Chapter 47

"To think that idiot is our kingdom's prince. Unbelievable."

Albrecht had said it, and Grisha had agreed.

And at last the cursing moved on to the King.

"If he'd just named the crown prince already..."

"Any guarantee it wouldn't get worse if he did?"

"..."

He hadn't been able to answer Albrecht. Couldn't. If anything, it might make things worse... no, it definitely would.

Reading Grisha's face, Albrecht nodded.

"You realize the same goes for you, don't you? His Majesty feels he owes you, and I'm sure you know it."

"I..."

"I'm not criticizing you. Just saying."

Albrecht smiled slyly. A face that looked so much like his brother's wore a smile nothing like his.

"Because someone will put it to you like that."

"...And you?"

"What matters is what you do from here."

To Grisha, the past mattered. That hadn't changed. Grisha's life was tied to what had happened in that past.

But he couldn't argue the point. Now that he had a young sister, the future — unlike the past, which mattered to him but only ever brought him tiresome, thankless business — was precious to him.

That was why Grisha had signed on to Albrecht's plan. Left alone, there was no telling what the cost would be. Not out of any grand ideal or ambition — because he was the only peaceful option left that could stop it.

If nothing was done, it was the innocent who'd suffer. In the worst case, war.

Even so, deciding didn't mean he had to like it. Stubbornly, Grisha built himself an escape hatch, clinging to the off chance he'd never have to go through with it. Naturally, Albrecht only snorted.

"Yes, yes. Let's do that."

Albrecht's laugh had put a knot in his chest, but Grisha knew as well as anyone that the odds of his hope panning out were slim.

Which was probably why he was sitting here now.

"That would be the fastest way to end it. Whether the First Prince comes to his senses, I couldn't say."

"..."

"So — I'm counting on you, Grisha Lambert."

"...Same to you."

---

"Uncle. Anything interesting in the paper?"

"Hm? No."

"Then why are you reading it?"

"Well..."

"Dad said you had to read the papers to know what kinds of lies people were telling."

Harold looked up.

When their eyes met, Edwin broke into a wide smile. Harold smiled back before he'd thought about it. There was something endearing in the way the boy remembered something his father had said and quoted it back word for word.

The paper, full of nothing but trivial chatter, hadn't held Harold's attention long. He folded it roughly and set it aside on the table, then finished his breakfast.

Wiping a bit of omelet from Edwin's cheek, Harold turned to his two nephews.

"Boys. How does a trip sound?"

"A trip?"

"You know Uncle's traveled a lot, right?"

Half of it had been impulse.

The other half he'd meant.

At the hospital, Grisha had all but shoved Harold — who'd been offering to help — back out the door, telling him to think it over. If Albrecht's sons got hurt, he'd said, it wouldn't reflect well on him either.

The moment the children came into it, Harold had backed down. But whether it was the First Prince or anyone else, if this business didn't get cleanly resolved, the boys weren't going to be safe either.

"There are wonderful places out there. You don't have to go far. Even just crossing the sea, you find scenery totally different from ours. And even without the sea..."

"Like Mom?"

"Right. Your mother liked traveling too."

Edgar's eyes went wide. Beside him, Edwin's rounded too.

Were they both interested? If they kept moving instead of settling in one place, anyone chasing them would have a much harder time.

He could hand his brother's journal over to Grisha; that would take care of it one way or another. Safety. If safety was all he thought about...

"No!"

"I don't want to!"

Edgar and Edwin cried out at the same time. Their voices overlapped. They glanced at each other for a beat, then turned back to Harold and started talking every which way.

"Why? Uncle, do you have to go somewhere? No! You said you'd stay with us!"

"We already moved once! I don't really like traveling. I don't want to go to the domain either. You're not saying we should travel to the domain, right?"

"I like the capital!"

"Edgar gets carsick!"

"What? Me?"

"Carriages, trains — you get sick on long rides! You get seasick on boats too! You've got a condition where you die if you leave the capital!"

"I do?"

"Anyway, you do!"

Edgar looked at Edwin, startled, but Edwin lifted his chin without a flicker of shame.

Between the two of them going at once it was hard to keep up, but one thing was clear enough. Neither of Harold's nephews wanted to leave the capital.

Then again, they had said as much from the start.

"All right, all right."

Harold ruffled Edgar's and Edwin's hair and calmed them down.

He'd let it slip without meaning to, and he seemed to have spooked them for no reason. At least this time they hadn't cried, unlike before. Had they started to trust him? That it was all right to say no?

If so, that would be a good thing.

Just in case, Harold added,

"I wasn't saying we definitely would. Just that the weather's nice and I wondered if going somewhere might be fun."

"...You'd come back home again?"

Edgar eyed Harold suspiciously.

Last time, when he'd mentioned going down to the domain, the children had snuck out of the Archibald estate. Children who hadn't wanted to leave the house they'd shared with their father.

Even when they'd moved to the King's Woods, he'd promised them they'd go home once things were settled.

Harold nodded, exaggerating the gesture on purpose.

"Of course."

"...I still don't want to."

