Chapter 57

"Edgar."

Edwin's face was serious.

"Now I get why you can't stand little kids."

"...I never said that."

"You said you hated being a little kid."

"That is not the same thing. And where's this coming from all of a sudden?"

Edwin didn't answer. The sullen look was still there. He'd been wearing that face for days now, so Edgar just gave a small shake of his head and went back to his book.

Edgar was working his way through the books he'd brought back from the house, one at a time. This was the third. He knew they were hard books for a child. Every time his uncle spotted him carrying one around, his eyes went soft.

"Edgar."

Honestly, he couldn't figure out what these books were supposed to mean. The only thing they had in common was that they were books.

There were still a few he hadn't tracked down, but he doubted getting them would change anything. They were books whose point he couldn't see. Was reading more of them going to help?

Still, he couldn't do nothing, so he was forcing himself through books that weren't even interesting.

"Edgaaaaar."

At this rate it was just reading. It'd broaden his general knowledge, sure, but was that what his father had wanted? Was that note just... a list of books worth reading at some point in your life?

Edgar shoved Edwin, who was pressed up against him, and narrowed his eyes. What had his father said when he'd handed over the note?

It was too long ago. Whatever had happened with his father, there was fifteen years piled on top of it now.

"Are you ignoring me?"

Edwin flopped face-down over Edgar's book.

"Edwin!"

Edgar, who had been doggedly ignoring Edwin's whining, finally raised his voice.

Edwin didn't even blink.

"Stop reading and play with me!"

"Go over there and read a book yourself."

Edgar pointed at the wizard book he'd picked out for Edwin. Edwin pushed his lips out in a pout.

"I finished it."

Of course he hadn't. Edgar knew it. For the first few days Edwin had made a show of flipping through books next to Edgar, then bolted for the garden.

He hadn't touched a book since.

"Then read a different one."

"Your books are boring, Edgar!"

"There are easier ones."

"That's not the point!"

Not the herbs he tended with Linda, not the bright flowers starting to open in the garden, not the mare with her weakness for sugar cubes — none of it was enough to stop Edwin sulking.

Edwin kept squirming on top of him. Edgar clung to the book for dear life to keep it from getting crumpled.

"There's the storybook Uncle bought us. And the dog book Leona recommended."

"..."

"What is your problem?!"

In the end Edgar's patience snapped and he shouted.

The moment it was out he winced. Not very grown-up of him. Since it wasn't something he usually paid attention to, he sometimes forgot that Edwin really was a small child. Even if those pillowy cheeks were the very definition of one.

"...Sorry for yelling."

Telling a small child bursting with energy to just sit and read — it was a lot to ask.

In his hazy old memories, he'd read alongside Edwin plenty of times. Maybe that was why he was so careless about it now.

But then — what was he supposed to play with a little kid at his age?

"Edgar, listen."

Edwin rolled over. A page crumpled.

Edwin's upper body slid off the couch. Watching him wriggle like a boneless cat, Edgar nearly sighed, but held it back. Once that Nabi dog got here, things would ease up a bit. That dog was his one hope.

"Do you know what those books mean?"

"What?"

"Dad—"

Edwin slid the rest of the way down. Once he was off the couch, he sprang up.

"Edwin?"

"Never mind! Go read your books, Edgar. I'm going to do something else."

Without waiting for a reaction, Edwin ran outside. Edgar reached out to grab his twin, then, listening to the footsteps recede, shrugged.

He dusted off the crumpled book and found his place.

A spring breeze came in through the open window. Peaceful.

---

"Master Edgar. Would you happen to know where Master Edwin is?"

"Edwin? He went upstairs a little while ago."

"I just went up and had a look, and he wasn't there... If you see Master Edwin, would you tell him?"

Edgar blinked and nodded.

Meeting his wide eyes, Linda smiled — so faintly it was almost not there. For no clear reason Edgar's face went hot, and he clutched the bear tight.

Fortunately Linda didn't press.

"I've baked some cookies, so if you want any, just tell me. All right?"

"...Yes."

"Make sure you eat some before your uncle finishes them off."

Linda mentioned Harold and went off in search of Edwin.

Edgar set the book aside and pulled his knees up. He pressed his face into the bear. His hand went to the seam without thinking, worked its way through to the cotton and confirmed the paper inside.

Whether Linda Glaczel could be trusted at all was one question — but ever since that day not long ago when his uncle had been so off, his uncle and Linda had been talking privately more often. Whenever Edgar and Edwin came near the kitchen or the sitting room they'd cut off or drop their voices, so it wasn't as if you could miss it.

And on top of that — never mind that his uncle had made a point of giving her a room here, Linda had gone back to commuting! When he asked why, all he got was that there was something going on in her household.

Linda's household? That meant House Lambert, obviously.

What exactly was Grisha Lambert after? It was about time for the next move. If meeting Leona was a signal, then it was a signal.

There wasn't much a little kid could do, but he couldn't just keep sitting around reading books, not knowing anything.

At the very least, he needed some way to hear what was going on in the world besides the newspapers the adults screened first. The political situation in the kingdom was about to get complicated.

