Chapter 32 -

“Sir Spencer!”

The door opened, and before Amon could even step fully into the room, I rushed toward the doorway. Just as I expected, the wind and rain surged through the open gap.

“You’ll get soaked. Please come inside.”

Amon quickly stepped in and pulled the lever to shut the door. Even in that brief moment, the rain had formed a round wet patch on the floor. Naturally, his condition was no exception.

“Are you alright?”

From his drenched shoulders to his hair plastered against his forehead—it was so severe that I hesitated to reach out, asking instead with a pause. Amon gestured dismissively as if to tell me to step back.

Then, just like a puppy would, he shook his head briskly. Water sprayed in all directions, and his silver-gray hair regained a semblance of its original color. His comical appearance almost made me laugh, but Amon, unfazed, quickly carried the belongings he had brought further into the room.

“What’s all this?”

“These are items you mentioned needing, my lady.”

All I had asked for were a book and a clock, but the bundle looked far too large for that. Perhaps concerned about water seeping in, Amon wasted no time unpacking as he added,

“I brought a few blankets just in case. The weather’s quite harsh today.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.”

Amon neatly folded the blankets and placed them on a chair, then organized a few books, a notebook, and a quill.

“These are books recommended by Carlyle. I heard they’re similar to the novels you usually enjoy.”

If Carlyle recommended them, they were surely worth trusting. As I skimmed the titles, I found myself intrigued. Picking up the thinnest volume, I quickly flipped through it.

Watching me intently, Amon spoke.

“I didn’t realize you had an interest in novels.”

Hadn’t he mentioned knowing I frequented the Order’s library? I looked at him, puzzled, and he added,

“Actually, I didn’t even know the library had novels. I thought it was strictly for research purposes.”

“Ah...”

Given Carlyle's unwavering focus on research whenever he was there, I could understand the misconception. The library wasn’t exactly abundant in literary works, either.

“Do you not like novels, Sir Spencer?”

His demeanor suggested as much, so I asked, and Amon hesitated briefly before nodding slightly as if I’d hit the mark.

“I enjoy books, but novels... well, they are works of fiction, after all.”

“That’s true.”

To me, though, even fictional stories had become a kind of truth.

“More importantly, lady, I have something to tell you.”

Having hung the clock on the wall, Amon took a seat opposite me. His face was so grave that I immediately set the book aside.

“Is it bad news?”

Nodding, Amon said,

“Lord Hayden Bollef has passed away.”

The words came fast and precise, as though swallowing bitter medicine in one gulp.

I found myself gaping, unable to even ask for clarification. As his calm, low voice recounted the details, I couldn’t help but picture Hayden’s final moments. His pale body slumped in that dimly lit cell.

Dead. Just a short while ago, he had been talking to me.

I had no deep attachment to him. We hadn’t spent enough time together for that. Yet Hayden had been the only person I’d met who truly knew Julia—the real Julia. For better or worse, he had even helped her.

“To think he’s dead, so unceremoniously.”

“It seems he chose to end his life,” Amon continued after a pause.

“You mean... he committed suicide?”

“To be precise, it seems he was driven to it. Mentally cornered, as it were.”

The weight in my chest grew heavier. It was hard to deny that I bore some responsibility for pushing him into such a corner. Perhaps Amon thought the same.

“In any case...” Amon broke the silence.

“This confirms there’s a traitor within the Order.”

“Indeed. But the problem remains—we still don’t know which of the three suspects it could be. And there’s no lead on that glass, is there?”

“None. According to Carlyle...”

Amon began recounting the events surrounding the incident—how the Order’s members typically accessed the detention cells and the particularly suspicious movements of the three suspects.

“After the infiltration mission ended that day, they claimed to have stayed in their quarters, but there’s no way to prove it... Lady?”

“Ah, yes?”

I quickly lifted my head. I remembered listening to the part about Boyd's movements, but before I knew it, I had dozed off, nodding with my head tilted.

Embarrassed, I cleared my throat and tightly shut my eyes for a moment before reopening them.

