Chapter Text
In a way, I suppose I deserved it.
To be abandoned after I’d turned my back on everyone I’d ever cared for. My best friend and my faithful judicial assistant left me behind without a second thought.
And since Stronghart paid for my hotel during the time I was prosecuting Lord van Zieks, once I was back from the docks, I was forced to turn back to the man I tried to throw in jail.
“What do you want?” Lord van Zieks asked as I stood on his doorstep. He looked dreadful; it was only 7 PM, yet he wore twisted nightclothes and his hair was tousled. And if I wasn’t mistaken, he swayed a little on his feet.
“I have nowhere to stay.” I bowed my head deeply, “I don’t expect you to-”
“Clearly you do, or else you wouldn’t be here.” He snapped, and I began regretting my decision to come here. Perhaps the streets would’ve been better, “Stand up straight. And get out of the rain.”
So, I stepped inside, and he reluctantly told me that I could have my old room back until a decision was reached by whoever would be appointed Chief Justice. “What kind of decision do you think will be made?”
“I don’t know, and quite frankly, I don’t care. Now, you know where your room is. Go there and stay there.” Before I had the chance to do either of those things, he stormed off, or at least tried to, but it was clear he was under the influence of something .
After the news he’d received yesterday, I couldn’t exactly blame him.
The very next morning, breakfast was delivered to my bedroom by his head servant, along with a note.
If it does not inconvenience you, I would appreciate it if you remained in this hall. If you must go outside, use the door in the kitchen. I would like privacy in my own home at this time.
I was lucky he was even housing me, so I followed his request, but only a few days passed before the new Chief Justice was appointed, and we were called into his office. Not much of the office had changed, though the suits of armor had been removed. The man himself rose from his desk to greet us, surprisingly not much taller than me, but regardless he held an air of authority. He appeared to be a man in his mid-fifties, maybe later, with a clean-kept beard which was graying quicker than his head, but not by a large margin.
“Lord van Zieks. It feels strange calling you that.” The man remarked as he shook his hand, his voice echoing through the large room. Unlike Stronghart, however, his voice carried a friendly lilt to it. A sign of both authority and benevolence. At least, for my sake, I certainly hoped so. I wonder how he knows him..?
“Lord Pritchard. Congratulations on your new position.” Lord van Zieks seemed to regard him with respect, the way he bowed slightly to him.
“Thank you.” He turned to me with his sharp, so brown they were almost black eyes, and suddenly, I felt quite small. “Mr. Asogi.” He held out his hand, and I shook it, though his grip was far firmer than I expected, “I was in attendance at the trial, of course. So I’m fully aware of your history.”
I was preparing to bow and apologize when he added, “I understand your position. You were blackmailed, in a way, by a very powerful member of the judiciary. You were a young man with your whole life ahead of you. He had the potential to destroy it.” I wasn’t sure what to say. “You’re a capable attorney.”
“Thank you.” I managed to say, though my voice felt quiet and tinny in my own ears.
“I’ve given this a great deal of thought, you understand. And I believe, for now, I will allow you to stay, but in a sort of probationary role with restrictions. Firstly, I’m afraid I cannot allow you to carry any weapons.”
No weapons? Van Zieks and I get into so many fights- “But, my Lord, I need this-”
“I’ve quite made up my mind.”
“With all due respect, My Lord, you’re aware that I get attacked often .” Lord van Zieks added in my defense.
“Then he’d best stay away from you.” He gave a stiff smile, “I must insist, you will not carry any weapons until further notice. So, I will have to confiscate that sword.”
“The sword is my property.” Lord van Zieks interjected.
“Perfect! That means I don’t have to keep track of it.” So, I begrudgingly detached it from my hip and handed it back to Lord van Zieks. “Excellent. Now; the other terms.”
His other terms were simple and understandable, if not aggravating. I was to continue under Lord van Zieks as his apprentice. I could assist him in court, and I could go to crime scenes as long as I was supervised. But no handling cases on my own.
I supposed I was lucky I wasn’t being deported, so I agreed. I was especially happy when I found out I’d get a stipend. “Lord Stronghart never gave me a stipend.” I commented stupidly.
