Chapter 5 – The Unwelcome Guests
“Madam, please don’t come down.”
Dmitri spoke, but Briony didn’t listen. The butler soon gave up trying to stop his master and rushed directly toward the source of Myrtle’s shout. Briony followed behind him.
“You can’t just barge in! Butler, these people…”
Myrtle, her cheeks flushed with agitation, looked up at the two of them.
The front door was wide open. Briony gazed at the two men standing in the doorway. Both had sturdy builds that suggested strength, yet their manner held the restraint of high society, and they wore some kind of uniform. It was a uniform she’d never seen before.
“Who are you?”
Dmitri stepped forward.
“Is Lord Ebony here?”
The older man, the one with a mustache, asked.
The butler replied,
“He is not at home at the moment. There are ladies present, so could you please come back another time?”
“Then we’ll wait until Lord Ebony returns.”
“There’s no telling when he’ll be back.”
“Didn’t he say where he was going?”
“I’m just a butler, not his escort knight.”
“What brings you here?”
Briony asked. Dmitri gestured for her to stop, but she didn’t care. If the Earl was absent, all responsibility and authority fell to the Countess. She had already signed the divorce papers, so legally, she and Keith were now strangers. Still, before leaving Ebony’s boundaries, she wanted to show the dignity of the Countess.
The mustached man answered arrogantly,
“We’ve brought a search warrant.”
‘A search warrant?’
But these men weren’t Ebony’s law officers. Law officers for each estate were appointed by the lord. Briony had met Ebony’s law officers through Keith and would certainly have recognized their faces.
Moreover, law officers had no authority to investigate the lord or his family. In the Kingdom, only a few institutions could issue search warrants to nobles of Baron rank or higher.
Dmitri seemed to be thinking the same thing.
“Where was the warrant issued?”
“A mere commoner dares to ask—”
The other man, not the mustached one, growled, but his companion stopped him. Then, as if showing off, he said,
“It’s a search warrant from Her Majesty the Queen.”
The shock of those words was considerable.
Except for the unwelcome guests, the three froze. Myrtle staggered and leaned against the wall. Even Dmitri’s face turned pale. Briony gripped the banister tightly.
‘Her Majesty the Queen…?’
Never, in this house or in her entire life, had Briony heard “Her Majesty the Queen” used as a proper noun rather than a general term. No matter how prestigious the Dalmore Family was, there was a considerable wall between the Earldom and Her Majesty the Queen. Of course, nobles could attend court events three times a year, but not all were treated at the Queen’s table. Had Keith ever spoken a word with the Queen?
Dmitri said something, but she didn’t hear it. A search warrant, and one issued by Her Majesty the Queen to Keith…? There had to be some mistake.
From afar, the sound of hooves was heard. Someone was riding at full speed. Briony didn’t realize that the source was actually quite close and approaching Ebony Heights rapidly.
“…Then, please show me the search warrant.”
Briony stepped forward to face the men.
“I need to see for myself if it really bears Her Majesty’s signature.”
“Ah, Madam. It would be best if you stepped back.”
No sooner had the mustached man finished speaking than Keith’s shadow appeared outside the door.
He pulled the reins. The horse stopped, and with a single motion, he leapt from it. Briony watched as he strode up and blocked the men who had brought the warrant.
He seemed to have ridden hard, for both his clothes and breathing were rough. Yet when he spoke, his voice showed not the slightest hint of tremor or anxiety.
“What is this rudeness so early in the morning?”
“Are you Lord Ebony?”
“State your affiliation.”
“We are ‘The Queen’s Eyes’, investigators of Her Majesty the Queen.”
“Your names?”
“Olson.”
Keith didn’t budge, so the mustached man’s companion had to give his own name as well.
“I am Owen.”
“So, what is all this rudeness in someone else’s house?”
“As I said, we are investigators under Her Majesty the Queen, and we’ve brought a search warrant.”
Olson took an envelope from his coat. It bore a seal. Seeing it was the Algonquin royal seal, it appeared truly to be issued by Her Majesty.
Keith all but snatched the envelope, broke the seal, and scanned the contents. After a moment, he handed the envelope and the warrant back to the investigator.
“In accordance with Her Majesty’s orders, I will cooperate with the search. Search and take whatever you need. However, do not touch anyone in this house.”
“The warrant states you must actively cooperate with the search.”
“With that warrant, you may search the house, but not the people.”
Keith’s words dripped with contempt.
At that moment, Dmitri moved quietly to clear a path for Briony. He meant for her to slip outside while using him as a shield. Briony was worried about Keith, but staying here wouldn’t help, and Myrtle was trembling in fear.
Just as she began to move as Dmitri signaled, Owen, the man who had given his name, noticed and quickly blocked her way.
