CHAPTER 96……………………….
Yankeller felt a surge of anger rise so violently that it almost disrupted his breathing.
“Lately, I’ve heard you’ve been going out quite often. You’re not still frequenting the magic tool shop, are you?”
It was true that he had been going out often, but not to the magic tool shop.
Maybe if he told the truth, the High Priest would lose interest.
“The import of mana stones has dropped sharply recently. So even if I want to make magic tools, I don’t have the materials.”
“Well, that’s good news to hear. Since it’s come to that, why not take this opportunity to change your hobby?”
A hobby?
The fact that the High Priest thought of crafting magic tools as a hobby left Yankeller speechless.
“Wouldn’t it be better to become an Inquisitor rather than waste your time on useless magic?”
They were surrounded by other priests, so Yankeller answered politely, but he had no intention whatsoever of becoming an Inquisitor.
“I…”
“Yann, it’s not often that one gets the chance to conduct a heresy trial. This is a golden opportunity for you.”
The High Priest didn’t care whether the so-called Saint of Edet was actually invoking the name of Lord Anish or not.
Even before the investigation began, she was already deemed a heretic.
“Is there really any need to investigate?”
“No, my boy. Don’t investigate—pretend to investigate. You’re new to this, so listen carefully. The crowd loves a passionate performance.”
The High Priest’s tone was as tender as that of a kind father, which only made Yankeller feel sick.
“You should show everyone how devoted you are to the temple.”
“I believe I’ve been running the temple well so far. I’ve met the nobles’ ridiculous demands, too. Isn’t that enough?”
“No. That’s expected of you. Working hard where no one can see doesn’t count. Especially for someone as quiet as you—you need a dramatic strike.”
The High Priest placed a firm hand on Yankeller’s shoulder.
“Bring me the Saint of Edet. Behead the false one before the temple gates and display your might. Then everyone will say you have the makings of the next High Priest.”
“The Viscount of Kestarican, you say?”
“Yes. Lady Everett asked me to look into him, so I gathered some information. I knew he’d had a hard life, but he turned out to be even more pitiful than I thought.”
They were gathered at Alfred’s mansion for dinner when the topic of the Viscount came up.
“I’ve heard he’s quite wealthy and lives with his only daughter.”
“That’s right. His daughter was frail, and the Viscount suffered greatly over her health… but she didn’t die of illness. It was something else.”
“Something else?”
“A girl named Dora, wasn’t it? Everyone thought she’d die from her illness—but she was murdered.”
Kyle’s eyes widened with interest.
“The killer?”
“It was her maid. The Viscount himself begged to carry out the execution—he personally beheaded her.”
“I see… if the daughter he cherished all his life was murdered by her maid, I can understand that sentiment.”
Lady Charlotte glanced at Everett.
“It was Lady Naz who predicted that tragedy beforehand, wasn’t it? That’s how she first became famous.”
While Lady Charlotte looked proud, Everett’s face was dark.
“The Viscount is in danger now.”
Everett explained about the fake Viscountess who had visited her glass conservatory and requested a curse.
“The Viscount of Kestarican is rich, but he’s also known to be extremely stingy. Yet recently, he’s sold off his mansion and several estates.”
Lady Charlotte placed a copy of the transaction records on the table.
“Maybe he just needed the money?”
“Absolutely not. He never married because he couldn’t bear to part with his wealth. But suddenly selling off so much, and below market price? It’s suspicious.”
“Indeed. For a mansion that size, the price is absurdly low. Looks like he’s desperate for cash.”
“The one who sold the properties was his son-in-law—a man named Chad. And the woman who came to see me was his mistress.”
“Ah…”
Kyle nodded.
“The woman is now living in the mansion as a servant, supposedly taking care of the Viscount.”
Alfred sighed deeply.
“The Viscount was a stern but upright man, not one for socializing. How could he end up surrounded by such filth?”
“Could it be that the son-in-law sold the property to fund an elopement with his mistress?”
At Kyle’s question, Everett shook her head.
“If only it were something as simple as that—it would almost be a happy ending.”
“Then what?”
Lady Charlotte smiled knowingly.
“The money from the sale went to someone completely unexpected—a Baron Akott.”