“Well, he wasn’t exactly a nice fellow, was he?” He joked sarcastically, then wrote out a check at his desk, “This is all I’m authorized to give you at this time. Just to help you get on your feet, you understand.”
I’d never had this much money in my life. Granted, it wasn’t a large sum by any means, but it was certainly more than I earned at my part time job in Japan. “Thank you, my Lord.”
I moved out of Lord van Zieks’s house by the end of the week. The new place was small, the walls were only a little thicker than the shoji screens back home, the wallpaper was peeling off, and the neighbors gave me dirty looks anytime they saw me, but it was a place of my own. A place where I didn’t have to worry about disturbing a drunkard who was quick to anger.
The mood of the office was stifling. Lord van Zieks looked worse than I’d ever seen him, and he declined lunch every day. He started looking paler and thinner as the weeks passed, but I didn’t dare say anything. His health wasn’t my responsibility, especially since he was treating me even colder now than he did before I regained my memory.
There was a knock on the door. I turned just in time to see Lord van Zieks’s head jerk up from his hand as the door opened to a bobby, “There’s been a murder over on Lumpert street.”
He dropped his quill into the ink pot with a heavy sigh, mumbling something I couldn’t hear under his breath. “Are there any detectives present?”
“Jr. Inspector Lestrade sent for you, if she counts.”
“Excellent. Mr. Asogi, go.”
I stared at him in amazement, “Me? By myself?”
“Did you not hear me?”
Is his memory slipping? “Lord Pritchard said you had to supervise me-”
“He said that you had to be supervised. He didn’t specify by whom . I assume a Jr. Inspector on the scene should be adequate supervision, yes?” He directed his attention to the bobby, who looked quite put on the spot.
“I would imagine so, sir.”
“Then go.”
Leaving the office was a breath of fresh air. Lumpert street wasn’t very far from the offices, so I walked, admiring the light snowfall and the bustle of the streets as people went about their lives. I wondered if I’d ever be among them, living a quiet and serene life without all of these worries. It was wishful thinking, but I suppose I was feeling optimistic that day.
Feeling refreshed, I opened the door to the crime scene and-
My favorable mood was ruined.
“Gina, I’m telling you, the victim was killed when he ingested this furniture polish!” The great detective, Herlock Sholmes, held a bottle directly in front of Lestrade’s face.
“And wot the blazes would ‘e do that for, eh?!” She argued and swatted the bottle out of her face. “Just leave the investigatin’ to me!”
“I think you mean your superior, Inspector Marshall.” Sholmes smirked.
“Well, ‘e’s left the investigatin’ to me, and so should you!”
At this moment, Sholmes caught my eye over her shoulder and positively lit up, “Mr. Asogi! Surely you will see sense, hm?”
He grabbed me by my shoulders and dragged me from the entryway into the living area, “The victim was found lying on this sofa here, and there are no signs of struggle besides this bottle, upturned on the floor. This bottle contained furniture polish. I believe you overheard my conclusion.”
“Yes, I did…” I grumbled and shrugged off Sholmes’s possessive arms, “Lestrade, what are your conclusions?”
She put her hand to her chin in thought, “Not quite sure yet. We’ve combed the whole place and can’t find a single lead. S’pose it all rides on what Ria’s autopsy shows.”
“How long has the body been removed?”
“About an hour ago. She should have somefin’ by now… wanna go wiv me?”
“I don’t see why not.” To be honest, I would love to; it meant leaving the sight of this detective and not having to be alone with a corpse and a woman wielding a cleaver.
Truthfully, I’d rather not go into the place at all. The smell of disinfectant was strong enough to give anyone a headache, assuming you went in after the subject of Dr. Gorey’s work had long been removed. If you go in while a corpse is still there, expect to struggle not to lose your lunch.
Unless you’re Lord van Zieks, I suppose, because he seemed utterly unaffected by it when we first went.
I was surprised when Lestrade knocked on the door instead of flinging it open, and called, “Ria!!!”
“Gina!!! Perfect timing, I’ve just made a wonderful discovery. Do come in!”
“Is the bloke open on yer table?”
“Oh, right!” Muffled shuffling came from inside, “One second, I’ll come out there.”
Dr. Gorey finally opened the door, her apron stained a color that I didn’t want to focus on. “I see we have an uncommon visitor.” She commented with a gleam in her eye, “Too bad you’re alive. I still really want to cut open an Eastern corpse.”
