"An assassination attempt and murder in broad daylight," Caym's voice resonated through his study. He turned his stern gaze towards Knight Captain Ortis, the Head of the Guards. "Sir Ortis, how will you account for this failure?"
Ortis, standing before the Grand Commander, bowed his head. "It appears that the prolonged era of peace has made our guards complacent, Grand Commander. I will ensure they learn from this."
"Mmm." Caym's gaze returned to the papers in his hand as he continued, "Yet, you too were absent from your post despite having signed the logbook, Knight Captain."
"I-I briefly returned home, as my wife had recently given birth. She keeps looking for me. I-I left explicit instructions for my subordinates," Ortis explained, his voice quivering with nervous energy.
Caym responded sharply, "They evidently failed to heed your guidance."
Ortis swallowed hard, his voice strained as he spoke, "I will make amends for my lapse—"
"Indeed, you shall," Caym interjected, his tone leaving no room for argument. "All the guards who abandoned their posts have been relieved of their duties. Your position remains secure, Knight Captain, given your battlefield experience."
Caym lifted his gaze, locking it firmly onto Ortis. "However, any further transgressions will result in much harsher consequences, Sir Ortis," he warned.
Ortis clenched his fists at his sides, a surge of resentment coursing through him. "Why must I submit to someone a decade my junior? He only ascended to the role of Grand Commander through his mentor's influence," he thought, the bitterness weighing on him.
Caym's rapid ascent to the position of Grand Commander, merely within two years, was an extraordinary feat, albeit one that raised eyebrows among his peers. His journey to this prestigious rank was not conventional.
It began with a recommendation from his mentor, who passed away shortly after bestowing this responsibility upon him. Even before, at the level of Lieutenant, Caym was considered unusually young to have achieved such a significant rank.
The resentment harbored by many was palpable, intensified by the fact that Caym shared striking similarities with the former Grand Commander.
Both leaders had a tendency to assign Guardian Knights with questionable backgrounds, a practice that only fueled the discontent not only within the ranks, but also among the aristocrats.
Despite Caym's prowess as a grim reaper on the battlefield, his quick rise to power led to the premature resignations of several seasoned Knight Captains.
Their departure left a void that was now filled by a wave of new, untested knights, further adding to the tension and uncertainty within the order.
As Ortis raised his eyes to meet Caym's piercing gaze, an icy shiver coursed down his spine. Caym Fairburne seemed to read his innermost thoughts with a single glance.
Uncontrollably, Ortis's knees began to quiver.
"Ensure that everything proceeds without a hitch. Any further failures will not be tolerated," Caym declared firmly.
"Y-Yes, sir," Ortis stammered.
"You are dismissed," Caym ordered, his authority unwavering.
With a curt nod, Ortis swiftly turned on his heel and exited the chamber, his footsteps echoing through the corridor.
Just as he departed, the door swung open, revealing Lieutenant Tassis.
"Are you sure you're just going to let him go? His face was practically screaming hate," Hector remarked, gesturing in the direction Ortis had left as he closed the door behind him.
Caym continued to peruse his documents, his focus undisturbed. "Who said I will let him go?" he inquired without looking up.
"Tss," Hector hissed under his breath as he made himself comfortable on the sofa. "What did he have to say about the incident, though?"
"He placed the blame on his subordinates. And his wife," Caym replied, finally raising his gaze. "But why are you disturbing me here, Lieutenant?"
Hector nonchalantly shrugged. "I've just finished my lunch. I needed a place to sit down," he explained.
Caym shot Hector an irritated glance. He longed to succumb to his growing anger, but he reasoned it was not worth the effort.
"Tell me how the investigation with the intruder is going," Caym demanded.
Hector's nonchalant demeanor quickly transformed into seriousness. He straightened his posture, his expression grave. "There was no sign of resistance. It appears the dressmaker took her own life," he reported.
"Go on," Caym urged.
"It seems your suspicion was correct, Commander. The poison she died from is present in the needles found in her bag. Moreover, the crime scene is not an isolated area. Anyone meeting her there would have been witnessed. It's evident that this was orchestrated to create chaos within the Imperial Palace," Hector explained.
"And the poison?" Caym inquired.
"I believe the doctor said it was called 'Red Lily.' He also mentioned it's a poison that induces a painless death, like simply to slipping into eternal sleep. However, it's exceedingly rare and expensive. The doctor has requested more time to confirm its authenticity," Hector answered.
"And the woman's identity?" Caym pressed on.
Hector sighed deeply. "The woman was indeed an apprentice of the royal dressmaker," he confirmed.
"Have you contacted the dressmaker?" Caym asked.
"Yes," Hector shook his head. "However, the dressmaker has recently given birth and cannot be brought in for interrogation. I've dispatched a team to keep a close watch on her and her family."
Caym sighed as he leaned back in his chair, his mind working through the details. "Any additional information?"
Hector hesitated before replying, "The apprentice was an orphan. She had been under the care of the dressmaker for the past ten years."
The room fell silent, the only sound echoing from Caym's fingertip tapping the table rhythmically.
"Who do you believe might have sent her, Commander?" Hector inquired, his brows furrowing.
"I can think of a hundred people who would," Caym replied.
The chair creaked against the floor as Caym pushed it away from the table, standing up.
"Where are you going? You're just going to leave me here?" Hector questioned.
"Who said someone can stay here without me?" Caym retorted as he walked purposefully toward the door.
Hector let out a sigh. "I must say, I love your sofa," he remarked casually, rising from his seat.
"Take it if that would prevent you from coming back," Caym replied dryly, his hand on the doorknob and closed the door behind him.
"That somehow sounded offensive," Hector murmured, following after Caym. Just as he closed the door, Hector caught sight of Caym pausing in the hallway, his gaze fixed on something outside the window.
Intrigued by Caym's reaction, Hector stepped closer, his eyes narrowing inquisitively as he followed Caym's line of sight. There, in the distance, he saw the familiar figure with silver hair being carried delicately, her arms entwined around the neck of a resolute female knight.
Hector slowly turned his gaze back to Caym, his curiosity piqued.
"Hmm," Caym said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips before he turned away and continued walking.
"What?" Hector asked himself, his brow raised.