Chương 11: Negotiation? Extortion? What's the difference?

Extortion? What's the difference?

Guifford Knottley sat behind his desk in his office and looked out the large window behind it. It afforded a good view of the city. While Freybrook was originally built in a heavily forested area, with the Whitdown Mountains not far off, the city itself had been built around a deep inlet with mostly flat land around it. The estate of the first city lords generations ago had been built on what was essentially the only elevated point in the city, a choice he had always appreciated.

It was calming, being able to look out over part of his domain and see it breathe with life. And calming was what he needed right now. He couldn't help scowling as he thought about the recent events — his bushy brows furrowing deeply. Guifford had always been a large man. Though he was now bald, he more than made up for it with his large beard. He had a large nose and had never been referred to as handsome, but people had always said he held an imposing presence.

Unfortunately, that hadn't had any particular effect on the woman he would be seeing now for a long while. A knock sounded from the door.

"Enter," he said, turning around to the entrance. His head butler, Johan, walked in. The middle-aged man bowed before speaking.

"My Lord. Baroness Hartford has arrived."

"Lead her here," Guifford said and waved Johan away. The man immediately left, leaving Guifford alone in his office again. He looked down at the reports on his desk. Scarlett Hartford sure had caused a disturbance this time. He remembered the days when she was still a child. Such a resolute and confident young girl. Her parents had been good friends of his so it hadn't been unusual for her and her sister to visit his estate. His son had even hoped to wed her once upon a time. He was glad that did not go anywhere.

He pitied her current fiancé. He wasn't sure when she changed, but the young girl he knew was no more. She had certainly grown into a beautiful woman; the talk of many cliques among high society, despite only being a baroness. But she had also grown cold. Ruthless. And he had heard rumors of her... activities. Rumors he'd hoped to be false. But the last days' events shattered those hopes.

He sat there and read through the papers spread across his desk—this was far from the first time he'd done this today—until eventually another knock came from the door.

"My Lord. Baroness Hartford is here to see you," Johan's voice rang out from the other side.

"Let her in," Guifford rumbled. The door swung open and Scarlett Hartford entered. She wore a light white dress with a white lace choker, her deep red hair hanging behind her shoulder. She bent her head slightly towards him.

"Greetings to Count Knottley." He raised an eyebrow. That wasn't how she usually greeted him. Was she trying to placate him? He gestured to a chair opposite of him on the other side of the desk.

"Take a seat." She lifted her head and walked towards the chair, gently lowering herself into it. Guifford looked towards Johan and gave him a nod. The butler exited the room and closed the door behind him. Guifford then turned his attention back to Scarlett.

"I assume you know why I called for you."

"Of course." She held her back straight as she leaned both hands on her legs.

"I have been anticipating the Count's summons since yesterday." He looked at her. He wasn't sure whether her demeanor was arrogance or if she was just that sure of herself. He currently had over a dozen people in his stockades on suspicions of illegal racketeering, human trafficking, smuggling, and a number of other things. And it was all because of her. Some of those people were known criminals, while others were merely suspect.

But with the circumstantial evidence found at the sites in addition to the Shields Guild's preliminary report, as well as the fact that there were supposedly over thirty children who could serve as witness accounts, he wouldn't have any problem prosecuting those already captured. But that was all. A trafficking ring had been operational in Freybrook under his nose for Ittar knows how long, and all he had to show as a response was those who had been involved directly on the site.

No accomplices, collaborators, or even backers. The Grey Dog Gang was a known criminal organization, but their capture wasn't even due to his involvement. He had very little to show for what would no doubt become a large issue. And the prisoners themselves hadn't given much of use yet. People were already starting to hound at his heels because of this matter. And in front of him sat the woman responsible for this mess — calm as ever. It took a lot out of him just to repress letting out a tired sigh.

"Do you have an explanation for yourself?" he eventually asked her.

"An explanation for what, precisely?" He folded his hands and leaned forward in his chair.

"I have men in my cells accusing you of actively supporting criminal activities in Freybrook. The trafficking of children kidnapped from Voneia is just one example." This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Only two of the prisoners were actually claiming the baroness was one of their backers, but considering the circumstances, that was enough to cause trouble for her.

"And reports from both the Guild and those prisoners indicate that you tried removing any evidence of your involvement."

"I find it surprising that you trust the words of men whose criminal pursuits I personally hindered," Scarlett said in a cold voice.

"One would expect that to cast doubt on the credence of their accusations. And what claim did the Guild make for you to reach such a conclusion?" Guifford went silent for a moment. This was most certainly the Scarlett he was used to. She would find herself jumping headfirst into the water down at the bay before she ever tried appeasing someone else.

"... The details of their report aren't something you need to know. However, I will say that they didn't outright accuse you of anything. In fact, they were surprisingly positive of you. But it did mention that you were the one to gather evidence from the sites. Evidence which we have seen nothing of." He stared at her.