I tried to swallow my uneasiness and move on, noticing the papers in her hands, “Do you have a report?”
“Not a report , but preliminary notes.” She handed them to Lestrade, but explained them in her own words to both of us, “Suspecting poisoning, I first checked the contents of his stomach. He’d consumed a significant amount of alcohol, but I couldn’t find anything suspicious.”
“Was it enough alcohol to kill him, perhaps?” I stopped her before she could continue her quick-paced rant.
“No.” She said very definitively, “On a hunch, I checked his body extra carefully and discovered a small puncture wound in his thigh.”
“Stabbed in the thigh? What a way to go.” Lestrade commented.
“Not stabbed. Shot. Likely by a syringe.”
“Was there a similar mark on his clothing?”
“That’s just the thing!” She said with a bright smile, “There’s not, which indicates that he was injected while his thighs were exposed.”
“Have you determined the type of poison?” I pressed.
“No, I just made this discovery only a few moments ago; I’ll have to go test the blood.”
“Well, you’ve been very helpful, thank you.”
“Mhm. I’ll get back to it!”
We went back to the crime scene just to double-check our work, but really, there was nothing else to do. Once I’d put off going back to the office as much as I could, I sighed and took my leave.
It was just as stifling as it was when I left.
Only, a few hours later, Dr. Gorey dropped in. She glanced between the two of us with a file in her hands, and Lord van Zieks nodded to me. “Well, I’ve got the results.”
She explained that he was killed with a slow-acting poison, one that would’ve probably been administered 8 to 10 hours prior to the incident. “Gina and I have dinner plans tonight and we plan to discuss the next course of action. Would you like to come?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude-”
“You’re not intruding! You’re a part of this investigation now, too.” She turned backward to Lord van Zieks, “If you’d like, you can come as well.”
To no one’s surprise, he declined, but made sure I knew I was free to go.
So, feeling unable to decline, I grabbed my cloak and joined her, finding that Lestrade was waiting in the carriage parked in the street. I expected it to be awkward but the moment I entered, they were both excitedly speculating about the case.
“His Aunt claims he just got back from some trip the day before he croaked, but she don’t know when.” Lestrade explained, “I’ve got the lads lookin’ into it now.”
“And Herlock Sholmes, I’ve no doubt.” I mumbled under my breath.
She groaned, “He’s right mad, he is! Furniture polish! Are ya bloody kiddin’ me?!” I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“What about his successes, though?”
“Few and far in-between. Without Oddo around, he’s helpless.”
“Who?” Dr. Gorey asked.
“Oddo.” She repeated, like we should’ve known upon hearing it another time. She groaned in frustration, “Ya know, the Japanese bloke!”
I was utterly amazed by how his name could be so horribly butchered and shortened, “ Ryunosuke Naruhodo? ”
“Yeah, that’s the one.” She didn’t seem to have a care in the world about being utterly unwilling to learn to pronounce his name, “He was always fixing wot Sholmes screwed up. I dunno how he’ll manage to pay the bills wivout him.”
“I have a feeling Iris has a large hand in the bills with her Randst columns.” Dr. Gorey theorized, “You know, they’re quite good, especially for a kid her age.”
The conversation lulled while we transitioned from coach to restaurant, but once we’d ordered, it picked right back up, speculating about the murder and discussing the facts. Along with ordering a drink or two. When we’d exhausted the murder, Dr. Gorey asked, “I know you’ve been here for quite a while, but how are you liking London?”
“Honestly, I despise the place.” I admitted bluntly, the alcohol doing me no favors, “It’s always rainy and foggy, everyone avoids you like the plague- well, me, anyway, and your food is terrible .”
She laughed, “I’ve heard that from visitors before.”
“I’d like to see where you come from, then.” Lestrade commented.
“You’re welcome to visit.” I replied a bit snarkily.
“I ain’t never even left London . I dunno about goin’ ‘round the world.”
I shrugged, “It’s not so bad.”
The evening continued like that, just casual talk until eventually, they dropped me off a little ways from my complex (truth be told, I knew Dr. Gorey likely lived in a place similar to Lord van Zieks, and I didn’t want her to see my shabby rooms.)
