Chapter 79

"..."

Edgar looked around the house he'd be staying in for a while.

The Archibald estate, at least, he'd known from the start was only temporary. He'd understood too, of course, that they wouldn't be at the little house in the King's Woods forever. From the beginning, Edgar and Edwin had told their uncle: the Bertholdt estate was home. Their uncle had understood too.

So he'd assumed that when they moved next, they'd naturally be going home. This — he hadn't imagined they'd be moving to yet another new place.

No, this wasn't a move. Their uncle had told them, with a rare tightness in his face:

"Edgar, Edwin."

"Uncle, are we going to live here now?"

"No... only until some other things settle down. Uncle told you, didn't he?"

"..."

"We'll be able to go home soon. You don't have to worry."

Edgar couldn't bring himself to ask which home his uncle meant.

"Stay with Linda. All right?"

"Yes..."

"Stay with them. Please."

"Woof!"

Harold stroked Nabi's head and hurried out the door. Edgar stared after him.

Two days ago, when his uncle had gone out, he'd been in formal dress then too. But today, his uncle looked even more... how to put it.

"Where's he going, dressed like that?"

Edwin, apparently thinking the same thing, muttered with his brow drawn together.

"Weird. I thought Uncle would stick to us like glue for a while."

"Hm?"

"Think back to when we stayed at the Archibald estate."

"The Archibald estate...?"

Edwin scratched under Nabi's chin absently. The sheepdog, apparently finding the boy's attention a nuisance, flopped onto his belly on the floor.

"When you had a cold, remember? And when that... crazy man dragged us off."

Edgar blinked. Edwin watched him, hesitating, with something like worry in his face.

Edwin said odd things now and then, but reading Edwin's face wasn't hard. Edgar couldn't figure out what Edwin was worried about. When he blinked, Edwin shrugged.

"Even after the doctor or Auntie Anne said it was fine, Uncle stayed right next to us."

"Hm..."

"I mean, I get where Uncle was coming from, but honestly? It got annoying. Didn't it for you?"

"..."

Now that Edwin mentioned it, it might have been like that. But had it been annoying?

He did remember being embarrassed by his uncle making a fuss over nothing much... Reading Edgar's face, Edwin waved a hand.

"Right, right. If you were fine with it, then fine."

"..."

"Anyway!"

Edwin's voice rose, then he checked their surroundings hastily. Then, in a much calmer tone, he whispered to Edgar.

"Something really serious happened this time, right?"

"I guess..."

"Honestly, this time I was ready for Uncle to be glued to us for a whole month."

Edwin looked at the door their uncle had gone out.

"But it's only been two days and he's already out."

"...What are you trying to say?"

"Either it's not as serious as it looks."

But Edwin's face said he didn't believe a word of it even as he was saying it.

"Or it's something Uncle just has to be out for."

Edgar lifted his eyes to the house they were staying in now.

A lived-in house naturally showed the taste of the people who lived there. An old house was a family history in itself. Not heavily decorated, but with every material, every piece of furniture chosen with care, like the Bertholdt estate. The Archibald estate, for all its sharp exterior lines, had a surprisingly cozy, small-scale charm on the inside.

The little house in the King's Woods was the same. For all that its exterior looked like something out of a fairy tale, the interior had the old-fashioned grace you'd expect of a place that had served as a royal retreat.

This house, now?

No, it wasn't a house. They'd rented out an entire hotel in the 5th District. Even to Edgar, who didn't know much about hotels in the 5th District, this wasn't an ordinary one. From the corridor on, every surface he could see was carved with the kind of elaborate ornament you'd rarely find even in a respectable noble house.

Did the Bertholdt family really have enough money to rent this whole place out?

And this wasn't something money alone could arrange. From the easy way Linda spoke to the guards on watch, they might be getting help from Duke Lambert again.

"Do you think Mr. Lambert set this up?"

"..."

"There's no way this isn't a big deal... I meant to ask where he was going earlier, and I didn't get to. Maybe I should have cried and held on to him and said don't go, it's scary."

Edwin's voice was pitched high.

However hard the adults tried to hide it, the tense mood hanging around them wasn't easy to miss. Just the tremor he'd felt when he'd been carried away in Linda's arms...

"No. He'd have gone anyway. When Uncle put on his northern snowflake two days ago, that felt more like just going to work. But today he had a decoration on too."

"Northern snowflake?"

"His clothes too — it wasn't a uniform, but you could tell he'd put together something that felt like one on purpose. Didn't Uncle quit? Or did he not? I never thought to ask."

Edwin, oblivious to Edgar's reaction, muttered rapidly to himself, deep in thought. Edgar quietly waited for him to settle down.

"Wait. Who's protecting us right now? We're not in the King's Woods, so it can't be the royal guard. And Linda..."

"..."

"..."

Edwin looked at Edgar.

"What?"

"What?"

"..."

His eyes were unusually bright. Was there a light directly above Edwin's head? Edgar looked up at the ceiling. There was a light, but not as bright as he'd thought.

Edwin stared blankly upward, following Edgar's gaze.

