from Jay, then the crown prince, when Aldridge was still in his teens.

‘You see, this frame contains someone incredibly…’

For the briefest moment, the nostalgic voice of Jay from before he was even old enough to be called a young man returned to him, but—

“Chancellor, I have something to report!”

The Deputy Knight Commander’s voice, accompanied by a knock, shattered the memory.

“Enter.”

“Yes, sir. Excuse me. The thing is…”

The new report Adkins brought was that the corpse of a man believed to be the culprit had been pulled from the moat.

Apparently, a guard stationed atop the castle wall had heard something resembling an argument, followed by the sound of something large falling into the water. Upon investigating, he discovered a man’s corpse floating in the moat.

Several men had somehow managed to haul the body up from the inner side of the moat, and they found a knife in the dead man’s clothes that appeared to have been used to murder the prisoners. On top of that, there was what looked like an axe wound across his abdomen.

“We believe the culprit attempted to escape the castle, was discovered by the Saintess’s armored soldiers, fought with them, and was then thrown into the moat…”

The body had apparently already been taken to the holding room beside the underground dungeon.

“Spare me the speculation. Summon a physician immediately to examine the body. I am going there as well.”

As he stood, Aldridge grabbed the document folder resting on his desk. Inside were the two drawings Princess Kana had entrusted to him the day before her departure.

(I have a feeling these will be needed…)

“And continue searching the castle. There is no guarantee the corpse you found belongs to the culprit!”

“Yes, sir! Immediately!”

Accompanied by two soldiers assigned to him as a precaution, Aldridge headed toward the holding room. Along the way they passed several guards, and Aldridge recognized one of them.

(That man…)

The scene in which he had seen him before surfaced in Aldridge’s mind, and at the same moment, something clicked.

“Do you know the name of the soldier we just passed?”

Once they had put some distance between themselves and the man, Aldridge asked one of his escorts.

“Ah, yes. The one with the beard, right? That’s Garritson from our Third Platoon. This week’s night duty belongs to the Third Platoon. All our members should currently be assigned to searching the castle.”

Castle security was handled in rotation by three platoons. Each worked six consecutive day shifts followed by six consecutive night shifts, for twelve straight days, before receiving one week off. Since the Saintess Summoning had taken place during the daytime at the end of the previous week, the guards on duty had indeed been the Third Platoon.

(But when exactly…? Ah, of course. That was when!)

Aldridge opened the folder to confirm his thought, and understanding dawned. At the same time, a bitter smile escaped him.

(To think I fell for something so simple.)

The man on the slab in the holding room had been stripped of everything he had worn. One look at the dead man’s face gave Aldridge confidence that his hypothesis was correct.

He removed the two drawings from the folder. Both depicted bearded men, and at first glance they appeared to be two portraits of the same person. However, on closer inspection, one of the men had a small birthmark on his left eyelid.

The corpse before him bore an identically shaped mark in precisely the same place. The differences were that this man had no beard, and his hair was somewhat shorter.

(Without the beard, his face is remarkably ordinary. That must be why they used the beard and that. Conversely, if someone has both the beard and that, everyone assumes he is this man.)

The physician summoned for the examination arrived quickly. It was Alder, a doctor who normally worked in the barracks infirmary and was knowledgeable about blades and wounds. After inspecting the wound across the abdomen, he immediately declared,

“This was indeed caused by an axe.”

“What kind of axe?”

“What kind…? An ordinary one. A double-edged axe of the sort used for chopping wood…”

Aldridge thought, Just as I suspected, but said nothing of it. Instead, he told the physician what he knew.

“The Saintess’s armored soldier carries a single-edged axe.”

He had seen it from close range, so there was no possibility of mistake.

“What? But this wound…”

“Examine it again carefully.”

With that, Aldridge suggested the possibility that the injury had been fabricated.

“And bring me the soldier who claims to have heard the splash. I want to question him.”

Aldridge gave the order to one of the soldiers who had accompanied him. Once they left, he turned to the physician, who was now using instruments to inspect deeper inside the wound.

“Sorry to trouble you, but once you finish that, take a look at this. Do you think it is possible this man had disguised himself to look like this?”

