Chapter : 15
“What do you mean…?”
“Are you pretending not to know? Every direct line member of Eisenbold knows the Drarnarvon family has been secretly embezzling funds.”
“…”
“You turned a blind eye because the amount wasn’t large, and because the workload the Drarnarvon family was carrying alone was murderous. And since every investment proposal from Drarnarvon ended well, it was quietly tolerated as if it were a kind of incentive. I’m pretty sure there’s a record of a conversation between a Drarnarvon ancestor and an Eisenbold ancestor about that, isn’t there?”
Unlike Cleora, who tilted her head and smiled sweetly, Calypsen’s eyes shook wildly.
Up until now, all the questions regarding the embezzlement had simply been procedural confirmations.
But Cleora’s words weren’t like that.
She spoke with certainty.
How she knew was a mystery, but one thing was clear—nothing good would come from that truth being exposed.
“Something like that…”
“You’re not going to say it isn’t true, are you? I know exactly where that document is. Oh, perhaps you don’t? Should I tell you?”
“…”
“In the vault under Avon Territory’s—”
“Stop!”
Calypsen gritted his teeth and forcefully cut Cleora off, then smiled awkwardly as if he’d never been angry.
“H-how about we stop here?”
“How about… we stop here?”
Her dragging voice caught his tail end of speech, and Calypsen swallowed hard.
To think he, a grown man, would be flustered by a child.
With great effort, he forced his mouth into a smile.
“H… how shall we… stop?”
“Hm.”
Cleora snorted softly, rested her elbows on the table, and propped up her chin.
Her red eyes slowly roamed Calypsen’s face.
Her gaze looked indifferent—yet pierced right through him. Calypsen swallowed once more.
“Viscount Drarnarvon.”
“W-why… I mean, yes.”
“You tolerated the Drarnarvon family’s embezzlement because there was a reason. But unless you’ve achieved something truly spectacular in the meantime, acting like it’s seventy years ago is a serious mistake. Understand?”
“…I understand.”
“Sure, the direct line is dead and gone, so you might assume the key to the vault under Avon Castle is gone too. But pretending to be a loyal retainer sacrificing everything for a declining Eisenbold? That hypocrisy disgusts me.”
A thin layer of fury ran through her voice, and Calypsen bit down on his lips.
“It also looked like your current head knows nothing of this embezzlement. Shall I tell him?”
A chill ran down Calypsen’s spine. Eisenbold was desperately short on funds.
If this became known now, the outrage would be unimaginable.
Not just he—his family, his children would not survive.
Unable to face that fate, Calypsen dropped to his knees.
“Please, anything but that…! What must I do?”
“What do you mean, what? You commit a crime, you take the punishment.”
“Then my family will—”
Cleora smiled, and the blood drained from his face.
“People are funny. They know they’re doing wrong, but when caught they beg for forgiveness. You already know how this ends, don’t you?”
“Please…”
“You want to live?”
Her voice came flat and careless, as if bored.
Calypsen jerked his head up, nodding frantically. Cleora’s lips curled up.
“Then return every coin embezzled over the past seventy years. You can do that, right?”
“T-that…”
“Shall I report it?”
“…I will return it. Even if it costs my life.”
“Good. That’s more like it. And sever every dealing with the investment fronts you’ve been using to funnel money out.”
“But…”
“Viscount.”
Cleora’s face hardened at Calypsen’s timid protest.
“Do I look like a joke to you?”
The lamplight flickered—and the long shadow on the floor surged upward.
Startled, Calypsen fell backward, but the shadow paid him no mind, filling the room.
In the darkness, Cleora’s red eyes glowed coldly.
“Do I look like someone who’d be satisfied with a few apologies and a few coins?”
Calypsen froze as the atmosphere turned lethal.
“Betraying your house is treachery, but using your house for your own gain is rebellion. You wasted the treasury on garbage and dare say ‘but’? Would you say the same if your children’s severed heads were hung outside the gates as warning?”
“…”
“I’ll give you two days. Bring everything you siphoned off—every last coin. Fail, or hold back a single penny, and before your head falls, you’ll watch the blood of everyone you hold dear stain the floor.”
The shadow slowly receded to its place.
A terror unlike anything he’d ever felt.
The chilling dread of staring into an abyss darker than darkness.
Sweating, Calypsen swallowed.
“You understand, Viscount?”
“Y-yes…? O-of course.”
“If you think I’m bluffing, feel free to test me. I trust you know the price.”
Cleora finally softened her expression.
“There’s no need to look so scared. Just do what I told you. Isn’t that simple?”
“Y-yes.”
“And I’m not heartless. I value roots. Whatever you’ve done, I don’t deny the Drarnarvon family upheld Eisenbold behind the scenes for centuries.”
“…?”
“As long as you return the money properly, good things may happen for you. I guarantee it.”
Was this the same person threatening his family moments ago?
Calypsen tried to nod but Cleora spoke first.
“So go on now.”
She waved her hand like shooing a fly. Calypsen scrambled up, bowed deeply, and hurried toward the door.
But then, hesitating, he looked back.
“Um…”
“Mm?”
“Of course… tonight’s events are a secret?”
By “tonight’s events,” he didn’t mean the conversation—he meant the… shadow.
Cleora blinked, then smiled.
“No, feel free to spread it around.”
“…What?”
“Everyone will see it soon enough.”
Her smile vanished.
“They’ll witness what becomes of those who betray my house.”
“…”
“So consider yourself lucky.”
Her final, icy words cut through the air.
“Had you learned later, it’d be your head mounted at the gates.”
The door shut with a sharp click.
In the duke’s private lounge, Eanoc glanced up at the silent newcomer—Reginald.
His half-ruined face made Eanoc smirk.
‘I will uncover everything about that girl!’
Eanoc twisted his lips, staring.
“Didn’t go well, I take it.”
“…My apologies.”
“It’s fine. I wasn’t expecting much.”
“Haa—”
Reginald’s sigh seemed deep enough to crack the floor. Eanoc rubbed his cheekbone.
What happened to get that reaction?
Eanoc raised a brow, and Reginald spoke cautiously.
“She’s stronger than expected. That girl.”
“Why? Still insisting her name is Cleora?”
“If it were just the name, it’d be a blessing. I think she actually believes she is Cleora.”
Reginald recalled the conversation, shuddering.
‘Ask whatever you want. I’ll answer truthfully.’
‘Name? Cleora Vern. Age? I guess I look about fifteen now? I died at twenty-eight and it’s been roughly seventy years, so call it ninety-eight.’
‘Family? Parents dead, older brother dead. As for relatives—there were many, but they betrayed me and ran off with my fortune. Not many left.’
‘Birthplace? Western Empire of Neirad, in the Eisenbold Duchy of Rubendel.’
‘What did I do before coming here? Mm, fought alongside Keleagos, that’s about it.’
‘Friends? Not really. Enemies I can think of plenty. Want the list? Bring a large sheet of paper.’
‘Why am I here? The war’s over. Going home is natural, isn’t it? Actually, why is this not my house anymore?’
‘Who’s backing me? Seriously, ask properly or torture me or something. Who answers when you ask so casually? Huh?’
‘How many times do I have to say it. I am Cleora. What? Stop fooling around? Why you brat—! Is that how you talk to an elder!? Back in my day…!’
Astonishingly, every absurd line burned itself into his brain.
Pressing a hand to his throbbing temple, Reginald groaned.
“…We might as well give up. You can’t reason with her.”
