Chapter 44: The Grand Duke Fears His Mother (2)

He responds well to gentleness, routine, and food. He asks intelligent questions and has begun studying maps. He still eats too little unless prompted. He usually pretends to be fine when he is not.

I stopped. The words sat there, far too revealing.

I almost crossed them out but thought better of it.

How troublesome.

I signed the letter and sealed it. William would send it through a secure array. If my mother read it before arriving, perhaps the damage could be minimized.

Perhaps.

That or I’m being optimistic, a rare and dangerous state.

"That was very fatherly," Abi said.

"Do not start."

"I only said fatherly. I did not say kind or any other positive things."

"Wow. Your survival instinct finally improved."

"Some things take time."

A knock came at the door.

"Enter."

Bernard stepped in, bowing. His face carried the pale stiffness of a man holding bad news and hoping it would not explode in his hands.

"Your Excellency, we received a response from the House of Gentle Mercy."

"Already?"

"Yes. Lady Marielle has agreed to discuss a review of the institution’s records. However, she requests that the meeting be delayed by two days due to board consultation."

I smiled.

"How predictable. They must be scrambling to purge all the records."

Bernard continued, "Also, one of our agents observed movement from the lower level beneath the charity after our departure. Three sealed crates were removed through a rear passage and taken to a temple storehouse."

The first rat leaving the wall.

"Which temple?"

"The Chapel of Saint Orwen, affiliated with the same branch as the cleric who visited the estate last time."

Abi sat up.

"Stale incense and decaying wood. Figures. They’re rotten to the core," he said.

"Indeed."

Bernard handed me another note.

"Additionally, the boy you spoke to, Mil, was listed for transfer."

The room went silent but my smile remained.

"When?"

"Tomorrow morning at dawn."

"Destination?"

"Unclear. The record was altered after our visit. Before alteration, our agent caught only one word."

Bernard swallowed.

"Assessment."

Assessment, huh?

Assessment in terms of temperament, aptitude, spiritual compatibility, health, and sponsor interest.

The children were being assessd and transferred to who knows where. Only the gullible would believe they would arrive at a safe haven.

Shady charities like the House of Gentle Mercy are most likely to send the children from one hell to another.

Just like ho Spiro had been transferred. Thankfully, fate intervened.

My fingers tapped once against the desk.

"Stop it."

Bernard froze. "Your Excellency?"

"The transfer. Make sure to stop it."

"Quietly?"

"Quietly if possible."

"And if not?"

I smiled.

"Then loudly enough that whoever authorized it remembers Sonomi and my name."

Abi’s eyes gleamed.

Bernard bowed. "Understood, Your Excellency."

"Do not take Mil here yet unless it’s necessary. Move him to a secure safehouse here in the Capital. We have plenty of those, anyway. Have him fed, clothed, and examined by our physician. Make sure that there are no temple personnel."

"Yes, Your Excellency."

"Find out how many other children are scheduled for transfer."

"That is already in progress."

"Good."

After Bernard left, Abi looked at me with a strange expression.

"What? Why do you look like that?" I asked.

"You are saving yet another child."

"I am merely confiscating evidence."

"An evidence named Mil?"

"Yes."

"Who also likes maps?"

"That’s a potentially relevant evidence."

Abi’s mouth curved. I felt irritated by that so I picked up the paperweight. It was considerably heavy.

He raised both hands in surrender. "I said nothing."

"Your face did."

"My face is completely handsome and innocent."

"Your face is an accomplice to crimes."

He laughed softly.

I set the paperweight down. Violence against Abi was tempting, but the day still required focus.

Things had accelerated, after all.

The charity knew I suspected something and they had promptly moved the crates. A child was scheduled for transfer. While Lady Marielle tried to delay my requests. The temple storehouse became relevant even more.

To add insult to the injury, my parents were arriving. The Crown Prince remained sick. No chances of that changing soon. The empress had given me records I meed to peruse and Abi... Abi was still hiding information.

I still haven’t had a proper vacation in years. Truly, my suffering was unmatched. I deserve compensation.

By evening, the estate began moving like a silent machine.

William arranged additional guards while Bernard coordinated with Sonomi agents. Messages flowed in and out through secure channels. Abi vanished twice and returned once with a suspiciously smug expression, though he claimed he merely inspected the air.

Inspected, my foot. I did not believe him. Not one bit.

Spiro noticed the movement.

At dinner, he kept glancing toward the hall whenever footsteps passed. He ate too quietly and only remembered to take proper portions when I placed food on his plate.

"Father," he said after a while.

"Yes?"

"Did something happen?"

"No."

He looked at me. His expression said he did not believe me.

How rude. And intelligent.

"Something might happen," I amended.

"Is it because of the charity?"

I set down my fork. Abi also stopped eating.

William, standing by the side, went still.

Spiro’s face paled slightly as he realized he had said too much again.

I sighed.

"Spiro."

"Yes, Father."

"How much did you understand from this morning?"

He hesitated. A little too much for comfort.

"Some."

"How much is some?"

His small fingers tightened around his napkin.