Short of leaving the capital, they were going to be dragged into it. One way or another, Edgar — who'd spent that whole period under the Duke of Lambert's protection — didn't know everything, but he did remember a few of the major events.

To respond quickly, he had to figure out some way in.

Maybe say I want to learn a foreign language...

Edgar mulled over plausible pretexts.

Edwin's been going on about magic, so magic would work too.

Not something he could have asked the Duke of Lambert for.

But his uncle would say yes. Ever since they'd moved to the little house Edwin had brought up magic less often, but from the way he still read the wizard books while pretending not to care, he was clearly still nursing that... that magic fantasy.

But something I could use right now...

Leona Bleiss.

Ever since Edwin had shown a passion for dogs, anything dog-related had worked like a skeleton key. A foreign language tutor or a magic teacher — given that they'd moved into King's Woods precisely to keep outsiders out, his uncle would very likely not agree right away.

But Leona? Solid background, straight from the domain, and the dog was the perfect pretext on top of it.

It wasn't something he could ride long-term, but if he put on a scared-of-the-dog act a few times after Nabi arrived, he could use training as an excuse to keep her around longer...

And people you can actually trust are hard to come by.

Edgar, who in the near future had become Count Bertholdt, had a few advantages when it came to the people at the old Bertholdt manor.

At the very least, he knew who would still be beside him at the end of it.

Master Edgar. You're a Bertholdt. It's peaceful pastureland now, but they say this land was a battlefield long ago. Back in the Empire's time. We're the descendants of the people who survived that hell. Don't forget it, Master Edgar.

The time he'd spent at the domain after his uncle's death had been short, but Leona Bleiss was one of the few people he could trust.

You have to be strong. For Sir Bertholdt's sake, too. So you can come back.

After his uncle's funeral, he'd been all but chased out of the domain following the Duke of Lambert. The night before they left, what Leona had said to him became something that held him up for a long time.

Home.

Home.

Leona was good at her job, but outside of it she had a scatty side. Her easygoing nature meant she was up on the local gossip too.

Poke at her a little under the pretext of the dog, and she'd surely offer news he hadn't even asked for. It was good to know what was happening at the domain.

"Ah, Edgar!"

Edgar came back from the past.

"There you are."

His uncle came right over. Sitting tucked into a corner of the corridor where portraits of the kings hung, Edgar quickly turned a page.

"You were reading here?"

"Yes."

"Linda said she baked cookies. You didn't have any?"

"I want to have them with Edwin later."

Remembering that Linda had been looking for Edwin earlier, Edgar wondered if his uncle was looking for him too and beat him to it.

"Are you looking for Edwin too, Uncle?"

"Edwin?"

"Grandma Linda was looking for him earlier."

"Ah."

Harold nodded.

"He heard this place was older than the Bertholdt estate and went off asking if there were any secret passages."

"Secret passages..."

Edgar muttered it, disbelieving. Harold laughed.

"There's a secret passage in the basement storeroom."

Edgar's eyes went wide.

"Want me to show you?"

"..."

Edgar nodded without stopping to think about it. A beat later he realized he'd looked far too much like a child, lifted his chin as if that hadn't happened, but his uncle only laughed.

Edgar climbed down from the chair and took his uncle's hand.

"Does Edwin know?"

"When I told him I knew of a secret passage, he said he was going to find one himself."

"That's what he's been up to..."

He'd wondered what Edwin was doing, prowling through every corner of a house with barely any rooms — it had been about a secret passage.

Edgar sighed loudly.

"I'll hear it from you, Uncle."

"All right, all right. I'll show you."

Well — when he thought about it, this was a crown prince's villa. It had been a royal residence, so a secret passage wasn't so far-fetched. What was surprising was that his uncle knew about it.

The basement storeroom was barely used now. There was a room where old wine was kept, and beyond that everything was empty.

"There — see it?"

"...See what?"

"Well, hmm... How do I explain this. Can you feel the breeze?"

"The... breeze?"

"Hmm..."

His uncle pulled a troubled face and scratched his head, then produced a dagger from somewhere and, crouching to Edgar's eye level, drew an X on the wall.

Seriously. Where had that dagger come from?

Not noticing Edgar's bewilderment, Harold smiled, pleased. In the blink of an eye the dagger vanished from his uncle's hand.

"See where I marked it?"

"Uh... yes?"

"Knock on it three times, like this — knock, knock, knock."

Edgar obediently did as he was told.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

A faint light began to seep out from between the damp bricks of the basement, and the wall disappeared.

"One of the few pieces of ancient magic still around in the kingdom."

Edgar couldn't get a word out and just opened and closed his mouth. For the first time in his life, Edwin going on and on about magic made sense.

Where the wall had been, a long passage stretched away.

Edgar leaned in to get a better look at it, and bumped his forehead on the wall. The passage was gone; the wall was back.

"Edgar."

Harold knelt down as he always did to bring himself to Edgar's eye level and spoke quietly.

"If bad people ever come while I'm not here, take Edwin and go in there. All right?"