He showed the physician the drawings as he asked. He wanted to eliminate the possibility that his current conclusion was merely his own assumption. The physician glanced at the pictures, stopped probing the wound, and stared closely at the corpse’s face.

“A disguise? Yes… with a wig and a false beard… No, wait. Judging by the cut ends of his hair, it may have been trimmed recently. And there are odd patches around his face where the beard seems to have been incompletely shaved…”

“So is it possible his hair was cut and beard shaved shortly before his death—or afterward?”

“Yes, that is certainly possible.”

Having said that, the physician returned his attention to the wound.

“Ah. Your deduction was correct, Chancellor. He was first stabbed with a sword, then struck with an axe over the same wound. The axe wound is deep, which makes it difficult to tell, but the culprit probably wanted to make it look as though the Saintess’s armored soldier had done it. Incidentally, I believe this knife is indeed the weapon used to kill the prisoners.”

The physician answered while washing his hands in the basin provided in the room. At that moment, the soldiers from earlier returned. They had brought the bearded guard with them, so Aldridge hurriedly turned both drawings face down.

(It is him after all.)

The physician looked surprised for an instant when he saw the man’s bearded face, but said nothing and began writing his examination report at a desk in the corner of the room. Still, it was obvious that the man had caught his attention, because he was listening closely to their conversation.

“State your unit and name.”

“Third Platoon, Darren Garritson.”

“I have several questions. This will not take long.”

Aldridge then began asking questions while pretending this was merely a routine inquiry.

“Garritson. What time did you begin patrolling the walls tonight?”

“At the nine o’clock shift change, as regulations require.”

“And what time did you hear the voices that sounded like an argument? What did they say?”

“Around midnight, I think. I couldn’t make out the words. I only heard loud voices.”

“Understood. And afterward, you heard something fall into the water.”

“Yes.”

Aldridge paused there, turned his gaze toward the soldiers who had brought Garritson, and asked,

“Did anyone besides him hear the voices or the splash?”

“Possibly, but so far no one else has come forward.”

“So both the argument and the splash are supported only by this man’s testimony.”

When they confirmed that was correct, Aldridge nodded.

“Then seize him immediately!”

Everyone present was stunned by the order, but Garritson himself was the most shocked of all. Even so, the soldiers reacted swiftly, and within moments Garritson’s hands had been tied behind his back.

“Ch-Chancellor, why am I…?”

“This corpse has been tampered with in several ways. I do not believe the Saintess’s armored soldier killed him. In that case, it is only natural that the person who discovered the body becomes the prime suspect.”

There were, of course, numerous other reasons, but Aldridge saw no need to explain them to him.

(This man should not yet realize that we have uncovered their two-men-playing-one-role scheme.)

Two men playing one role. Aldridge’s hypothesis was that Garritson and the dead man had jointly played the part of a single soldier named 【Garritson】. Whether someone else had ordered them to do so would have to be investigated later, but this explained how the intruders had managed to enter the rooms of the Second Prince and the royal consort during the Summoning Ceremony.

That day, soldiers had been sent out of the room twice on the orders of His Majesty and the Saintess. Aldridge remembered that on both occasions, the bearded soldier standing near the king had been chosen for the task. That soldier had been Garritson.

Aldridge believed that each time the man left the room, he swapped places with his counterpart waiting outside, and the other man then guided the thieves inside.

(The dead man and this one probably switched places when the soldier was sent to fetch the queen and royal consort. I paid no attention to the face of a guard assigned a simple errand, but I vaguely remember that beard and those noisy footsteps. In other words, as long as they had the beard and made the same loud footsteps, nobody would notice the substitution. And they did not need to know that the two women were dead in order to commit the theft. They only needed to know they would not be returning for some time.)

Once understood, the scheme was infuriating precisely because it was so simple.

“Take him straight to the dungeon. And tell Deputy Commander Adkins to come here immediately!”

(I really am exhausted…)

The sky had already begun to pale, and sunrise would not be far off. As Aldridge walked back toward his office, he looked up at the gradually brightening sky.

