Eventually, the carriage halted in front of a grand mansion set in the inner ward of the royal district. Massive marble columns soared, supporting an ornate roof, while intricately carved stone walls rose behind them—stained glass windows hinting at the luxury within.
Joseph stepped down, and the mansion's doors immediately swung open. A handful of servants hurried out to greet him, bowing respectfully.
"Welcome home, Master Joseph," the head servant said in a gentle voice. "Everyone is waiting for you in the dining room."
Joseph nodded. "I'll join them right away."
He moved briskly through the mansion's entry hall, which was lavishly adorned with plush red velvet sofas, carved mahogany tables, famous paintings, and a chandelier glittering overhead. Mouthwatering scents wafted from the dining area—reminding him he hadn't eaten.
He soon arrived at the dining room where his family was already seated, waiting patiently. At the head of the table sat his father, Richard Cavendish—a tall, broad-shouldered man of fifty-five, with light blond hair salted by gray. Thick eyebrows slightly knitted in thought, but a warm smile lit his lips the moment he saw his son. Their matching pale-blue eyes shone with fatherly pride, while Richard's navy-blue attire further emphasized his stately bearing.
Seated to Richard's right was Joseph's mother, Lady Alice. She was a slender woman, age having refined her features into a dignified grace. One could imagine her youthful beauty in days long past. A gentle smile curved her lips as she observed her son. Her hair was swept up in an elegant bun, and an emerald-green gown brought out the sparkle of her matching green eyes. Pearls adorned her neck, heightening her refined air.
To the left sat Joseph's wife, Rebecca. She was a young woman with chestnut-red hair flowing down to her waist, tanned skin suggesting a past of simpler, more sun-soaked living. Her large green eyes glittered with both cheer and intelligence as she regarded her husband with fondness. A radiant smile transformed her charming face.
"Sorry to keep everyone waiting," Joseph said, greeting the family with a quick bow.
"No worries at all, dear," Lady Alice replied. "Your father was just about to bring something up. Come, have a seat."
Joseph slid into the chair beside his wife. At his arrival, Rebecca's full lips curved into a warmer smile, though concern clouded her gaze when she noted his weary countenance.
"My love…" she said softly, gently brushing his cheek. "You seem tired. Was work especially busy today?"
He shook his head, offering her a faint, reassuring smile. "I've had a lot on my mind, but nothing to worry about."
Rebecca said nothing more, although doubt lingered in her eyes. She chose to let it pass unchallenged for now.
"Don't push yourself too hard," she murmured, giving his hand a slight squeeze before returning her focus to the dinner that lay before them.
Joseph squeezed her hand back, a silent thanks for her understanding. He then looked around the table, noting that three chairs remained empty. One was reserved for Miranda—his older sister serving at the northern border—and the other two stayed perpetually vacant: one for his uncle Edward, who had stepped away and never returned to the family circle, and another for Edward's daughter, Isabel, Yet Richard always left the seats ready, hoping that one day, they would all be together again.
Richard cleared his throat, drawing the family's attention. "I have an important announcement tonight."
Joseph arched an eyebrow. "What is it, Father?" He noticed a hint of anxiety in his father's eyes.
Lady Alice placed her hand gently over her husband's, smiling encouragingly. "It's something quite significant."
Taking a breath, Richard continued, "I just received word from Miranda. She's on her way home from her post on the northern front. With the war effectively over after six long years—and the other side finally paying war reparations—the official peace treaty has gone through."
"That's wonderful news," Rebecca exclaimed brightly, then turned to Joseph. "Any idea when she'll arrive?"
Joseph felt warmth surge through him at the thought of seeing his sister again. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "She didn't give us an exact date."
"Your sister truly is remarkable," Rebecca said, letting admiration slip into her voice. "I heard she was promoted to Major General not long ago. She must've endured a lot out there."
Joseph nodded. "Yeah, I'm really proud of her. Not just because she's my sister—Miranda is honestly one of the kingdom's finest female officers."
Richard beamed. "She does our Cavendish name proud. Still, I wish she could enjoy a bit more rest."
"I miss her, too," Alice remarked softly, her gaze distant with longing for her daughter.
A silence fell over them. Not only did they yearn for Miranda, but for other absent family members. Eventually, Richard's voice broke the hush, tinged with sadness.
"Tonight… I wish the entire family could be here, all at once."
Sensing the gloom settling in, Joseph aimed to lift everyone's spirits. "I believe the day will come when our family is truly whole again. And when it does, we'll celebrate in full!"
