Chapter 31
Leon’s emotions were so palpable that Armian found himself unable to easily open his mouth.
He had no desire to deceive him, yet he feared that revealing he had once been enslaved by the Rohiltern family might bring harm to Bella.
The Empire still upheld the law of collective punishment. Simply disclosing what he had endured in the Rohiltern household would spell the downfall of the Count’s family name.
And as of now, Bella was still a Rohiltern.
Even though Armian remained silent, Leon pieced together the truth from the information at hand.
“So, you received the aid of Lady Rohiltern… which means you were there.”
“Yes.”
“What on earth happened there? Why—why did you remain hidden all this time? Did it never occur to you that we were desperately searching for you?”
“No. It did not.”
Leon’s brows furrowed in displeasure, then slackened at Armian’s next words.
“No… it was impossible. I didn’t even know who I was.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I had lost my memory. For the past year.”
“…”
“You look as though you don’t believe me.”
“Well, of course—”
“When that woman arrives, ask her. Ask if she knew I was the prince, or if she had no idea whatsoever.”
Unlike the prince, who had wandered aimlessly before finally arriving at the Duke of Dyurnar’s estate, the inspectors knew the direct route to the Rohiltern manor.
It would take them no more than a few hours to bring Bella back.
And that would be all the time needed to confirm whether the prince spoke the truth or not.
“Very well.”
He could wait.
“It may take some time to escort the young lady here. Would you care for a meal in the meantime?”
Armian glanced at the window. Instead of reflecting the world outside, the glass—made mirror-like by the bright interior—only cast back the image of the drawing room and of himself.
Leon had not mentioned it, but Armian’s own appearance was hardly fit for company: his hair disheveled, his body dusted with soot and grime from head to toe.
“No. I’d prefer to wash first… and change my clothes as well.”
In the cellar, Bella had only seen him bruised and battered, his skin torn from Charlotte’s blows, his body curled in upon itself as he slept.
But now, if he presented himself properly groomed and with his name proudly declared…
How astonished she will be.
Her wide eyes would remain speechless for a long moment. Bold as she was, she was not shameless; she would never feign nonchalance and claim she had already known.
“Understood. Jakob, attend His Highness during his bath.”
The servant thus summoned bowed deeply.
Armian, buoyed by the thought of Bella’s reaction, hummed softly as he followed the servant away.
So content was he that he failed to notice Leon’s steady gaze upon his back.
Providing him with food or clothing was no great sacrifice, yet watching Armian accept it all as though it were owed left Leon quietly exasperated.
As shameless as ever.
Perhaps this supposed change in him was merely Leon’s own misconception.
“You, prepare an appropriate set of garments for His Highness once he has bathed. Alter them as needed.”
“Yes, young master.”
He summoned the servant who managed his wardrobe and issued the instructions.
A few suits of clothing were a small price to pay to keep the prince in good humor.
Yet Armian’s good mood was soon shattered by a single report.
“Bella… Lady Rohiltern has vanished?”
Upon hearing the knight’s words, his face twisted in shock.
Barring unusual circumstances, the Rohiltern estate was shrouded in silence each night, for the Count despised noise.
But tonight was different.
“I know nothing of this!”
The man himself was the one causing the uproar.
In the grand hall of the first floor—the space guests would first step into upon entering the manor—the butler and several servants stood bound, encircled by two inspectors and their knights.
The Count, who had been captured and brought back after lingering near the estate while awaiting the inspectors’ departure, now leapt about, proclaiming his innocence.
“I was merely out on business today! I had no inkling the inspectors would arrive!”
He insisted that every event was a cruel twist of coincidence, denying all knowledge of the situation.
Inspector Roderick’s expression was one of weary indifference. He had encountered this performance from nobles countless times before.
Had the Count’s absence at such a critical moment truly been mere chance?
There was no way to verify such things. Thus, they always denied, no matter the truth.
Discarding this inevitable war of words, Roderick shifted to a matter where tangible evidence remained.
“Then why did you leave behind your seal?”
“I’ve told you time and again. For trivial family affairs, I often entrust that child with the seal before I leave.”
The Count exhaled sharply and displayed the documents taken from his study. Bella’s seal imprints, stamped with clumsy abandon, were plain to see.
“Look. These are insignificant papers, hardly worth my direct attention. That is why I left them to her.”
“So you are saying you temporarily delegated the family seal to Lady Rohiltern, and you knew nothing of any falsified ledgers or tax evasion?”
“Exactly! Had I known that child was conspiring with the butler to embezzle the family’s wealth, I would never have entrusted her with the seal!”
He raised his voice, demanding to be believed.
The butler, though berated mere inches from his face, did not so much as flinch.
It was better that he alone bear the blame. If the Count lost his title and fortune, there would be no one left to support the family.
But the inspectors were not deceived.
“So the Count trusted his niece implicitly?”
After all, one would never relinquish the family seal without profound trust.
“Yes.”
That meek admission was precisely the trap.
“Curious… that’s not what I’ve heard.”
Roderick’s lips curled into a cold smile as he gestured to a knight.
The knight stepped forward, leading in a man.
“Testify.”
It was the coachman from the House of Dyurnar.
Thanks to Charlotte’s selfish return home in her sullied dress, he had been the one to escort Bella back to the Rohiltern estate.
“I-I saw it clearly. The moment the carriage stopped, another young lady of this house dragged her away.”
The coachman’s lips trembled as he spoke.
“No one intervened. Lady Bella was screaming as she was taken, struck with open hands, yet everyone merely stood and watched.”
The helplessness of having witnessed such cruelty without being able to act returned to him now as bitter self-reproach.
When the coachman’s voice refused to steady, Roderick ordered the knight to escort him away again.
Once silence reclaimed the hall, Roderick spoke with quiet derision.
“How peculiar. If Lady Rohiltern truly enjoyed the Count’s trust, to the point of holding the family seal, one would expect her to have some standing within this household.”
The scene described by the coachman suggested she had been treated little better than livestock.
The butler, unable to refute this, pressed his lips together in silence.
“Then, based on the facts we’ve gathered, allow me to propose a hypothesis.”
Roderick stepped forward slowly until he stood before them.
“Lady Bella Rohiltern has long suffered abuse, a secret that was hardly a secret within this house.”
“…”
“But no one foresaw the inspectors’ visit. As a result, evidence of tax evasion was scattered everywhere. Unable to destroy it all in time, the Count and the butler devised a plan: to heap all the blame upon the adopted niece who had inherited the former Count’s fortune.”
Spreading his arms like an actor upon a stage, Roderick smiled.
“What do you think? Am I close to the mark?”
“Lies—”
The butler’s protest was cut off as Roderick’s boot ground into his knee.
“I did not grant you permission to speak.”
“Ghh—!”
Though himself a commoner, as an inspector wielding the punitive authority of the Duke of Dyurnar, even the Count could not defy him.
“There is, however, one problem with fabricating such charges. It is far more difficult than it seems. Unless meticulously planned in advance, a few words from the accused can swiftly unravel the deception.”
“That is precisely my point! Why would I utter lies so easily disproven?”
The Count’s voice cracked as his shoulders trembled.
It was no easy task to meet the eyes of a man who had condemned countless souls to death.
“Unless, of course, Lady Rohiltern is already dead.”
Or, for some reason, rendered incapable of speaking.
“In that case, all your troubles would vanish. For the dead can make no defense.”