For a moment, Edward looked at Bernadette with an awkward expression. Even if he racked his brains until they exploded, he never would've imagined things would turn out like this.
"See! Look at them! That's totally what a date looks like!"
Bernadette jabbed her finger angrily toward the pair across the way. "I want to run away from home. No—better yet, just kidnap me right now!"
At that moment, Dubois and Matilda walked side by side past the two of them, heading toward the rear gate of the Roselle family villa. When they reached it, Dubois halted. "Alright, I'll leave you here. Go on back."
The smile on Matilda's face faded into helplessness.
"You really don't want to see Roselle, even just once?"
"No."
"And what about Bernadette? The last time you saw her, she had just been born."
"Forget it. To her, I'm just a stranger. There's nothing worth seeing." Dubois waved a hand and turned back down the street. "Oh right, Matilda, don't forget—it's the villa at No. 7 Rose Street. Be sure to send an invitation for the next banquet."
"Yes, yes, I know."
Matilda watched his figure vanish around the corner, sighed softly, and stepped back into the garden.
Holy hell…so Dubois really was trying to find me a chance to meet Roselle. Shady as his methods are, they sure are fast and effective.
"I'm not running away from home anymore!!"
Bernadette suddenly hissed in fury.
Edward blinked. "What's wrong now?"
Her anger boiled over into a laugh. "Didn't you hear? Mama's going to invite that man here for the banquet! That's the banquet Papa is hosting! This…this is way too much! I…I want to expose them in front of everyone! Otherwise, poor Papa will be pitiful beyond words!"
Edward nearly choked.
Your intentions are "filial," sure—but if you pull something like that, Emperor Roselle would definitely prefer not to know anything at all. His title wouldn't be 'Son of Steam' anymore, it'd be 'Son of Green Hat.'
"You head home first. I'll track that man, figure out who he is, what his background is, what he wants. If worst comes to worst…I'll deal with him myself, make sure he never appears again. How about that?"
Bernadette's eyes lit up. "Okay!"
"All right, hurry back then."
"Thank you, Mr. Sparrow."
She gave Edward a small bow, then hesitated.
"Although…I know you must have some purpose in approaching me, being so kind to me…but…as long as you never harm my family, then…then I'll forgive you in advance."
"…"
Edward gave a helpless smile, and as he often did with Lilith, he reached out and ruffled her hair affectionately.
"You're just a child, yet your thoughts are already so complicated. Go on home."
"Goodbye, Mr. Sparrow."
———
After parting with Bernadette, Edward returned to the villa at No. 7 Rose Street. Dubois wasn't back yet. He had Ossaine go out and buy a newspaper, and was idly flipping through it when Endili brought out the prepared lunch.
It was roast meat again, but prepared completely differently from breakfast. Some kind of fruit had been added during the roasting, which gave it a subtle sweetness, distinct from the earlier flavour.
Seeing Edward eat with satisfaction, Endili finally relaxed a little.
"Honoured master, we also know a few special ways to roast fish. Would you like to try it?"
"Sure."
"Then I'll go buy some fish tomorrow and make it for you."
At this time, Ossaine came forward and said, "Master, the weeds in the garden have already been cleared. But… as for trimming the flowerbeds and the trees—I don't know how."
"Mhm, Dubois will hire someone specifically for that later."
Tap, tap, tap.
Just as his name came up, Dubois returned—leading four people quickly behind him.
"Mr. Sparrow, these are the two servants, one coachman, and one cook I just hired."
The four stood with heads bowed at the door of the villa, nervous and uneasy. Clearly they had heard some of the rumours about this haunted house. But people of their station weren't like professional butlers—options were limited. If they didn't take the job, their families wouldn't eat.
"Good. Assign them to their duties. Come with me to the study."
"Of course. But we'll also need to purchase a carriage."
"We'll do that later. I've got questions for you."
Dubois gave the new hires some simple instructions, especially telling the cook to assist Endili and teach her some Intis dishes. Then he followed Edward briskly into the study.
Before Edward could say anything, Dubois bowed like a gentleman, speaking in a proud, reporting tone, "Mr. Sparrow, I've already made preliminary arrangements for your request to meet Roselle."
"Oh? Let's hear it."
"I…reached out to an old friend. I asked her to help invite you to Roselle's next banquet as a guest, at which point you'll be able to attend and seize the chance to meet him."
Edward leaned back in his chair, feigning surprise.
"Weren't you blacklisted by all the nobles of Trier? Where'd you dig up this friend of yours?"
"Blacklisted?"
Dubois froze for a moment, then quickly guessed the meaning of the word.
"Well…there are always some people willing to lend a hand in difficult times."
Edward coughed lightly.
"Ahem, don't tell me it was one of those noble ladies you once…'knew'?"