"That the charity is not good. That the lady with yellow hair knows something. That the temple people might be involved. That... children might be taken somewhere."

Ah. This child.

This impossibly careful, painfully sharp child.

I leaned back, studying him.

"Did the orphanage you came from have assessments?"

His face became very still.

"Yes," he whispered almost too low for me to hear.

Abi’s expression darkened. I saw William’s hand tightened behind his back. The old guy was still soft towards children.

I kept my voice even. "What kind of assessment were they?"

Spiro stared at his plate.

"They checked if children had mana or aura. Or if they could be useful." His voice softly continued.

"Most of the time, it was just chores. Sometimes there were people who came to look. The dean said that the children who were chosen would live better lives."

"And did they?"

His silence answered.

I did not move. If I moved, I might frighten him.

If I spoke too quickly, I might break something fragile.

So I waited.

Spiro swallowed. "I don’t know. Some of them never came back. The older children said they were lucky. But they said it too loudly."

Too loudly? That would mean they were afraid. That they were lying for themselves as much as for others.

I smiled gently.

My anger, at that moment, became very calm.

Terrifyingly calm. I might have been an aspiring children but there were things even I won’t touch.

A villain still has to have principles.

"I see."

Spiro looked up quickly. "Father, I am not saying the charity is the same place. I don’t know. I just..."

"You are just trying to help."

He froze.

"I am?"

"Yes."

His eyes widened. I reached across the table and placed a hand on his head. "You did well."

For a moment, he looked as if he might cry. But he did not, instead, he nodded.

"Thank you, Father."

I sighed. Alas, no child should thank an adult for hearing the truth.

I would correct that eventually. For now, there were other corrections to make.

After dinner, I walked Spiro back to his room myself. He did not ask why. Perhaps he understood or perhaps he simply liked it.

Either way, when we reached his door, he lingered.

"Father."

"Yes?"

"If children are being taken, will you stop it?"

"Yes."

The answer came without thought.

His shoulders immediately eased.

"Because it is a useful thing to do?"

There was no accusation in the question. Only uncertainty and even a tad bit of curiosity.

As if he wanted to know what shape my kindness wore so he could decide whether it was safe to hold.

I looked at him for a long moment.

Then said, "Because I dislike people touching what is under my protection."

His eyes searched mine.

"Including children?"

I smiled faintly. "Yes, children are included."

Slowly, he nodded.

"Then... I hope Father protects many things."

I kept my silence after that. I can’t possibly tell an innocent child, albeit one that knows a lot of things and keeps a lot of secrets that my protection was limited. That it was hard to come by and is an even more difficult privilege to obtain.

"Go sleep," I said.

"Yes, Father."

After he entered his room, I stood in the hallway for a moment.

William waited nearby.

"He is opening up," he said quietly.

"He is merely revealing useful information."

"Of course, Your Excellency."

His tone was too gentle. I wisely chose to ignore it.

"Any update on Mil?"

"Bernard’s team is in position. The transfer will be intercepted before dawn. Rest assured."

"Good."

"And the crates?"

"They have been tracked to the Chapel of Saint Orwen. No movement there yet."

"Have eyes on it all night."

"Already arranged."

"Excellent."

I returned to my study.

Abi was there, sitting near the window with his gaze turned toward the dark garden.

"You are quiet again," I observed.

"I am... thinking."

"How unsettling."

He smiled faintly. "That child. Spiro. He has seen ugly things."

"Yes."

"So has the boy at the charity."

"Most likely."

"And you intend to pull at the thread."

"No. I intend to rip the cloth altogether. Just dealing with the threads would be bothersome. I dislike being bothered."

Abi looked at me. And for once, he did not laugh.

"Good."

The word was soft yet heavy. It seems even he had principles to uphold. For a fleeting moment, I saw not the annoying Jinn who complained about cutlery and devoured pastries, but something else. Someone who had once stood in a war where prayers wore chains and hope was but a mere broken speck.

Then he blinked, and the expression vanished.

"So," he said lightly, "are we raiding the temple after all?"

"No. Not yet."

He groaned.

"Like I said, evidence first," I said.

"Then we raid?"

"Then we ruin."

Abi smiled.

"Now that sounds very much like you."

At dawn, Bernard returned. Mil had been secured along with two other children that had been found with him in the transport carriage.

The driver had been captured alive.

The handler had not.

Mostly because he had attempted to use a self-immolation talisman the moment Sonomi agents surrounded the carriage.

He failed. Barely.

Our people were very good at preventing dramatic exits. Especially dramatic ones.

I read the report in silence.

The transfer order had not come from the House of Gentle Mercy’s main office. It had come from the Chapel of Saint Orwen. It was signed by a priest named Father Caldus and countersigned with a mark instead of a name.

A circle split by a descending line with three small marks beneath it.

The same symbol on the black-gold relic’s box.

I stared at the report.

Slowly, I smiled.

"William."

"Yes, Your Excellency?"

"Cancel all my morning appointments."

"All of them, sire?"

"Yes."

"And the reason?"

I set the report down.

"Tell them I will be attending church."

Abi’s laughter rang through the study.

For once, I did not tell him to be quiet.