13 Mink Street

Chapter 95: The Killer

Prince Henry’s head had been placed on the table, where it rested on a silver tray. Beside it sat an ordinary platter, holding a dark, formless mass that reeked of rot.

“Horse manure,” Mr. Bede stated.

“Horse manure?” Karon asked.

“It was taken out of Prince Henry’s mouth.”

Karon looked back at the prince’s face. It was pale, but otherwise unblemished.

“We cleaned him,” Bede explained.

“Doesn’t that destroy evidence?” Karon asked.

Bede hesitated. “That’s... aristocratic etiquette.”

“Etiquette?”

“In short, even if you’re starving to death, when you see a full table, you must still look displeased that the cutlery isn’t silver.”

“Heh.”

“How did it get here?” Karon asked.

“The head was tied to a saddle. The horse happened to be one our family gave to the royal household years ago. Following its instincts, it brought Prince Henry’s head home.”

“So this is a setup?” Karon asked.

“My father is already on the phone with the palace, but if this is a frame-up, it would be far too crude, and the price too high.”

“I didn’t mean the royal family framing us,” Karon said.

“I understand, Young Master, but I don’t think anyone would do this. The Gloria family has remained on the Veyn throne precisely because they avoid stirring up trouble. They focus on staying... well-behaved.” Bede coughed lightly. “So even if Prince Henry is dead, it will still be difficult to provoke a confrontation between the crown and the Allen family. They don’t act on impulse. Their impulses are spent elsewhere.”

Karon recalled Pu’er saying something similar before. “So you don’t think this was a setup?”

“No. I think the killer was simply waiting for an opportunity. Prince Henry got drunk and left the palace, and then he was killed. The horse happened to be from our stables, and so his head happened to arrive at Allen Manor.”

“That’s a lot of coincidences.”

“Yes, and yet I believe that’s exactly what happened.”

At that moment, Master Anderson hurried in.

“Young Master Karon, I’ve spoken with the palace officials. Her Majesty was deeply grieved to hear of Prince Henry’s death, but has instructed her people to convey her belief that this was an attempt to sow discord between the crown and the Allen family.”

“Her Majesty is wise,” Karon said.

“Yes, Young Master. What do you think?” Master Anderson asked.

“I don’t know,” Karon replied honestly. “But perhaps we should hear Mr. Bede’s opinion.”

Master Anderson gave his youngest son a perfunctory glance. “Then speak.”

Bede glanced at the head on the table, visibly shrinking back from it. “I don’t know anything.”

Master Anderson sighed.

A servant entered. “Sir, the palace is calling again. They request your presence.”

“I’ll take it,” Master Anderson said. He then turned to Karon. “Young Master, I—”

“Please handle this first.”

“I’ll report their stance and measures to you immediately.” Master Anderson left.

Karon pinched the bridge of his nose and stepped outside. Bede followed. The rain-cleansed air felt refreshingly cool. With no servants nearby, Karon turned to man. “It wasn’t you?”

Bede smiled faintly. “I thought it was you, Young Master.”

“Really not?”

“Truly not.”

They nodded to each other. It really hadn’t been either of them.

“I thought perhaps, because he kept harassing Eunice, you, as her father, simply...” Karon made a downward chopping motion.

“Young Master,” Bede said helplessly. “I told you yesterday, I can’t fight. Besides, Eunice is now your fiancée. Prince Henry would give you far more reason to—”

He mirrored the same chopping gesture.

“I would never do such a thing,” Karon said with a shrug. “Absurd.”

“You are Sir Tiz’s grandson,” Bede reminded him. “My father is probably feeling quite unsettled right now, also wondering whether this was your doing. After his call, he may try to probe you indirectly.”

“I’m just a Divine Servant.”

“And for a long time, Sir Tiz was only an Inquisitor.”

They both fell silent.

“What about his guards?” Karon asked. “Didn’t he have over a hundred royal guards with him?”

“They’re fine.”

“Fine?”