“Akott? You mean that snake who clings to Duke Baccard like a leech?”
Alfred’s face twisted.
“Exactly. Wherever Duke Baccard is, Baron Akott is never far behind.”
Kyle stroked his chin, intrigued.
“Kyle, Akott’s not the kind to act on his own. This must be under Duke Baccard’s orders.”
They called Akott the duke’s retainer, but those who knew him better called him the parasitic baron.
He was the duke’s mouthpiece—his voice in the shadows.
Even nobles above his rank feared crossing him.
“Kyle,” Everett said quietly, “the maid who killed the Viscount’s daughter—you still believe she did it?”
Everett slowly shook her head.
“No, it wasn’t her. Eliza was just a foolish girl blinded by love—she desired what she could never have.”
“Then the most likely suspect is the man who married Lady Dora.”
“Yes. If anyone had looked just a bit deeper, they would’ve seen the maid wasn’t the real culprit. But the case ended quickly after her confession.”
If she were to meet Eliza now, in the same desperate situation—
Could she tell her that Chad was only using her?
Everett’s chest felt tight with frustration.
“Everett,” Kyle said gently, “even if you can foresee the future, you can’t solve everything.”
He sensed her turmoil and tried to comfort her.
“When that happened, it was right after you’d opened your tarot shop. Even if you’d told the truth back then, no one would have believed you.”
“That’s true. When I first heard about Lady Naz, it was mostly gossip about Eliza’s scandal.”
Lady Charlotte’s exaggerated expression lightened the heavy mood.
“I think we should help the Viscount before something terrible happens.”
“Everett, why do you think they want the Viscount dead?”
“Because of his immense fortune, of course.”
Alfred nodded in agreement.
“Everyone’s wondered who would inherit that enormous wealth someday.”
“I also think the quick closure of the old murder case was someone’s doing from above.”
The money from the sale of the Viscount’s mansion and lands had ended up in Baron Akott’s hands.
Everett murmured softly,
“All the clues are starting to point toward Duke Baccard.”
They all thought the same thing.
So the rumors were true—
Duke Baccard really was the true power behind Bartman.
The emperor was nothing but his puppet.
“I’ve met the Viscount before,” Alfred said. “Shall I go see him?”
“He’s been alone for a long time,” Everett replied. “And people have tormented him constantly. He doesn’t trust easily.”
“Then how do we warn him of the danger?”
“Perhaps, Kyle, you could meet him in person.”
The Viscount took walks every day along the path where he used to stroll with his daughter Dora.
It was a way to remember her—and to escape, if only briefly, from those who wished him harm.
Everett observed him for several days; no one seemed to be watching him during his walks.
She decided that would be the perfect time and place for Kyle to approach him.
“I should head back now,” Everett said, standing up.
Lady Charlotte caught Alfred’s arm.
“Kyle, I still have something to discuss with my brother… would you be so kind as to escort Lady Everett home?”
“What are you talking about, Charlotte? Did we have anything else to discuss?”
Alfred’s cluelessness made Charlotte grit her teeth.
“Brother, you said there was something we needed to talk about, remember?”
Desperately trying to give Kyle and Everett some time alone, Lady Charlotte pressed on.
Kyle’s lips curled slightly, amused by her transparent effort.
“Don’t worry about Everett, Lady Charlotte. Please, take your time.”
He looked fondly at Everett, who covered her mouth to hide a shy smile, and offered his arm.
“Shall we, my lady?”
In the carriage, Kyle told the coachman to go slowly.
Clop, clop.
The rhythmic sound of the hooves was oddly calming.
Facing each other, Everett gazed out the dark window, while Kyle couldn’t take his eyes off her.
Something about him feels… different.
Kyle’s green eyes no longer held the rebellious spark they once did—they had become deep and contemplative.
He seemed to have grown from a boy into a man almost overnight.
Everett couldn’t quite describe the change, but she felt it every time they met.
When she first sensed something had changed in him, she’d asked Arcana through the cards:
What’s Kyle’s current state?
As always, the Chariot appeared—followed by the Emperor.
She had thought it only natural.
After all, he had declared that he would become emperor someday.
Then Kyle, noticing her lost in thought, softly called her name.
