Chapter 49

The pile of books they'd hauled back from the Bertholdt library was enough to startle Linda. And that was even without the bookstore stop — Edwin had taken a spill and cut himself, so Harold had scrapped it.

The very people who'd brought back the pile had completely forgotten they were the ones who'd nagged Harold into going to the estate in the first place, and were off playing in the garden. Harold had seen it coming and simply watched his nephews with a fond smile.

Next trip to the bookstore, he'd pick up some storybooks at their level.

"She's so pretty!"

Edwin was over the moon about the horse the royal guard had brought in. Even Edgar had, unusually, set the bear down and was circling the horse.

"Grandma Linda, there are sugar cubes in the kitchen, right?"

"Shall I fetch some, young master?"

"Can we give her some for a treat? Carrot's fine too! But sugar cubes — Uncle! Are there sugar cubes?"

The grey mare seemed pleased by all the small-human attention and lowered her head to nose at them. Edwin laughed and stroked the mare's nose. Edgar cautiously reached out too.

Edwin grabbed a few sugar cubes off Harold's table, split them with Edgar, and bounced on his feet.

Between the horse's snorts came the children's laughter.

"Not much of Big Brother Albrecht in that."

Anne smiled along, and dropped a sugar cube into her tea.

"He hated riding — he hated animals altogether."

"My sister-in-law liked them."

"Why not have them learn to ride? At that age, moving their bodies is the best thing for them."

Not a bad idea. Harold watched his nephews feeding the horse under Linda's supervision.

They were moving a beat ahead of Linda's instructions each time — not afraid of the horse, handling her with a familiar ease. Approaching without fear, handling her with a familiar ease.

"They might have learned already."

Watching Harold say nothing and study the children, Anne came to the same conclusion.

"Well, eight is..."

Old enough to learn, sure — but the idea that Albrecht had thought that far ahead was surprising. His brother — who hated any kind of exertion — would never have taught them himself. More likely Edwin, who liked animals, had asked for it.

Small as the house was, it had been built as a residence for the crown prince. Naturally there was a proper stable around the back. It hadn't needed any work of its own, which was a relief.

With the boys around, he'd asked for the gentlest mare they had. Watching how much they enjoyed her, he'd have to take them out with her every so often.

Just then, Edwin pointed at a saddle hanging in the stable and said something to Linda.

"..."

Linda listened, then shook her head firmly. Edwin looked at the saddle with real regret in his face, but didn't press her further.

Anne let out a small laugh.

"They want to ride? Can they even ride?"

Edwin wasn't the only one who'd spotted the saddle. Edgar had been running his hands over it, gotten caught by Linda, and given her an awkward smile.

Anne turned to Harold.

"Make sure they don't ride off on their own."

Harold nodded seriously.

"Right."

Was keeping a horse at the house the right call? He'd meant it as a contingency, and he didn't think he'd been wrong about it, but... he suddenly felt uneasy.

At this rate, the boys might really try to ride out of the woods on their own...

Harold cut off the thought.

With him there they'd be fine, and even without him, Linda would head it off.

"Even so, it's a relief to see the boys doing well."

Anne, who hadn't picked up on Harold's unease, smiled gently. She couldn't not have heard that Edwin had been treated at the Archibald estate after getting hurt, and she was clearly avoiding it on purpose. Bringing it up would only make him tense.

Grateful for that, Harold said nothing and only nodded.

"Right, and — this."

The moment she'd confirmed the boys were fine, Anne got to the point.

Harold looked at the envelope she was holding out. There was no writing on the outside, but the seal of the city watch was stamped over the flap.

"Want to go inside and talk somewhere quieter?"

"No. I only came by to hand it over."

The boys were still absorbed in the horse.

Sunlight fell across the garden. Anne tipped her teacup in the warm light. A peaceful tea, at odds with whatever savagery was in that envelope.

"Two days from now, senior."

Harold ran a finger along the edge of the envelope.

He had no intention of opening it now. The boys would play themselves out and fall asleep, and only then would he look at it. Two days? Plenty of time.

Harold turned the envelope over so the watch seal wasn't showing.

"That took a while."

"We know where he is, but the gambling den he's holed up in is — big. That scaled up the operation with it."

"You're not about to ask me to help, are you?"

"I said I wasn't."

Anne gave him a light sidelong look.

"Like I said before... this is just insurance. So, senior."

Anne pointed at Harold's chest.

"Make sure you wear your unit pin."

Harold looked at her.

"If you're there on official business too, senior, it'll cause less trouble."

She didn't say it'd cause none. Anne knew Harold well.

"I'll try."

"Not try — wear it! Don't tell me you didn't bring it."

"No, no. I mean I'll try to make less trouble."

