The Eternal Case Close
The Ketel Order had been plunged into chaos that day.
From the moment the sun rose, the monastery had been in an absolute uproar. Someone had slipped past the very wards that were supposed to guard the sacred grounds and made a break for the underground vault.
Most of the paladins assigned to protect the monastery were standing watch at the vault entrance when the intruder slipped through their fingers. The culprit vanished into the night without leaving so much as a single footprint.
At least no one had died. No valuable relics had vanished. The priest who muttered that as long as nothing had been stolen or someone had been injured, everything was fine still sounded uneasy. The paladins, however, could not hide the burning shame in their eyes.
They had failed their duty. Not only had they lost the sacred relic, but the intruder had strolled in and out of their home like it was his own courtyard. Their pride—and the face they could show the god they served—had been trampled beneath those careless boots.
Even the Grand Archbishop of the capital had taken notice. The lone suspect currently in custody, Zeroa, stood on the very edge of execution if the charges held.
Orle, still soaking in the sun through the grand window of his lavish quarters, let out a small, satisfied chuckle as he heard the news.
He would be questioned endlessly in the prison cell below, but for now the creature called Zeroa was relishing small, stolen comforts.
The rich aroma of fragrant tea tickling his nose, the sweet aftertaste of dessert melting on his tongue, the gentle warmth of sunlight on his skin, and the plushness of the chair beneath him. All of it, perfectly arranged to his taste.
To most people these would have been ordinary pleasures. To Zeroa they had become something almost sacred.
“Insolent bastard…”
Orle’s lips curved into a smirk as he pictured the timid face of his target. Two days ago the intruder had burst into the Ketel Order, and now Zeroa would pay with his name and, if the Archbishop’s mood held, his very life.
It was the price for laying a filthy, calloused hand on Aria Shane Briqueville’s perfect skin.
He remembered the horror of that night—the way the girl had danced under the orange glow, pure and flawless, only for one ugly spot to cling to her like a stain.
The darkness inside Orle smiled. The ugliness had been judged and would soon be ashes.
And the clean, flawless hand that had once been touched by that monster would now belong only to him.
The radiant red Jewel Eyes, the snow-white skin, the midnight hair that carried the night goddess herself, and those lips that spoke of purity. All of it, eventually, would be his.
He took another sip of tea, the peace sweet on his tongue.
But his serenity was short-lived.
“What insolence is this?!”
The shouting from beyond the door made Orle’s gaze snap toward the entrance.
Before he could answer, the door was thrown open with brutal force. The Legandia City Guard, Ketel paladins, and a swarm of academy students flooded the room.
“Our duke’s family will not forgive such disrespect! We will file a formal complaint later!”
“Even if you intend to complain later, touch any of my men and you will be executed on the spot for treason.”
The old nobleman spluttered in outrage, but Captain Kali of the Legandia City Guard regarded him with ice-cold eyes.
The threat of treason only cooled the man’s fury.
“Explain this disturbance,” he said, voice tight.
Orle sat calmly sipping his tea while the entire room packed in like sardines. Kali’s brows furrowed in displeasure.
A burly paladin stepped forward.
“We came to arrest the bastard who dared mock the Ketel Order.”
His tone was far from respectful. The eyes of the paladins burned with barely contained fury.
Orle exhaled softly and rose, turning toward Diana.
“I understand the desire to protect a classmate from your squad. But pinning false accusations on others is not the duty of a noble academy student.”
“You have quite the arrogance for a senior, Orle.”
“Are you suggesting you have heard something against me?”
“Only the truth,” he replied calmly, even as the armed paladins glared at him.
He had expected this confrontation. He had already been warned exactly what would happen.
Orle swept his gaze over the crowd and locked eyes with Delun.
Two days earlier he had sent Delun to Diana, telling her the City Guard would be used to pressure him. The pain of seeing Aria’s gaze turned elsewhere was irrelevant; Zeroa had to die. And Delun had saved him from the trap.
Of course the little worm would still need to be removed once this was over.
“So, what exactly do you want from my family?” he asked, settling back into his chair with perfect composure. “If I have committed a crime, I will accept it willingly.”
“Willingly, you say?”
Elin suddenly appeared from the crowd like a rabbit popping out of a hat.
Orle did not relax his guard. Her cute appearance fooled no one.
“Ah, let me introduce myself. I am Elin, a detective. I have been assisting the City Guard with their investigation.”
He had no idea what a detective was, but he offered a polite bow and a gentle smile.
“A detective? Lord Chancellor, what urgent business do you have with me? Shouldn’t you be questioning the suspect Zeroa?”
“I already questioned Zeroa thoroughly. That is why I wanted to speak with another suspect—namely you.”
“Me? The suspect? Very well. Please do as you like. I doubt any answer I give will satisfy you under that oppressive atmosphere.”
Orle glanced at the unruly paladins and knights, then sat down again.
“Visiting so suddenly without proper notice has put our guest in an awkward position. I do hope you will forgive my impertinence.”
Kali frowned at the snide remark, but before she could react Elin stepped forward.
“Orle, you were at the Ketel Order on the night of the ball, correct?”
“Yes, everyone can testify to that. I had a bit too much wine and returned home early before I could make a mistake. The other servants in the house can confirm my movements.”