However, on my walk, I discovered a very small, black cat rummaging through a trash can. “Can you not find anything in there?” It rushed to get out, then hid in the back of the alley. I’ve got some bread at home that’s about to go bad…
So I brought it outside, and sat it down in the alley. I walked a reasonable distance away and waited to see if it would actually eat it. Luckily, after a brief hesitation, it did so, catching my eye and looking at me suspiciously. “It’s okay, friend. I’m not trying to hurt you.”
Once the bread was gone (which was alarmingly fast, I must add,) I slowly kneeled and held my hand out. It eyed me suspiciously, came forward to sniff, then nudged my hand with its head. I took the signal to pet, and started lightly scratching it on top of the head, “Do you like that? Oh, you like under the chin, don’t you?” It did, purring gently as I scratched it.
It came even closer, in fact, and I ended up staying outside for longer than I meant to. And by the time I started walking home, I shouldn’t have been surprised that it followed me.
The last thing I needed was something else to worry about. And yet this little cat was looking up at me with the most adorable, pleading eyes. How was I supposed to say no?
So, I allowed it to come inside, soon finding out it was a her. And only one name came to mind; the woman who raised me, and who raised the cats my father kept while he was away in Britain; Kaya Asogi.
“Do you like the name Kaya?”
She meowed and nudged me in response, so it was settled.
The only other thing of note that happened that week was when Herlock Sholmes and Iris barged into the office to force Lord van Zieks and I into lunch, but under the guise of delivering a letter to me from Japan. It was probably the most awkward lunch I’d ever eaten in my entire life, Iris so bubbly in contrast to Lord van Zieks’s stiffness, and I suppose my own coldness.
As soon as I got home, I ripped that envelope open, and steeled myself for a stern talking-to.
Sure enough, there were multiple pieces of paper inside, the one on top I recognized as Professor Mikotoba’s handwriting.
Dear Asogi,
I apologize that we had to leave so soon. I very much worry about you in Britain by yourself. I know I struggled with racial discrimination, and that was before two Japanese lawyers took down the Chief Justice.
If you’d like to come home, we would be happy to have you. Regardless of what you almost did, you are still a part of this family.
Please let us know how you’re doing. Stay well, eat well, rest when you need to, and become the best man you can be. I believe in you.
To save room in the envelope, the rest of this paper is Susato.
I put the letter down before I could even get there, my eyes blurring with burning moisture. I tried to kill someone. Why doesn’t Professor Mikotoba care? Or does he, and these words are empty?
Professor Mikotoba had never been much of a liar, though. Whether it was in writing or otherwise.
I took a moment to collect myself, then continued.
Good afternoon, Kazuma-sama. Like Father said, I’m sorry I left. I know I really should’ve stayed with you. I think I just missed home. I missed Father. I missed Rei. Much like you must miss Naruhodo-san.
You’re an easy-going person. Surely you can make some more friends in London. I know they won’t be the same, but they could help. Perhaps you could try to befriend Iris and Mr. Sholmes, I’m sure they’d be happy to have you.
Just don’t isolate yourself, please. Keep that confidence you had while you were here. Hold your head high. Don’t let any of those stuffy Englishmen intimidate THE Kazuma Asogi, hair-doing expert.
As Father said, stay in touch. I hope to see you soon.
Signed, Yujin and Susato Mikotoba
The memory of doing Susato’s hair before any major events she had to attend because Professor Mikotoba didn’t know how struck me harder than it really should’ve. Then all the times we rough-housed as younger kids. All the time I spent in the kitchen, learning how to cook her favorite foods, and eventually teaching her. Teaching her how to do her own hair. Teaching her how to speak English.
As much as I’d denied considering myself a part of their family, I was. And while I didn’t consider myself Mikotoba’s son by any means whatsoever, over time, I had most definitely grown to subconsciously consider Susato something of a sister. And realizing that while they were all the way across the world was absolutely soul crushing.
I nearly forgot that Ryunosuke had written me a letter at all in the midst of all of those emotions. It was almost as if Kaya could sense my uneasiness, because she curled up on top of one of my feet.
Dear Kazuma,
I hope you’re doing well, although I’m sure everyone is saying that. I’ve been incredibly busy and I’ve been struggling to find the right words for you. I’m tired of waiting for them to come, so I’m just writing something, and hoping it’s okay.
