"Understood. But I fear I cannot wait long. I am simply famished."
"Attendant! Guide our guests to the reception room and arrange for some food, quickly!"
Zakail barked the orders, his voice nervous. The elderly attendant barely poked his head through the door before scurrying to obey. "Yes, sir!"
Zakail watched the guests depart before swiftly washing his face and changing his clothes. He had thought the world would be his once the funeral was over, but what was happening on this very first day? A chilling premonition slithered down his spine, and he shivered, lowering his head.
'No. If I think I'm unlucky, it will only bring bad luck. I must remain positive.'
Hadn't they said they were members of the Cavalry sent by the Duke of Peletta? Their purpose for visiting was clear. He had been told such people would come soon.
Everything was already in place. It was just that their arrival was slightly—very slightly—earlier than expected.
Taking a deep breath, Zakail entered the reception room. While he had been preparing himself, the uninvited guests had already made themselves comfortable in the fine chairs that hadn't been burned, and they were now leisurely clearing the dishes in front of them.
"Yuder, you should try this. It's my first time having it, but it's quite good."
"Indeed. It's an eastern dish called Koakat. They say it's delicious in stew."
The speed at which they were devouring the food was astonishing. No matter how fast the cook brought out the dishes, they disappeared just as quickly. The sight was almost dizzying. Zakail managed to clear his throat, catching the attention of the unwelcome guests.
"It seems... the food agrees with you. That's a relief."
"Yes, thanks to you."
Yuder, who had been waiting for Zakail, responded leisurely. His demeanor was so calm, it felt as if he were the host, causing Zakail's eyes to twitch involuntarily.
"Now that you've eaten your fill... we should discuss the matters at hand."
"Ah, I intended to, but another dish has just arrived. Let's finish this first."
Yuder gestured toward the cook, who entered with another dish at the perfect moment.
The cook, who was unsure of what to do in the presence of Zakail, gingerly placed the new dish on the table. Jimmy and Gakane immediately lunged at it with their forks, while Nahan coolly grabbed a large piece of meat and quickly devoured it.
Watching them ignore proper etiquette and feast on the food, Yuder felt an odd satisfaction. The more pride people had in their noble status, the more disconcerted they became by such unrefined behavior. They weren't accustomed to holding back their disdain when faced with something displeasing.
"This is excellent. Perfectly grilled with just the right amount of sauce. I might fall in love with eastern cuisine. Yuder, are you sure you don't want any more?"
Gakane, whose casual demeanor barely hinted at his noble birth, chewed his vegetables with enthusiasm. He offered Yuder a piece of meat.
"Here, ah."
"Oh, dear..."
The servants' expressions shifted, clearly embarrassed by the shockingly improper behavior. It was an act that even commoners would avoid in polite company. Their roles had been utterly reversed.
'Gakane. He's quite good at this,'
He knew his nobles well, and in this instance, Gakane's understanding of them shone through. Internally, Yuder admired Gakane's newfound skill and resolved to follow his lead.
Gakane flashed a warm, genuine smile as he accepted the piece of meat offered to him. His strikingly handsome features, radiant as a rose, seemed to brighten the room with his smile.
"Is it good?"
"Mmm,"
"Yuder! Try mine too! You really need to taste it!" Jimmy exclaimed, offering a bite of his own dish.
Although Yuder was already quite full, he accepted the food without hesitation, knowing that it might cause further discomfort to their uneasy hosts.
The newly prepared dishes were quickly devoured by the group.
"Now... may we clear the table and discuss the matter at hand?" Zakail, who had been sitting apart from the others, finally spoke, his face sour and his tone reluctant.
Yuder noticed the distaste in Zakail's expression as he struggle to speak, nodded. "Of course."
As the servants cleared the table, Yuder briefly introduced himself and explained the reason for his visit. When he mentioned that he had come in search of Devran Hartude, Zakail's lips tightened, and he nodded slowly.
"Devran Hartude... yes, I remember him. He was here not long ago."
"That will help expedite things. Where is he now?"
"He's dead."
"Excuse me?"
The question came not from Yuder but from Gakane, whose expression had turned fierce. He glared at Zakail.
