Chapter 61

The Red Range in the north of the Kingdom of Alharn.

The dignified and honorable northern base.

"Commander. The letters that came in this morning, sir."

A box holding dozens of letters landed on the desk. For a box of just letters it made a surprisingly heavy sound. The impact knocked two of them onto the floor.

The commander of the northern base eyed the letters wearily. The sergeant didn't so much as flinch; he picked up the fallen letters and put them back where they belonged.

The commander poked through the box with a sour look and asked,

"Now that the snow's melted, it's a bloody circus. Which of these do I actually need to read?"

"Right here."

The sergeant produced letters not from the box, but from inside his coat.

Taking the three letters, the commander looked like he had plenty to say but held it in. As he checked the seals on the envelopes, he glanced at the sergeant and asked,

"What?"

"Separately, Sir Bertholdt sent a letter."

The sergeant produced one more letter. The commander practically snatched it out of his hand.

The envelope bore the Bertholdt family seal. The commander looked at the sergeant with disbelief.

"...Harold? That Harold?"

"Yes. That Harold Bertholdt, sir."

"He's the kind of man who can write a letter?"

"Maybe looking after his nephews has given him some consideration for others?"

Watching the commander break the seal, the sergeant added, straight-faced,

"Or he's finally sent in his resignation."

"Don't say scary things. Even when word came from the capital, I only just managed to coax him into filing for leave."

Normally the sergeant would deliver the letter and bolt, but the fact that he was lingering meant he was curious about what had come from Bertholdt.

The commander snorted and checked the letter. Anything sealed with a royal crest could wait.

The letter was brief.

"Greetings, Commander. This is Harold Bertholdt... what? Why is this written so normally?"

"Are you sure Sir Bertholdt actually wrote that?"

"Wish he'd write his regular reports like this."

"It's more annoying knowing he can and just doesn't."

"He is Count Bertholdt's little brother, after all. That brain doesn't just disappear."

The commander thought for a moment and said,

"Or is it former Count Bertholdt? I have no idea what Harold did about the title."

"If he'd needed the title, he'd have taken it by now. And the signature on the envelope is 'Sir Bertholdt.'"

The commander read the letter through quickly, saying nothing. But something about it clearly didn't sit right — a puzzled look lingered on his face.

From the look of things, it wasn't a resignation. Just as the sergeant was about to speak, the commander held the letter out.

"Does this look connected to that... the notice we got from the capital watch a while back?"

"The watch?"

The sergeant took the letter quickly and read.

[Greetings, Commander...]

Burning a whole paragraph on pleasantries.

The sergeant skipped to the point.

[The boys are being well looked after. But whether they'll recover from what happened over the winter, I honestly can't say. I've been paying as much attention to them as I can, but an unfortunate incident occurred recently, and that's clouded things again.]

The sergeant's expression gradually shifted to match the commander's.

If he hadn't known Harold Bertholdt so well, he'd have assumed someone was dictating and Harold was just taking it down word for word. That's how far it was from how Bertholdt usually talked.

The man didn't use careful language and roundabout phrasing like this.

[...Since it involves my nephews, I can't explain it in a letter.

That said, Chief Inspector Archibald of the capital watch has been a great help. She was a year below me at the academy, and she knows my nephews too. To return the favor, I helped her with something on her end for a bit.

It happened while I've been on leave, so I don't think it should reflect on you, Commander, but I thought it was only right to report it. I'll make sure it in no way dishonors the northern base.

If any issues come up, couldn't we just say I quit over the winter? I was going to quit anyway.

In any case, since it's come to this, I'll pay my respects when you're next in the capital.]

"..."

Toward the end the handwriting got sloppy, as if he'd lost patience, but for a letter from that Harold Bertholdt, it was awfully—

"Sounds like something troublesome came up in the capital."

"That's what I thought."

"Whether Sir Bertholdt got dragged into it or jumped in himself, I couldn't say... but the watch is definitely involved."

He'd even helpfully given the name of his ally. Chief Inspector Archibald.

"If I remember right, that would be Anne Archibald. The last of the Archibald line. She inherited the count's title, from what I know... but if he's calling her chief inspector, her work in the watch must matter more to her than the title."

"You really think Harold thought it through that far when he wrote it?"

"Even if Sir Bertholdt didn't think it through, that just means while he's been around her, he's heard 'Chief Inspector' more often than 'Count Archibald,' doesn't it."

The commander took the letter back. Reading it again wouldn't tell him much more. Word from the capital reached the northern base slowly. Especially now, so soon after the winter, when the backlog came in all at once, just sorting out which news was actually current was a job in itself.

The commander dug through a cabinet and pulled out the notice from the capital watch. Then his eye happened to fall on the three important letters the sergeant had handed him separately.

One of them bore the capital watch's mark.

"..."

The commander checked the new notice from the capital watch. Then, handing it to the sergeant, he said,

"Guess I'll have to move the trip to the capital up this year."