I reflected on our time on the S.S. Burya.
My heart sunk at the line. In truth, I couldn’t remember most of our time there. Only that it was the tip of the iceberg.
You were planning to try to use me as your defence attorney after murdering Gregson, I see that now. But you weren’t necessarily pleased about it. And because of the fact that once you had your memories back, you still couldn’t follow through, I don’t believe you would have if everything went according to plan. Deep down, I think you wanted my help. Not my complicity. You wanted me to help you find a way to escape it.
I’m not sure what else to say. I hope you aren’t being too harsh on yourself. I know you have a tendency to do so. Just think of it this way; no harm came from anything you did. No real harm. You were a cog in a bigger system, and an easily replaceable cog, at that. If you didn’t agree to prosecute Lord van Zieks, Stronghart would have done it himself.
Take care of yourself, Kazuma. I’d really like to see you again soon and healthy.
Sincerely, Ryunosuke Naruhodo
Ryunosuke had always been soft-hearted, but he’d never been good with his words. But in this letter, much like in court last time, he was perfectly articulated and expressive. In all of the worst ways for me.
The man was too kind. Too kind for his own good. He always had been.
While I couldn’t accept his words right now, they were at least something I could reference later.
~~~~
When I went into work the next morning, I certainly was not expecting the Lord Chief Justice to be sitting at Lord van Zieks’s desk. “My Lord.” I greeted hesitantly, “I hope you weren’t waiting on me-”
“I knew I was arriving early.” He explained casually, looking through Lord van Zieks’s papers. “I’m working on dividing these papers in half. But I’m having to dig through his notes to see where there is a divide, so that I can take some papers away, and leave papers for you.”
“Where did Lord van Zieks go..?”
“Taking a much-needed vacation, and spending time with a friend.” I raised my eyebrows at that, “I may or may not have told him he can’t come back for a week.”
“Why?”
“It was clear the man needed a break.” He was right, but I was surprised he cared. “But as we’re on the subject, how has he been to you?”
I hesitated under his gaze, again wondering if this was someone I could trust, “It’s hard to answer honestly when I know you have a personal connection with him.”
He flashed a confident smile in response, “I assure you, I will not jump to his defense. He’s a difficult man, and I’ve heard he has been quite prejudiced for many years. I assure you, whatever you say will stay between us.”
If he’s sure, then… “It’s difficult, as you said. He’s very cold, and I’m, well… also cold, I suppose. It’s difficult to forgive him, and I’m sure he feels the same way about me.”
“Does it affect your work?”
“Not that I’ve noticed.”
“He’s not short with you while giving you advice or reviewing?”
I hesitated again, tilting my head, “Over the past week or so he’s been more high-strung than normal, so he has been a bit short, but before then he was giving me helpful pointers and advice. Just, usually with a peppered insult or slight somewhere, but as far as I can tell it’s not vicious.”
“I see. He was nothing like this as a young man. The polar opposite. Of course, I’d heard rumors, but I hadn’t expected him to remain cold whenever I spoke to him privately. I figured his cold persona was an act.”
“I highly doubt it.”
“Well, that’s enough speculation.” He gathered a stack of papers, “You will let me know if there are any problems in the future?”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“Excellent.”
So, the work was divided, and I was working much longer hours than usual. It was only now that I really began to realize that Lord van Zieks was not giving me half of the paperwork previously.
I had headaches nearly daily. I made sure I was resting a somewhat appropriate amount, but by lunchtime, that dull throbbing would always return. I was ready for Lord van Zieks back in the office on Monday, and was surprised to see only the Chief Justice instead. We both waited for some time before he decided he’d drop by his residence to ensure his safety.
“I want to come.”
“Really? I thought you disliked each other?”
Oh, we do. I just don’t hate him enough to wish him harm. “He’s still my boss. I’m still worried.”
So, we rode together, and appeared at his doorstep. I must admit, despite how angry he made me, my heart was thrumming out of my chest as we waited for an answer to the doorbell.
The door finally opened to the head servant, Ms. Simms, “Oh! Is something the matter?” She asked, recognizing both of us instantly.