"...What?"

Edwin let out a disappointed sigh.

If anyone should be asking "what," it was Edgar. When Edgar didn't look away, Edwin stuck his lips out.

Getting his hopes up on his own and letting himself down on his own. Edgar had no idea what reaction Edwin had been expecting. If there was something Edwin wanted, he wished he'd just say so. But Edwin seemed to change his mind and burst into a fit of giggling instead.

...You really couldn't tell what kids were thinking.

"The northern snowflake — I mean that brooch Uncle was wearing."

"The brooch?"

Edgar tilted his head. The brooch on his uncle's coat had been fairly noticeable.

"That one? Shaped like a snowflake?"

"Yeah. Only knights of the northern base can wear it."

"...There's something like that?"

"Of course. You need something to tell them apart, right?"

That was... true. Edgar nodded, still a little at sea.

Edwin studied Edgar again. He was clearly waiting for some reaction from Edgar, but what reaction, Edgar couldn't begin to guess.

"...Do you need something?"

"Huh? No!"

"Then why do you keep looking?"

"No reason."

Edwin gave a wide grin and pulled Edgar along by the hand.

"If we ask Linda what happened, do you think she'll tell us?"

"..."

"You saw Linda ride, right? She must've been a knight when she was young."

"You think?"

"Hm... And I'm getting tired of just being indoors. Let's go ask if this hotel has a garden. Nabi'll get bored being cooped up too."

Before Edgar could answer, Edwin took off on his own. Edgar was dragged along after his twin brother, hand still caught in his.

Even as he let his twin have his way, Edgar glared uneasily at the back of that black head — one identical to his own.

Edwin clearly wanted something from him, and Edgar had no idea what it was.

---

Suddenly Edgar's eyes opened.

Pitch-dark surrounded him. When he twitched his hand, a soft texture tickled his palm.

It took him a moment to realize it was the blanket.

He clenched his fist. The blanket bunched. Slowly his sense of where he was came back. The unfamiliar texture and space had thrown him off, but he remembered they were staying at a hotel now.

The room was dark. He'd been waiting up for his uncle, and in the end Edwin, rubbing his sleepy eyes, had dragged him into bed. Beside him he could hear steady, sleepy breathing. Edwin was curled up tightly, fast asleep.

The lightless dark and the still air told him it was still a long way to morning. Was he thirsty? Should he get up to use the bathroom? Edgar pulled at the blanket.

He thought he might have been dreaming. Or maybe he hadn't.

He wasn't thirsty, didn't need the bathroom, but he wasn't sleepy either. He didn't want to get out of bed, but he didn't want to just lie there like this either.

The night was quiet.

He was annoyed with Edwin, sleeping so peacefully. Should he wake him? Edwin would grumble, then pull him in and tell him to go back to sleep. But waking a well-sleeping child...

"..."

Edgar held his breath.

Someone was in the room. Between Edwin's soft breaths, he heard the faint sound of fabric brushing against itself. There were no footsteps. But someone was there.

The blanket lifted. The blanket he'd pulled and kicked into a tangled mess was being raised. A small breath of air brushed softly against Edgar's face.

The blanket settled back over him. It covered his shoulders, and a large, rough hand slid gently under his head, retrieved the pillow that had rolled off, and eased it into place.

Edgar knew that touch.

He relaxed and opened his eyes; his uncle's face came into view. When had he come back?

He didn't know what that faint light coming through the window was. Moonlight? Starlight? Or the street lamp outside?

Maybe his eyes had just adjusted to the dark.

Either way, Edgar could see his uncle. Had he only just gotten back? The coat with the northern snowflake and the decoration Edwin had told him about was gone, but the shirt and waistcoat were still on. His hair was a little rumpled, but you could still see it had been neatly combed back before he went out.

"There. Uncle will keep watch — go back to sleep."

Edgar blinked slowly.

He hadn't been sleepy at all, but at his uncle's voice his eyelids grew heavy. His uncle gave a small smile and closed Edgar's eyes for him with a gentle hand.

A warm hand covered his eyes. Even the faint light disappeared.

But he wasn't afraid. His uncle was beside him. His uncle's touch didn't leave him until he was deep asleep.

"..."

Harold couldn't quite bring himself to lift his hand from the boy who'd only just gotten to sleep.

It felt as if the boy might vanish from in front of him any second. But when he began to fret and shift in his sleep, Harold had no choice but to smooth the already-tidy blanket one more time and sit up.

He sat back down in the chair. The sheepdog, who had lifted his head slightly at Harold's movement, closed his eyes again.

Daytime was all right, at least — there were eyes on them and plenty of people around. Everyone would be on guard.

But the night? The small hours when everyone was asleep?

The uneasy thoughts wouldn't go away. Harold quietly watched over the boys.

Only after dawn did Harold change his clothes. He splashed water on his face, and put himself back in his usual easy clothes.

Just then, he heard the boys stirring in the bedroom.

"Boys, you awake?"

"Uncle!"

"Good morning..."

Harold smiled at the boys with a face that gave no hint he'd been up all night.