“Prince Henry left the palace on horseback.”

“Yes.”

“The guards were ordered to ride as well.”

“And?”

“As they left the city and entered the outskirts, more than half of them fell behind. Once they were through the outskirts and continuing on towards the manor, the remainder dropped away as well. In the end, His Highness rode forward alone. In anger, he spurred his horse into the woods, and when he emerged again, only his head remained.”

“What does that mean?” Karon asked, confused.

“It means that the palace guards are mostly there to decorate someone’s service record,” Bede replied. “Each year, those guard positions are sold. Wealthy merchants pay for them so that their children can have a bit of ‘experience’ attached to their records, so most of them can’t ride,” Bede concluded.

“If Prince Henry hadn’t chosen to ride, but had taken a car instead, he probably wouldn’t have been killed?” Karon asked.

“Probably not,” Bede conceded. “At least he would have still had his guards around him, and he wouldn’t have been alone.”

“Then why did he insist on riding?”

“Young men, especially drunk young men, tend to do reckless things. He wanted to imitate his ancestors’ mounted valor.”

He paused, then added dryly, “Though throughout most of his family’s history, the members of the Gloria family were the ones being ridden.”

***

“So the Gloria family’s little idiot is dead?” Pu’er asked, chewing on fried fish.

“Mhmm.” Karon sat on the sofa holding a bottle of perfume. He dripped some onto the back of his hand, and then lightly rubbed it beneath his nose.

“My god,” Pu’er said. “You’re using perfume now? Has the noble life corrupted you so quickly?”

“I got fumigated by horse manure,” Karon explained. “And I don’t feel like bathing and changing clothes just yet.”

The scent was oddly similar to mentholated oil. It would do, if barely.

“Fine,” Pu’er said. “Horse manure doesn’t actually smell that bad. Especially in my era, before cars existed, everyone traveled by carriage. We grew used to the fragrance of manure.

“That’s also why I still hate the smell of exhaust fumes,” she added. “It’s heresy.”

“If Prince Henry had kept pace with the times and driven here today,” Karon mentioned. “He probably wouldn’t have died.”

“I feel like that line is aimed at me,” Pu’er muttered.

There was a knock at the bedroom door. Karon walked over and opened it, revealing Borg outside. “Young Master, the royal party has arrived. Prince York is leading them.”

“Understood,” Karon said. He closed the door. For the time being, he did not need to appear for external receptions.

Pu’er continued chewing her fried fish and said, “‘Prince York’ usually refers to the crown prince.”

“The queen is ninety-five, right?” Karon asked.

“Yes,” Pu’er replied. “So the crown prince is in his seventies.”

She then added, “Swillen newspapers love making jokes about Prince York’s age.”

At that moment, they heard cars moving outside, but not from the front of the manor. Instead, the sound came from behind.

Karon went to the windowsill and looked down. A convoy had stopped there.

Pu’er jumped up onto the sill to also look, as she explained, “It’s royal etiquette. When the royal family arrives in a vassal’s territory, they disembark from the rear. According to the old tradition, the vassal forms up in front to protect the royal party, while the royal party dismounts behind the vassal’s formation.”

She tilted her head. “Of course, now it’s getting out of cars, so it evolved into this; When the royal convoy enters a vassal’s home, they can’t get out from the front. They have to circle around and get out from the rear. Ridiculous, isn’t it?”

“It’s fine,” Karon said.

In the middle of the convoy, the door of a Santelan sedan opened. A red carpet had already been laid out. A man in his seventies was helped out by two attendants. His legs were shaking so badly that he could not even manage a cane.

Below, Master Anderson led the Allen family out. They saluted Prince York, and Master Anderson stepped forward to exchange a cheek-to-cheek greeting with the man.

“It looks like he’s here for a wedding,” Karon observed.

“Someone’s already dead,” Pu’er replied, unfazed. “The dead don’t outrank the living when it comes to etiquette.”

“Is he really here to investigate?” Karon asked.

