Chapter: 13
“We’ve found Lady Winiel!”
At his subordinate’s report, Tristan headed toward the fountain.
However, for someone who had just been told that the escaped suspect had been found, his expression was far from pleased.
What a pity. It would have been better if she’d simply run away like this.
In truth, Tristan was not at all happy about Winiel being discovered.
To corner her, he had played a major card—black magic. He knew it was dangerous, but there was no quicker or more effective way to deal with her.
However, in moving so quickly, he had been forced to persuade one of his subordinates to cooperate.
He’s someone whose theft I once overlooked. He won’t dare speak of this anywhere.
Though he had chosen the most suitable man, Tristan couldn’t shake off his unease.
The mere fact that someone else knew about this bothered him.
So when he heard that Winiel had disappeared, he had been genuinely delighted.
If the prime suspect ran away, it was practically an admission of guilt.
If the case had been wrapped up quickly, I could’ve dealt with that knight brat sooner too.
It was truly regrettable.
“Lord Tristan, you’ve arrived!”
When Tristan reached the fountain, the gathered servants acknowledged him.
“I heard Lady Winiel has been found.”
“Yes, she’s over there. But…”
Where the servant pointed, Winiel was struggling against the knight trying to seize her.
“I—I have something to say…! Even if I get dragged away, I have to say this!”
Her desperate cry was filled with fear.
The brat looks quite pitiful.
Tristan suppressed a laugh.
Seeing the audacious little nuisance who had interfered with his plans wailing like this was quite a sight.
No—if anything, it was entertaining enough that he wanted to watch longer.
“Oh my, what is it you wish to say, Lady Winiel?”
With a gentle smile, Tristan approached Winiel and the knight.
Once she’s dragged away, it’ll all be over.
Since it had come to this, he wanted to enjoy the moment.
The regret he’d felt earlier at her being found had already vanished.
“If it’s alright, I’ll hear you out.”
He already knew what she would say.
She’ll claim she didn’t do it.
And when that failed, she would grow even more desperate and burst into tears. The thought was satisfying.
“Ah, um… well…”
Winiel trembled.
Naturally so.
Everyone gathered there was staring at her sharply, as if ready to pass judgment.
“Please, speak calmly.”
Tristan deliberately stepped aside so all eyes would be on her. Winiel’s body stiffened.
“S-So, the thing is…”
Her gaze dropped to the ground, as though hesitating.
Yet, as if she truly had something to say, she began haltingly.
“I… I tried to run away because I was scared… but I think I still need to say this…”
Then she looked at the knight holding her—the very knight Tristan had ordered.
“Actually, I—I saw this man using black magic…! He threatened me, saying something terrible would happen if I didn’t keep quiet…!”
“What!? When did I ever—!”
The knight shouted, cutting her off.
“B-But you told me to say it appeared suddenly! And now you’re trying to pin it all on me…!”
Winiel cried out, doing her best despite her frightened appearance.
“Have you gone mad!?”
“Calm yourself. Step back for now. Lady Winiel, is that true?”
Tristan asked, restraining the agitated knight.
So she’s trying to escape the situation by lying, is she? Clever.
Though surprised by her unexpected claim, Tristan remained composed. A lie of that level was still within his control.
“Yes, it’s true!”
“Then do you have any proof?”
“…Proof?”
“It’s suspicious to change your story so suddenly. I believe we would need evidence to trust your claim.”
Winiel visibly faltered.
Of course she has none.
That was the nature of black magic. It left no trace—that was what made it useful.
Tristan looked at her leisurely.
At that moment, Winiel nodded resolutely.
“Yes, I do. I heard that traces remain on the pen used for black magic. If you examine it, you’ll find them!”
“…!”
W-What!?
Tristan’s eyes widened.
Traces remain on the pen? Impossible. I’ve never heard of such a thing!
There was no need to panic. It had to be a lie.
She’s just saying whatever she can to get out of this.
Swallowing hard, Tristan hid his agitation. His Adam’s apple bobbed.
“Haha… Lady Winiel must be mistaken. Black magic leaves no trace. That’s why it’s always such a headache.”
“That’s what people say, but I heard otherwise. I am a saint candidate, after all.”
A crack formed in Tristan’s smile.
She must have heard it at the temple.
The temple stands against black magic. If such words came from there…
Then it might not be a lie.
“Really? Wow, the temple must be working hard to eliminate black magic.”
“Then does that mean it truly wasn’t Lady Winiel? That she was framed?”
“Honestly, I did think it was strange that she summoned a monster and then defeated it herself.”
