Chapter 18

Was it Edwin who'd said he was interested in magic?

Harold knew his brother doted on the boys, but he hadn't realized he was soft enough to sink that kind of money into a child's passing interest.

To think he'd learn something new and unexpected about his brother at this age. If he'd come back to the capital more often, he could have ribbed his brother about it in person.

"How about you and your nephew visit our institute sometime?"

Benito said it lightly, watching Harold's face.

The hope was plain: win over the nephew, and maybe the funding would keep flowing.

He wasn't wrong.

Harold had told Mattheus he'd decide about extending the funding after meeting the researchers in person, but he hadn't actually been planning to cut it off right away. Not until everything around his brother's death was settled, at least.

But if Edwin said he wanted to go, then of course he'd take him.

"I'll consider it."

Interests at that age changed easily.

Still, once things in the capital were sorted, taking a trip out there wouldn't be a bad idea. Rather than heading down to the country estate.

Since the move had been decided, the boys had been busy writing up lists of what they wanted to do in the new house. The way they wrote it out neatly on paper at eight was endearing. As you'd expect of his brother's children, the handwriting was surprisingly pretty for children their age.

"..."

The thought of the boys eased the corners of his mouth.

At the same time, Victoria's and Benito's faces brightened a little. Harold noticed their misreading but didn't correct it.

He got to his feet instead.

Escaping into other thoughts and looking away didn't change what he had to do.

If it couldn't be avoided, better to get it over with.

When Harold stood, Victoria and Benito got hesitantly to their feet as well. Harold gathered his coat and looked toward the door.

Knock, knock.

"...!"

The two researchers started and turned toward the door.

"Lord Bertholdt. The carriage has arrived."

"Thank you, Mattheus."

Harold gestured to the pair.

"You said you could start right away."

"Ah, yes!"

"The carriage is ready. Let's be off."

---

The two researchers from the west marveled at the scenery as the carriage cut through the King's Woods, but they had no idea what Lily Manor meant.

"It's my first time in the capital..."

Benito smiled sheepishly.

"As I mentioned earlier, there'll be observers present."

"Yes. We understand the situation."

"It won't take long, but..."

Benito looked at his teacher.

Victoria was back to her flat, brusque face, as if being awed by the thick, tangled forest had never happened.

"We'll need your assistance with the release procedure, Lord Bertholdt."

"Me? I don't know the first thing about magic."

"It's because of the no-access magic."

Harold tilted his head, then understood.

Casting the spell would be pointless if the researchers could just walk up to the body themselves.

"...I should tell you in advance that our institute clearly refused this particular method."

But what Victoria added only unsettled Harold further.

"It was the Count's own idea, but we... suggested using a gentler method."

"...And from the way you're saying it, my brother refused?"

"He said it was the most reliable way."

"Is that true?"

"Yes."

Harold steadied himself and looked at Victoria.

He didn't much like the researchers' attitude, but his brother would have picked them out carefully. He wouldn't have entrusted a spell like that to anyone he couldn't rely on.

"Then it was my brother's choice."

"...Count Bertholdt was —"

The rest of the explanation made Harold understand why the researchers had been so tense.

A prickly, high-nosed patron would probably have flown into a rage.

But Harold Bertholdt knew Albrecht too well to lose his temper over something like that. And even if he hadn't, he wasn't stupid enough to miss the necessity or usefulness of it.

Harold was a knight. He'd been a mercenary. He'd cast off duty and lived as he pleased, but he hadn't been drifting through dreams so thick he'd forgotten how the world worked.

"Understood."

"...Are you all right?"

"You said it was the most reliable method, didn't you?"

Victoria nodded, looking flustered.

"Then it is. I've never doubted an expert's — no, Albrecht Bertholdt's judgment. He's never once been wrong."

His brother's genius had shaken the kingdom, and the continent, for decades.

"Coming from someone who's known the man since the day he was born."

The carriage stopped just then. Lily Manor was unchanged from his last visit to see his brother.

There were more visitors this time. Several carriages stood in front of the manor, and familiar faces were there to greet Harold.

"Senior."

"Lord Bertholdt."

Anne Archibald and Gauss Manfred came straight to the carriage to greet him.

"This is Victoria Hill and Benito Vogel from the western magic institute."

For all the delicate look of the place, the mood around the manor was tightly wound.

Not to say what Victoria and Benito had to do wasn't important. But it was only the doorway to what came next.

What would they learn once the magic was released? However hard Harold had looked, there was nothing on his brother beyond the marks of the accident. No signs of anyone strangling him or stabbing him, not even that a struggle had taken place.

Just a broken neck from a carriage accident.

But something else might have happened. Confirming that possibility was why everyone had gathered here.

"The examiner?"

"He's arrived. Everything's ready."