“He’s here to make a statement,” Pu’er stated bluntly. “On behalf of the royal household, he’s declaring their position to the Allen family: the crown believes Prince Henry’s death has nothing to do with the Allens.

“And that dredges up another royal tradition,” she continued. “If a royal dies an unnatural death outside of the palace, the funeral must be held where they died. The body can’t be transported back to the palace.

“Originally, this was meant for the era of expansion,” Pu’er said. “If a royal died in the field, the army would have to fight back in and hold the funeral on enemy soil. This is just the remaining shell of a formality.”

“So they’ll hold Prince Henry’s funeral here at Allen Manor?” Karon asked.

“Yes. That’s probably another reason Prince York came in person.” Pu’er reached out with a paw and pressed it against Karon’s arm. “That’s your field.”

Karon removed her paw, then patted his arm where she had touched. “Next time you eat fish and don’t wash your paws, don’t touch me.”

***

After his meeting with Prince York, Master Anderson immediately drafted the agreed upon terms and delivered them to Karon.

There were three simple items.

First, the royal household and the Allen family would issue a joint public condemnation of the assassination attempt on Prince Henry.

Second, Prince Henry’s funeral would be held at the Allen manor. The date was not yet set, because they still needed to recover the rest of his remains.

Third, the Allen family would offer to pay for all expenses for the funeral.

“The third item is tradition?” Karon asked.

“Yes, Young Master. Funding a royal funeral or celebration used to be a vassal’s honor. Even now, spending a million rels to make it pass cleanly is still worth it.”

Karon nodded. The Allen family did not lack secular wealth.

“Any leads on the rest of the body?”

“Not yet. Many people have been sent out, including the palace’s people, local police, and the Allen household staff, but the search is still underway.”

“Alright,” Karon said. “I understand.”

“Oh, and there’s one more matter that isn’t written there,” Master Anderson added. “This afternoon, Prince York will pay his respects at the Allen cemetery.”

“He’s visiting the cemetery?” Karon asked.

Master Anderson chose his words carefully. “Because of a certain ancestor, both sides believe there might be blood ties between the Allen family and the Gloria royal line.”

“Earl Rekar?” Karon asked.

“Your knowledge of our family history is truly thorough,” Master Anderson observed.

Karon pointed at the painting on the study wall and smiled. “You’ve made a point of being rather conspicuous.”

Your ancestor dared to have it painted, and you descendants dare to keep it hanging.

And yes, it was something to boast about. Look at us. Our ancestor dared to sleep with Her Majesty the Queen.

“It’s because Gloria the Fourth, who inherited the throne from Gloria the Third, was born after Her Majesty turned thirty,” Master Anderson explained. “And by that time, Her Majesty and our predecessor had some sort of relationship.

“But we can’t confirm it,” he added. “Because Her Majesty’s husband, Prince Zeke, was still alive then.”

“Understood,” Karon said.

“I’ll go arrange things,” Master Anderson said. “If you feel bored, you can walk around inside. Consider it an appreciation of our local customs. The Swillen royal household has never had much presence.”

The Swillen royal family had fallen so far that they were constantly endorsing luxury goods to make money, leaving little sense of ceremony or dignity.

“Understood,” Karon said again.

“Just please don’t leave the manor,” Master Anderson continued. “The killer may still be nearby. If you wish to step out for air, please let me know first, and I’ll have Mike...”

“Prince Henry wasn’t killed by me,” Karon said.

“Ah... er... um... Young Master, you misunderstand,” Master Anderson said quickly, forcing a laugh. “How could I possibly think that?”

Then he lowered his voice and asked, “Truly?”

Karon nodded. “Truly.”

Master Anderson let out a breath of relief. “I understand.”

“Go on,” Karon said. “Handle what you need to handle, Master Anderson.”

“Yes, Young Master.”

After the old man had left the study, Karon stood and loosened his shoulders.