“That’s what I was going to ask you .” Lord Pritchard replied, “Lord van Zieks was due back for work today. Have you heard from him recently?”
“Yes. I served he and his friend breakfast this very morning.”
“It’s not like him to avoid going to work.” I blurted out.
“You’re right, it’s not. But his spirits have seemed to be better with Mr. Harebrayne around, and I think he’s trying to savor the time before he has to go back to Germany.”
“Do you know when that may be?”
“I do not.”
“Well, let him know he can take as much time as he needs or even wants. But I can’t guarantee I won’t be down here again to check up on him.” Lord Pritchard concluded with a short bow.
“Of course. I’ll pass it along. Thank you.”
We said our goodbyes, and the door shut. “Very strange man, indeed.” Lord Pritchard seemed to mumble to himself as we made our way back to the carriage.
As I worked into the night, my headache seemed to intensify. But I knew I had to get these documents done, and I had to get them done tonight.
Until I started seeing bright, white flashing lights in the bottom half of my vision.
I groaned and shut my eyes, though that only made the flashing appear even brighter. I grabbed my head and took a few deep breaths, nausea beginning to settle into my stomach on top of it all.
When the door unexpectedly burst open, I winced and clutched my head tighter, especially as it was accompanied by Lestrade all but shouting, “Soggy!”
I took a deep breath to settle the nausea and turned around, “Soggy?” My voice was weak in my own ears.
“You look terrible.” Dr. Gorey observed. I didn’t have the energy to think of a rebuttal. I shut my eyes for a moment, and was quite surprised to feel a cold hand on my forehead. I recoiled, but Dr. Gorey didn’t seem to care, “You’re not feverish, but you’re very pale. Do you have any symptoms?”
“Don’t trouble yourself with me-”
“I may specialize in dead people, but I am a trained doctor. And I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on.”
I sighed in defeat, “I have a headache. And it includes these, um… blinking lights and, uh- stomach sickness. There. Are you happy?”
“I am. I came to invite you to dinner, but I think it’d be best if we took you straight home.”
“I have work to finish-”
“I don’t care.”
“Lord Pritchard will-”
“I’ll tell him that I examined you and you were ill. He’ll understand. Do you need help getting up?”
I rolled my eyes, “My head hurts, not my legs.” But when I stood, I was overtaken with a sense of dizziness, and did require their help, although only for a moment.
“Wot was that ‘bout yer legs?” Lestrade asked.
“Let’s just get him to the carriage, Gina.” The force at which these medium-to-small sized girls man-handled me (for lack of a better term) through the building was impressive. I insisted I didn’t need help, yet they insisted that I did.
I supposed I should’ve expected it of Lestrade, having grown up as a pickpocket on the streets. But Dr. Gorey matched her strength just as well. I found myself idly wondering if it took a great deal of strength to cut up corpses.
The carriage ride was miserable. It tripled the nauseous feeling, though luckily, I hadn’t eaten anything to hurl up. When we at last arrived back, I realized they’d insist on walking me to my dingy apartment. (Or, more embarrassingly, that I’d actually need them to.)
Kaya was waiting by the door to be let inside, and I internally groaned at the explanation I’d have to give. “There a reason there’s a cat at yer door?” Lestrade asked.
“Yes, she stays with me.”
“You didn’t strike me as a cat person.” Dr. Gorey remarked as Lestrade unlocked the door. I didn’t even have the capacity to be concerned about how easily she’d gotten them off of me without me realizing.
The ladies helped me to my small bedroom, never once commenting on the state of the place, which made me feel a little better. “Does yer cat need food?” Lestrade asked as I trudged through the drawing room to my bedroom.
“No, she doesn’t eat.” I couldn't stop myself from spouting off, “I have some bread in the cabinet…” I shut my eyes, and after debating it for a moment, decided I didn’t have the energy to remove any clothes. I just fell backwards on the bed. I heard her bumping around the kitchen and speaking to Kaya, and didn’t realize I still had company until I felt my boot being pulled off. I jerked my head up, causing a wave of dizziness, “What-”
“Since I work with corpses, I’ve gotten fairly efficient at removing clothing.” Dr. Gorey said matter-of-factly, “I’m sure you don’t want help with everything else, but I figured I could help with your shoes.”