“I see. Witnesses are important.”
Elin shrugged and took a seat directly in front of Orle.
“When was the last time you visited the Ketel Order?”
“About a year… perhaps a year and a day. The memory is hazy. Probably during a day of rest.”
“Indeed. What did you do two days ago? None of the servants remember seeing you.”
“I met someone.”
No one except Delun had been aware of the secret meeting.
“Ah… you know there was an intruder at the Ketel Order two days ago, correct?”
“Yes, a most blasphemous crime.”
“Can you tell me who that someone was? Or should I assume Orle is the prime suspect since he has no alibi?”
Orle’s eyes flicked toward the crowd. Diana smirked, clearly waiting for his slip.
‘Stupid girl.’
Orle had been deliberately slow in answering when he suddenly looked at Delun.
“I met Delun. Do I need to explain the details?”
He flashed a smile toward Diana, expecting her to look guilty.
Instead she remained perfectly calm.
“I never met him.”
Delun shook his head at the accusing stares.
“What are you talking about?! I told you I would meet you!”
“…”
Orle’s face twisted in fury.
“You! You told me—”
The words died in his throat. He could not speak of the conversation he had shared with Delun.
“I’m afraid I cannot verify Orle’s alibi at this moment.”
Elin’s voice cut through the tension. Orle’s expression darkened. If this continued he would be the prime suspect.
“Do you know why I remained so calm? That little worm warned me you would come! He told me Diana would frame me! Look at yourselves! Would I be this composed if I were innocent?!”
The crowd turned back to Delun. He still shook his head innocently.
“Very well. I shall bear Orle’s statement in mind. You are aware that perjury is punished severely, are you not, Delun?”
“Yes.”
“You have not met Orle.”
“I have never met him before today.”
“You—”
Orle exploded, but Delun’s men moved in front of him instantly.
The paladins wanted to draw their swords, yet they held back.
With no allies left, Orle panted in frustration, fists clenched.
“So? You think I stole the relic? Do not insult me! I am a proud—”
“It’s here!”
The City Guard burst in, carrying a ceremonial suit.
The very outfit Orle had worn at the ball.
Kali accepted the suit and held it up. Elin’s fingers brushed the fabric, then flipped the hem.
“This is Orsir Cloth. Not only rare, but difficult to obtain. Your family’s wealth must be considerable, Orle.”
Orle said nothing.
Elin continued, stroking the lustrous threads. “The shine is so perfect that repairing it would leave obvious stitches. This small tear here…”
“…Danced too much at the ball, I suppose. My shoes caught on something. The inner seam is hidden, so the servants probably missed it.”
“I see. Ah, this is a piece of Orsir Cloth discovered by the City Guard at the chapel. Unbelievable that it turned out to be exactly the same material.”
She produced a fragment smaller than her pinky fingernail and laid it beside the suit.
The torn edge matched perfectly.
Elin simply stared at Orle in silence.
“Whew… The chapel is a public place. The grain of the wooden benches is uneven; clothes catch easily. Someone’s hem is probably stuck on a bench even now.”
“Indeed. One must be more careful.”
Elin smiled sweetly.
“So is this evidence? A single scrap of cloth whose owner I cannot identify? Impressive. Anyone could be the culprit.”
“Orsir Cloth is not something anyone can simply obtain. Very well. I accept your point. We do have other evidence, but it has already been submitted to the City Guard. I cannot display it immediately. Would you like to see the new piece we just acquired? Seiban.”
The moment Elin called his name, Seiban entered with a bright smile.
“Hello, senior. Ah, no longer a senior, I suppose. What’s the difference?”
He was not alone.
Beside him stood a trembling maid, pale and wide-eyed.
The moment Seiban’s arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders, Orle’s face twisted into something demonic.
Seiban handed the written statement to the City Guard.
“She is only a servant; she will not speak well in this atmosphere. Please read the statement.”
“She’s nothing but a lowly maid! Do you trust something like this?!”
“You really think we came running here just for you?!”
Orle tried to protest, but Diana laughed brightly.
“If you came with such obvious intent to arrest someone, who would be the most anxious? The pathetic little worm? Or the lower servants who might be wrongly accused because their master is guilty?”
“…”
“Stop pretending to be kind. You should have been truly kind. Oh my, the trust in your master is absolutely zero.”
Orle trembled with barely contained rage, but there was nothing he could do. Paladins and knights stood around him like wolves, daring him to move.
“I did nothing wrong! You! You forgot your own gratitude and betrayed me?!”
“Yes, yes. You don’t need to look at that side. I’ll protect you.”
Seiban lifted the maid’s chin, forcing her to look straight at Orle.
“Orle Crucio. You committed unauthorized entry into the Ketel Order, stole the sacred relic, and falsely accused an innocent man. In addition, fearing the exposure of your own crime, you infiltrated the Ketel Order two days ago to erase all traces—and failed.”
“No! That’s not me!”
“Which one of us is not telling the truth? Ask the City Guard yourself.”
Elin stepped aside.
Orle roared in fury as the paladins dragged him away.
Even as an academy student he could not hope to win against the furious paladins.
Elin shrugged with a completely unbothered expression as she watched the man being hauled out.
“Case closed.”