Chapter 47: The Grand Duke Attends Church (3)

"No."

He looked disappointed.

"Open it carefully," I said. "I want the records intact. Don’t let anything explode for fun."

"Fine. Fine."

Violet light seeped into the runes. The panel shivered followed by a click, then another, then a sound like old gears creaking and scraping against each other. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

The hidden door opened. A narrow stairway led downward.

Great. Another basement.

At this point, I should begin charging entry fees for every suspicious underground chamber I discovered.

The air below smelled of incense, cold stone, old blood, and something sweet enough to be sickening.

Abi’s face hardened. I glanced at the priest who started to smile weakly.

"You’re too late," he whispered with sickening joy.

I kicked him in the stomach. Gently. By my standards, of course.

He folded over with a wheeze.

"Do not be so dramatic," I said. "It offends me."

Abi laughed once, sharp and delighted.

We descended the stairs which led to a chamber beneath the chapel, smaller than I expected but carefully arranged. Several tables stood in the center and shelves lined the walls. There were cabinets filled with vials, ledgers, children’s tokens, locks of hair tied with thread, and small stones marked with identification numbers.

My mood turned glacial.

On the far wall was the same symbol.

Circle split by a descending line with three marks beneath. Beneath it, in old script, were words I could read. It was not Ancient Paravel but an older temple cipher that I was still familiar enough with.

The worthy vessel answers when called.

How disgusting.

Abi went very still beside me.

I walked to the nearest table. There were papers, assessment sheets with names, aptitude, mana sensitivity, aura response, spiritual compatibility, emotional pliability, even family ties and then their market replacement value.

I read that last line again.

Market replacement value.

My hand rested on the page. Hah. People in the Capital were really good at pissing me off.

"Brother," Abi said quietly.

"I know."

There were dozens of names. Some were crossed out while some were marked transferred. There were some marked unsuitable and others were marked retained.

Mil’s name was among the transferred and so were the two other children.

And near the back of the ledger, several pages had been torn out.

Recent pages.

"Find them," I said.

Abi did not joke around this time. He merely raised his hand and the space obediently folded.

Cabinets opened on their own and hidden drawers slid out. Loose papers flew into the air, sorting themselves into stacks. A false bottom beneath one table cracked open, revealing sealed packets.

This was a rare instance of the Jinn’s show of power. I have to admit that I’ve been limiting Abi a bit too much lately.

One packet bore a northern crest fragment.

It wasn’t Boleoti but a Northern household’s mark.

Inside were transfer records tied to Edric Leeds, along with everal payment records.

There was also a note instructing that a "discarded northern subject" be routed toward Lorillis and marked as low value to discourage further inquiries.

Discarded northern subject.

There was only one that came to mind.

Spiro.

The room became very quiet, even the air seemed to understand it should not move.

I folded the note carefully then placed it inside my coat.

Abi watched me, his expression had become something unreadable.

Not that I’m surprised. He was quite fond of the child. Fond enough to include him in his mischief.

Besides, it was Abi who pushed me to rescue Spiro in the first place. Labelling him as discarded ought to push a few buttons on him too.

"Do you want me to destroy the chapel?" Abi asked.

It was not a joke. And for once, I was tempted. Very tempted.

But no.

Destruction now would only satisfy anger and ruin evidence. It would burn the roots before we knew where they spread.

A villain lord did not flail in fury and built a scaffold to make their enemies climb it themselves.

"Not yet," I said.

Abi’s smile curved slowly.

"That means later."

"Possibly."

He looked pleased. While I turned back to the ledgers.

"We will take everything."

"Everything?"

"Yes, everything useful."

"That sounds like everything in this place then."

"It does."

Above us, faint footsteps moved. The shadows outside had likely entered after sensing disturbance. Good. They would secure the priest and acolytes.

I continued gathering evidence until another discovery made me pause.

A list titled-

Prospective Noble Sponsors

House Rouvier appeared twice. Lady Marielle’s name specifically was marked beside public patron.

Another Rouvier name also appeared beneath private selection.

Duke Rouvier.

Ah. Him. The father of Lady Evelina. The man who wanted to visit me.

How courteous of him to step closer to the noose.

At the bottom of the list was another section.

Imperial Inquiry

Only one name appeared in it.

It was not the Crown Prince nor the empress.