"How shall I report it?"

"Say the days have gotten longer, roughly summer."

"Understood. I'll say additional matters have come up requiring us to shift the schedule."

The sergeant finished the letter, brought his heels together and saluted. As he was about to leave the office, the commander added,

"Doak. You're coming down with me this year."

"Yes. I'll get ready."

---

"Woof! Woof, woof!"

"Ahaha, Uncle, look at him!"

"He's gentle, but you should still be careful. He's a sheepdog, so if he decides to, he can turn fierce. In the old days they were used as hunting dogs too, I've heard."

"With a face this sweet?"

"Yes, since he has to protect the flock."

At last, the sheepdog Edwin had named had arrived in the capital.

They'd borrowed Mattheus's office again. The worker who'd had the trouble of hauling up a dog the size of a small child was paid well for it.

Edwin, who'd been in a foul mood all morning, broke into a smile as bright as the sun the moment he saw Nabi. Harold had expected him to be pleased, but if he'd known the boy would be this happy, he'd have pushed to bring the dog up sooner even if it had been a stretch.

"Sit! Good boy."

The sheepdog from the Bertholdt domain sat obediently where Edwin pointed.

His white, brown, and black coat looked scruffy, but the fur was silky to the touch. His dark eyes were half-hidden by the long hair over them, giving him a sleepy look, but they were tracking the boys with real intelligence. As though he already knew who his new owners were.

A clever animal.

Harold crouched beside Edwin, who was clapping his hands in delight, and held out a hand to the dog. Nabi carefully sniffed at Harold. The thick tail wagged softly.

"Is he the sort that likes people?"

"No. His pack instinct's strong — he doesn't take to anyone outside his pack."

Leona handed Edgar a piece of dog treat as she answered.

"He's a smart boy, so he must have caught on quickly that you and the young masters are his new pack, sir. Here, Master Edgar. Try giving Nabi a treat."

"Um..."

"It's all right. You saw your uncle just now, didn't you? You hold out the back of your hand like this and let him smell it first..."

Edgar hesitantly held out his hand. Nabi wagged his tail slowly, sniffed, then licked Edgar's hand.

At the touch of the damp tongue on the back of his hand, Edgar jumped — then broke into laughter and offered the treat Leona had given him. Nabi's tail sped up.

"Master Edwin. Would you like to give him a treat too?"

"..."

"Master Edwin?"

Edwin flinched and threw his arms around Nabi. The sheepdog only kept wagging his tail, staying still.

Leona smiled awkwardly.

"Are there any more treats?"

"Would you like some more, Master Edgar? But you can't give him too many treats!"

Leona handed Edgar another strip of jerky. Edgar took it and passed it to Edwin. This time Edwin didn't refuse — he smiled and fed the treat to Nabi.

The contrast was too stark to miss. He'd noticed it a little last time too, but today it was blatant.

"..."

Since the Dustin Glenn business, the boys hadn't taken to strangers. Harold knew that, and he'd been paying attention.

But at the Archibald estate they'd only been wary of sudden movements, and when someone signaled their approach they hadn't shrunk from it. Linda had been unfamiliar too, but they'd hovered around her out of curiosity. And Edwin had gone right up to Linda from the first day — Harold had seen Edgar pull him back more than once.

So the difference in how they were behaving toward Leona Bleiss stood out all the more.

"Edgar and Edwin haven't met Ms. Bleiss before, is that right?"

"No, they haven't..."

Mattheus, looking just as puzzled, watched the boys.

"I've never seen Master Edwin behave that way. He's always the one who goes up to people first."

For Mattheus — who had known the twins far longer than Harold had — to say that.

If either boy was going to be shy of strangers, he'd have expected it to be Edgar. But Edgar had taken to Leona right from the start.

Whereas Edwin...

"..."

When Edwin's eyes met Leona's, he snapped his head aside.

Less shyness than something a little more...

...was it dislike?

Last time he'd hidden behind Harold as a shield. He'd chalked it up to shyness then, but watching him today, it didn't look like that.

Edgar was gradually relaxing and petting Nabi as Leona directed. Edwin didn't want to be near Leona, but he wasn't giving up on Nabi either, so he stayed put with a sour face, holding on to the dog.

Leona clearly noticed. But when Edgar tugged her closer, she just glanced over at Harold now and then with a troubled look.

Harold nodded — it's all right.

But.

"Edwin."

"..."

When his hand happened to brush Leona's, Edwin screwed up his face and shook his hand out.

Shy or averse, fine. Well — not fine, but nothing he could do about it right now.

But this wasn't all right.

Edwin's shoulders drew in. Edgar, who'd been absorbed in Nabi, lifted his head belatedly but seemed not to have caught what had happened. Leona looked at Harold uneasily.

"Edwin. Come here."

"...Yes, Uncle."

Edwin came over to Harold dragging his feet. Harold sighed and led Edwin a little way off.