I let my head fall back onto the mattress and shut my eyes again. Hopefully this will all be over soon…
I faintly remember hearing them ask if I needed anything else, but I’m not sure if I even answered. I don’t believe I heard them leave.
The next morning, thankfully, the pressure in my head was gone, replaced by a pressure on my chest. Kaya was lying on me, something she’d never done. The closest she’d gotten was the edge of the bed. “What are you doing here, Kaya..? Could you tell I was sick?”
She stood up and sniffed my face, then purred and loafed right in the center of my chest. I chuckled and pet her, for some reason tearing up. She cared about me much like a mother would. And I had friends who helped me here; even removed my boots. Did I ever even thank them..?
The evening had become such a blur, I couldn’t recall.
~~~~~
Not two days after that, Lord Pritchard burst into the office in the mid-afternoon holding up a newspaper. He plopped it down on my desk with force.
Klint van Zieks a Secret Murderer?! The ‘Reaper’ Reveals All!
“No…” I said in pure disbelief, reading further to see that Lord van Zieks was, in fact, quoted himself in the publication.
“Indeed. And while it may be the noble thing to do, it puts the prosecutor’s office in an incredibly delicate position! He should’ve at least warned me.” He grumbled, then suddenly a grim thought seemed to hit him as his eyes widened and his face slightly paled, “I should probably go check on him. Are you going to insist on coming?”
The thought hit me then, and it was dizzying. That’s why he didn’t come back to work; he never planned to. He’d say goodbye to his best friend and his loyal servant, publicize the truth, and remove himself from the consequences of those actions.
I did insist on going.
The first surprise was when we were greeted by the gate being locked, and three guards standing outside of it. Lord Pritchard held out his badge, “I am the Lord Chief Justice, I need to speak to Lord van Zieks about work.”
The guard nearest the carriage looked over at me, “Who is that?”
“His apprentice.”
He turned to consult the other guards, then nodded. We closed the carriage door as they opened the gates. “That’s a good sign, isn’t it?” I asked after a brief hesitation.
He shrugged, “He could be trying to protect his servants. There’s only one way to know.”
After having to explain our position again to the guards outside, the door was opened by Ms. Simms and one guard. “Oh, Lord Pritchard.” She sighed in relief, “Neither of them are any danger.” She announced to their guards, then waved us inside. “We’re trying not to leave the doors or windows open for too long, you understand.”
“Of course…” We were led to the sitting room, where we were encouraged to sit.
“I can ask Lord Barok if he’ll see you, but I can’t guarantee he’ll feel up to it.” She admitted.
“Is he alright?” Lord Pritchard finally asked.
She rubbed her head with a gloved hand, “That’s a hard question to answer.” She mumbled, then straightened again, “As alright as someone in his situation could possibly be, I suppose.”
“You’ve seen him recently? ” I pressed, before wondering with a twinge of embarrassment if I’d just interrupted the Chief Justice. I was too anxious to glance over to read his expression, so I kept my eyes locked on her.
“Just this morning, yes. The guards arrived, so he had to give them their orders, along with some suggestions for myself and my helpers. Oh, and then he left to speak to the press, of course.”
“What time did you last see him?”
“He came home around 9:30, I believe. Why are you asking?”
We both shared a troubled glance, “I am merely concerned about his… safety .”
“There are plenty of guards to thwart attacks.” She commented, clearly missing the underlying message.
It seemed Lord Pritchard wasn’t comfortable saying it, so I stepped in, “We’re worried he’s going to attempt suicide, if he hasn’t already.”
She dropped her amicable expression to a more grim one, though not a surprised one. “I have locked away all of his weapons in the cellar, and he cannot access the key. I’ve also made sure he has no alcohol around. The only thing I couldn’t control is his windows; I suppose he could jump out of them, but the guards would’ve found him if he did. And trust me, I check up on him often. I haven’t seen any signs that he has that urge.”
I wasn’t sure if we were supposed to be relieved that she was taking such precautions, or worried that she felt she had to go to such extremes. She sensed our unease, and added, “I will go check up on him right now.”
She was gone only a few minutes, and returned with no surprise on her face, “He is fine. And he will continue to be fine. You needn’t worry.”
So, with nothing but her assurances to go by, we left.