Since entering the Allen manor, he had not left its grounds even once. Even his rides with Eunice had remained on the manor’s grounds. Master Anderson’s question had been exactly what Bede had predicted; a probe to see whether Karon was the killer.

Karon went to the window and opened it to let in some air.

At that moment, he heard climbing below.

He leaned forward slightly to look down. A little girl, looking to be about ten years old, was climbing the wall. She wore a formal red dress, had her hair styled elaborately, and most notably, wore several pieces of jewelry glittered on both hands.

Her behavior was that of a wall-climbing thief, and that clashed violently with her clothing and presentation.

Karon stepped back two paces as the girl reached the windowsill.

The next instant, blue threads appeared across the open window and swept towards her.

When Karon first entered this study, he had asked Alfred to check it. The man had used his Succubus Eye to confirm that conversations held in the study could not be overheard from outside. Such sealed isolation was not something provided by the simple bell on the desk, but by a ritual array within the study.

Anyone who did not enter through the study door, but rather tried any other way to gain access to the room, would be repelled by the array.

Yet just as the girl was about to be thrown out by the array’s barrier, a blue glow of the same color flared from her body. It simply merged with the array, and with a dull thud, the girl fell face-first onto the study floor, right in front of Karon.

He froze. After his purification, he could “see” more. He had seen that the glow from the girl and the glow from the array were not only identical in color, but identical in nature.

Two powers of the same nature did not repel. This demonstrated affinity.

The Allen family’s arrays were built in accordance with the family faith system. Generation after generation, the ones maintaining and repairing the ritual arrays had been family members. Such tasks were never entrusted to outsiders. As a result, their attributes were essentially water and fire.

“Ow... hey, pull me up!” the girl demanded, stretching out her hand.

Karon hesitated, but then went over and took her hand. She used his strength to stand.

Once upright, she brushed off her dress and complained, “I wanted Grandpa to tell Anderson to let us into the Allen study so I could look at the portraits, but Grandpa said it’s a disgrace to us Glorias, so he refused.”

She sighed, then grinned. “So I had to climb the wall myself. Heh. I knew the array here wouldn’t hurt me.”

Karon stood to the side and listened. The girl had to be royal. The grandfather she mentioned was likely Prince York, who had arrived at noon.

She looked at Karon and blinked. “Are you the male servant who cleans the study?”

“I—”

She shook her head. “No, that fabric you’re wearing isn’t something a servant would wear.”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh, you’re an Allen, aren’t you? What’s your name, handsome big brother?”

“My name is Karon,” he replied. “Karon Allen.”

“My name is Judia,” she said. She pinched her skirt on both sides and curtsied.

“Greetings, Your Highness?” Karon said.

“Just call me by my name,” Judia said.

She walked to the center of the study and began admiring the portraits. In the end, she stopped before the portrait of Earl Rekar.

“Heheh. This is the one I wanted to see.” She gave the same curtsey as before to Rekar’s portrait. “The family faith system that awakened in me isn’t Gloria’s, but the Allen system. So you really are my ancestor.”

Karon watched her. She really did come here to acknowledge kinship.

“Oh, right,” Judia said. “I’m hungry. Handsome big brother, do you have anything to eat?”

“I do,” Karon said, turning to pick up the pastries he had left on the desk, but as he moved to deliver them to Judia where she stood before the portrait, he stopped.

That was because Judia was holding a human hand and gnawing on it the same way that one might gnaw on chicken feet.

Then Judia, her mouth smeared with blood, turned to Karon. She lifted the half-eaten hand and waved it with a bright smile. “I forgot I brought food with me. This is my brother Henry’s.

“My family wanted him to mate with me to produce the next generation, an heir who would inherit the Allen family faith system,” she said. “But he refused. He kept shouting that he could marry the Allen family’s Eunice to complete the family’s task that way.”

She sucked loudly at a finger. With a wet pop, the flesh and skin slid into her mouth, leaving only white bone. She continued chewing while shaking her head. “Hmph! Bad brother! He even looked down on his own little sister.”