Dubois hesitated for a few seconds, then admitted,
"It is a lady, but she truly is just a very good old friend of mine."
Hearing this, Edward actually believed him somewhat—after all, in this matter, there was no reason for him to lie.
But still…"old friend" didn't mean there hadn't been, or wouldn't be, messy emotional entanglements.
What should I do?
Should I warn him directly to stay away from Matilda in the future?
No—that would make me sound like some paranoid lunatic. I was the one who asked him for help in the first place, and he's been working diligently, efficiently, and without complaint. He hasn't done anything wrong.
A moment later, Edward sighed.
"Mm. You've worked hard on this."
Then he added, "By the way, how much do you know about Beyonders?"
Dubois's eyes lit up, and he immediately answered, "I know that one must ingest potions brewed from extraordinary materials to become a Beyonder. There are many different 'pathways'… ones I've heard of include the Savant, Lawyer, Arbiter, and a few others. Beyond that, I don't know much.
"Oh, and—I also know becoming a Beyonder carries the risk of losing your mind, even completely losing control and turning into a monster. That's the main reason I never became one back then."
Edward nodded.
"Have you thought about which pathway you'd want to take?"
"Perhaps Savant? I know a bit more about that one than the others. But honestly, I'd accept any pathway now. I want to seize any chance to become a Beyonder."
Dubois was well aware that although pathways mattered greatly, in his current situation, acting picky would be downright ungrateful.
"I see. Then think it over carefully. Once I've truly made contact with Roselle, I'll help you become a Beyonder."
"Thank you, Mr. Sparrow!"
Dubois left, visibly encouraged. He had a full afternoon ahead of him—buying a carriage, finalising the rest of the staff, and even scouting out a new residence.
Earlier that morning, when he had gone to see Matilda, he'd casually asked if she knew of any villas for rent or sale near Roselle's home. Unfortunately, Matilda rarely left her house, so she knew nothing.
With nothing else to do, Edward spent the afternoon truly playing the idle nobleman. Either wandering aimlessly through the garden, flipping through books in the study, or simply resting in the bedroom.
"Ugh…If I'd known, I wouldn't have set up this rich-man persona. Should've just opened a detective agency like Klein. At least then I'd have work to keep me busy. And being a famous detective also offers chances to brush shoulders with the Church."
In the original story, hadn't Klein met the Machinery Hivemind people while investigating the serial murders? That was how he ended up encountering bootlicking-mirror Arrodes.
———
By around 5:30 in the afternoon, Dubois returned with several more recruits. At this point, almost all of the staff he'd mentioned were assembled.
Edward stepped out to show his face, letting everyone know who they were working for, then retreated again. He didn't bother learning their names.
Reality was often like this: those who arrived first held an advantage. Just as with Endili and Ossaine—though they were mere slaves of the lowest status, Edward remembered them because they were the first to arrive, and he gave them certain privileges.
Not that such treatment was unusual among nobles. Slaves were private property, after all. In a sense, they were part of the "family" more than hired outsiders, and so naturally more trusted.
"Mr. Sparrow, everyone has been settled," Dubois reported. "Starting tomorrow, I'll also try to help you meet nobles beyond Roselle. As for that business about me being 'blacklisted' by all the nobles of Trier—most of it is rumour and exaggeration. I'm not nearly important enough for that."
Edward chuckled. "Didn't you sleep with half the noble ladies and young misses of Trier?"
"...Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't have the ability." Dubois was sweating.
You dared compete with Roselle himself over women, and you say you lack ability?
"Well then, I look forward to it."
———
Night fell.
In this era, nearly everything differed from two hundred years later—except for the moonlight. Still crimson as blood, it spilled across the earth, staining it with a faint scarlet glow.
Dubois sat at the desk in the butler's quarters, candles flickering as he pored over a thick book, searching for any scraps of knowledge about Beyonders.
Since Mr. Sparrow had told him to carefully consider his choice of pathway, of course he had to research thoroughly. He still remembered what the bishop had once warned him: Once you choose a pathway, you can never change it. If the pathway doesn't suit you, you'll be far more likely to go mad, lose control, and your chances of advancing to higher sequences will be slim to none.
Suddenly, a wave of drowsiness crashed over him.
Dubois rubbed his eyes, yawned, and glanced at his pocket watch.
"Only 10 o'clock…why am I so tired?"
He closed the book, stood up, and shuffled toward the bed.
"Probably from reading too long. Sleep it off."
His eyelids grew heavier and heavier, until—just half a meter from the bed—he collapsed onto the floor with a thud, soundly asleep.
The room fell silent for several minutes.
Then, two figures silently pushed open the window and slipped inside without a sound.
Four crimson eyes glowed faintly in the darkness.
———
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