Chapter 67: A Little Curiosity

Who knew hiring a personal attendant could turn into a full-blown criminal investigation?

Lioren certainly hadn’t expected to spend his morning digging through family records, questioning references, and discovering that some perfectly respectable applicants came with enough baggage to fill an entire carriage. At this rate, he might as well start asking candidates to provide a written statement confirming they had no plans to poison anyone.

Lioren dropped the stack of papers onto the table without much thought, already turning his attention toward Xavion. Unfortunately, he hadn’t quite considered the angle at which he’d thrown them. The entire pile shifted dangerously to one side, and he immediately lunged forward to catch it before the papers could scatter all over the floor.

Lioren quickly straightened the pile, then flashed Xavion a grin as though the little incident had never happened.

"Since we already did the heavy lifting yesterday, this shouldn’t take us long at all," Lioren remarked as he glanced across the corner of the desk toward Xavion.

He was being deliberately careful with the pace today. Yesterday, right in the middle of their preliminary candidate review, Xavion had been struck by another sudden, violent flare-up of throbbing pain behind his ruined eye, that lingering, vicious legacy of the old poison that liked to rear its ugly head whenever the weather turned or the tension mounted.

Lioren hadn’t wanted to turn Xavion into a piece of fragile porcelain, forcing him to rest all day feeling useless or overly managed, so he hadn’t canceled the screening entirely. Instead, they were simply taking their time indoors during the middle of the day to finish sorting through the candidates they had already selected together yesterday afternoon.

Therin sat at the side desk nearby, pulling up the deep-dive background reports he had spent the morning gathering on their shortlist. He didn’t look up from his papers as the Grand Duke spoke, his quill scratching steadily across parchment.

"I’ve completed the inquiries into the names you both marked yesterday," Therin reported. "We can eliminate several right away based on domestic security flags and personal history."

"What about the candidates I marked yesterday?" Xavion asked quietly, his voice low and direct. "They seemed remarkably qualified on paper."

Lioren shrugged it off with an easy smile, as if there wasn’t anything worth mentioning.

"Right," Lioren said simply, offering a dismissive wave of his hand. "Therin found a few details in their background checks that make them... a bit less suitable for what we need right now. Some concerns worth considering regarding their references. Better to set them aside and stick to the cleaner profiles."

He gave no elaborate, agonizing explanations. He didn’t mention Ostharia, and certainly didn’t mention the burned farms. He just offered the simple, vague excuse and moved the papers out of reach.

The truth was, Lioren hadn’t figured any of this out on his own. Therin had brought him the information along with enough research to make the whole thing considerably more concerning.

Therin had knocked on Lioren’s study, carrying a slim leather folder that smelled faintly of rain and damp parchment. He hadn’t sat down. He had simply laid out the dossier on Julianus Rane first, tapping a lean, ink-stained finger against the boy’s birth registry.

"The boy claims he’s seeking employment out of administrative ambition, Your Grace," Therin had said. "But three winters ago, during the imperial advance, Julianus’s older brother was trapped inside a granary when the Ostharian vanguard set the surrounding fields ablaze. He never made it out. Julianus spent the next two weeks digging through the ashes, searching for his brother’s signet ring. A boy who goes through something like that doesn’t apply for a position in the Grand Duke’s household simply because he’s impressed by the stationery. He knows exactly who lives under your roof."

Therin had paused, letting the heavy, suffocating silence hang in the dim lamplight before sliding the second parchment forward.

"And then there’s Perrin," Therin continued. "His background looks perfectly clean at first glance. Quiet, soft-spoken, with excellent references from the provincial record office. But there’s something his application conveniently leaves out. His cousin served in the royal infantry during the war against Ostharia. He lost his left leg during one of the battles and hasn’t exactly taken the defeat well. He’s been spending his days drinking in taverns, cursing the Ostharian army and anyone associated with it. Perrin visits him regularly, pays for his drinks, and listens to him complain. Now, I don’t know what the boy intends by applying for a position here, but I’d rather not give someone with such close ties to a bitter war casualty unrestricted access to the prince’s private quarters."

Therin had leaned over the desk, his knuckles resting white against the dark wood. "Perrin visits that tavern every Sunday without fail. He pays his cousin’s tab, buys his bandages, and listens to the old soldier curse Xavion’s name. If you place a man like Perrin inside the prince’s private quarters, a man who sits by a hearth every weekend nursing a family’s festering, bitter hatred, you aren’t hiring a servant, Your Grace. You are handing a grieving relative a key to the bedchamber, a silver butter knife, and a thousand quiet opportunities to slip something fatal into a morning cup of broth."

That conversation had been stuck in Lioren’s mind all morning, a grim reminder of what could have happened if they hadn’t thought to check the candidates more carefully. But looking at Xavion now, Lioren had no intention of bringing any of it up. Xavion had enough to deal with already. He didn’t need to know that two of the people he’d personally chosen might have been waiting for an opportunity to put a knife to his throat.

Lioren simply maintained his relaxed posture and easy smile before slipping the papers into the growing pile on the table, as if they were nothing worth worrying about.

Xavion studied his face for a moment, searching for something hidden behind that casual response. But Lioren’s smile remained unchanged, leaving little room for further questions. In the end, Xavion merely nodded, accepting the explanation without pressing him for more.

With Therin staying close behind Lioren and keeping the whole process organized, the three of them continued going through the remaining applications. They discussed qualifications, references, and each candidate’s temperament, gradually narrowing the list down to seven or eight promising choices.

While Therin copied the final names into his note, Lioren leaned back in his chair, rested an elbow on the table, and turned his attention to the Ostrharian general sitting across from him.

"You know," Lioren asked, leaning back in his seat, "did you have a personal attendant back in Ostharia? Before you came here, I mean."

Xavion paused, his thumb stopping against the rim of his empty teacup. "I did."

Lioren raised his eyebrows. "You did? Then how come he didn’t come with you to Werestia? I thought the treaty arrangements would’ve allowed you to bring someone along..."

He stopped himself when Xavion suddenly fell silent. The former general’s expression changed so quickly that Lioren barely had time to process it. His gaze lowered to the table, and his jaw tightened.

Lioren immediately regretted asking. He hadn’t meant to pry, but judging by Xavion’s reaction, he’d touched on something rather personal.

Neither spoke for a while. Lioren considered changing the subject, but before he could find the right words, Xavion finally broke the silence.

His voice came out low and rough, almost unrecognizable from his usual steady tone.

"I am afraid... he can no longer come anywhere with me."

Lioren frowned. "And that is because..."

The parlor door opened, interrupting Lioren before he could finish his sentence.

Evelia stepped inside, carrying a silver tray of afternoon refreshments. The moment Xavion noticed her, his posture straightened almost automatically. Whatever had weighed on his expression moments ago disappeared, replaced by the calm, polite smile he usually wore in front of others. He turned toward her, greeting her arrival as though nothing had happened.

Therin continued sorting through the remaining applications, occasionally adding notes to the final list. He glanced up when Evelia came in with the refreshments, looking rather amused by the unusual sight of her personally bringing something to the parlor instead of leaving it to the servants. Evelia simply gave him a smile, as if to remind him that she could be thoughtful and considerate too.

But even as the conversation carried on around them, Lioren found himself growing quiet. He leaned back in his seat, his eyes occasionally drifting toward Xavion. He couldn’t quite shake the image of Xavion’s expression from earlier, the way his usual composure had slipped and left something far more troubled in its place.