Chapter 141| What the Butler Suggested

Edward found the butler waiting in his private quarters that evening, seated calmly in the room’s single armchair as though he’d been invited, and felt the familiar, complicated mixture of comfort and unease that had defined his entire relationship with the man since childhood.

"You shouldn’t be here," Edward said, though he made no move to summon security. He never did, not with Reginald. Some habits, however unwise, proved considerably harder to break than others.

"I wanted to congratulate you," the butler said, rising with the same measured, unhurried grace he’d carried across every year of Edward’s memory. "Your semifinal performance was genuinely impressive. Considerably more controlled than your earlier tournament matches."

"Controlled," Edward repeated, something bitter threading through the word. "Is that what we’re calling it?"

The butler studied him with quiet, patient attention, the particular expression that had, across Edward’s entire life, always preceded some piece of advice Edward found himself following despite every instinct suggesting he shouldn’t. "You held back from genuinely injuring that young man," he said. "Despite the tournament’s considerable stakes. That’s not weakness, Edward, whatever your mother might suggest otherwise. That’s restraint most Hunters your age never properly learn."

Edward said nothing, crossing instead toward the room’s window, staring out at the city’s considerable, gathering evening lights rather than meeting the butler’s steady, watchful gaze.

"You’re worried about tomorrow," the butler observed.

"Of course I am," Edward said, frustration finally breaking through his careful composure. "It’s Allen, Reginald. It’s always been Allen. Every considerable achievement I’ve ever managed gets measured against whatever impossible thing he’s accomplished since. I finally make it to a tournament final, and everyone’s already decided the outcome before we’ve even fought."

"Have they," the butler said mildly.

"You’ve seen the odds. The commentary. Everyone assumes I’m here as a formality, some obstacle for Fallen Crown’s inevitable considerable victory." Edward’s hands tightened against the windowsill. "I’m tired of being the footnote in his story."

The butler was quiet for a long moment, and when he spoke again, his voice carried something considerably more careful than his usual measured advice. "What if you didn’t have to be?"

Edward turned, something cautious and hopeful flickering behind his frustration. "What do you mean?"

"I’ve spent considerable time, across recent months, in circles your family knows nothing about," the butler said, choosing his words with evident, deliberate care. "Circles that occasionally surface items of genuine, considerable interest. I acquired something recently that I believe could level the considerable gap between your own abilities and your brother’s — not permanently, but for the duration of a single match. Enough to finally, properly prove what you’re capable of."

"What is it?" Edward asked, curiosity overtaking caution.

The butler produced a small, unremarkable case from within his coat, opening it to reveal a device unlike anything Edward had previously encountered — compact, dark metal, humming faintly with some contained, considerable energy that made the air around it feel subtly, uncomfortably charged.

"A temporary amplifier," the butler explained. "Experimental technology, considerably beyond anything the Association’s current catalog offers. It would grant you a burst of power sufficient to genuinely challenge your brother’s own considerable strength, for as long as the match requires."

Edward studied the device with cautious, mounting interest, though something uneasy stirred beneath his curiosity. "Where did you get this?"

"Does it matter?" the butler said gently. "You’ve spent your entire life believing genuine victory over Allen was permanently beyond your reach. I’m offering you the chance to prove that belief wrong, in front of the entire watching world."

"This feels like cheating," Edward said slowly, though his hand had already, almost unconsciously, drifted toward the case.

"Is it cheating to finally compete on equal footing," the butler said, "against someone whose own considerable advantages were granted, not earned? Your brother’s power comes from some mysterious system nobody in this family properly understands. Why shouldn’t you have access to your own considerable equalizer?"

The argument settled uncomfortably persuasive in Edward’s chest, old resentment and genuine, desperate hope tangling together until the earlier caution began, visibly, to erode. "If anyone found out—"

"No one will," the butler said, with quiet, unwavering certainty. "This conversation exists between us alone. Whatever you decide, I’ll ensure it remains that way."

Edward stared at the device a long moment, the considerable weight of an entire lifetime’s accumulated resentment and inadequacy pressing against whatever remaining hesitation still lingered, and felt something inside him, finally, quietly give way.

"Show me how it works," he said.

---

The butler departed nearly an hour later, having walked Edward through the device’s considerable operation with the same patient, careful instruction he’d once used teaching a much younger Edward proper sword grip, and Edward found himself alone afterward, studying the compact case with a mixture of anticipation and uneasy, lingering doubt.

He thought of Allen’s genuine warmth toward Haruki, his refusal to gloat, his considerable growth across an entire impossible year, and felt old, familiar resentment flare hot enough to smother whatever doubt remained.

Tomorrow, he told himself, closing the case with quiet, deliberate finality, he would finally, properly prove that Allen wasn’t the only Veton capable of considerable, remarkable things.

Outside his window, the city’s gathered lights stretched beneath a darkening sky, entirely unaware of exactly how much the following day’s tournament final would ultimately, irrevocably cost — a cost neither Edward nor the butler offering him this considerable, tempting shortcut had yet allowed themselves to properly, honestly consider.

The butler, meanwhile, made his own way through the tower’s quiet corridors toward the private transport waiting to carry him elsewhere, expression carrying none of the warm, familial patience he’d shown Edward only minutes earlier. In its place settled something colder, more calculating, the particular satisfaction of a piece finally, precisely moved into position after years of patient, careful waiting.

Whatever happened in tomorrow’s final, he thought, climbing into the waiting vehicle without a backward glance, the coming chaos would prove useful regardless of which brother ultimately claimed victory.

Susan’s suspicion, growing sharper by the week, would need managing eventually — he’d felt her watchful attention settle onto him with increasing frequency these past months, an old instinct in her he’d never quite managed to fully deceive. But that was a concern for another evening. Tonight, he had simply needed Edward hungry enough, and resentful enough, to reach for exactly the kind of shortcut that would make tomorrow’s considerable spectacle serve purposes far beyond a single family’s fractured rivalry.

The transport pulled away from the tower’s private entrance, carrying him toward whatever quiet corner of the city his other, considerably older obligations still required attending to before dawn, and he allowed himself, for the length of that brief journey, the rare luxury of genuine anticipation.