Reginald's lips pressed together in a thin line.

"Me? Poison the wine? That's absurd! Did the Inquisitor put you up to this?"

I put on a neutral mask, staring through him.

Reginald let out a forced laugh. It trailed off into an awkward silence.

"How did you know?"

I shrugged.

"I guessed."

Reginald's face turned bright red in the torchlight.

"You WHAT?"

"You're overprotective of Victor, yet you left him alone in a hall full of people you hate. When you returned, you were nervous, and you didn't want him to drink the wine. As for a motive… you've given me a whole list."

Reginald deflated. His perfect posture devolved into a slouch, and, for the first time, I saw the tired old man behind the refined mask.

"Are you going to turn me in?"

I eyed the Vangrave crest on the gold bar.

"No, I won't."

Reginald blinked and rubbed away the tears budding in his eyes.

"Why not?"

His voice cracked. The arrogance he wore as armour melted at his feet.

"Let's just say I know what it's like to be an underdog."

"Thank you."

I patted him on the shoulder.

"Don't mention it... Seriously, it can get you killed."

I cocked my head.

"One question. Why go after them now? You must have had plenty of chances over the years."

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He sniffled, wiping away a trail of snot with the back of his hand.

"It's the young Lord. He's finally come of age, but he won't be able to rule while those vipers live."

I nodded. It made sense. An idealist like Victor would inevitably butt heads with the true rulers of the Dellends.

I put the gold bar back on the stack.

"Well, at least now you have a fighting chance."

Reginald smiled, straightening his posture.

"Indeed. The young Lord is Landbound now. He can protect himself and his people."

Hope—it was a strange feeling, but not an unpleasant one.

"Let's start moving this gold."

# # #

Reed's driver turned the wagon around in the courtyard, moving it closer to the manor house's front door. The Vangrave's servants formed a line from the reserve room to the wagon, lugging the heavy bars one after the other while Reed's guards watched.

I stayed off to the side, scratching the back of Thor's ears.

Castille and Dugan walked out of the main entrance, followed by Reed. A few moments later, Reginald appeared with the two guards, pushing Victor along in his wheelchair.

Castille walked forward with her new sword, Dusk, on her hip.

"How goes it?"

"Good. They're almost done."

"Not bad. Their process is efficient," Reed said.

"It would be faster if your guards helped, Special Inquisitor," Victor said.

"They fought a battle less than a day ago. They deserve some rest."

"Either way, we'll have to unload all this gold ourselves," Castille said.

Beside her, Dugan nodded.

Reed flashed a mischievous smile.

"Or I could sell you the wagon and horses… for a fair price."

"Don't you ever get tired of making deals, Reed?"

She looked at me like I had grown a second set of eyes.

"No…"

While we talked, the servant who led us to the drawing room huffed and puffed as he pushed another gold bar into the wagon bed.

"That's the last one," he said between deep breaths.

"Then I believe that concludes our business. I wish you all safe travels," Victor said.

He raised his right hand.

Castille and Dugan took turns walking up and pressing their foreheads against his knuckles.

"It's been an honour, my Lord."

"The honour is mine, Castille Ironside."

I raised my eyebrows.

Castille being nice to a noble? Something must have happened while I was inspecting the gold.

I checked the sky. If we were lucky, we could make it back for a late lunch and then start the long journey to the capital.

I couldn't believe it.

I was finally going home.

As I moved to say goodbye to Victor, Reed raised one gloved finger.

"Wait. I still have some business."

We all turned to the Inquisitor.

"What business is that?" Victor asked.

Reed smiled, handing off her club to one of her nearby guards. She unbuttoned her double-breasted jacket and reached for something in its interior pocket. Reed pulled out a handful of folded papers, holding them up for all to see.

"These are two written confessions I transcribed from servants of the Lagos brothers."

"What's the meaning of this, Inquisitor?" Reginald asked. He stepped forward, his face glistening with a fresh layer of sweat.

Reed unfolded the papers, a faint smile on her face before her eyes flicked to the Steward.

"Reggie, what's going on?" Victor asked.

"In these confessions, the servants describe their part in a plan to poison the attendees of the Lagos brothers' annual celebration. They both name one man as the mastermind of the scheme. The Vangrave's esteemed Steward, Reginald Harper."

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