“Madam. The house is now under search, so you cannot move freely.”
Owen raised his hand as if to stop Briony. At last, Keith’s patience exploded.
“Don’t you dare lay a hand on my wife!”
His voice was so terrifying that not only Briony, but even the investigators turned pale. Only Myrtle was brave enough to leave the wall and stand by her mistress, though still shaking. Briony gripped Myrtle’s hand.
“Lord Ebony, we just want the investigation to proceed smoothly…”
Owen mumbled. Olson—the mustached one—was more forceful.
“Right now, Lord Ebony, you are obstructing the investigation. We are direct investigators under Her Majesty the Queen, and to resist us is to defy—”
Keith didn’t wait for him to finish. He strode to the wall that led to the hall, took down a decorative sword that Briony hadn’t even realized was there. Though ornamental, it was a well-maintained rapier with not a single flaw. He gripped it expertly and, in an instant, aimed the sharp point at Olson.
“How dare a lowly investigator claim to represent Her Majesty the Queen?”
“Lord…”
“Lord, you say? Well said. Ebony is my estate, and everyone living here is under my protection. No mere investigator has the right to order me around.”
Briony couldn’t tell if Keith was right or wrong. In the Algonquin Kingdom, the Queen’s power was absolute. Only Her Majesty herself could issue a warrant to a noble without formal indictment, via her own investigative agency, ‘The Queen’s Eyes’. Thus, Keith was obliged to comply with the investigators. At the same time, for the same reason, a low-ranking investigator delivering the warrant and conducting the search had no right to claim to represent Her Majesty.
It was Dmitri who broke the tense atmosphere.
“…Um, this lady is not Madame Ebony.”
Everyone was taken aback. Briony saw Keith’s shoulders drop slightly. Finally, he lowered his sword hand, though he didn’t seem inclined to return it to its place.
Briony knew she had to say something.
“That’s right. I divorced Lord Ebony.”
“Then who is this…Lady… Demoiselle?”
Olson—no, was it Owen?—asked in a dazed tone. Dmitri answered for her.
“She is Demoiselle Arlington.”
‘Lady’ was a title for daughters of Earls or higher; ‘Demoiselle’ was for unmarried daughters of Viscounts or below. The investigators’ faces showed understanding.
‘Has word already spread throughout society that this marriage ended after three years?’
Briony felt uneasy.
“Demoiselle Darlington. Then—”
“It’s Arlington.”
She corrected him. The investigator pretended not to hear and continued,
“May I ask the reason for your divorce from Lord Ebony?”
“Does interrogation count as part of a house search?”
Since it didn’t, the investigators had no choice but to stop their questioning. Keith used the opportunity to give Dmitri instructions, not even glancing at Briony.
“Dmitri, escort Demoiselle Arlington home.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“The carriage is ready, I presume?”
As if he had anticipated such an event, the carriage was waiting not at the front gate of Ebony Heights, but outside the back door. Briony wondered if the coachman was ready to leave. But Dmitri, guiding her with “Of course. Demoiselle Arlington, this way,” looked ready to drive the carriage himself all the way to distant Shovary if need be.
“Demoiselle, quickly.”
Myrtle hurried her as well.
Briony reluctantly moved. Was she really going to leave the place she’d grown attached to for three years without a proper farewell?
‘Without even saying goodbye to Keith…?’
As she passed by him, Briony found herself gazing up at his cold, unfamiliar profile with a desperate feeling.
The horses were already hitched to the carriage. As expected, the coachman seemed to be still preparing. Perhaps he’d gone for a brief rest before the long journey. But Dmitri, unfazed, helped Briony into the carriage.
“You must hurry.”
“But—”
“Miss Meyer, please get in.”
With Dmitri’s help, Myrtle climbed in after her. The door closed, and Dmitri’s figure disappeared. Soon, she sensed him moving at the front of the carriage. Briony couldn’t believe this was happening.
Keith had done nothing wrong, yet a search warrant from Her Majesty the Queen had arrived, and she was leaving Ebony as if fleeing in the night!
“Wait, wait a moment.”
Her voice was too soft to reach outside. Dmitri clicked his tongue. The carriage began to move. Briony pushed Myrtle aside and clung to the window facing Ebony Heights’ back garden. The garden she’d planted in her first year, and which Keith had loved, receded into the distance.
Eventually, when the carriage reached a spot where she could see all of Ebony Heights, someone came running out the back door. Even from a hundred yards away, Briony recognized who it was.
It was Keith. Seeing the carriage recede, he stood with his shoulders slumped, staring endlessly in her direction. It was too far to make out his expression.
“Demoiselle, you’ll fall out of the carriage if you keep that up.”
Myrtle pulled her back.
Briony, overcome with emotion, sank into the seat of the carriage.
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