Dear Robert Clarke. If you value those close to you, you will stop overstepping into our affairs. Commoners should not blend with nobility. Drop out of the tournament, otherwise, we would be forced to act. Not even your patron can protect you from a threat nobody can see. —A friend.
My body froze, and my thoughts broke down. Weren’t we winning? Wasn’t the Prince’s support protecting us from any attempt against the orphanage? I tried to open my mouth, but my jaw clenched. I reread the letter, hoping my brain was playing tricks on me, but no, the words remained the same. Such a blatant threat only meant one thing. Whoever sent the letter had the power to harm us whether I reported it to Prince Adrien or not, and only one faction fell into that category. The Osgirians.
I fed [Awareness] with mana, and the skill forced my fears into a corner. The world seemed to stop as my brain went into overdrive. The implications of the threat flooded my mind in a purely rational manner. The sender wanted me to show the letter to the Prince, or at least they didn’t care if I did. That could only mean two things. The sender had the power to act upon the threat, whether the Prince acted to protect me or not or, the sender anticipated another reaction from the Prince’s side.
To act so openly, the Prince’s reaction had to benefit the sender. I racked my brain, searching for an answer. Why would someone draw the royalist faction's wrath upon them? A hypothesis popped into my mind, but it was a long shot. After reading the letter, the Prince would not risk my well-being, and he would ask me to pull out of the tournament.
While the Prince wanted me to put the ducal faction to shame, our deal regarding ‘turning mud into iron’ was more profitable in the long run. Our team has already shown the Great Ducal Houses could be beaten by a group of orphans, so the Prince could deem our job done. The Imperial Cadets were strong enough to deal with the Osgirian Team in the finals, so he didn’t technically need our presence in the tournament anymore. If the Prince asked me to step down, I couldn’t refuse.
Did the Osgirians know about my secret deal with Prince Adrien?
I could only assume they did. Otherwise, the threat made no sense.
“Vedras!” Captain Kiln grunted, pulling me out of my train of thought.
I folded the letter and put it back in my pocket. Nobody in the Great Hall seemed to notice us. The messenger was long gone.
“That frog wants to poison you despite the fact you saved his sorry ass. The unseen threat mentioned in the letter is clearly poison, and considering how it is signed, he’s poking fun at the fact you two hit it off during the feast,” Captain Kiln muttered.
“It’s not Vedras,” I stopped her.
Captain Kiln gave me a quizzical look, but I bit my tongue. I wanted to trust her, but [Awareness] told me it was risky. If Sir Janus was right, and the Marquis had a secret deal with the Osgirians, and there was a slim chance Captain Kiln was involved. The Captain of the Guard was the Marquis' right hand, after all, and even if Izabeka wished no harm against the orphanage, she was still bound by duty and honor. Anything I told her could end up reported to the Marquis.
I examined her expression, but my [Awareness] couldn’t see through her. I closed my eyes, and the pictures of Captain Kiln playing with the little ones appeared before me. I refused to believe she pretended to enjoy it. Izabeka was more than a piece on Farcrest’s political board. I wanted to believe her honor went deeper than her allegiance to the Marquis, even if it was an irrational thought.
Maybe, feelings were a different way of rationality.
“We need to talk, Izabeka,” I said.
“You are scaring me. You usually call me Captain,” she replied.
“I’m not talking with the Captain.”
“Damned be the day I met you, Robert Clarke.”
Captain Kiln jumped on the carriage with us. Despite the anti-spying measures in the Great Hall, I would rather discuss the matters regarding the orphanage far from the Marquis’ reach. Elincia clung to my side, and the kids bantered about their achievements in the tournament, unaware of the threatening letter. Even Wolf bragged about his fight against the Berserker and how he didn’t need a Class to win.
We reached the orphanage, and the little ones received us like war heroes.
I let out a sigh of relief seeing everyone was safe.
“Anything strange?” I asked, stretching Risha’s hand while the little ones swarmed the kids.
“Nothing to report, big dog. The little ones have been bouncing around all day long, and Astrid is exhausted,” Risha replied, examining my face. “Something happened?”