"What do you mean? Devran is dead?"
"Precisely. Do you know that he was trying to burn down our peaceful Hartan?"
"I heard about it on my way here, but Devran isn't like that. Why would he want to burn down his own hometown, where his family lives?"
"I don't know either. I was away on errands for my father in another village when it happened. All I know is what I heard after I returned."
He paused, lowering his gaze as if carefully choosing his words.
"He killed his family himself, then fled to this castle and set it ablaze. My sick father couldn't escape in time, and my sister and brother-in-law, who tried to save him, were caught in the fire as well. My older brother, a knight, couldn't return immediately. After the funeral yesterday, he had to leave on urgent business. He said he'll be back in a few days."
Zakail's expression turned sorrowful, his voice heavy with grief. To anyone watching, he appeared as a noble young man devastated by the loss of his family.
"As the youngest son, who was never fully involved in family affairs, what can I do alone? The best I could manage was to gather the townspeople and hold the funeral. I was waiting for my brother to return so we could discuss the matter and send a report to the capital... I never imagined you would come looking for us so soon."
"I understand the situation. But you still haven't explained why Devran is dead."
At Yuder's calm response, Zakail furrowed his brows.
"Have you not figured it out yet? He took his own life yesterday. After being sentenced to death, it seems he gave up and died right away in jail. Though he was a condemned prisoner, since he had once served under Duke Peletta, we intended to report to the Duke first before carrying out the execution... but this turn of events has left me with quite a headache."
There were no immediate flaws in Zakail's explanation. Everything sounded plausible.
'Except, of course, for the glaring question of why Devran would kill his family and set fire to his home...'
Yuder's gaze sharpened, studying Zakail's weary face as if trying to peel back the layers of his words to uncover the truth.
"Understood. So, after your elder brother returns and assumes the lordship, you'll officially begin the reporting and follow-up procedures?"
"No, not exactly."
Zakail shook his head at Yuder's question.
"It's true we plan to proceed with the reporting and follow-up once my brother returns, but as for the lordship... I will likely be the one to take that position."
Zakail paused for a moment before continuing.
"My brother is already established within the Silver Cross Knights. Despite his youth, he's highly skilled and has risen to the rank of deputy commander. It's expected that, in a few years, he'll become the commander and receive the title of viscount. Taking over a small territory like this would be more of a hindrance than a help to him."
"Your brother seems remarkable,"
"Indeed. His dream, ever since he was young, was to leave this small, dull place and become an exceptional knight. So, it will fall to me, someone quite... different from him, to stay behind."
For the first time, Zakail's furrowed brow relaxed, and he smiled. In his eyes, Yuder caught a mixture of jealousy and admiration.
'Jealousy...'
Zakail Hartan, the youngest son of the former lord. According to eastern customs, as the youngest, he would typically inherit nothing but his noble status. Yet, after the fire a few days ago, he found himself in line to inherit the title of lord.
The only person who seemed to have benefited from the recent tragic events was Zakail Hartan.
Could it all just be a coincidence?
'No.'
Yuder's instincts, honed through years of experience, told him otherwise. This couldn't be a mere accident. The man in front of him was hiding something, and within that secret lay the key to uncovering the truth about Devran.
'But he won't reveal it so easily. I'll have to bide my time.'
After gathering his thoughts, Yuder inclined his head slightly toward Zakail.
"I understand your situation. However, since we are here on the direct orders of Duke Peletta, it is difficult for us to leave immediately. We would like to continue our investigation and report back to the Duke. Would that be acceptable?"
Yuder intentionally referred to 'Duke' rather than 'Captain.' Whether the tactic worked or not, a fleeting look of unease crossed Zakail's face.
Regardless of how diminished the emperor's and Duke Peletta's influence might be in the east, their noble titles still carried weight. A minor noble like Zakail would inevitably feel pressured when confronted by someone of higher rank. It was one of the lessons Yuder had learned in his previous life about the psychology of nobles.
"...Do as you wish. I'll instruct the townspeople to cooperate with your investigation."
"I appreciate your understanding. We'll stay here for a while, then."