Edgar turned his head aside and said it primly. Edwin stuck his lip out too.

"I don't either."

"I heard you the first time."

"We even moved here. Wasn't that so bad people like Adrien couldn't get to us?"

Edwin rattled on, his tone put-out.

"You can't go anywhere until you've punished all the bad people."

"...Right, right."

"You promised, Uncle."

"Promised what?"

"That's a secret between me and Uncle."

Edwin flashed Edgar a mischievous smile. But his eyes on Harold were sharp.

He was being told off for a wrong word.

By the nephew who'd asked him to catch the man who'd killed his father.

If he was going to keep that promise, running wasn't an option.

"I... look, I only asked because I thought you might get stir-crazy stuck inside."

Harold offered the lame excuse. Edwin's pointed look held for another few seconds.

Fortunately, Edwin accepted the excuse.

"It's fine! I looked this morning, and the herbs I planted with Grandma Linda have sprouted! She said once they grow a bit more, we can transplant them!"

The grin that broke across the boy's face let Harold breathe again. A cold sweat had run down his back.

These were Albrecht Bertholdt and Cecilia Barbosa's children. Sharp children with enough resolve to slip past the watch and out of the Archibald estate.

Maybe he should be grateful Edwin had left it to his uncle instead of stepping up to handle it himself...

"And it's not like we're stuck inside anyway."

"That's right."

Oblivious to Harold's inner turmoil, Edwin cheerfully backed up Edgar.

The tug at his sleeve had become something like a daily fixture. Edwin was beaming.

"You said we'd go fetch the books today!"

---

The flowers in the garden had grown more vivid in just a few days.

All winter they'd looked dead through and through. Coaxing the children away from the carriage window, where they were plastered against it pointing at buds, Harold caught himself quietly impressed.

When he'd come with Anne it hadn't felt this bright. Maybe it was the children's laughter.

Even the manor somehow looked brighter.

"Edgar, Edwin. No running!"

"Uncle, open the door already!"

Watching the boys sprint for the front door the moment they were out of the carriage, Harold shook his head.

The lock clicked open. The children went straight in without a moment's hesitation. Harold had worried the Dustin Glenn business might stir up bad memories, and he watched their faces carefully, but thankfully there was no sign of it. If anything, they were bouncing off the walls.

Edgar and Edwin tore through the manor without so much as a glance back at Harold. Watching them make a beeline for the library, he had to wonder just how badly they'd been missing their books.

"Edwin, let's find the plant encyclopedia first!"

"I think I saw it over there..."

Harold followed at his own pace, taking in the manor. A house that had sat half-empty all winter wasn't going to be spotless after a few days of cleaning. But the kitchen, study, and bedrooms the intruders had trashed had been passably tidied up.

Anne had offered to lend him staff from the Archibald household, but bringing them in to work for him didn't sit right. Handing the house over to strangers didn't either.

So what could he do. He'd had to do it himself. The watch had already gone through once collecting evidence, and thanks to that it hadn't been quite as bad as he'd braced for.

If anything, using his body again after so long had felt good. It had let him clear a cluttered head, too.

"The plant encyclopedia, and... ah, Uncle! Get that book down for me!"

Edgar was stretching for a book out of his reach and called to Harold. It was the first time Harold had seen Edgar this excited.

"Which one? This?"

"Next to it! The dictionary!"

"...Can you actually read this?"

"I can!"

Thinking Harold was underestimating him, Edgar puffed out his cheeks and answered firmly.

Charmed by the sight, Harold pulled each of the books Edgar pointed at and stacked them on the floor. A few foreign-language volumes Edgar clearly wasn't going to be able to read no matter how confident he was were mixed in.

"And... and..."

Edgar hopped from foot to foot as he wandered between the shelves. The teddy bear was getting seriously crushed in his grip.

"Uncle, Uncle."

"Yes?"

"Can I go to the bathroom?"

"The bathroom?"

"Uncle! That one! There — that red book!"

"Wait a second, Edgar."

Edwin shook his head.

"I can go by myself. It's our own house."

"Well..."

Harold hesitated. He couldn't quite bring himself to say that even inside their own house it wasn't safe to go alone.

The watch had swept the manor again before they arrived, and as far as Harold could see there was nothing dangerous inside. The boys hadn't noticed, but there were watch officers positioned around the garden too...

"Uncle!"

Edgar called him.

"I'll be right back!"

Edwin darted out of the library before Harold could stop him.

Harold thought about going after him, then drew a small breath and pulled down the book Edgar was pointing at.

"Is this the one?"

"Yes. And, um... Ah! Edwin said there should be a book on the history of magic in here somewhere."

"Magic?"

"Edwin's still curious about magic, I guess."

"Hmm... It's been a long while since I was in this room, so I don't remember. Let me help you look."

"And, um, what other book was there again..."

At the Archibald estate the one who wouldn't put a storybook down had been Edwin, but blood being blood, apparently Edgar was just as fond of books.

And so Harold got dragged around after Edgar for a good long while.

"...?"

Right up until he glanced at the stack of books on the floor and realized Edwin still hadn't come back.