Not even married yet, and a scion of one of the empire’s most prestigious houses, and he’d just been called “mister.”
He’s dead.
The thought fired off in my head, reflexively, but the male lead just let it slide without a flicker of reaction.
“Henry, I have something I’d like to ask of you, if that’s all right.”
“Yes!”
“You’re quite brave, you know. Braver than most of the palace’s own knights.”
“Braver than knights… really?”
“Really.”
The male lead gave a faint smile and ruffled Henry’s hair.
“Which means you’ll need to be awarded a medal, one of these days.”
“A medal! What’s… a medal?”
“A round medallion made of gold. Given only to the bravest people in the world.”
“A gold medal?! Really?!”
“That’s right. Especially since you’re already helping the adults out, right after waking up like this.”
“Hehe!”
At that, Henry perked up, sitting up straighter, delighted.
His big eyes shone with the eagerness to help however he could, in the wake of the male lead’s praise.
He’s better with kids than I expected.
I’d worried he might carpet-bomb the poor boy with intimidating questions.
[If he can’t handle that much, what good is he going to be anywhere else.]
Feels like it was only yesterday he was saying things like that. Kind of touching, honestly.
“All right. Can you try remembering that day for me? What you saw, right before the bad person showed up.”
“Um. Then… I was playing in the garden, and I dropped my ball, and it rolled off into the street.”
“And then?”
“I picked the ball up and stood up, and — huh, there was nobody on the street, but then something just appeared, all of a sudden.”
“What appeared, in front of you?”
“Um… like, a doll or something!”
“…”
“But I don’t really remember what it looked like. And then, um, I woke up here.”
I tilted my head at Henry’s account.
A doll or something?
But the male lead seemed to have understood it perfectly.
“Sounds like he lured the child out using a black magic artifact.”
“That’s even possible?”
“More than possible. Which explains how the knights missed it…”
The male lead let out a heavy sigh.
“If we’d lost track of him that night, for good…”
“…”
Thinking about it, in the original story, the kidnapped child—
Died. That’s what happened.
If our luck had been just a little worse, this boy could have died, exactly like that.
And it’s only because I was making a scene trying to twist the story off course, chasing a fast resignation, that he got saved at all.
That was when someone awkwardly patted my shoulder.
Hm?
I looked up to find the male lead clearing his throat, stiffly.
One hand hovered just above my shoulder.
“What I meant was — it’s a real relief that you were there.”
“Ah…”
“Thank you. That night must have been terrifying for you too.”
I found myself averting my eyes, oddly embarrassed.
Maybe it was just that this was the first time in either of my lives I’d heard a thank-you like that at work.
Feels like an eternity since I’ve been thanked for anything, past life or this one.
The orphanage had always treated my effort as a given, and the company… well, work was never a place you went to be praised.
But with the male lead smiling that faint, wistful smile with the single most devastating face in this world, I couldn’t manage to say anything back at all.
“Rowell, you head back to the office first.”
“Huh? You’re not coming, senior?”
“Finley and I are heading to the interrogation room. The Minister will be waiting.”
The interrogation room.
At those words, my eyes flew open.
Right, the kidnapper still hasn’t talked.
The faster we dug out whoever was behind this, the closer I’d get to resigning.
That was when a red light flickered near the male lead’s wrist.
The male lead tapped the mark, and the mastermind’s voice came through.
—Rupesk. Are you at the infirmary? When are you coming down?
“On my way shortly.”
—Bring Miss Rowell along when you come.
“…What are you talking about.”
The male lead’s face darkened, abruptly.
It was a look eerily similar to the one I used to wear, in my past life, whenever my boss said something absurd.
—There’s something I’d like Miss Rowell’s help with.
“What exactly do you think you’re—”
*—Mm-hm, see you in a bit.”
“Edgar!”
Click! The mastermind cut the connection without even waiting for the male lead’s answer.
The male lead looked ready to strangle the mastermind with his bare hands.
Wow, even a future Grand Duke turns into a regular office worker fuming over his boss, huh.
That said, the mastermind’s angle sent a genuine cold sweat down my spine.
Wanting to bring me to the interrogation room — what’s he planning to have me do?
