Chapter 1.5

Morning sunlight was already streaming in through the window of the commander’s office. Documents related to previous cases were piled high on the floor and desk. Azrael leaned back in his chair, trying to take a brief moment of rest. However, the respite didn’t last long.

“Commander, I’m coming in.”

Carlson opened the door and entered, lightly kicking one of the document piles with his foot.

“Oh dear, I thought you might still be awake—and of course, you are.”

“And how much sleep did you get?”

“About… thirty minutes? I dozed off while looking things up.”

Carlson let out a groan as he carefully navigated through the papers scattered on the floor and approached the desk. He placed a new report atop the pile of documents.

“We found a witness during the carriage investigation process. I’ve sent a letter, so… they should arrive before lunch.”

Azrael flipped through the report while listening to Carlson. The witness was a coachman who had personally transported an oak barrel from the victim’s tavern to the storage room.

“Once you’ve skimmed through the report, stretch a bit and get up. There’s a guest waiting for you.”

“The witness hasn’t arrived yet, has he?”

“That’s true. But there’s another guest waiting.”

Carlson grinned mischievously and practically snatched the report from Azrael’s hands. With a gleeful expression, he led Azrael to the interrogation room, chuckling as he opened the door.

“Now, Commander, it’s rude to keep a lady waiting too long. Go in and have a pleasant time.”

“What?”

For a moment, Azrael was confused. But as the door opened, he saw a familiar face. Red eyes, which had been staring at the wall, turned toward him. All of Carlson’s remarks flashed through Azrael’s mind in an instant.

He immediately understood the misunderstanding. Carlson likely had no idea that his words were enough to land him in trouble for insolence.

“I hope I haven’t interrupted your work.”

Beatrice seemed not to have heard the conversation outside the room. She smiled innocently and spoke first. Azrael shot Carlson a sharp look before closing the interrogation room door.

“It’s been a while. Oh, come to think of it, I haven’t decided how to address you yet… What should I call you? Duke? Or perhaps Sir Azrael…?”

“Sir is sufficient, Lady. More importantly, why are you in the interrogation room? Are you somehow involved in the case?”

“Was his name Carlson? He said the other rooms were full of case files, so I had no choice but to wait here.”

“My apologies. The commander’s office is in disarray, so he must have guided you here. Even if it’s a bit late, I should ask someone to bring tea…”

As Azrael began to rise from his seat, Beatrice lightly tugged at his sleeve.

“No need, Sir. I wouldn’t want to burden busy people with extra effort.”

“In that case, may I ask directly why you’ve come?”

“Of course. I came to tell you something, Sir. About the person who ambushed you.”

“Lady, did you see the culprit?”

A tense atmosphere filled the air. Beatrice’s eyes gleamed brightly, just as they had on that early morning.

“Unfortunately, I didn’t see them clearly. It was too dark, and all I could make out was a faint silhouette.”

“If you saw a silhouette, then you witnessed the scene, didn’t you?”

“I was passing by. I heard a strange noise and went to check… or so I think. Looking back, it seems it might have been the sound of you collapsing.”

Azrael couldn’t help but think how lucky he had been. If Beatrice hadn’t happened to pass by that location, he might not have been discovered. It was an odd coincidence.

“Can you describe the silhouette in detail? Their movements, where they fled to… Anything that comes to mind, no matter how small.”

“They seemed to be holding something like a wooden club. What I saw was their back as they moved away, but they didn’t appear to discard the club.”

Judging by the use of a wooden club as a weapon, it was clearly a spontaneous crime. The fact that the perpetrator fled with the weapon in hand indicated an intention to conceal the crime. Rarely did criminals leave their traces so blatantly.

“Do you think the culprit noticed your presence, Lady?”

“That, I’m not sure about. It seemed they were simply too busy running away.”

Beatrice lightly shook her head. However, her words didn’t offer much reassurance. If the culprit hadn’t returned after fleeing, it wouldn’t be an issue. But if they had come back later to check on Azrael’s condition, then they must have seen her.

