Chapter 137

“Chasseur, too, did not find anything, correct? Yet can one trust that man?Wehave witnessed withOurown eyes how he recklessly gambled with the life of another after making such a colossal mistake.”

“Though he made a single mistake, he is the most reliable source in that field. Moreover, he harbors a personal grudge against the Nightwings. For this matter alone, he is worth trusting.”

“But the pieces do not fit. There is certainly ‘cargo,’ and evidence shows it has moved, but there is no one to use it?”

The Emperor frowned coldly, recalling the last piece that simply would not align.

Something exists, he was sure of it, but what it is, he could not discern. If only he could find that one missing piece, he felt certain he could fully comprehend the larger picture they were attempting to construct.

“Your Majesty.”

Seeing the Emperor deep in thought, Victor felt a sharp pang of guilt. He believed his own incompetence was causing trouble for his sovereign. Hesitating for a moment, he suddenly recalled something Eugène had said and cautiously mentioned it to the Emperor.

“Say it.”

“I am not certain it will be of much help, but Baron Amieux offered some advice regarding this.”

“Baron Amieux?”

“Yes.”

“What did he say?”

“He mentioned Andelas’ razor. Even if the existence of the cargo is confirmed, he seemed skeptical that it could simply be supplies, suggesting that such an assumption would be too great a leap.”

Ebroin V almost flinched at the sudden mention of Eugène’s name. Given what had transpired only a few days prior, it was little wonder that his mind still lingered on it. He should not have allowed himself to be so emotional…

Now, the Emperor found himself quietly regretting whether he had been too forceful toward someone who had only just begun to open his heart to him, if only by the breadth of a mustard seed.

He was not the sort of man to dwell on what had already passed, unless it was truly significant, but of course, Eugène was an exception to that. Even after time had passed, the events with him continued to replay in his mind, and the Emperor found himself dwelling on the pointless agonies of whether it would have been better done this way, or perhaps even better that way.

But what was done could not be undone.

“Wewould like to review the ledger.”

It was, after all, Eugène’s suggestion. Ebroin V, not inclined to filter the advice of his subordinate, commanded Victor to bring the ledger he had obtained.

This ledger had been obtained from the gang of Clawhand Meville, who had been contracted to assassinate Eugène. In his defense, Ebroin V’s pursuit of them was not motivated purely by personal vengeance. He was also keenly interested in the mastermind behind the operation, the one who had employed the marksman as a scapegoat.

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‘Let’s make a deal.’

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She quickly realized that they had truly angered someone in power and had long since prepared for such a contingency.

‘Well? It may be true that you are a beauty, but do you possess anything else we would desire?’

Victor found her bold proposition intriguing, but he deliberately held back. From the beginning, showing too much interest would have been imprudent. Bargaining was the foundation of every transaction.

‘I have something you might want. It’s an item that the client who commissioned us tried to secretly steal. When I sneaked into his mansion to retrieve the mousetrap, that foolish man mistook me for an ordinary maid and had me steal his master’s property. I secretly hid it in a place where no one would find it.’

“What of Thierry Kiatek right now?”

Ebroin V asked in a casual tone while flipping through the ledger.

“He is being kept under guard in the basement here. No physical harm has been done, but since the adjoining room happens to be a torture chamber, he does not seem to be resting well.”

“Is he cooperating?”

“Thanks to Your Majesty’s firm handling, there was no need to work him over a second time. He is the sort who values his own life above anything else, so he obeys orders readily enough. The only regrettable point is that his contact is not directly with the monastery, but through Madame Schuabel. We sent a message in Thierry’s name, saying that he could not join her as promised because he had to use his men to recover the missing ledger. She was irritated, but in the end, she gave her reluctant consent.”

Madame Schuabel was the fixed intermediary for Grand Duchess Alienor. Judging from the circumstances, it seemed that every line connected to the Grand Duchess ultimately ran through her.

“She truly has not noticed anything?”

“I had her watched from a distance just in case, but she has shown no particular movement. Fortunately, things remain quiet.”

Victor was unaware that Thierry had committed so many idiotic blunders in the past that she had simply assumed this was yet another of them. Indeed, an incompetent ally is often more frightening than an enemy.

“That woman is not an ordinary one, but if it ended at that, then we may count ourselves lucky. Still, keep a close watch.”

“Shall I assign someone to stay near her?”

“No, that will not be necessary. She is too shrewd. If she senses something amiss, she will vanish into her den like a fox. Merely keep her under distant surveillance and submit regular reports. Record in detail whom she meets and where.”

As the Emperor issued his orders one after another, he leafed through the ledger. Though it was called a secret ledger, the contents were not especially impressive. The cipher was intricate, but once one understood the system, it could be read at a glance.

At a glance, the ledger had the appearance of a standard military supply list. It contained records of clothing items such as blankets, boots, shirts, and coats, along with personal belongings like rucksacks and stationery. Even this alone was better provisioning than what was granted to most elite troops, yet these men appeared to have been issued even such luxuries as firewood, meat, and coal in excessive quantities.

