Katrina read the question in Bernadette's expression and smiled. "Me? I'm following orders, when it comes down to it. What does a little Eternal Witch like me have to do with how these families tear each other apart?"
She gave a small shrug. "But someone cares about it, and I happen to be, loosely speaking, their spokesperson."
Bernadette said, flatly: "Aren't you afraid the Demoness Sect will hold you accountable?"
Katrina spread her hands. "First — I haven't betrayed the Demoness Sect. I'm acting on instructions from higher up; it won't interfere with the existing plan. And second — anything I've just told you, once we part ways, I'll deny every word."
"..."
Bernadette studied her for a moment, then nodded. "So — what does cooperating with you get us?"
"Oh?"
Katrina's eyes went slightly wide. "This alone is enough to hand your Aurora Order an absolutely perfect opportunity to bring your Master down into the world. Isn't that enough?"
"I'm also not particularly interested in bringing the Master down."
"?!?!?!?!"
Katrina's expression froze.
She thought she'd misheard — because she had just heard an Aurora Order believer say they weren't interested in their Master's descent.
Sure, this new Mr. A was clearly more rational and sharper than his predecessors — but as long as he was Aurora Order, there was no way he didn't put the True Creator's descent above everything else.
Unless this is a fake "divine messenger."
Katrina stood blinking for a long beat before she finally managed: "Does the rest of the Aurora Order know you think this way?"
Bernadette devoutly made the sign of the cross over her chest. "The Lord knows."
"..."
What exactly are you made of?
Katrina didn't quite know what to do with that.
Bernadette then said: "What I want to know is the location of George III's nine mausoleums."
Katrina narrowed her eyes and studied her for a moment. "You already know about that. Interesting." A slight pause. "Unfortunately — we don't know either. We're cooperating with them, yes, but that's a transaction of interests, not trust. A secret that deep, that hidden — the Augustus Family isn't going to hand it to anyone."
"Then what exactly are the Castilla and Tamara families planning to do? How do they intend to stop George III, or take a bite out of him?"
"That I genuinely don't know — I told you, I'm just the messenger."
She tilted her head, curious. "You're not interested in your Master's descent, but you're very interested in George III's mausoleum locations… I find myself more and more curious about what your real goal is, Mr. New Divine Messenger."
Bernadette's gaze sharpened. A cool smile. "You haven't forgotten what your people tried to do to me a few nights ago, have you?" A pause. "How does this sound: if I can use George III's mausoleums to conduct a ritual and bring the Master down — use George III himself as His flock — would that work for you?"
Katrina: "..."
The Aurora Order really is full of lunatics.
Bernadette immediately settled back into calm. "Tell me what the Demoness Sect, the Psychology Alchemists, and the Loen royal family are planning next."
Katrina pursed her soft pink lips, eyes glinting. "Fine."
...
Around five or six in the afternoon, Klein finally found a window of time and made his way back to the detective agency, intending to check on progress.
He knocked on the door. A thick wave of smoke immediately rolled out and hit him in the face, and Klein took two steps back coughing.
"Sorry, sorry."
Detective Eisinger Stanton quickly plucked the pipe from between his teeth and waved the air with both arms, trying to drive the smoke out. "Every time I'm working through something, I end up sealing myself in here with a pipe."
He glanced at the smoke-filled room behind him and asked: "Should we talk outside?"
"No need."
The Captain had liked sealing himself in his underground office to smoke too — and that was underground. Much worse than this.
"Detective — has there been any progress on the commission from a few days ago?"
"Yes, actually."
Eisinger moved briskly back inside, gesturing for Klein to sit, then produced a file and handed it across. "Everything about Prince Edessak — it's all in there. His personality, habits, preferences, day-to-day activities — thorough enough for a complete picture, I think, Miss."
"Thank you."
Klein opened the folder. Inside was a stack of photographs — candid shots of the Prince at various venues: horse races, balls, salons. In every one of them, he was smiling, composed, gracious.
Every inch the product of an excellent education.
Klein then turned to the written pages. They laid out the Prince's particulars in thorough detail. At a glance, no obvious flaws — the sort of man who'd top every eligible woman's list.
Except for...
Klein pointed to a line at the very end, marked with a few question marks. "What's this — 'suspected of forcibly taking a commoner girl'?"
The detective squinted at it, rubbed the stubble on his chin. "That's still uncertain. Based on the leads I've gathered, the Prince did apparently take in a commoner girl not long ago."
"But it's not yet clear whether it was mutual — eyes meeting across a room, both willing — or whether he took her by force." The detective thought it over. "Because this Prince's record over his twenty-odd years has been nothing but mild and gentlemanly. Not a single incident of real misconduct — arrogance, perhaps, if we're naming flaws — but that's nothing for a prince."
"It's genuinely hard for me to believe a man like that would suddenly change entirely and do something like dragging off a commoner girl."
"Especially when, not long before all this, he was one of the most visible pursuers of Backlund's most dazzling jewel — and had made his interest in the Hall family's eldest daughter abundantly clear on more than one occasion."
"A commoner girl, more appealing than Miss Hall?"
The great detective laced his fingers and looked at Klein. "Everything in this file is verified and factual to the best of my ability. But the section on his character is more my subjective reading — you'll need to weigh it against what you find in reality."
Klein nodded. "Understood."
"One last thing — a personal suggestion."
"Go ahead."
"If your goal really is to catch the Prince's eye — I'd advise giving up sooner rather than later. Based on my investigation, Prince Edessak's attachment to this commoner girl goes well beyond the ordinary. It's highly unlikely he'd develop feelings for anyone else."
"I see. Thank you."
Klein pulled the remaining fee from his pocket, set it on the table, and stood. "I'll take my leave, then."
He'd barely risen with the file in hand when a sharp knock came at the door. Eisinger walked over and pulled it open, revealing a young man in a work uniform and cap who scratched the back of his head with a grin. "Mr. Eisinger, the carriage is ready — we can go whenever."
"Right, good."
Eisinger lifted his hat from the coat rack and set it on his head, then turned back. "Miss — I'm heading up to the North Borough. If it's on your way, I can give you a lift."
Klein smiled. "It is, actually. Thank you so much, Detective." — And I'm absolutely going to expense this ride. Might as well count it as making a little back.
Eisinger made a gentlemanly sweeping gesture. "After you."
The carriage Eisinger had hired was spacious inside — the two of them sat across from each other. Klein thanked him once more, then turned to look out at the street.
Eisinger, for his part, cracked open a casebook and flipped through it, pipe in his mouth but unlit — clearly out of consideration for the lady present.
He tapped his knuckles against his own temple, brow knitting tighter. He'd already known the boy's commission had something to do with the Intis ambassador, but now that he'd followed the leads to where they led, he felt it was a real headache.
Not because the case itself was complicated — it was because of the people tangled up in it. He was just a detective. Was it really worth getting drawn into this kind of mess for a fee like that?
Then there was the woman sitting across from him. Eisinger didn't buy for a second that she'd had him investigate the Prince purely for the sake of getting his attention. But the Church of Knowledge and Wisdom he answered to had asked him to quietly keep tabs on Backlund's increasingly strange undercurrents.
So — why not nudge these "interested parties" along and see what shakes loose? Maybe something hidden will finally come into the light.
"When the time comes... maybe I... just might..."
Suddenly, Eisinger found his thoughts growing sluggish and thick, his vision blurring, his mind going wooden — as though a pane of heavy glass had descended between him and everything around him.
To be continued…
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