It could be completely harmless. Being sent off to deliver documents was perfectly in line with the job scope of an administrative assistant. Benjamin Michaels was also the youngest of the bunch, so it wouldn't be odd for him to be stuck with such a long and tedious errand.
"Was it Sir Hart or the steward?"
Gerald paused for a moment. "Mister Michaels mentioned it was in regards to the accounts of several businesses," he seemed to recall. "Was there something you wanted from Mister Michaels, my lord? Should we send someone to have him come back post-haste?"
"Give me a moment," Mattheus replied as he stood and just thought over his potential next actions and what would be the best option after this unexpected situation.
He could go to Rhodes and ask about those accounts.
But, rather than finding out whether the errand was real or fabricated to be an excuse for Michaels to leave the estate, it was probably more important to figure out if the assistant was a spy. And, if so, what exactly was the purpose of posing as an assistant.
Mattheus suddenly had an idea.
"Gerald, take me to Benjamin Michaels's room."
"Yes, Lord Crown." The butler hadn't flinched at the odd order but his quick stride revealed an awareness that there might be some urgency involved.
The assistants didn't stay in a room like the one Mattheus did as both a guest and nobility. But they were also educated, so-called "white-collar" type employees, so got single rooms compared to the household staff.
They also had locks to their rooms but it wasn't an issue for Mattheus when Gerald was there. The butler was one of the few that had keys for basically every lock in the manor.
"Oh, dear…" Gerald broke the unaffected mein he had at the absolute mess the room was in once the door was opened, surprised at the chaotic disarray.
Brunilda squeezed in before Mattheus walked in and cast an eye to take in the overall state of the room. It was like a hurricane went through.
"Gerald, find out about the details of the errand Michaels left to do."
"Ah, yes. As you will it, Lord Crown." Gerald bowed before sweeping away to do as told.
It wasn't looking pretty good for the chance that Benjamin Michaels was just an innocent man. This wasn't just a mess created from being rushed on a last-minute errand but something more akin to "fleeing."
"Mattheus! Over here."
The young man walked around the bed to see the cat halfway through pulling something out from underneath said piece of furniture.
Said something turned out to be a letter.
"That's a foreign language." Mattheus frowned.
"Put it in your Inventory so we can study it further later. But I can read enough of it to know this guy is a spy for another country. It also mentions the alliance talks."
Mattheus's eyes widened.
"I smell traces of a bunch of suspicious chemicals and scents," Brunilda continued. "And the letter seems to have been left on accident."
"What?" he hissed. He was still a bit bewildered how he went from coming to Noll's Hill to heal Nina Grant only to discover an actual spy.
The cat dashed over to a desk, pawing at a drawer. "Here. See if you can analyze any traces that might be left. The scent is strong enough I suspect some of it spilled onto the wood."
Mattheus moved on automatic despite still being overwhelmed at the bizarre situation he found himself in the middle of. Upon opening the drawer, he shook his head and forced himself to concentrate, knowing his friend wanted him to use the Dedicated Student passive to see if he could pick up any details even with the actual contents taken.
After what felt like ages, he jolted when the little information that came to him was registered. He bolted out of the room, all sense of keeping the propriety of a noble's dignity gone.
"Mattheus?" Brunilda exclaimed as she darted after him.
He didn't slow down as he ran down the halls to Nicholas Hart's office, even when he felt Brunilda scrabble up his back to hang from a shoulder with her forepaws. "Poison," was the only thing he said but Brunilda was smart enough to connect the dots.
Mattheus needed to contact someone at the capital and the only place that he could probably make a call there would be with the General's aide.
…
Why? Why did his luck suck so bad?
That was Mattheus's thought as he rushed toward the station.
But of course, the way to communicate quickly with the General or even the capital would be sabotaged. Despite Benjamin Michaels having a horrible poker face, it didn't mean that the spy was incompetent.
The only positive thing was that this was the countryside and trains didn't often come to the station. It meant they could figure out that Michaels took the morning train, considering the train schedules for the stop, so he would be roughly five or so hours behind the spy.
Mattheus would arrive back at the capital in the early evening with, hopefully, enough time to warn the necessary people.
As Mattheus had been impatiently looking out the window of the carriage, he cursed as he saw the train already at the station. Grabbing his suitcase, he opened the door and kept a hand on his hat as he hopped off before the carriage came to a complete stop.
"Hurry!" Brunilda urged.
He knew! If he missed this train, it wouldn't just be five hours behind.
Mattheus managed to hop on as the train pulled out of the station, gasping and catching his breath. He still wasn't sure if his rapidly beating heart was from the run or adrenaline from actually jumping onto a moving train (even if it was before it gained serious momentum).
Maybe it was from nearly missing the train.
The man wasn't even sure if it'd be the end of the world if he missed this train. The remaining people at the estate were going to do everything to get a message to the capital. In all likelihood, the warning from the estate would arrive before Mattheus did.
He was just heading back immediately as a failsafe. A backup option.
With barely a thought, he tossed the suitcase he carried for appearance into the Inventory. Much better.
"You okay?" Brunilda asked, having hopped on before him.
Mattheus looked around again, trying to figure which part of the train he hopped onto. "Yeah," he replied softly.
He should probably start heading to the front, considering he was pretty far back. Having been at the front of a train car, he looked at the gap he had to jump over to get to the next one a bit leerily.
"Better do it before the train gains more momentum, Mattheus."
Honestly, he was tempted to just stay outside until they arrived at the next station about half an hour later. Still, Mattheus resigned himself and picked the cat up before train hopping.
It was simultaneously easier and harder compared to doing it on a New York City subway car. For one, it was a lot slower which made it easier. On the other hand, the cars at the end weren't designed to be traversed while the train was moving.
He had to vault over two rail guards.
Ah, well. This was still safer than grabbing onto the ladder at the side of the car and swinging onto the small platform at the end of a car like he did a few minutes earlier.
Mattheus thought of what he was going to do once back at the capital as he opened the door to the next car. He would be back a few days early but that was fine—he had already finished what he set out to do when heading to Noll's Hill.
It also meant the fervor of his Royal Appointment still hadn't died down completely but he could just hole up in the townhome until things blew over. Avoiding the attention wasn't his actual reason for coming to Noll's Hill but an excuse he gave to his family in any case.
Feeling eyes on him by the rather crowded coach car with rows of riders, he just tugged the lip of his hat down. There wasn't much he could do to blend in, considering how different the fabrics and quality of his clothes were compared to the passengers in this car.
And, well, he was holding a large and fluffy smoky-blue cat in one arm. Mattheus had gotten used to the stares, quite frankly.
He just maintained a focused gaze to the front, reaching the end of the car before opening the door and repeated vaulting himself over to the next car.
"You've gotten more athletic," Brunilda complimented.
Mattheus just huffed in reply as he opened the door into the car. He had gotten on the second to last car so it was going to take a while before he arrived at the front, meaning he had to repeat this a few more times.
"Or I guess I should say you've regained some of your athleticism."
The young man was tempted to make a face. He had been far from an athlete Before but even being average was better than how pathetically unfit Mattheus Crown had been.
Brunilda suddenly cursed. "In front!"
At his friend's warning, he looked further down the car only to freeze.
Everyone had stared at his appearance just like in the last car. Only one of the faces was Benjamin Michaels.
Mattheus paled when he saw the spy look around and several other men started standing up. It looked like Michaels might have taken this train instead of the earlier one because he wanted to rendezvous with some buddies.
Rather burly buddies at that.