Now that I was calm enough to actually think about it, wasn’t dragging me out to the park that night already dangerous enough on its own?
Still…
“Senior, I’d like to come along too!”
“What?”
“Ah, is that not okay?”
At my words, the male lead froze solid.
He even stammered, looking at me like he couldn’t tell if I was serious.
“You — really?”
“Yes, of course—”
“They might be torturing the kidnapper in there. Are you sure you’re all right with that?”
“Oh — even so, yes sir.”
This was a romance-fantasy set against a vaguely early-modern Western backdrop, and if worker’s rights were already this thoroughly nonexistent, there was no way prisoners’ rights were being respected either—
As if!
But I had to go regardless.
There couldn’t be information the male lead and Seamus had access to that I didn’t.
Even with everything I got from the mandrake, I still missed a detail as huge as Henry’s kidnapping.
So no matter how much I hated it, no matter how scared I was, I had no choice but to stick my head in.
“For the sake of a smooth follow-up report for all of us, I’ll come. It’s work, after all.”
“Rowell, you don’t have to go that far…”
“Also, I’d like the chance to spit in the face of whoever kidnapped a member of my family.”
“…Rowell.”
The male lead trailed off, looking like he couldn’t find words, and started pressing at the bridge of his nose.
Why did he keep doing that lately?
“…Senior, do your eyes hurt? Want me to show you a trick for lowering eye pressure?”
“Haah, that’s not it.”
The male lead answered, his voice rougher than before.
“Right, well — if it ever gets too hard to watch, feel free to step out at any time.”
“Yes sir!”
“You’ll probably hear screaming through the glass wall sometimes. Cover your ears when that happens.”
“…Ah, got it!”
That suddenly sounded genuinely terrifying. A wave of regret hit me fast, but it was already too late to back out.
The “interrogation room,” deep in the basement of the central building.
“Grrgh…!”
The kidnapper who’d taken Henry lay writhing pathetically on the floor.
His fellow “comrades” were in no better shape.
Edgar and Seamus stood over them, faces blank.
Men who looked to be somewhere between their early twenties and early thirties.
Smooth, slick faces. Palms without a single callus.
Judging by that alone, they could have passed for men from comfortable households.
Middle-class commoners, at the very least. Or perhaps provincial nobility.
Edgar sneered quietly to himself. People who lived comfortable lives, and still turned to crime.
“Honestly. How is it your vocabulary’s worse than the toddlers you kidnapped.”
“Grrk…”
“Deeply disappointing. Truly, deeply disappointing. However am I supposed to be compensated for this disappointment?”
Edgar murmured to himself as he searched the ringleader’s mind.
But all that greeted him was a world dyed pitch black.
Too contaminated to make anything out.
Had the “mastermind” pulling these men’s strings arranged this on purpose?
So that even if they were taken alive, no lead could be pulled from them…
Right on cue, the door opened and Carlyle joined them.
“Has he confessed to anything?”
“Not yet. Ah.”
Wasn’t that Leila Rowell, frozen stiff, standing on the other side of one of the interrogation room’s glass walls?
“Ah, you brought Miss Rowell along. Well then—”
“Don’t call her in here.”
Edgar broke into a wide grin at the sight of her, and Carlyle’s face twisted, furious.
He held back the urge to curse out loud purely out of manners, but Carlyle had been simmering with resentment toward Edgar ever since the day they’d caught the kidnappers.
After the last of them had been captured, Carlyle had nearly fainted on the spot when he reached the scene.
[Why is Rowell here?]
The person who was supposed to be handling backup from the office had shown up at a dangerous scene like this!
He’d been furious enough to confront Edgar directly, then and there.
[Edgar. Don’t tell me you actually brought Rowell along.]
[Mm-hm. She was a real help, too.]
[A help—!]
He’d held off arguing further at the time, given the state the children were in, but this had crossed a line.
“And what exactly do you plan to do if Rowell genuinely can’t handle this? If something happens to her!”
“Haah, Carlyle Rupesk.”
Edgar let out a sigh.
“She’s bound to us by a three-year contract regardless, so what’s the problem.”
“Edgar…”
“More than that — there’s a real chance Rowell’s power could restore these men’s memories.”