“Sorry. I must have drifted off for a moment...”

“You should rest. It’s well past time for that.”

Amon spoke with an expression devoid of any humor.

“I may have arrived too late. I was worried about being followed...”

“No, it’s fine. Really.”

Even as I said this, my gaze wandered to the clock Amon had hung on the wall. It was, indeed, late. I had also spent the previous night tossing and turning in an unfamiliar place, unable to sleep.

‘Maybe I’m relaxing because Amon is here.’

“I’m perfectly fine.”

Before I realized it, Amon had risen and was arranging the blankets on the bed.

“Lay this one down, and cover yourself with this. If it gets cold, let me know tomorrow, and I’ll bring more blankets. We can’t light the fireplace because of the smoke.”

He worked with the precision of a seasoned steward. Despite his care, feelings of guilt and awkwardness caused me to hesitate. Noticing my reluctance, Amon spoke again.

“We can continue this conversation tomorrow. There’s no reason for you to stay up so late just to listen. I already feel bad enough about making you stay here.”

Though it wasn’t his fault, he still seemed troubled by my presence in this place.

“Really, it’s alright. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Yet, despite my words, another yawn escaped. Amon stood by the bed and looked at me, silently urging me to rest.

Maybe I should just lie down. As I took a hesitant step toward the bed, I turned back to Amon, struck by a sudden thought.

“Um, wouldn’t it be better if you left first?”

“Pardon?”

“Well, I mean... Do you really need to watch me get into bed?”

At my remark, Amon’s mouth opened slightly. After a brief hesitation, he replied,

“I thought it might be unsafe to handle work inside the Order’s building, considering the traitor might still be at large. I thought I’d stay here to finish some work.”

“Work?”

“I need to write a detailed report on Lord Hayden’s death. Since the culprit might still be in the building, doing it there feels... risky.”

“But your office is on the third floor. Would a traitor really go out of their way to access it just for a report? Is there some critical clue in it?”

I asked out of genuine curiosity, but Amon hesitated awkwardly.

‘What’s this?’

It felt like I had said something tactless.

“Um... Of course, if you’d prefer to stay—”

“I thought you might be afraid to stay here alone.”

“What?”

His sudden confession left me blinking in surprise.

Of course, I was afraid. Terrified, even. But to think Amon would be concerned about that? Just a short while ago, he had locked Hayden in that dark, cold cell without a second thought.

‘Is it because of what I said back then?’

Everything—his reluctance to leave before, his awkwardness now—made sense if that were the case.

“...It seems I assumed too much. If it bothers you, Lady—”

“No, no!”

I hurriedly denied his words. In truth, I wasn’t bothered at all. If anything, I felt several times more at ease with him around. His presence alone was reassuring.

A loud thud echoed as the walls shook, as if on cue.

I had barely slept last night out of fear, and now, with the storm raging outside, it felt even more unsettling. Having Amon here was undeniably comforting.

After sneaking a glance at him, I gave a small nod as if reluctantly agreeing.

“You’re right. It would be uncomfortable to handle such matters in the Order building, especially with the traitor potentially lurking about. Who knows what might happen.”

“...What?”

I sat on the edge of the bed and added with feigned indifference,

“And it’s raining outside. It’d be troublesome to leave now, wouldn’t it? You’d only end up soaked wet again.”

“Oh...”

Amon blinked, then hurriedly nodded.

“You’re right. The weather is terrible.”

“Exactly. So, well... I suppose it can’t be helped. You should rest here.”

I spoke as though I owned the place, and Amon responded with a faint smile.

“Thank you.”

Awkwardly clearing my throat, I burrowed into the blanket Amon had prepared. As I pulled it up to my chest and lay down, Amon stepped back and said,

“Goodnight, my lady.”

I nodded slightly, and Amon turned away to sit at the table. With his back to the bed, he began organizing his documents.

The wolf emblazoned on the back of his cloak seemed to be staring at me, its ferocious expression somehow reassuring.

Before I knew it, the lights dimmed further. The soft rustle of paper and the scratch of a quill soothed my nerves.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

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