Anne relaxed her shoulders.

"Wow, thanks. Truly. Do your best."

Harold didn't answer, just smiled.

---

That night.

"Good night, Uncle."

Never mind that they each had their own room — Edgar and Edwin still fell asleep in the same bed.

Harold and Linda had come to understand the two boys got anxious when they were apart for too long, and let them do as they pleased. Even so, it was easing bit by bit.

"Sleep well, boys."

Harold tucked the blanket in around them one more time, turned out the light, and stepped out.

Bedtime for the children, but still early for the adults. When Linda saw Harold come down to the first floor, she asked,

"Going out?"

"No. I've got something to check."

"Shall I bring you something to drink?"

"I'm all right. Rest, Linda."

Linda glanced at the envelope in Harold's hand and, without a word, went into her room. She'd have guessed at it when Anne had come by.

Harold shut the door to the sitting room. He broke the seal.

About what he'd expected. The scale of the gambling den, the location, the number of watch officers being deployed, the movement routes...

The plan hadn't been drawn up around one Harold Bertholdt, knight of the northern base. Harold was an outsider, as far as it went. Sitting in on the watch's operation didn't change that. Even if he took down the criminal himself, the credit wouldn't be his.

That was fine. It'd be petty to be haggling over that kind of credit at this point.

You're going along to catch Adrien Renard too?

Grisha, though, had looked intrigued.

It was from that night at the hospital.

Grisha had frowned and told him to reconsider staying in the capital — and then the moment Adrien Renard came up, his eyes had lit up. Less because of the name itself than because the watch was involved.

Are you against it?

No, that's not it. Captain Archibald was the officer on the Count Bertholdt case, so...

A gambling den — should you even be telling me this? You know what's in it?

I know. Intelligence has a hand in the case too.

Harold suspected Grisha would have known regardless, but he wisely didn't say so.

Captain Archibald — you've got that — the northern base thing?

Northern base... what thing?

The silver brooch.

At Harold's confirmation, Grisha's smile deepened.

Captain Archibald is going to want you to wear that.

...The pin?

You just fell into the watch's lap. Of course they want to use you.

Use me?

Harold asked back, incredulous.

However badly the watch might want his skills, Anne — if she was in her right mind — knew perfectly well she couldn't use him one way or the other. If she thought his northern base commission was some kind of leash on him, she had another think coming.

No, not you.

Grisha shook his head.

The northern base runs completely separately from anything going on in the capital — but actually, that's exactly why its rank inside the capital is pretty high. On par with the royal guard or the household guard, not the watch.

Grisha pointed at Harold.

And you're pretty senior there. Captain Archibald's already handled the fiddly paperwork, so on paper you're a rather senior knight of the northern base cooperating with the watch.

...Is that a problem?

Not at all. So when Captain Archibald asks, just pin the thing on and go.

Grisha's advice had never yet steered him wrong.

Apparently amused by the sight of Harold's big frame nodding along silently, Grisha gave a short laugh and went on.

If you're there wearing that, it gives cover.

...Cover?

Yes. If something goes off the rails, the northern base gets to weigh in — grounds being that one of their knights was there.

...

Who's the current commander of the northern base?

Grisha wasn't asking because he didn't know. Harold knew that, and answered obediently anyway.

At the name, Grisha's smile turned satisfied.

See? A man of that weight will back you up.

...

Captain Archibald used her head. Send her something later. She's put in serious work on this one.

Harold worked his way through it. So Anne had been the one who...

I already told you the situation in the capital is a mess, didn't I?

Mm.

I hope nothing happens... but if Captain Archibald tells you to wear the pin, brace yourself.

For what?

Something is going to happen that's going to make you angry.

Harold opened his palm. A silver brooch in the shape of a snowflake. Even the delicate branching was rendered in detail. Bits of it were hard to catch without a close look — the crossed spine of the crystal was shaped like a sword.

He didn't know what was coming, but his friend didn't waste breath.

Harold steadied himself. He'd been warned. He just needed to stay sharp.

Once they caught Adrien Renard, Edwin would be pleased. Harold closed his hand tight around the pin.

---

Two days later.

Eastern old quarter of the capital, on the outskirts.

Freight offloaded from the harbor was piled everywhere. Empty wooden barrels dumped along the street reeked of fish.

It was late, but the streets weren't completely empty. People heading home only now, with dawn near; drunks staggering along singing; others starting their day while everyone else was asleep...

Aside from the occasional passer-by, the city was asleep. The few buildings with lights on were taverns. Even those looked to be past closing — a glassy-eyed server was wiping down tables and sweeping the floor.

When even they had turned in, one by one. Just as the city settled into its short rest before sunrise.

Figures moved through the shadows.