Lord Keeper Marcellus

I stared and then laughed.

"Abi."

"Yes?"

"Things are becoming even more interesting."

He leaned over my shoulder and read the name.

His grin widened.

"Are we ruining him first?"

"Eventually."

"Eventually is such a cruel word."

"Well, it builds anticipation. Less boring that way."

We finished stripping the chamber of records within the hour. By the time we returned upstairs, Father Caldus was bound, gagged, and very pale. The acolyte had already fainted. The few worshippers had been quietly escorted out through the front by my shadows under the guise of an emergency maintenance issue.

I looked down at the priest.

"You attempted to silence yourself earlier."

He stared at me with hatred.

"That means you know enough information to be useful."

His eyes flickered.

"Do not worry," I said kindly. "I will make sure you survive long enough to be properly questioned."

Father Caldus trembled. Fear was not always reliable, but it was a fine seasoning.

As we left the chapel, the Capital morning had brightened. People walked along the streets unaware that beneath a modest holy building, children had been measured like livestock and routed like contraband.

I stepped into the carriage.

Abi followed, carrying the sealed evidence within a folded space.

For once, he was silent. Halfway back to the estate, I looked at him.

"What?"

He smiled faintly. "Nothing."

"You look as gloomy as when your dessert has been prohibited."

"I... was thinking."

"Thinking? Again? How alarming."

He ignored my snide remark and looked out the window. "Those children. You are truly going to take them in?"

"The choice is theirs."

"You plan to train them?"

"Wrong. I plan to educate them."

"And sharpen them."

"If necessary. I’ll take the benefits I can get."

"And give them to Spiro."

I did not answer immediately.

Outside, the Chapel of Saint Orwen disappeared behind the curve of the street.

"Not give," I said at last. "People are not objects. Like I said, the choice is theirs. They will choose who they follow. That way I don’t have to burden myself ensuring their loyalty."

Abi turned toward me.

I smiled.

"If Spiro cannot earn them, then he does not deserve them."

For a moment, Abi stared then he laughed softly.

"There it is again. Your villainous parenting is showing itself."

"I prefer to call it competent parenting."

"Same thing, in your case."

I ignored him.

When we returned to the estate, Spiro was waiting in the entrance hall.

William stood behind him, looking resigned.

The child’s face brightened when he saw me, then shifted to concern when he noticed the state of my coat. There was noticeable smear of dust marking one sleeve that I had not noticed.

"Father, you’re back."

"I said I would return."

"You did."

His eyes moved to Abi, then back to me.

"Mil?"

"He is safe."

His shoulders eased. "Then the other children?"

"They are also safe."

"Can I write to him now?"

I looked at him, then nodded.

"Yes."

His face lit up despite it being such a small thing.

A note from one rescued child to another.

But perhaps, in the future, small things would become foundations.

A group of children saved from cruel cages,raised properly, and educated in Sonomi. Given names, choices, weapons, books, and most of all, dignity.

House Konstantin’s hidden seedlings.

A villain lord’s investment.

I handed the packet containing Spiro’s transfer record to William without letting the child see it.

"Make sure to secure this," I said.

William’s eyes sharpened as he took it.

"Understood."

Spiro tilted his head. "What is that, Father?"

"Adult trouble. No need to concern yourself with it."

He frowned. "I can learn adult trouble."

"Not until you’re as tall as my waist."

Abi laughed when Spiro pouted faintly. I merely patted his head as I passed.

"Write your note first, Young Master Konstantin. Your future followers will not appreciate a leader with poor correspondence skills."

He froze.

Then slowly looked up at me.

"Future followers?"

"Did I stutter?"

His eyes widened. Abi began laughing again.

William looked away, but his mouth curved faintly.

Spiro clutched his book to his chest, face red and eyes shining with something dangerously close to hope.

"I will write well," he said.

"See that you do."

I walked toward my study with the chapel’s ledgers waiting to be dissected, the names of enemies beginning to surface, and a new plan quietly taking root.

The orphanage had been a cage.

The charity had been a market.

The chapel had been a sorting room.

Fine.

If they wanted to treat children as assets, I would show them how a Konstantin invested.

And when those children grew into loyal, educated, dangerous people who belonged to no one but themselves and the house that gave them the choice, perhaps the world would finally learn a simple truth.

Discarded things, when sharpened properly, cut the deepest.