Chapter 19
Kartak stared down at Argana, his face filled with surprise.
“What? How did you know that?”
Argana coughed theatrically, then turned back to him with a grin she could barely suppress.
“Really? I only had suspicions.”
“Suspicions? What kind of suspicions?”
Argana explained about Homuja’s jade bracelet and the fine leather shoes. Kartak listened intently, nodding from time to time with a grave expression.
“…Shoes like that can only be worn freely by someone at least of Jaein status.”
Though lower in rank than a royal consort (bi), a Jaein still held the official position of a concubine.
“Right now the inner palace only has the Empress and consorts, but if Father were the sort of man who lost himself in women, then concubines, beauties, and Jaein would have been countless. If that had been the case, such things would have stood out even more.”
“So, when you saw that Homuja had possessions far beyond her station, you thought she must be connected to Yoshimut?”
“It wasn’t just that she owned expensive things. She hid the bracelet, but not the shoes. And think about it—if she had somehow gotten hold of such precious items, wouldn’t she save them to wear only when visiting her hometown or on special occasions? Don’t you agree?”
Jewelry could be tucked away and worn daily if one chose, but shoes were different.
Serving others—especially someone as fickle as Lady Turegen—meant that shoes naturally wore out quickly.
“But Homuja wore hers casually, as if it were nothing. She didn’t look worried at all about someone finding out.”
“So in her mind, those luxury goods weren’t anything out of the ordinary.”
“Exactly. No matter how close she was to Lady Turegen, no lady-in-waiting could live so comfortably just on wages. Impossible.”
When Argana finished, Kartak laced his fingers behind his neck and tilted his head back with a groan.
“Ah—honestly. You’re impossible. I was supposed to investigate this, but you figured it all out before I even started?”
“Why are you so discouraged? You’re ridiculous.”
Of course, it was because he wanted to be of help. Kartak cast her a sidelong look, half resentful, as if she were being insufferable.
This intelligent, talented princess would probably never notice his feelings even if she lived another lifetime.
Not that I’d ever give up because of that…
Just then, Argana caught his arm and gave it a playful shake.
“What’s wrong? Are you really that deflated? So you’re not going to tell me anything?”
Kartak couldn’t take his eyes off her golden gaze, sparkling like clear flames. It was a clean, innocent look—paired with a childish expression she rarely showed to anyone else.
“Wihwi, do you realize how unfair you are?”
“What? What are you talking about all of a sudden?”
“…Never mind. Anyway, your suspicions were right. I discreetly questioned the maids and attendants working in Lady Turegen’s palace. They said that from a certain point on, Homuja’s room started filling up with luxury goods.”
“They’ve been inside her room?”
“Homuja was a senior maid. She would order those below her rank to clean her quarters. She wasn’t supposed to, but since they were practically her master’s hands and feet, no one dared resist.”
It was well known that Homuja was vicious and spiteful toward those weaker than herself. People often whispered that she was “like master, like servant.” Kartak’s account was more than believable.
“So the maids learned about it while cleaning? They actually saw jewelry?”
“Apparently so, though not often. She tried to hide it. But… you know the saying—put something foul in a drawer, and no matter how much perfume or cloth you use, the stench will seep out. It’s the same with people.”
No matter how much one tried to disguise it with appearance, attitude, or words, a corrupt nature and lies could never be hidden.
“But how did you find the connection to Yoshimut?”
“That part was surprisingly easy. Homuja was seen meeting Yoshimut’s attendant several times. They even whispered together openly inside Lady Turegen’s palace. Who knows if it was foolishness or overconfidence.”
“Likely both.”
The picture in their minds was clear.
Yoshimut would send his attendant to slip money to Homuja, asking her to sneak items out of the inner palace storerooms that wouldn’t immediately be missed. Homuja, under the guise of running errands for Lady Turegen, would enter the storeroom, pilfer goods, and pass them along to Yoshimut’s servant.
And perhaps pocket a little extra for herself along the way.
And after that? The conclusion was obvious.
Royal property, whatever its purpose or form, could never be bought or sold privately. If caught, not only the thief but everyone involved in the trade would be executed.
So the goods must have passed through several hands, until the source was blurred enough to be ignored…
By the time the imperial treasures changed hands, they would be traded for silver bars far beneath their true value. But repeated often enough, it would be more than enough to fuel gambling debts.
Argana and Kartak visited the inner palace storeroom to examine the records of those who had entered.
Homuja’s name appeared so frequently that there was no need to search closely.
As they inspected the records, the low-ranking official in charge of the storeroom wiped cold sweat from his forehead with his sleeve over and over. When the princess herself suddenly arrived demanding the logs, he had no idea what was going on—only that his throat felt parched with fear.
“Kartak, what do you think? Do the financial records match these?”
“Not perfectly. But for the most part…”
His voice trailed off, and he gave a quiet nod.
“That’s only natural,” Argana said. “Small trinkets can be hidden among other things or in one’s sleeves and slipped out unnoticed.”
Just like rats. Argana felt fresh waves of disgust toward both Yoshimut and Homuja.
“To catch Yoshimut, we’ll need to make this public. Handling it between us won’t mean anything—”
“Argana?”
The sudden voice startled her. She spun around—
and in doing so, stomped down hard on Kartak’s foot.
“Ugh…”
“…Sorry.”
She whispered quickly, then looked up at the man before her and smiled brightly.
“Brother Ayur.”
“What are the two of you doing here?”
Ayur looked at them both, smiling. With his refined, neat features, he resembled the image of a clear, flowing river.
“Ah, I thought I’d once seen my mother’s earrings here in the storeroom. I came to look for them, and then… well, I started browsing idly through other things.”
The lie slipped out effortlessly. Even so, telling such an obvious lie to Ayur of all people made her feel a twinge of guilt.
“Would something your mother used really be kept in a place like this?”
“Well… now that you mention it, probably not.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
Behind her back, Argana quietly closed the logbook.
“And you, Brother—what brings you here?”
“Oh, I’m on my way to see Mother. This is the shortcut.”
“Then come with us. I’m headed that way too. I was going to spar with Kartak afterward.”
Ayur glanced at Kartak and laughed.
“Go easy on him. What if he collapses?”
Then, looking at Kartak, he added:
“And if she gets too harsh, you should refuse, you know.”
Kartak returned his smile with perfect politeness.
“Thank you for your concern, Your Highness. Her Highness the Princess is always considerate of my inexperience.”
“Is that so?”
The warmth slipped quietly from Ayur’s tone. Unless it was someone or something he truly valued, his manner often became indifferent and condescending.
Well, that’s one of Brother’s bad habits.
As Kartak turned away, Argana spoke up.
“By the way, Brother, I visited Lady Sorkate this morning.”
“How is she faring?”
“Thankfully, she’s well. We spoke of Tyr, and she admitted she rarely praises him out of fear that Tyr Salan might grow arrogant.”
