Chapter 3

Next door to the Bertholdt estate stood the Archibald estate.

Like most noble families, both houses had passed their estates down for generations. Which meant the Archibalds were familiar to Harold, too — or more precisely, they had deep ties to the Bertholdts.

Anne had known Edgar and Edwin since they were born. They'd been neighbors, and she'd been close with Harold's brother and sister-in-law. For the boys, like Mattheus, Anne was a far more familiar face than Harold was.

"I'm sorry, Harold."

Once the adults were alone, Count Anne Archibald apologized.

"I knew you were stationed up north.... I thought the boys would be down at the country estate until you got back."

Count Bertholdt was dead. The estate was empty. The staff had all left. The Count's funeral couldn't be held until Harold arrived. With the roads snowed in, it would take a month at the earliest before the Bertholdt house was on its feet again.

Leaving the children alone in the estate would have been hard on them, so naturally they should have been sent down to the country. A reasonable assumption. Apart from Harold, no adults in the Bertholdt line were still living, but the family's country estate had retainers who'd been with them for years. The perfect people to look after the boys.

"That was the original plan...."

Mattheus nodded along with Anne.

"With the butler refusing me access, there was nothing I could do until Sir Bertholdt arrived. Still, I never imagined the young masters were being kept like that."

The normally unflappable lawyer chewed at his lip and paced restlessly across the study.

In the middle of it all, Harold sat with his face buried in his hands, trying to steady his breathing.

Anne Archibald watched him and swallowed hard.

"Harold. This is the capital — you can't just go charging off."

"I know."

"You really do?"

"Why else would I have brought the kids to your place?"

"Look at you. Getting old enough to think things through."

Anne, clearly trying to ease the tension, smiled sheepishly at her own joke.

The smile didn't last. Her face hardened, and she crossed her arms. The motion caught the medal on the left breast of her uniform, and it glinted.

Harold looked at the gold medal and spoke.

"You still with the city watch?"

That gold medal was the very reason Harold had broken down the neighbor's door — that, and the fact it was next door.

"Yep. I run the Third District."

Anne bared her teeth in a fierce smile.

The Third District included the residential area where both the Archibald and Bertholdt estates stood.

A knight was supposed to steer clear of private retribution, but the man in question was already a criminal, wasn't he? If it helped the investigation, no reason not to make use of the connection.

"Like Mr. Mattheus said, refusing visitors is legal. But...."

Anne, who'd happened to be home when Harold showed up with the children, had been horrified.

After long years on the watch, she'd picked up quickly on what had happened. By the time the doctor had been called and the boys looked over, the hunch had hardened into certainty.

"Keeping me out is one thing, but there's no defending how the young masters were neglected."

And the boys, perhaps reassured by seeing familiar faces, had been quick to talk.

Adrien said we weren't allowed out. He said it was dangerous.

Maybe once every four days? He'd bring us bread and stuff.

But, um, everyone was there at first. Then Adrien said they'd all quit....

Grandpa Mattheus was busy — oh, are you not busy anymore?

Sometimes strangers came to the house. Adrien said they were there to take care of the garden, but they never went anywhere near it!

I hated when they came. They smelled weird.

Edgar and Edwin had spooned up the warm soup eagerly, chattering away.

Honestly, Harold thought it was the boys' own form of revenge. They were his brother and sister-in-law's sons, after all. Of course they'd be furious at the man who'd kept them locked up for a month.

What was more, Adrien Renard had been hired directly by Count Bertholdt himself. He'd never have brought someone he couldn't trust into the house.

Naturally the children would have trusted Adrien too.

"I should've come home more often."

The thought slipped out before Harold could catch it.

Anne and Mattheus both looked up, startled.

Harold gave a bitter smile at their reaction. He'd been posted at the northern base for just shy of two years. It was a hassle, but not so far that he couldn't have made the trip.

If he'd come down to the capital even once — seen his brother, met the boys — would any of this have been different?

Harold. I didn't want to leave you with anything this cliché....

At the bank, alongside the will, there had been a letter.

For the Albrecht Bertholdt that Harold knew, it had been a remarkably sentimental letter.

"Hm. If Count Bertholdt had heard you say that, he'd have laughed himself sick."

Anne, perhaps uneasy with how heavy the air had gotten, pointed it out with an awkward smile. Harold's own smile was faint.

"That sounds like him."

You used to love running around so much. Guess getting older makes everyone realize home isn't so bad after all.

That was exactly the kind of thing his brother would have said.

"For now... neglecting the children is plainly a crime. The question is what he was after."

"Anything he did was going to come out the moment Sir Bertholdt returned. The fact that he did it anyway means he had some other purpose."

"You said he dismissed the staff, right? Not just sent them on leave?"

"Employment contracts are between the staff and the Bertholdt house. A butler is neither the children's legal guardian nor the Count's proxy — he has no authority to break those contracts. I was gathering evidence to settle this the moment Sir Bertholdt arrived."