Unlike his last visit, there were plenty of people inside the manor as well. City watch uniforms — Anne's people — and men in plain dark suits like Gauss's stood posted around the halls as though on guard. Intelligence, probably.

The atmosphere was heavy enough to unsettle anyone, but Victoria and Benito, tense as they looked, followed Harold without breaking stride.

Some things about the manor hadn't changed. The sunlight still came in gently, and the scent of flowers filled the room.

Albrecht, laid on the bed, was unchanged too. As peaceful as if he might sit up and start nagging any moment.

Someone was already in the room. An old man with hair gone white was setting out medical instruments he'd brought over on the table.

Dr. David, the coroner, took Harold's hand in greeting.

"Lord Bertholdt. It's been a while."

"Thank you for coming on such short notice."

"Now, how could I refuse a request from you, Lord Bertholdt. My young lord asked me personally."

Harold gave a faint smile.

"Grisha?"

"Business kept him away. He said he'd be at the funeral without fail. He was close with the Count too."

"Grisha probably saw my brother more than I did."

David spotted the unfamiliar faces trailing behind Harold and blinked.

"The magic researchers?"

"Victoria Hill. This is my student, Benito Vogel."

"Pleased to meet you. How long will it take to release the magic?"

"..."

Victoria looked around the room. There was a sharp glint in her narrow eyes.

"In a place like this, about thirty minutes."

"Mm. Lord Bertholdt, I'll begin as soon as the magic is released?"

"Yes."

"...You asked to observe, and given the circumstances I said it was all right, but normally we never let family see this."

David watched Harold with a worried face.

Harold gave a wry smile.

"If I can't handle it, I'll step out."

"...Understood. My young lord said, if it's you, that's what you'd say, so let him do as he wants."

David turned to Anne and Gauss.

"You two are all right with how I'll be proceeding as well?"

"I didn't know the person Lord Bertholdt was bringing would be a doctor of your standing. No objections at all. Grateful, if anything."

"For procedural purposes, would you mind if our examiner sits in as well? He won't get in your way."

David glanced at the men who'd come in after Anne and Gauss and nodded.

"As long as Lord Bertholdt has no objections, neither do I."

"None here."

The conversation paused.

A heavy silence settled. Harold drew a deep breath.

"Is there anything you need for the work?"

"...No. We're fine."

"Then please make ready to begin."

The researchers moved in silence. Unfamiliar instruments whose uses Harold couldn't even guess at were laid out on the empty table, along with herbs and reagents he didn't recognize.

The examiner Anne and Gauss had brought stepped in as David's assistant and finished the preparations.

And.

"We're beginning."

Victoria Hill said it.

The white cloth covering Albrecht Bertholdt was drawn back. Victoria slowly ran her palms over the body.

Her hands didn't reach Albrecht. Even when she pressed, something bounced them back.

"The no-access magic is intact. Lord Bertholdt."

Harold stepped up to his brother. Unlike Victoria, nothing kept his hand from taking hold of him.

"...Where is it, again?"

"On the inside of the left wrist."

Following Victoria's guidance, Harold lifted his brother's left hand. When he pushed back the sleeve and turned the forearm over, a dark mark was revealed.

Two lines extended from a single point. One short, one long. No decorative flourishes. Inside the carriage, Victoria had explained it using a heap of terms Harold hadn't caught.

Not something Harold needed to remember.

"Lord Bertholdt."

Benito held out a silver dagger.

The condition his brother had set was that the magic must activate the instant after death.

For that, the moment of death had to be measured precisely.

There were several ways to invoke magic, but the ones that satisfied Albrecht's conditions weren't many.

Harold held the dagger upright and drew it slowly along the line on the inside of his brother's wrist.

So that the magic his brother had carved into his own body could break.

"..."

Harold was a knight. He'd had a long career as a mercenary, and hunted down more criminals than he could count during his time at the northern base.

Wielding a blade was his job. It had never once been difficult.

But the dagger, which he'd have handled like a toy on any other day, was somehow heavy.

He would not forgive them.

Harold swore it.

The ones who'd made him do this, who'd driven his brother this far.

He'd chase them to the end of hell to make them pay.

---

"Lord Bertholdt."

"...It's done?"

"Yes."

Harold, who'd sat up all night in the drawing room, rose with a hollow face.

Unlike her student, who'd collapsed asleep on the sofa, Victoria had been dozing off in a chair; she came to at Harold's movement.

"How was it?"

David glanced at Victoria.

"Go ahead and speak."

There was no time to worry about that kind of thing.

"...Count Bertholdt's cause of death was indeed the carriage accident. Just as you found, Lord Bertholdt. But."

"But?"

"In the Count's blood... hm. To put it plainly."

David spoke in a low murmur.

"He'd taken a muscle relaxant and a sedative."

"..."

"There's a strong chance the Count wasn't in full possession of his faculties at the time of death."