Imperial Capital - 1
It was a dawn so early not even the faintest light of morning had shown itself. A little soon to begin the day, perhaps—but with the Imperial Capital this frantic of late, burying himself in his office ahead of schedule put his mind at ease.
If he lingered at the manor, guests would only come calling. If he left when everyone else did, the roads would be jammed. Either way, a nuisance.
So he rose carefully—only to feel a hand close around his wrist. He glanced to the side.
"Rio… are you leaving already?"
"Lana."
He stroked her hair with his free hand, and the half-open eyes that had been drifting somewhere between sleep and waking slid shut again.
She looked for all the world like a cat dozing off. Comparing a person to a cat was probably rude, of course—but still.
"I wanted to have breakfast together…"
Even with her eyes closed, Lana fretted, and he gave her back a gentle pat. It was true he'd been leaving for work without eating lately. She must feel lonely, left behind on her own.
But there was nothing for it. If he stayed at the manor, the crowds would gather there too, and Lana would end up exhausted right along with them. Loneliness was better than exhaustion, wasn't it?
"I'll be home for dinner. Don't worry."
"You promise…?"
She wriggled, then stuck out her little finger.
"Yes. I promise."
Only after he linked his finger with hers did Lana settle and fall back asleep.
I'd better get back early.
He slipped carefully out of bed so she wouldn't wake again.
Fortunately, coming home early wasn't hard. He wasn't clocking in early because the work was endless—if anything, starting sooner meant he could leave sooner.
Besides, Section 5 wasn't exactly the busiest unit in the Audit Department. Compared to Section 3, which was forever running all over the place, it was practically a desk job.
Please. Let nothing happen today.
The morning prayer he'd offered without fail every single day since becoming Section 5 Chief.
Naturally, it had almost never been answered.
Today's prayer failed as well. By now, that wasn't even surprising.
Something already?
The moment his hand touched the office doorknob, he felt it. Beyond that door, a spectacular mess was already in full swing.
But two years into this life, he had a decent read on these things. This was the kind of mess you could walk into without a problem.
Sure enough, when he opened the door, there was the Section 2 Chief, held by the collar in the Section 1 Chief's fist.
Nothing serious, then.
He relaxed. He'd half-worried his instincts might be off.
"Ah, Section 5 Chief."
The Section 3 Chief, tucked into a corner, greeted him the moment the door opened. Apparently he'd been taking cover from the Section 1 Chief's rampage.
At the Section 3 Chief's size, he stood out no matter where he was—but in her current state, the Section 1 Chief only had eyes for Section 2.
"You're early."
"Have to be. People cling to you left and right otherwise."
He nodded at the Section 3 Chief's words, the man scratching his head as if the whole business were a nuisance. If Rio found it tiresome, the other chiefs surely did too. Everyone was clocking in early for the same reason.
"I guess the Director's too scary, so they figure we're easy marks."
"A noble's curiosity does tend to outweigh their fear more often than not."
"Haaah. Fair point."
They traded empty remarks while blankly watching the Section 1 Chief's fury unfold.
Seeing the Section 2 Chief flutter like a paper doll in her grip was a little pitiful—but remembering he'd brought it on himself, any scrap of pity vanished in an instant.
That's what you get for running your mouth.
The thought of a few days ago drew a sigh from him on its own. Drunk or not, there were things you said and things you didn't.
The Audit Department officers' dinner. The catastrophe that erupted right there. The Section 2 Chief, who'd been careening around declaring he wanted to get properly wasted that night, had completely cut the string on his sanity.
"Hey. What are you gonna do now?"
"What are you talking about all of a sudden?"
The Section 2 Chief, well on his way to devolving into a dog, had barked at the Section 1 Chief as she sat quietly drinking. At the Section 1 Chief, of all people—who had looked to be in a foul mood for days.
"Her Grace the Demon Duke even met the prospective mother-in-law. What about you?"
At the Section 2 Chief's snickering, the Section 1 Chief's hand had gone still.
And everyone watching—Rio himself, the Deputy Director reaching for a side dish, the Section 3 Chief mid-message to his wife that he'd be late—had frozen solid.
The rumor that the Demon Duke had gone to the Director's territory, that she'd held a long, intimate conversation with the Countess—those had spread far and wide. It had been the event that announced she was seriously after the Director, and the Imperial Capital was still in an uproar over it.
And he'd gone and tied that incident to the Section 1 Chief.
I never thought she might actually…
Rio shook his head, watching the Section 1 Chief slam the Section 2 Chief into the floor just now.
If you connected the Demon Duke incident to the Section 1 Chief, the implication was obvious. That she, too, harbored feelings for the Director.
Truly, truly unexpected. He'd assumed the Section 2 Chief had simply lost his mind and was spouting nonsense—but the Section 1 Chief's reaction at that dinner had been more than enough to turn the "surely not" into a "yes."
"Shut your mouth!"
With a trembling hand, the Section 1 Chief had brought her glass down on the Section 2 Chief's head. The strike had been so clean and efficient he'd nearly been impressed.
Unfortunately, though, while she'd won the fight with the Section 2 Chief, she'd lost the war against the truth. That vicious reaction was, to anyone looking, the response of someone whose own foot had been stepped on.
"…Did you hear that?"
Wine dripping from his hair, the Section 2 Chief sprawled behind her, the Section 1 Chief had turned her gaze on the rest of them.
"Hm? I was talking to my wife. What did he say?"
The Section 3 Chief, conveniently fussing with his communication crystal, had managed to manufacture an alibi.