Lady Alice gave her son a grateful smile and rose to her feet, motioning toward the set table. "Thank you, dear. Now, why don't we enjoy this special meal your father and I prepared for you all?"
A chorus of affirmatives sounded around the table. Alice rang a small bell, summoning the servants who entered with elegant trolleys. As they laid out dishes and set the table, Joseph and Richard spoke briefly about Joseph's work while Rebecca observed the bustle with quiet delight.
Even though not everyone was home yet, sharing this meal brought a comforting sense of unity. And in their hearts, they all felt that same quiet hope: that one day, they would all be gathered here again—no empty seats left behind.
—-
A new day dawned under dreary skies. The city was blanketed by dark clouds, carrying moisture in the damp air. Nevertheless, morning activity in the capital pressed on; people hustled about, attending to their daily affairs. Charles set out to the guild, threading his way through the bustling crowds in the streets.
Upon entering the main doors—carved wood that opened onto the guild's spacious foyer—Charles was greeted by a clamor of voices from members seeking jobs. Some recognized him and waved a casual greeting, which he returned with a polite nod.
While he roamed through the hall, Charles spotted a familiar face: a tall, lean man in a gray outfit—Matthew, another detective who worked closely with the guild. Known for a sharp investigative mind, Matthew looked oddly on edge, despite his usual calm manner.
"Early start today, huh?" Matthew greeted him gently, though worry flickered behind his eyes.
"Morning," Charles replied. "Yeah, hoping to find a decent-paying job. Are you all right? You seem a bit worn out."
Matthew heaved a sigh. At Charles's concerned prompt, he suggested moving to a bench outside so they could talk more privately.
"I'm on a difficult case," Matthew said heavily. "The victim was a young woman who was assaulted and killed. From what I can gather, the suspect might be someone powerful in that region."
Charles's eyes narrowed. "How far along are you in the investigation?"
"I'm searching for evidence, but the deeper I dig, the more I sense something is off. I'm worried about high-level meddling, or worse—some big shot might be protecting the culprit. There's a real risk of intimidation or hush money if anyone crucial to the case tries to come forward."
He leaned back against the bench, looking weary. "I'm concerned that they'll either bribe or threaten any vital witnesses. Our best lead might vanish overnight."
Charles let that sink in. "Sounds like a huge case. Do you think you'll uncover the truth? And… are you going to be safe?"
Matthew gave a morose half-smile. "I'll do what I must. It's our job as detectives to pursue the facts, especially for the victim and her grieving family. Even if the risk is high, I can't just abandon it."
Charles admired his friend's bravery, though he fretted over the dangers. They fell silent for a spell. At last, Matthew stood, shoulders lifting with resolve.
"I'd better get back to my inquiries," he said. "Wish me luck. You be careful too, okay? Don't go taking on anything too dangerous."
He waved goodbye, disappearing from the guild grounds. Charles watched him go, heart tightening with both concern and admiration. If the chance arose in the future, he told himself, he'd help Matthew in any way he could.
Stepping back inside, Charles wandered over to the enormous job board listing all sorts of requests—from stolen objects and marital disputes to security assignments and bounties on criminals. He browsed idly, scanning each notice. Eventually, his gaze caught on one labeled Missing Person:
Missing: Roland Bradford, Age 42. Last seen two weeks ago. Any leads appreciated—reward is 100 crusédo.
Below the text was a sketch of a stout, middle-aged man with a fair complexion and light brown hair. Right beside that announcement was another notice, this one looking slightly newer:
Urgent! Seeking assistance in finding a missing person: Michael Berg, Age 45, a physician.
Further details described Michael as tall and tan, dark-haired with a neatly trimmed beard, distinguished by a large mole under his right eye. He typically wore a long brown coat and kept a leather pouch at his waist for medical supplies.
According to the notice, Michael had vanished mysteriously a week prior, leaving behind a wife and children. The family had alerted the authorities, but there had been no trace of him since. Interestingly enough, the reward they offered for any solid lead was an impressive 200 crusédo—double the sum for locating Roland Bradford.
Charles's eyebrows rose. "Two hundred crusédo… quite the incentive," he murmured. A middle-aged physician disappearing without a trace certainly sounded suspicious. Perhaps Michael fled to hide some secret, or perhaps he had been abducted or worse. It might even involve shadowy enemies or debt collectors.
Ultimately, Charles resolved to take the case. He visited the guild's front desk, confirming his decision and filling out the necessary forms. With the relevant documents in hand, he left the building, determined that his first step was to speak with Michael's family. Surely they had more details that might guide him to the missing doctor's whereabouts—or at least provide some clue as to what had driven him to vanish into thin air.