Chapter 67
Returning to the temporary residence, Pierre leaned back on the sofa, pressing his fingers against his eyes in exhaustion.
Though he must’ve been tired from the long journey, he first laid Cecilia to rest in her room before tending to himself.
Having been on edge in many ways, fatigue washed over him only once he was finally alone.
The conversation with the Hakan tribe concluding just as he had hoped was a major success. Even while receiving Cecilia’s care at the Grand Duke’s estate, he had been steadily preparing for that dialogue.
The liberation of the Hakan tribe’s slaves was the key condition in winning their favor.
His neck stiffened from the sleepless nights spent trying to meet deadlines. Normally, he wouldn’t have felt much different regardless of how the matter ended.
But this time was different. Maybe it was because of Cecilia—because she worried for him, supported him, and cheered him on. It made him want to succeed for once.
“Damn it, I already miss her.”
Even though he’d just put her to bed, he found himself missing her clear, bright face. Feeling a strange stiffness in his thigh, Pierre shifted slightly, shaking off the dark emotions rising within him.
The conversation with the Hakan chieftain had set his next course of action. As expected, what he truly desired wasn’t power or authority—it was to be by the side of the one he loved.
For that, he needed to stop Richmond’s rebellion and bring down the emperor—even if it meant bloodshed. Just days ago, these thoughts had tangled his mind with anxiety, but now they seemed almost simple.
‘So the most important thing is still to gather more evidence of Richmond’s treason.’
The more thorough Richmond became in preparing for rebellion, the more evidence would naturally be left behind.
All Pierre had to do was follow him closely, strike when he least expected it. But there was still something that didn’t sit right with him.
After some thought, Pierre pulled out a bundle of papers. Flipping past a few layers meant to conceal the contents, he reached a page detailing someone’s background.
He hadn’t been able to examine it earlier because Cecilia and the person in question had been with him in the carriage. It was Leo Nivenis’s identification document.
There were a few things Pierre had asked Honik to look into.
He scanned the content line by line. On the surface, there was nothing unusual, except for one glaring omission: there was no record of Leo’s life from ten years ago.
That could only mean one thing—
It was a fabricated identity.
Sometimes nobles created fake identities for long-serving servants in their estates. That part wasn’t too surprising.
But one thing set Leo apart—he was a Hakan.
Normally, if a Hakan had a newly made identity, it meant they had previously been a slave and served someone.
That meant someone had purchased Leo as a slave before he came to be with the Nivenis family—and no one seemed to know about it.
Usually, once someone enslaved a Hakan, they never let them go until death or escape. Which meant… this one must’ve escaped.
Pierre didn’t like the idea of someone with such an uncertain past being around Cecilia.
“Sigh…”
As he let out a deep breath, Honik knocked and entered.
“Your Grace, I believe you should come downstairs.”
Seeing Honik so tense, Pierre’s face hardened.
“What happened?”
Honik replied with a troubled expression.
“There’s been a disturbance in the cell where Zilgerk is being held.”
* * *
After returning to the residence, Zilgerk had been confined to a small solitary room.
There was no underground prison here, so they had repurposed a servant’s old room, sealing off the windows to make it a temporary cell.
Pierre headed there immediately. Outside the locked door stood two guards and Ian. Seeing Pierre, they straightened up.
“What’s going on?”
Ian began to explain, his face clouded.
“It seems someone may have made contact with Zilgerk.”
“What do you mean?”
“Someone gave conflicting orders to the guards—claiming to speak on your behalf—saying the shift change had moved up. The guards were confused and vacated their post. That’s when someone slipped inside. Zilgerk claims an assassin came to kill him, but there’s not a scratch on him, so it’s hard to believe.”
Ian looked flustered, unable to hide his disappointment that they’d lost track of the intruder despite Zilgerk being neither dead nor escaped. Pierre exhaled sharply and said,
“I’ll speak with him. Stand by.”
“Yes, sir.”
Pierre entered the room. Zilgerk, who had been crouched in a corner, startled at the sound and looked up. Recognizing Pierre, his eyes widened and he rushed toward him.
“Y-Your Grace! Please hear me out!”
Sweating profusely in panic, Zilgerk clung to Pierre’s leg. Pierre frowned in disgust.
“Sit down. Before I carry out your sentence immediately.”
At the cold warning, Zilgerk gulped and quickly backed away, sitting on the floor.
Pierre looked down at him with cold eyes and began.
“Talk. Were you arranging an escape? Like a rat?”
“No! It was an assassin! They came to kill me…!”
“An assassin? Who sent them?”
“…!”
“Judging by that face, you’ve got a name in mind.”
Pierre’s words made Zilgerk freeze. The name Baldir Richmond lingered on his tongue, but he couldn’t speak it.
If he revealed Richmond had sent an assassin, all the torture he had endured while keeping his mouth shut would’ve been for nothing.
But if he said nothing, he would die just as Richmond intended—his information stolen, his life discarded.
‘…The information he wants?’
As Zilgerk wrestled with the decision, his expression changed. Pierre, watching his silence, narrowed his eyes.
“Still keeping your mouth shut, I see.”
Pierre knew Zilgerk was more resilient than he looked. Deciding not to waste any more time, he turned to leave—until Zilgerk suddenly spoke.
“Cecilia Nivenis.”
At the mention of her name, Pierre froze in place. His expression turned vicious as he whipped around.
He would make Zilgerk regret ever dragging her name into something so filthy.
But Zilgerk, now with a different expression than before, looked him in the eye and continued.
“The Hakan knight who follows her. Do you know who he really is?”
“…….”
“You must’ve found nothing when you looked into his past.”
Pierre asked quietly, “Just the facts.”
Zilgerk’s lips curled slightly.
“He’s a former slave.”
Pierre didn’t react much—he had suspected as much. But Zilgerk kept going.
“And I know who his master was.”
“…If you’re just saying this to stall, you’ll regret it.”
“Not at all. I saw him decades ago at someone’s estate.”
“And who was it?”
Pierre’s gaze sharpened as Zilgerk’s pupils dilated.
“I can’t tell you right now.”
“So you want to die?”
“Quite the opposite. I don’t want to die. If I tell you now, I’ll be of no more use. I have a condition.”
Pierre found Zilgerk’s arrogant tone grating, but something about the way he spoke didn’t sound like a lie.
If they were to uncover Leo’s true identity, they needed his testimony.
So Pierre grudgingly asked,
“Speak.”
With permission granted, Zilgerk couldn’t contain his excitement.
“The assassin will come back. They’ll try to kill me again. Protect me. If I’m fully guaranteed safety, then I’ll talk.”
* * *
Meanwhile, someone was listening to the conversation through the sealed cracks of the window.
Though cloaked in a deep robe, the glowing red eyes in the darkness revealed it was Leo.
After meeting the Hakan tribe, Leo had only then noticed that Zilgerk had been secretly watching him.
Uneasy, he had come to check the prison—and heard something unexpected.
“He knows about my past?”
Leo repeated the words to himself, retreating into the shadows.
