The topic was a delicate one, so Jeremiah took a few sips of his drink before continuing.
“To be honest, the truth of the matter is somewhat unclear. The official reason for Mr. Murphy’s loss of title was that he showed great disrespect to King Sigmund. In a fit of anger, King Sigmund stripped him of his noble rank. Later, he was given the title of a mere earl.
“There were rumors going around court that Mr. Murphy and Lord Quinton had some unclear and complicated feelings for each other. King Sigmund was intolerant of such matters. When he found out about it, he berated Mr. Murphy harshly in his fury. The loss of his title crushed Mr. Murphy’s spirit, and that was when he left the capital.
Carissa had suspected something like that, though she had never imagined anyone who served so close to the king would let their personal feelings show so openly. Besides, she was sure Clifford knew Sigmund’s temperament. Such a lapse in discretion seemed out of character for someone so experienced.
Moreover, stripping someone of their title over a personal matter seemed like an overreaction. But now, hearing this from Jeremiah, it made sense.
Perhaps Clifford had truly regarded Sigmund as a friend, and the lack of subtlety was a consequence of that. It was also possible that as that kind of thing happened more often, Sigmund grew increasingly displeased, leading to the final fallout.
“So, do you think Mr. Murphy held any lingering resentment against King Sigmund when he left the capital?” Carissa asked.
Noticing her calm demeanor, Jeremiah realized she had likely already suspected this. His expression softened as he replied, “On the surface, no. But what was in his heart, only he knows. Or perhaps Lord Quinton knows.”
Carissa didn’t want Gerald to know, especially now when matters were so delicate. A lapse in judgment, even a small one, could throw everything into turmoil.
“Do you think anyone else, aside from Lord Quinton, might know?” she asked carefully.
Jeremiah pondered the question before saying, “Mr. Walker’s mentor, Edgar Whitley, likely knows. He served King Sigmund for many years, and after the king’s death, he was allowed to retire in the capital. Mr. Walker even bought him a house.
“He’s old now, but his mind is still sharp. He should remember the details from back then, though he doesn’t meet many people now. It would be best to have Mr. Walker take you to him.”
Carissa hesitated. She didn’t want Salvador to know about this just yet, especially since he had never been fond of Derek interacting with people from the Hell Monarch’s household.
“I’d rather not involve Mr. Walker. Would you be willing to take me to him, Mr. Murray?” she asked.
Seeing that the hour was still early, Jeremiah nodded. “If it’s a matter of importance, we can go now.”
Edgar’s modest home was located in the western part of the city, on the remote Harmonia Street. When they arrived in the evening, there were no lights on. They had to knock for quite some time before anyone came to
answer.
The door was opened by an elderly servant dressed in grey, holding a lamp. He cast a brief glance at the two distinguished guests and seemed surprised by their appearance. Clearly, aside from Derek, few visitors came calling.
“Who are you seeking, my lord and lady?” the servant asked, eyeing Jeremiah and Carissa with curiosity. He didn’t
recognize either of them.
Carissa quickly replied, “Please inform Mr. Whitley that the prime minister, Mr. Murray, has come to visit.”
Upon hearing that it was the prime minister, the servant didn’t hesitate to usher them inside with great respect, not needing to report to anyone further.
The house was small, with a modest sitting room leading to bedrooms and servant quarters. A narrow corridor ran along the back, connecting the kitchen and the servants‘ rooms. Aside from the old servant, there was a maid, who hurriedly poured drinks for them.
“Mr. Whitley has already retired for the evening,” the servant explained. “I’ll wake him.”
Before long, the servant returned, helping the elderly man out of his room. Edgar’s hair had turned completely white and his face was lined with wrinkles. However, his complexion remained unexpectedly rosy. His legs were unsteady, and though he was tall, his habit of stooping made him seem shorter than he truly was.
When Edgar saw Jeremiah, his face brightened and he started to kneel. noveldrama
Jeremiah quickly stepped forward to help him rise. “Mr. Whitley, there’s no need for such formalities. Please sit.”
Edgar smiled, then glanced over at Carissa. His years of service at court had given him a sharp eye for distinguishing people of importance. Though she wore simple men’s clothing, he could tell at once that her status was not ordinary. He offered a respectful bow.
After politely returning the gesture, Carissa went straight to the matter at hand without even introducing herself. “I wish to ask about what happened to Mr. Clifford Murphy all those years ago.”
Edgar appeared taken aback that someone would bring up such a matter after so many years. He paused for a moment, then glanced at Jeremiah. Recognizing that the prime minister’s visit at this hour meant he needed a precise answer, Edgar motioned to the maid.
“Go and retrieve the brocade box from the highest shelf in the cabinet,” he instructed.