"The obvious answer is money, but...."

It was the easiest motive to land on.

But something didn't sit right.

"Then why drag it out for a whole month?"

"To buy time to run?"

"The kids said they last saw him a couple of days ago. That's not much of a head start."

"...."

No one in the study wanted to say it, but they were all thinking the same thing.

If he'd really been buying time to escape, he should have run regardless of what happened to the children.

Locking them up was one thing — maybe he hadn't had the nerve to go any further than that.

"Hmm. Shouldn't we start, then, by checking what's missing from the estate?"

Mattheus broke the silence.

"The Count wasn't an extravagant man, but the estate wasn't without its valuables."

"It's people doing this. There's always evidence."

He was right.

Whatever Adrien Renard had been after, a month was a long time.

The fact that he'd kept coming and going from the estate over those weeks meant he'd needed that time — whatever it was he wanted. Even if what he'd wanted was the children themselves.

Harold's fists clenched.

He had to keep his head. He couldn't let the anger take over. If his brother were still alive, Harold could have done whatever he wanted and shoved the cleanup onto him — but his brother was gone, leaving behind only the small warmth Harold was now responsible for.

Edgar and Edwin.

Those boys needed someone to protect them. Look at what had happened to them in just the month the snow had held the news back.

"...You're not wrong, but as you know, it's been almost seven years since I was last in the capital."

Harold frowned as he pointed it out.

"Mattheus knows the place better than I do."

The lawyer, unable to refute it, ran a hand uneasily along his jaw.

Seeing his reaction, Anne smiled awkwardly too.

"Still, poking around the estate without you there feels off."

"True enough...."

Even Harold wasn't quite comfortable leaving the estate entirely in someone else's hands.

"And there'll be a vault that only direct family can open. With the Count's... well, with how sudden it was, things probably aren't sorted out either."

Anne spoke carefully.

"The butler matters, but that side of it has to be you."

"...Right."

Harold nodded.

It was a fair point. If he remembered correctly, his brother had worked in intelligence. He wasn't the kind of man to bring classified documents home, but caution couldn't hurt.

If Adrien Renard's goal hadn't been money, that kind of information might have been the point.

As Anne had pointed out, noble houses usually kept a hidden vault — and to open one, you needed direct family. Innocent children who knew nothing might have been exactly what Adrien needed.

Eight was young enough that even if they knew about a hidden vault, they wouldn't have learned how to open it yet.

"Ah. But."

"But?"

Anne looked apologetic.

"While the investigation's running, you won't really be able to use the estate. I mean, you could, but with watchmen coming in and out, the children—"

"...I don't like that either."

The cold, frozen room came back to him vividly.

It wasn't that there weren't other rooms in the big house, but he didn't want to put young children in a place that had gone a month without care.

"You're welcome to keep staying here."

"No. I can't impose on you that long."

Harold shook his head.

"Once things are sorted out, I'll take the boys down to the country estate."

He hadn't planned to say it, but it came out on impulse.

Once said, though, the idea sat well with him. Unlike the capital house, the Bertholdt country estate was pleasantly pastoral — just the place to wait out a noisy situation.

"Then shall I find somewhere for you to stay while you're in the capital? There are a few hotels with ties to the Bertholdt family."

Mattheus asked.

Harold thought for a moment, then turned the offer down.

No matter how good a hotel was, strangers came and went. Now wasn't the time for that.

"No, Mattheus. I have somewhere."

Mattheus waited for him to continue, but Harold said nothing more. Mattheus didn't press.

Anne, however, seemed to have an idea — her mouth pursed in a knowing way.

"That person?"

"Yes. If we have that kind of help, nobody's going to be able to pull anything on the boys."

"I'll keep the investigation as quiet as I can."

"It's not that I don't trust you—"

Anne waved it off with a smile.

"That's the watch for you. No matter how many times I tell them to keep it quiet, there's always someone looking to make a little side money off it."

"...."

"Not that I'm letting it slide! I'll keep them in line, whatever it takes!"

Harold waved a hand to stop her.

Watching Anne flustered like that, Harold thought that for all the headaches piling up, some things hadn't changed.

"I'm going to check on the estate right now."

Putting it off wouldn't help.

"Should I come with you? Or...?"

"If I find anything, I'll call for you."

Harold turned the offer down gently.

Anne didn't press, but Harold looked at her a moment longer before turning to Mattheus.

"Would you check if the children are resting all right?"

"I'll stay with the young masters."

Click.

Mattheus slipped quietly out of the study. Anne looked at him. The serious gleam in her eyes said she already knew what Harold was about to bring up.

"...Harold."

Harold ran a hand through his hair, expression tangled.

"Anne. You're with the watch, so you'll know more than I do. That's why I'm asking."

The other reason he'd come to the Archibald estate.

"Yes."

Harold looked her straight in the eye.

"Did my brother really die in a carriage accident?"