But fresh fowl?

Then he came upon something peculiar. If the word ‘fowl’ written there meant what the Emperor believed it did, then something was amiss.

It was not unusual for soldiers preparing for war to be supplied with meat, but the empire was not suffering from any food shortage. What reason could there be to import it directly from the kingdom? Moreover, since it had to cross the sea, it could not possibly have been transported in a fresh state while still raw unless they were shipping live birds.

The Emperor belatedly realised that some of the items in this seemingly innocuous list were quite suspicious, and he began to feel a faint sense of doubt. Straightening from his relaxed posture, he examined each line with a meticulous attitude. Details that had escaped his attention when deciphering the scattered fragments of cipher now stood out clearly once they were assembled into the form of a ledger.

“They have recorded ordinary firewood separately from poplar firewood.”

“Pardon? What do you mean by that?”

“There are two kinds of entries. Some are simply marked as firewood, while others specify types such as poplar, willow, red cedar… and so on. Do you not feel there is something odd about that?”

“They are all softwoods, mostly.”

“Precisely. But the more interesting part is here. The supply of coal. At that level, it is something that could easily be procured within the empire itself, yet it says they were hauling it all the way from the kingdom. And what is more, this was during the seventh and eighth months, when one can easily pass the season without a hearth. Does it make any sense that they were consuming coal at such a steady rate in the height of summer?”

What troubled him most, however, were the figures accompanying those three items. In those numbers, the Emperor discerned a ratio that was all too familiar, and his eyes glinted with an icy light. Victor, hearing the Emperor’s tone, turned deathly pale.

He had not thought to pay attention to details that small. Having stumbled upon this new revelation, Ebroin V ran his fingers across his lips with a thoughtful look, then all at once rose to his feet.

“Did you say Thierry Kiatek is being held in the basement? TakeUsto where he is.”

Thierry’s luck had been poor of late. The place where he was confined was a narrow cell adjoining the torture chamber. It had once been a simple basement, later converted into a prison cell; there was no window, and the only furnishing was a single chamber pot.

It was no place fit for a man to live. They served him such scraps of food that not even a stray dog would touch, and every day the room beside his resounded with the brutal screams of another victim under torture.

The sounds of burning flesh, of bones being crushed, curses spat through clenched teeth, and prayers to gods unknown. Hell itself renewed daily within that torture chamber. Thierry endured all of those noises, sleepless with terror, never knowing when his own turn might come.

There was no particular camaraderie, but on the days when he happened to recognise a voice among the screams, those were the worst of all. The realisation that he, too, might meet the same fate at any moment seized every corner of his mind.

When the cell door burst open without warning, Thierry nearly wet himself. Blinded by the sudden light, he raised one trembling hand to shield his eyes and scrambled backward into the corner.

“I-I did everything you told me to! I did! Why are you doing this to me?! I told you I would help you with all my heart, did I not?”

The man who stood silhouetted in the doorway snorted coldly at his terrified protest.

“Even someone like you wants to live, it seems.”

The words themselves were not harsh, yet the chill contempt that seeped between them stung worse than any insult. There was only one man he knew who could speak such refined Eneca and still make it sound like a weapon of humiliation.

“Yo-Your Majesty.”

He recognized the Emperor’s voice immediately.

The Emperor’s voice was so captivating that once heard, it could never be forgotten. But even more striking than that was the sheer brutality of the violence he had inflicted upon him. He looked up at the Emperor with trembling eyes and quickly prostrated himself at his feet. Then, in a posture of abject submission, he tried desperately to curry favor.

“I want to live, Your Majesty! Please spare me! I am aware of the crimes I have committed and deeply repent them. If you grant me life just this once, I will tell you everything I know. I have served as the attendant to Her Highness the Grand Duchess all my life, secretly handling all the dirty work she ordered. All the information I possess will be of immense help to Your Majesty!”

Had he married early, he might have had children the same age as the Emperor. But he displayed not a trace of shame, behaving as though he would kiss the Emperor’s feet this very moment.

The Emperor, and even Victor, who was watching from behind, were appalled by his pitiful display, devoid of even the slightest shred of dignity. Thierry was such a pathetic human being that it was almost unbelievable.

“Enough of your worthless and wretched pleas. Let us put an end to them. Now,Wewill ask you one thing. If you answer honestly,Wewill spare your life.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Ask me anything. I will answer truthfully.”

Currently, his sole focus was survival, and he paid no heed to the Emperor’s overt contempt. Had he been a man who valued his pride, could he have served the capricious Grand Duchess Alienor and still enjoyed her favor?

“Among the cargo they transported, was there anyguano?”

Though he was skeptical, the Emperor could not help but ask it.

“Gu-guano?”

Thierry repeated the word in bewilderment, as if hearing it for the first time in his life. Then, realizing his mistake, he fumbled through an explanation.

“I apologize, Your Majesty. I do not speak Camarin…”

“It roughly translates to ‘seabird droppings.’ It is the excrement of coastal birds. The smell is exceedingly foul.”