Darren Garritson, the man arrested earlier on suspicion of 【murdering the man who murdered the prisoners】, had changed his attitude the moment he was thrown into the dungeon. He leaned back arrogantly, grinned at every question, and began sneering that they would soon regret what they had done. A short while ago, the reason for his confidence had become clear.

“We found this among his personal belongings.”

Deputy Commander Adkins, who had gone to the barracks to search Garritson’s possessions, presented a silver brooch with a frightened expression.

On its silver base, white lilies and a crossed shield and sword had been rendered in enamel, making the royal crest immediately recognizable. However, the rose depicted upon the shield was not a red rose with a high-centered bloom, but instead a single-petaled vermilion rose.

Aldridge recognized it. When he had inherited the position of chancellor, one of the important matters passed down to him had concerned that particular brooch.

(So this is his trump card. No wonder he is acting so boldly. Ordinarily, only members of the royal family are permitted to wear the royal crest. However, the matter of this particular brooch was settled more than thirty years ago, and the law was even amended accordingly. Of course, a man raised as an ordinary citizen would have no way of knowing that.)

“Hmph. It seems they have taken us for fools.”

“Your Excellency… if this is genuine, then that ma— that gentleman is… What are we supposed to do…?”

Aldridge gave the Deputy Commander an exasperated look. The man had clearly been completely intimidated by the existence of the brooch.

(He does not know either? He is the second son of a count’s family, for heaven’s sake…)

Still, Aldridge reconsidered and thought perhaps it could not be helped. The more familiar something was in daily life, the less likely people were to remember its precise details.

“Let us leave him alone for a day or two without questioning him. Give him the same food as the other prisoners—one meal a day will suffice. During that time, no one is to speak to him whatsoever. And… yes. Make your attitude toward him as insolent as possible.”

“Are you certain, sir?”

“I am. Do exactly as I said. While you’re at it, investigate his background again. Find out who recommended him as well.”

“Yes, sir!”

(He is probably expecting us to rush to the dungeon in a panic the moment we discover the brooch, so first I shall thoroughly disappoint that expectation. Afterward… what shall I do with him? Well, there is plenty of time. For now, I need some sleep.)

After shaking his head to clear the heaviness caused by working while sleep-deprived, Aldridge headed toward the cot in the room adjoining his office. Before leaving, however, he picked up the framed object from his desk and took it with him.

(I cannot push myself the way I used to. So this is what it means to grow old…)

He laughed self-deprecatingly, placed the frame on the bedside table, and lay down. Sleep claimed him almost instantly, but just before Aldridge lost consciousness, the scene from the day he had received that frame returned once more to his mind.

‘You see, this frame contains an extraordinarily capable person. Someone astonishingly intelligent, always able to make calm decisions, and who cares deeply about this kingdom. A truly wonderful person.’

Wondering who could possibly be depicted inside, Aldridge had looked at the frame Jay handed him—only to discover that it contained no painting at all, but a single mirror. The moment he saw his own reflection, he understood that all of those words of praise had been directed at him, and his face turned bright red as he fell completely silent.

‘Ren, you really ought to have more confidence in yourself.’

Remembering the nostalgic voice of the clever young girl smiling beside Jay, Aldridge drifted into sleep…

After roughly two hours of sleep, Aldridge awoke and once again looked toward the frame, but his mind still felt caught in the dream he had been having moments earlier.

(To think I would dream of that. I sealed that away long ago. Just how incapable of letting go am I…?)

It had been nothing more than a dream of his younger self having an insignificant little debate with that intelligent girl. Yet to Aldridge, it felt as though his own shameful desires had crawled up through a crack in the heavy lid he had placed over them.

He looked at the frame again. Reflected within it was a balding middle-aged man.

(No one would ever imagine that a man like this is still clinging to the feelings of his first love…)

He closed his eyes and pictured the woman he loved more dearly than anyone else in the world. Then, once again, he placed a heavy lid over those feelings and put the mask of the chancellor back on.

The hurried footsteps approaching from afar convinced him that it was time to resume work.

“Brent Aldridge, you are a calm and capable chancellor. You are nothing else. Become that completely.”

He muttered the words toward the frame, picked it up, and headed back into his office.