Chapter 81

Tap. Tap.

Every time the regular noise echoed through the domestic intelligence office, the junior officers seated at the desks arranged in two rows would hold their breath and observe their superior's expression. The captain had been tapping the same document with his fountain pen for an hour, the cap still unopened.

Drip.

The suffocating noise finally ceased when raindrops began to tap the glass behind him.

Leon turned his gaze from his desk and looked back. The irritable sunlight of early summer, which had been piercing through the blinds, was gone. Outside, everything was gray.

It was a color as unsettling as the recent Western Command.

A major audit had begun even before the new commander's official inauguration. It had become routine for officers to be summoned to the internal affairs department for various reasons. Campbell, who had quietly disappeared upon arrival and hadn't returned for an hour, was undoubtedly going through the same rite of passage.

Tap. Tap.

The office was once again enveloped in the suffocating noise.

Work was not progressing.

The reason Campbell was summoned was probably nothing serious. The dust of the domestic intelligence department wasn't swept under the carpet but discarded. There would be no dust to fall even if they searched.

So the reason work wasn't progressing wasn't due to the audit.

Turquoise.

Since last night, after meeting Commander Davenport, Leon's mind had been filled with turquoise.

Even when Campbell quietly returned, Leon was still lost in the same thoughts.

"Captain."

Just as he was about to call out, Campbell approached and discreetly requested a private conversation. The fact that he had turned up the radio, which had been placed on top of the document cabinet, was already suspicious. Leon put aside his own matters and listened carefully.

"A woman?"

Leon, who had moved to the window, frowned at the unexpected report. The internal affairs department wasn't looking for dust in the domestic intelligence department but in Leon, personally.

"They are investigating a rumor that a female rebel is being detained in the interrogation room without being reported to the military. They seemed to have no idea about her identity."

"That's a relief."

The internal affairs department wouldn't know that the woman detained in Leon's interrogation room was actually a spy who had infiltrated under his command.

"Of course, I denied it as baseless slander."

"Good job."

Campbell's lips curled up slightly and then fell. Thanks to the captain's quirks, denying it was quite easy. Captain Winston had never interrogated a woman and had no known romantic history with any.

Denying it was easy, but shaking off the uneasy feeling was not. Campbell recalled the face of the inspector, who had sat at the end of the long table, exuding a high-pressure atmosphere.

"The problem is that the inspector investigating this case is... "

Even with the loud trumpet music drowning out their conversation, Campbell whispered.

'Royal family?'

The inspector assigned to Leon's case was not from the internal affairs department of the Western Command but from the royal direct inspection department.

Leon twisted his lips into a smile.

Calling his closest confidant, Campbell, was something that would only happen when there was enough evidence to shift from an internal investigation to an official investigation. Yet, the inspector knew almost nothing.

In other words, he had called Campbell hoping the matter would reach Leon's ears.

"The guest seems quite anxious."

The king had exerted pressure. The purpose was clear: the Sinclair investigation. It meant the king wanted the investigation report tailored to his liking.

To already be applying pressure less than a week after receiving the ominous order made the stench even more pungent.

Leon's words made Campbell's face pale as he understood the purpose of the investigation.

"Campbell."

"Yes."

"Where do you think it might have leaked from?"

In the basement of Captain Leon Winston's mansion, a female rebel was detained. It wasn't baseless slander.

Leon considered who might have written to the internal affairs department or the inspection department.

"We recently changed the duty soldiers."

Was it a mistake to replace the personnel due to the woman's provocations?

"I will investigate thoroughly and discreetly. However, with all due respect... "

Campbell lowered his voice even further, and Leon looked at him intently, urging him to continue.

"Isn't it dangerous to keep the 'ghost of the interrogation room' as is?"

Campbell finally voiced the advice he had been holding back for months. Captain Winston had never made a wrong decision, so there was no need to advise him. But this woman was different.

He wasn't sure if this was the wrong thing to do, but it was definitely dangerous. He was particularly worried about whether the captain, who made irrational judgments in matters involving the 'ghost of the interrogation room,' could handle the aftermath.

"What if we report that she was captured elsewhere? That way, there would be no grounds for scrutiny from above, and the matter could be buried."

"What if she testifies that she worked as my maid?"

"There's a way to hand her over in a state where she can't testify..."

Campbell immediately regretted his words and closed his mouth. Captain Winston was looking at him with the same eyes he had when he put a rope around a prisoner's neck.

"I misspoke. I apologize, Captain."

The captain smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling, but the look in his eyes remained unchanged.

"Campbell."

A hand as large as his unusual build gripped Campbell's shoulder. Tense, Campbell bowed his head even lower, and the captain, tilting his head at him, asked in a sinister voice.

"You don't think I'm hiding a spy under my command to avoid becoming the next former commander, do you?"

"...No."

"You're smart, after all."

If you're smart, why did you say something so foolish? The captain patted Campbell's shoulder encouragingly and added.

"You're right. I'm keeping her for personal reasons."

A small, recent fingernail mark on the inside of his wrist, where it rested on the windowsill, supported his words.

"So stop interfering and make it clear who you're loyal to: the military or the Winston family."

"Of course, the Winston family."

Campbell answered immediately after the captain's stern warning. He had been sent by the Campbell family to assist Captain Winston.

"I never meant to suggest loyalty to the military. I was only concerned about the impact the inspection department's investigation might have on the Winston family. I apologize."

"Thank you, but stop worrying."

The captain lowered the slats of the blinds, blocking his view, and muttered.

"I'll find a dog to chase the inspector away soon."

His gaze followed a luxury sedan slowly entering the command's entrance. It was the new commander's car.

"Campbell, you have a task."

"Yes, I'll take care of it."

To have something more urgent than the king's order was quite unexpected.

'Commander Davenport?'

Campbell returned to his seat after receiving the instructions. The music from the radio stopped, and the office became bustling with the noise of the officers working.

Footsteps approached Leon's desk. A major was waiting for his signature, but Leon didn't take his eyes off the gloomy view outside.

The car door opened, and an elderly man stepped out under the umbrella held by his aide. The commander's hair, visible under his cap, was peppered with gray but was clearly chestnut.

Leon narrowed his eyes. The sunlight was glaring.

On a sunny summer day, a fresh-scented orange girl with lustrous chestnut hair pouted her lips.

My lovely Daisy.

"I wish I had blonde hair. Everyone in my family is blonde, but I have brown hair."

Ah, my poor Daisy.

The definition of family must be clear.

* * *

The morning sunlight that had flooded the office gradually tilted and stretched to the corner of the desk drawer.

Grace extended her hand out of the shade and caressed the edge of the sunlight. The wool carpet, sun-dried and fluffy, felt soft under her fingertips.

Her hand was dyed a color different from the bleak yellow of the light bulb. The dry, warm heat seeped into her skin, and Grace closed her eyes.

This is what sunlight feels like.

Grace, who had been enjoying the warmth of the sunlight for the first time in a long while, suddenly opened her eyes. A different warmth was felt near her right ear.

Long fingers pushed back the hair that had fallen as she bowed her head, tucking it behind her ear. Dry fingertips leisurely traced the back of her ear, making her feel as if she would melt from the heat, hotter than the sunlight.

Grace shivered and slowly raised her gaze. The man was looking down at her with the eyes of someone watching a puppy play on the carpet.

He was dressed casually in a white shirt and black tie, having taken off his jacket.

It was warm. She didn't know if it was unusually warm. It was the first time she had been outside since being confined again. She didn't even know how many days had passed.