The crowd began murmuring. Mention of the temple seemed to lend credibility.
A chill ran down Tristan’s spine. At this rate, his guilt would be exposed.
No, it’s still fine. If the pen is the evidence, I just need to find it and destroy it!
Calming himself, Tristan replayed the moment he had signed the black magic circle drawn on paper.
But he only remembered using the fountain pen. He couldn’t recall where he had put it afterward.
“…”
As he sank into thought, his brow furrowed naturally.
“Are you worried you won’t be able to find the pen…?”
Winiel tilted her head and asked cautiously.
“Pardon?”
“We need the pen to check for traces.”
“…Ah, yes. Indeed. It would be difficult to know which pen the culprit used.”
Regaining himself, Tristan answered.
That’s right! No one saw me sign it. Not even that knight!
Realizing this crucial fact, Tristan regained his composure.
But only briefly.
Her next words made his heart plummet again.
“Don’t worry! I know which one it is!”
“…You know the pen?”
“Yes, I found it and entrusted it to someone trustworthy!”
Winiel nodded confidently, then called out to the servants.
“Young Master!”
The crowd parted, revealing a black-haired boy.
“…”
Cain looked at Winiel with clear displeasure.
As if he had run there, his shoulders moved lightly with his breath.
“The fountain pen I gave you—you still have it, right?”
“….”
…Nod.
“May I show it to Lord Tristan?”
Cain took the fountain pen from his pocket and handed it over obediently.
Though he didn’t look pleased, his gaze remained fixed on Winiel.
“Wow, you kept it! Thank you!”
Unaware—or perhaps uncaring—of his mood, Winiel accepted the pen and turned back to Tristan.
“This is it. The pen used for black magic. I confirmed the trace of black magic with my divine power.”
She held it up toward Tristan.
“…!”
For a moment, it felt as though Tristan’s breath had stopped.
Why is that there!?
His name was clearly engraved on the fountain pen.
“Wait, isn’t that Lord Tristan’s pen?”
“I think it is. His name’s written on it!”
The servants glanced at him after spotting the name “Tristan.”
Tristan clenched his teeth.
You dare suspect me over something like this? Ungrateful fools! Do you know how much vacation and special bonuses I’ve poured out for you!
He had tried to win their favor while spreading rumors about Cain—but thanks to that, the duke’s estate was in shambles.
With servants constantly taking leave, there weren’t enough workers. Yet because of the special bonuses, there was no money to hire more.
And who was carrying the burden to keep the estate from collapsing?
Tristan barely restrained himself from glaring at them.
If I lose my temper now, I’ll fall right into their trap.
Had she planned this from the start? What a cunning little brat.
He shot Winiel a sharp look.
Just then—
“Everyone, please don’t say it was Lord Tristan.”
Winiel stepped forward, stopping the servants instead.
“Just because his name is on the pen doesn’t guarantee he used it. I only detected traces of black magic. To know who used it, we’d have to entrust it to a mage.”
Public opinion flipped instantly.
“That’s… true.”
“Come to think of it, she said someone else used black magic.”
Tristan looked at Winiel suspiciously.
Why is she helping me?
But admitting he had used it himself would be madness.
At this rate, I’ll have to postpone dealing with this brat.
Though anger boiled inside him, survival came first.
And Tristan was someone who could cut cleanly and turn away for the sake of what came next.
“It seems my fountain pen has been missing for some time. I must have been robbed.”
He looked at the knight he had instigated.
The knight flinched, turning pale as he stared at Tristan.
You’re selling me out? his eyes seemed to say.
But Tristan ignored him.
“Take him away. I will interrogate him personally.”
“W-What are you saying! This is all—mmph!”
At Tristan’s gesture, the knight was gagged and dragged off.
“Thank you. If not for you, Lady Winiel, this could have been disastrous. I apologize for unjustly imprisoning you.”
Tristan tried to wrap things up quickly.
He could not allow the pen to be examined.
But just as the situation seemed to be settling, Winiel timidly spoke again.
“But… you’re believing me so easily now. Yesterday, you didn’t.”
“My apologies. He was a subordinate I had known for a long time. I must have lost my judgment.”
“Even so, objectively speaking, my words aren’t that trustworthy either…”
“Since it’s true that you defeated the monster, everyone believes in you as a saint candidate.”
“I see…”
Winiel hummed thoughtfully.
Then, as if reaching a decision, she stepped forward with determination.
“In that case, please examine the fountain pen thoroughly. I don’t just want people to take my word for it—I want to prove it with evidence!”