"Scarlett. I don't know why you did what you did... But do you truly think you can get away with it at this point? I will have my men search through the Hartford residence and even all of your lands if that is what it takes." She met his eyes, the side of her lips curving upwards into what looked almost like a slight smile.

"It seems you are under a misconception, Count."

"... What?"

"My intention has never been to hide any evidence from you. In fact, I was planning on conveying what I had found to you right at this moment." She moved her hands towards a black satchel—or rather, a pouch— that was fastened to her waist with a white belt. He had found it odd that she, of all people, wore such a garment that clashed with her apparel, but it hadn't been his main focus. He watched as she reached into the pouch and, as its opening magically widened to almost double its size, pulled out a large book.

She held it up in front of him for a moment before putting it back into the pouch of holding.

"There was information I required in these records which is why I did not immediately demonstrate them after the raids, but you can rest assured that there have been no alterations to the texts. I assume your men will be capable of confirming their veracity." Guifford gave the baroness a doubting look.

"You expect me to simply trust you?"

"I hope you will. After all, in these books, you will find signs of my collaboration with the Grey Dog Gang's activities for the last eight months." His eyes widened.

"Are you being serious?" Scarlett nodded.

"Yes. I would have liked for it to be sooner, but eight months was what it took for me to gain enough trust and learn where they operated from." Guifford examined her closely, looking for any signs of a lie. But her expression was as still as a rock.

"You're implying you associated with them only to eventually stop them?"

"Of course."

"Why?"

"You expect a member of the nobility to ignore such a blatant danger and mistreatment of innocent people?" He crossed his arms and frowned at her.

"I expect you to report the matter. Not to fund their activities." The baroness went quiet for a moment, her eyes looking at him as if they were examining him.

"Perhaps I would have," she finally said.

"If they had merely been another petty criminal organization."

"... What do you mean?" She went quiet again. Almost as if she was hesitating to say what she was about to.

"Have you heard of... the Hallowed Cabal?" He froze. In his close to fifty years of serving the empire as part of its reigning class, it had been involved in many struggles, both within and outside its borders. Amongst those, there had been two well-known groups that had caused much more trouble for the empire than any others. The Undead Council and the Tribe of Sin. He had fought in several conflicts with them personally.

Unfortunately neither had been successfully eradicated, but they had been a lot quieter for the past decades. However, in addition to those two, there was another group. One he knew not many were aware of. All he himself knew was their name and that they worked from the shadows. He never expected Scarlett to have heard of them. Or to bring them up now.

"Where did you hear that name?"

"Where I heard it is irrelevant," she said.

"What's important is that their involvement was not something I could ignore. Therefore I had to take action myself." Guifford stared at her for a moment, then brought his hand to his chin as he scratched the side of his beard.

"People will find that hard to believe. I do."

"I expect as much." Scarlett merely acknowledged his words with a slight nod of her head.

"That is why I want you to compose a writ declaring that I operated under your orders in pursuit of apprehending criminal factions in Freybrook." His fingers stopped.

"... You're asking a lot for a person who's at risk of execution for breaching imperial law." Human trafficking was a severe crime, no matter who performed it.

"Is that so?" she replied. She looked genuinely perplexed by his statement.

"I believed it was quite a reasonable demand, considering it shares all acknowledgment with the Count. And do not forget that I am in possession of any evidence." He scowled at her. So that was her game. She was trying to strike a deal, and she knew what he needed. It wasn't much different from blackmail. Was her story even the truth? Or did she just think associating with the Grey Dog Gang was too risky and decided to jump ship?

"I could simply seize the evidence from you," he rumbled. She raised a brow at him.

"You could try, yes. You would not succeed." He glanced down to the pouch at her side. Her gaze also moved to it.

"Ah, this book was merely something I found in my office.

'Voneian Linguistics', by Jelena Wheatleigh. I thought I could have use for it. It is all I have on me at present, however. You will not find much more in my residence." He grunted. Blasted woman. It would be easier if he just imprisoned her here and now. It would definitely cause him a lot of trouble, and he probably wouldn't be able to have her executed or revoked of her title, but it might save him from falling into whatever scheme she was plotting.

He stared at her, seriously considering the matter for a few seconds, before finally letting out a tired sigh. Maybe he was growing weak. Watching her face that reminded him of the late baron and baroness made him more sentimental than usual. And in the end, this was the better deal for him.

"Fine. You have my word that I'll announce that you were acting under my orders. However, I expect you to uphold your part of the bargain as soon as possible." He shook his head. If only the younger sister had been the baroness instead. He knew Evelyne was much more fit for the position—despite Scarlett's attempts to convince people otherwise—both when it came to her managerial skills and her magic.

"Satisfied?" He raised an eye at Scarlett.

"Yes. Although I would prefer if I could have it in writing first," she said. Guifford's eye twitched.