“A threatening letter,” I whispered.
He froze.
“Not just anyone can threaten us after the Prince announced his support for the orphanage. This is bad,” Risha replied, his face turning into a mask of concern.
“I know,” I sighed. “Get the kids to the kitchen to have a snack. Then, bring them to the ballroom. We have to make a decision.”
Risha nodded, and with Elincia’s help, they herded the crowd into the manor and through the corridor. Risha had that particular charm little kids couldn’t help but follow, loving, charismatic, yet firm. Maybe it was about his size. Captain Kiln and I remained in the vestibule. Whether my [Awareness] could read her or not, I needed to probe her.
“Izabeka, I need to know if you are keeping anything from me,” I said, catching her by surprise.
“I haven’t told you about the investigation regarding Kellaren’s fraud, but we haven’t made progress. The more we dig, the more false victims appear. It’s like someone is actively smudging out the investigation,” Izabeka said.
I nodded. Risha had already informed me about the lack of advance on that front, including his suspicions about a third party moving strings from the shadows. I remained silent, examining Captain Kiln’s expression in a failed attempt of [Awareness] to break through her poker face. She seemed a bit nervous.
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“Do you mean Darius’ Silence Hex? I did confirm he had one, but it’s impossible to know who put it there,” Captain Kiln finally said.
I remained silent. I wasn’t sure if this interrogation tactic was well known in this world like it was in mine, but it worked with little kids and was working so far.
“You don’t think the Marquis did it, do you?” Captain Kiln asked. “The hex has to be related to his work on the Imperial Library. Imperial Scholars are really jealous of their research, and Holst is the new guy there.”
I expected Captain Kiln to advocate for Farcrest nobility whether she was involved in their dirty affairs or not.
“His hex isn’t about the Imperial Library,” I shook my head. “After the feast, Holst told Elincia he was in her debt because she saved Raudhan. Elincia asked him why he poisoned our crops before departing to the Imperial Library, and Holst replied it was to repay a favor. When Elincia asked to whom, Holst couldn’t answer. The hex happened previously at his departure.”
Captain Kiln froze as she realized who would benefit from the fall of the orphanage.
“There’s no way Tauron did it. He is not a tyrant, he cares deeply about Farcrest. During Monster Surges, he is the first to lead the attack and the last to retreat. He had risked his life for our soldiers and the people inside the walls.”
Despite what Captain Kiln believed, the proof was piling against the Marquis.
“What if sacrificing a few could save many? Don’t the Sentinels risk their lives in the Farlands to keep the city safe?” I asked.
“That’s different. The Sentinels do it by their own will,” Captain Kiln replied.
If Sir Janus’ suspicions were correct, everything made sense. Kellaren, the Marquis, the Osgirians, and Holst were all connected under the same scheme. Every single one of them worked in subtle yet different ways to bring down the orphanage, and it was my fault the methods had become more violent. The more I succeeded in protecting the orphanage, the more extreme were the methods they used to bring us down.
“I’m the Captain of the Guard. You can’t accuse the Marquis like that in front of me, Rob.”
Izabeka wasn’t like them. Despite the vertigo in my stomach, I took the leap of faith.
“I invited you because there are things I haven’t told you. Would you hear me out before making a decision?” I said.
Captain Kiln sighed. “I knew you were bad news the moment I saw you crossing the Great Hall doors. Now, I’m afraid you are right.”
________
Not an hour later, the whole orphanage was reunited at the ballroom, the threatening letter open over the long dinner table for everyone to see. I hated to be the bringer of bad news, but we had to play with the hand given to us. Elincia and Risha exchanged worried glances, Astrid remained away from the scene, by the windows, and Ginz paced through the ballroom. The older kids were by my side.
“We can’t drop from the tournament. The more popular we get, the harder it will be for Kellaren to touch Firana. If we leave the spotlight, we will be dead in the water,” Ilya said. “We must tell Prince Adrien.”
I tended to agree with her, but her logic was flawed.
