In the Nest of the Fallen Serpent - Chapter 32
Chapter 32
But her master had said nothing. He hadn’t given any specific instructions. It would be overstepping for her to act on her own.
Greta added to the maid, “Tell the physician to provide ample ointment.”
She prayed her master had a plan. That he would show even a sliver of concern for the woman he had brought back, calling her a slave. Even if, for now, she was merely of use to him.
***
Moritz sensed an unusual atmosphere the moment he entered the study. The Grand Duke, in the midst of changing his clothes, radiated a chilling aura.
‘Has something happened?’ He habitually reviewed his own actions for any missteps. He felt slightly uneasy about having told Lady Greta what he knew about the new slave. However, she was discreet and wouldn’t spread rumors.
‘Then something must have happened in the dining hall…’ Moritz was pondering possible scenarios, recalling the Grand Duke’s back as he entered the mansion with the slave, when Benedict’s voice cut through his thoughts.
“What about the matter I asked you to investigate?”
Lost in thought, Moritz missed the question.
“Moritz Lemon.”
“Yes! Your Grace.”
By the time he regained his composure, it was too late. Benedict fastened his shirt cuff, offering a languid smile. “What pleasant thoughts occupy my aide’s mind?”
But it was clear the smile wasn’t genuine. Moritz gulped, replying, “I apologize, Your Grace.”
“So, the information?”
Even though he understood the question this time, Moritz felt even more tense and afraid. He knew his report wouldn’t satisfy his master.
“I am examining the materials obtained from the royal palace and the temple, but…” He felt a cold sweat trickling down his back as he continued, maintaining a rigid posture. “I haven’t yet pinpointed the location of the holy sword. I will report as soon as I find it.”
Moritz clenched his fists, anticipating a reprimand. The excuse that he had just returned to the castle wouldn’t work with his master.
“Still haven’t found it, you say…” Benedict expertly tied his cravat. He disliked being attended to and was accustomed to doing everything himself. “Perhaps the holy sword doesn’t truly exist.”
“Yes?” Moritz blurted out a foolish sound. But Benedict continued, seemingly unconcerned, “Didn’t you hear? It suddenly vanished from where it was originally kept.”
They had captured and harshly interrogated everyone who might know the sword’s location. But the answers were all the same: the holy sword had vanished one day from where it should have been.
“Since it appeared like a legend, perhaps it vanished just as suddenly.”
Like his headache.
Leaving the last words unspoken, Benedict leaned against his desk, tapping its surface rhythmically, lost in thought. A moment later, the tapping stopped, and an order followed.
“Investigate divine power as well.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Responding immediately, Moritz was finally able to leave the Grand Duke’s study. Then, a sudden thought made him stop in the middle of the hallway.
“Come to think of it…” Moritz quickly searched his memory. The image of the Grand Duke, halfway through putting on his shirt when he entered the study.
‘…Was there a wound on His Grace’s side?’
***
At dawn the following day, the Grand Duke left the castle again. The news reached Hilde after she had been moved to a chamber adjacent to the Grand Duke’s bedroom.
‘He’s already back to work, without even properly recovering from his journey…’ Despite her fear of Benedict, Hilde admired his sense of responsibility as a ruler.
‘They said he even led the charge on the battlefield.’ He wasn’t a man who shied away from danger. Indeed, he hadn’t hesitated to draw his sword against the spider monster. He acted as if his own life was of no consequence.
“What does it matter? You have divine power.”
The memory of his actions—cutting his own flesh without hesitation, his utterly composed expression, his indifferent voice, as if it were someone else’s affair—sent a chill through her despite the warm sunlight. Hilde hugged herself, sitting on the bed.
“Oh.” A short gasp escaped her lips.
She sat still for a moment, then carefully touched the bedspread beneath her. A sigh escaped her lips.
“It’s… so soft.”
The room, which she hadn’t had the chance to observe earlier, finally began to register in her mind.