"I heard nothing."
From a superior like the Deputy Director, that single line was enough.
"……."
"……."
A choking exchange of stares with the Section 1 Chief.
Unable to withstand that silent killing intent, Rio had ended the dinner by putting on a four-legged crawl and making a show of being thoroughly drunk.
And so, officially, none of them knew the object of the Section 1 Chief's one-sided love.
"Ah, both of you are here!"
"Just got in."
As the Section 1 Chief turned their way with a look of something like relief, Rio nodded on pure instinct.
The Section 1 Chief's love. The Section 1 Chief's rage. He knew nothing.
Only the Section 2 Chief knew.
Hang in there.
He quietly offered his condolences to the Section 2 Chief, still twitching behind her.
Of course, it was all self-inflicted. Even if the Section 1 Chief was a long way from an ordinary woman, blabbing about a lady's secret affection was the sort of thing you got beaten to death for—and you'd have no grounds to complain.
He seemed to know it himself, given how he was just taking the hits.
He's hardly in a position to go running his mouth about love, though.
Thinking about it, it was almost funny. The night the Section 2 Chief had gone wild declaring he wanted to get wasted—everyone knew exactly why he'd been in that state.
The Minister's niece by marriage.
A snort nearly escaped him. Of all the people to get involved with.
Worse, the Minister had found out about the relationship. The Section 2 Chief had even been summoned to the Minister's office over it. That was why he'd been whining about wanting a drink that night.
Or maybe, having been raked over the coals for his own romance, he'd decided to rake someone else over theirs in return.
Remarkable tenacity. The determination never to die alone.
I am never living like that.
He was always an excellent cautionary tale.
The Deputy Director arrived late in the morning.
"Ah, Deputy Director!"
"You've arrived, sir."
"Yes."
The Deputy Director let out a small sigh. His face was worn thin with fatigue.
He always looked like that, really—but these days it was worse.
It's all piled onto him, then.
A pitiable situation. The man actually responsible—the Director—was far away, and the section chiefs under him were all in hiding. The only one left standing was the Deputy Director, so of course he alone was suffering.
In truth, the Deputy Director could have avoided it if he'd wanted to. But as the acting head of the department, he had to manage the unit. That inevitably meant meeting other departments and other nobles, so sooner or later someone was bound to catch him.
"Are you all right, sir? The rumors aren't dying down—if anything, they're burning hotter."
The Section 3 Chief spoke carefully, eyeing the haggard Deputy Director.
He wasn't wrong. Ordinarily rumors settled with time, but this one was scorching the Imperial Capital more fiercely with every passing day.
Though it was never the sort of rumor that settles quietly.
Granted, this one was flashy enough. The partner of the Demon Duke, who had lived alone for over a hundred years. A marriage for House Katorban, when people had even begun to wonder whether the line might end.
But this was excessive. As if someone were deliberately spreading—
…Right.
He cut the thought off on instinct. He'd nearly approached a dangerous secret. Useless curiosity only shortened one's life.
"I'm fine. I'll be able to catch my breath a little from now on."
So said the Deputy Director, and he sighed again—this time with a subtle thread of relief mixed in.
"The Director ordered that every contact from curious nobles be redirected to him."
"Oh."
At the Section 2 Chief's awed murmur from where he'd been holding his breath, Rio found himself nodding without meaning to.
That settles it.
A short, simple order—but nothing could have been more effective.
Most nobles wouldn't dare contact the Director directly. That was why they'd been picking the Deputy Director clean instead.
And anyone who could ask the Director to his face would already be teasing him about it. The Minister, for instance. Or the Minister. Or possibly the Minister.
"You do the same. The Director has given permission."
"Understood."
He answered promptly, glad of the news.
I wanted to have breakfast together…
Lana's words from before he'd left for work came back to him.
There was no longer any need to clock in early just to avoid people. An ordinary commute would be fine now—which meant he could have breakfast with Lana.
A relief. A husband sharing at least a meal with his wife was the least of his duties, wasn't it?
Imagining how happy Lana would be over even this small piece of news, the corner of his mouth twitched upward.
"Whoa. Looks like the Section 5 Chief's been through a lot too."
"Right? I haven't seen him smile in ages."
It went right back down.
I fiddled with my communication crystal and let out a sigh.
If the Deputy Director collapses, that would be a problem.
I'd been so busy managing my own sanity that I hadn't spared a thought for him.
That face that looked ready to faint the moment one more incident hit. Even through the crystal, the exhaustion had been plain.
So I'd told him to send the pests to me. The phrasing was a little off, but the meaning was close enough.
— Yes, Director. Thank you.
Hearing the gratitude had almost made me feel guilty.
And yet the moment I tell them to speak up, they can't even open their mouths.
Hours after declaring to the Deputy Director that anyone with complaints should come to me, my communication crystal had been astonishingly quiet.
All that noise, and the second the table was set, no one would eat. If anyone had actually contacted me, I'd have been prepared to talk very, very kindly.
Of course, this was the outcome I'd wanted. What kind of lunatic would ask the Audit Department Chief, So, sir, are you basically the pillar of House Katorban now?
What.
And no sooner had that thought crossed my mind than the crystal vibrated. Not a call—a message.
The moment I read it, I quietly closed my eyes. The sheer wretchedness of it made it hard to open them again. I had a pretty good idea who'd sent it.
A message that looked like its author had been absorbing alcohol in heroic quantities since midday.
This is… the Wise Duke?
I could not suppress the desolation that washed over me.
Forget Wise Duke. This was the Wine Duke.