“Whoever wrote the letter must have enough strength to execute the threat whether we remain in the spotlight or not,” I said. “The only one who can stand up to the Prince is the ducal faction, and I fear that he would force us to drop to avoid unnecessary conflict. Prince Adrien already got enough from us and he needs to maintain a semblance of peace with the ducal faction if he wants to continue with the Farlands Campaign.”
“Are you saying the Prince would forsake us?” Elincia asked.
“He doesn’t gain anything by picking an open fight against the Osgirians. Asking us to drop from the tournament is a small price for the kingdom’s stability,” I replied.
“We should surrender, then,” Risha said.
That option was also flawed.
“Surrendering will solve our current problems, but in the long run, winning the tournament and becoming nobility ourselves will be more beneficial,” I explained.
“I don’t get it,” Captain Kiln said. “By becoming nobility, you will only be deeper in the mud.”
I shook my head.
“Commoners and nobility have different rights and obligations. Everyone in this room except myself is a subject of the Marquis, and he can order all of you around as he pleases. The army needs more Alchemists? Elincia would have to travel to the front lines. The army needs more muscle? Risha will not be able to remain at the orphanage. The army needs combat engineers? Ginz will be building fortifications in the deep Farlands. The Aias Mercenaries allegiance is transferred to another lord? Firana will have to depart from Farcrest,” I explained. “A noble, however, can say no to their lord under certain circumstances, or they can pay a sum of money to be left alone.”
Captain Kiln raised an eyebrow.
“You can’t be implying the Marquis is working with Kellaren and the Osgirians,” she said.
“I’m not implying it. We suspect that is the case,” I said. “The Marquis has been preparing Farcrest to become a trade hub for the last eight years in the event the Farlands Campaign is successful. He isn’t the only one trying to enrich himself. We believe Osgirians are preparing their own caravans with the help of the Marquis and the manpower of the Aias Mercenaries.”
Captain Kiln laughed. “I don’t know what you are smoking, but I recommend you drop it. How did you come up with that bullshit?”
“Sir Janus told me. He wants to sever the relationship between the Marquis and the Osgirians to keep Farcrest’s independence. To achieve that, he wants to remove Kellaren from the picture,” I replied.
The smile on Captain Kiln’s mouth broke.
“Crap. That weasel…” the woman muttered as she tied loose ends. “That explains why Janus had been working non-stop on Kellaren’s case. He has been sober and helpful since the feast, which doesn’t sound realistic unless he has an ulterior motive.”
Any doubt I had about Janus’ theory disappeared.
“Crap, crap, crap,” Captain Kiln repeated. “It makes sense. Everything.”
It seemed Izabeka’s trust in the Marquis was more feeble than expected. She squinted her eyes as mana swirled through her body. She overloaded her [Awareness] before speaking again.
“Kellaren knows about my relationship with the orphanage. It’s not like we had tried to hide it. He must’ve been undermining my authority with the younger recruits to limit my movements,” Captain Kiln muttered, her face suddenly pale. “What if Kellaren and the Osgirians were the ones who tried to poison me during the feast? They tried to disband the royal army and get me out of the picture in one swing. An Osgirian Sniffer could let the poison through if instructed.”
Just as I initially suspected, there were two independent poisonings during the feast.
The ballroom remained silent as the pieces of the puzzle completed the picture, and the picture was dire. I closed my eyes, repeating my mantra. Every problem has a solution. However, I saw no good answers. If we dropped from the tournament, Firana would be in danger. If we continued, assuming we could win, the orphanage would be in danger. Firana or the orphanage. I shook my head. I wasn’t going to choose. I wasn’t going to sacrifice a kid to save the rest.
“There’s another solution,” Firana broke the silence. “I can become the head of the Aias family right now—”
“We already discussed that, and the answer is no,” I interrupted her. “As long as we have other options, you will not join Kellaren. He could easily put his crimes on your shoulders and then discard you.”
“But we don’t have other options,” Firana retorted, expelling a gust of wind from her body. “I will not stand idle when everyone is in danger!”
“We have options,” I stopped her. “Ilya, Wolf, Zaon, and Firana, please leave. It would be safer for you if you aren’t involved from this point onward.”