Azrael remembered that Beatrice had been alone. From the perspective of the culprit wielding a wooden club, dealing with her wouldn’t have been difficult.

Yet both Beatrice and Azrael remained unharmed. He recalled that the surroundings had been utterly silent until just before he lost consciousness. This suggested that, for whatever reason, the culprit had not interfered with Beatrice.

It was likely that the culprit hadn’t returned to the scene, or perhaps a third party had appeared at the location.

“When you rescued me, were you alone, Lady?”

“Yes, until the moment you lost consciousness.”

“Does that mean… someone else appeared at the scene afterward?”

“Of course, Sir. If I had been alone, how could I have moved you to the mansion? Fortunately, I was able to get help from my servant.”

“You weren’t with your servant initially. Did you call them to help move me?”

“Not exactly. They came looking for me after I got lost. We had gone out together in the evening, but amidst the crowd, we lost each other. However, thanks to that, I was able to meet you… In the end, it turned out to be a fortunate event.”

She seemed far too composed for someone who had wandered the streets until dawn. Thinking back, even when he first encountered her, she had been the same. Most noble ladies would have screamed upon seeing a man bleeding profusely from his head.

But Beatrice had approached him calmly, speaking with an air of tranquility. She was, in many ways, an unusual woman. It felt as though she contradicted every general assumption he had.

“Are you alright, Sir?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just… everything. Investigating the case, nearly dying this time—all of it.”

“I’m fine, Lady.”

“You don’t have to be fine, do you? Why do you seem so accustomed to things like this? These are not things one should grow used to.”

Her voice was gentle; her words filled with concern. Azrael found it unfamiliar.

His colleagues occasionally expressed their worries, but it was always in a different way. As investigators, they understood the necessity of danger. Each of them had faced peril numerous times. Thus, they tended to be indifferent to a certain level of risk.

There was also a prevailing atmosphere that normalized danger. It was widely accepted that investigators should naturally endure such risks. Azrael was no exception. Among the investigation team, he was particularly indifferent to danger. This had led to the paradox where he was highly sensitive to others’ safety while neglecting his own.

When he didn’t reply, Beatrice quietly extended her hand toward him. Her small hand lightly touched his cheek.

“Lady?”

Caught off guard by the sudden gesture, he felt a mix of confusion. Beatrice’s hand moved from his cheek to rest gently on his forehead. She then placed her other hand on her own forehead.

“Don’t you still have a fever, Sir? You haven’t even removed your bandages yet. Have you been sleeping properly?”

“We must catch the culprit as soon as possible… I appreciate your concern, but this is not something you need to worry about, Lady.”

“Is it rude for me to worry about you, Sir?”

“Let’s just say it’s unnecessary.”

Perhaps because of the fever, Beatrice’s hand felt cool against his skin. Before her touch lingered too long, Azrael subtly moved his head away to avoid her hand.

“More importantly, are you sure you don’t need anything else?”

“Do you think calling you by name isn’t enough?”

“Of course. I know well that the weight of my life is not light. The value of life is the same for everyone, isn’t it?”

“There are many things one could ask from a Duke: land, mines, jewels, dresses… or even power. But none of them are what I desire.”

“Then what is it that you desire, Lady?”

“You.”

Her voice was soft, audible only to Azrael. She whispered again, as if repeating herself.

“Sir Azrael, you.”

He couldn’t respond to her words. Regardless of her intentions, she was the Crown Prince’s lover. Simply expressing a desire for someone other than the Crown Prince could be considered treason.

The flustered look on his face made Beatrice chuckle softly.

“I’m joking. You make that expression when you’re embarrassed, Sir.”

“If you think of something you desire later, please let me know.”

“If that’s what you want, I’ll do so. It seems that would ease your mind, Sir.”

“And, Lady, while I’m grateful for your rescue… Next time, if you find yourself in such a situation, please hide yourself first. Witnesses are always a threat to culprits in any case.”