Chương 201: The Interrogation

The air before the main entrance of the ducal palace was so heavy it induced genuine suffocation, as though the earth's gravity had doubled in that precise spot. The black Imperial carriage stood like a grand and lavish hearse awaiting a corpse, while the night horses continued exhaling blue smoke from their nostrils, striking the ground with their enchanted steel hooves and producing sounds resembling the beats of an anxious heart, their red eyes watching the guards with contempt.

Supreme Inspector Baron Croft, The Raven, stood erect as a black spear driven into the ground. His strange cloak, woven from the feathers of birds of prey, fluttered with a slow, regular rhythm despite the complete stillness of the air and the total absence of any wind, as though the cloak itself possessed a life of its own, breathing and awaiting the order to strike.

Sylvester Williams, the man who until moments ago had considered himself the city's uncrowned king and master of absolute power, now felt cold sweat droplets sliding with disturbing slowness along his spine beneath his lavish silk clothing. He struggled desperately to gather his scattered composure, forcefully summoning every remaining atom of his aristocratic pride, trying to hold in place the mask of coolness and control he had practiced for years before the mirror.

He knew he was not facing a mere arrogant officer or a general in search of bribes, he was facing the Inquisition, the sole entity in the Empire entirely independent, answering only to the Emperor's personal orders. An entity before which even the greatest Dukes of pure blood trembled, because the Inspectors recognize not titles, but results alone.

"Supreme Inspector Croft," said Sylvester, trying to adjust the tone of his voice to sound as steady and resonant as possible, painting a pale diplomatic smile that never reached his bloodshot eyes.

"I assure you that the timing of your visit, it is an unprecedented event in Seiron's history, and an undeniable great honor we do not claim lightly. We respect Imperial authority above all other consideration." Sylvester paused for a moment to regain his breath, then gestured with his slightly trembling hand toward the vast palace behind him.

"But as your penetrating eyes can see for themselves, the palace is living through a state of organized and feverish upheaval. We are literally in the final minutes of preparations for a colossal historical event, an event that concerns the future of this ancient city, and concerns directly the stability of the Empire's western borders which you hold so dear." Croft did not move. Did not blink.

His two dead gray eyes, resembling two stones of cold lead, remained fixed on Sylvester's face, as though dissecting his soul and dismantling his thoughts with an invisible surgical scalpel. The Inspector's silence was a lethal weapon, a terrifying void that compelled the adversary, especially someone afflicted with paranoia like Sylvester, to keep talking and reveal further slips of the tongue.

Sylvester swallowed again, feeling the dryness of his throat increase, and continued with a slight tension he could not conceal: "Today, my lord, is Coronation Day. The official ceremonies will commence precisely at noon. My entire mind, my time, and all the palace's military and service resources are devoted to one single thing: ensuring that the peaceful transfer of power is conducted in a manner befitting the name of the Williams family and the name of the Empire we represent.

Quite honestly, I cannot, with all due respect for your esteemed rank, devote the full and deep mental concentration required by an investigation as complex as the disappearance of an entire Imperial legion, at this precise critical moment." This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Sylvester took a small step forward, trying to play the political card, attempting to use his future influence as an accredited Duke.

"I request of you, in my capacity as the province's incoming Lord and legitimate governor within hours, a very brief grace period. Let us celebrate today. Let us stabilize the foundations of governance and prevent chaos in the streets. And tomorrow, at the very first light of the following day, once the crown has settled on my head and administrative matters have returned to their rightful course, I will open every closed door for you.

I will place all confidential records, field reports, and every commander of my army entirely at your absolute disposal. I will be a strong ally and partner to you in uncovering this mystery, not a suspect." Croft's silence lasted for heavy seconds that felt like long hours. The guards were exchanging anxious, terror-filled glances, and the servants gathered in the background had held their breath until their faces were nearly turning blue.

Then, with a nerve-racking deliberateness, Croft moved his head with the motion of a bird of prey watching its quarry die.

"Peaceful... transfer... of power..." Croft repeated the phrase slowly, articulating each word, in his graveled voice resembling the sound of dry bones grinding inside an old grave.

"What a remarkably interesting phrase. And a bitter irony, in a city reeking of fresh blood and putrefying fear." The Inspector inserted his pallid hand slowly into his inner coat and drew out an extremely old and heavy silver pocket watch. Its cover was engraved with terrifying intricate detail, a human skull standing atop two crossed bones. He opened the cover with a sharp metallic click and looked at the hands. Strangely, the hands were turning in the reverse of the normal direction.

"The Empire does not concern itself with crowns, Sylvester," Croft said with absolute coldness, looking at the watch.

"Crowns rust, and nobles die, and families go extinct. The Empire concerns itself with one thing only: absolute order. And the disappearance of five thousand elite soldiers is disorder, and disorder is a crime that can never be tolerated." Croft snapped the watch cover shut with a sharp, resounding click in the silence, like the sound of a neck breaking, making Sylvester flinch internally despite his attempt to hold himself together.

"Very well," said Croft with coolness as he returned the watch to his pocket.

"I will grant you this day of yours. Enjoy your ridiculous ceremonies. Enjoy the crown you pursue with blind passion. Play the role of Duke today. And let your day be bright and full of applause, because tomorrow will be very dark indeed." Croft suddenly brought his face close to Sylvester's in a swift and startling motion entirely disproportionate to his height, until their noses were nearly touching. Sylvester felt the cold of death emanating from the Inspector's body.

Croft whispered in a voice audible only to the two of them: "Tomorrow, I want you standing before me in the wing I will be occupying, which is to be considered my temporary office from this moment forward. And prepare real answers, not hollow political speeches. If I discover that you had a hand, however small, in the disappearance of General Vargas and his legion, you will not need a crown to place on your head. You will need a shroud to wrap what remains of your body."

Inspector Croft stepped back one pace and pivoted abruptly on his heel. His feathered cloak billowed violently behind him like the wings of a gigantic raven about to take flight, and he walked with slow, measured, and confident strides toward the western wing of the palace, the wing he had designated as his residence without asking permission. His personal guards, who appeared suddenly from behind the carriage as though they had formed from smoke, followed behind him.

Croft left behind him Sylvester standing in the cold morning sun, surrounded by his guard, yet feeling a bitter chill gnawing at his bones. Sylvester exhaled deeply and ran his trembling hand across his brow to wipe the cold sweat. He turned toward the throne hall, his eyes blazing with the fire of desperation and blind resolve.

"One day..." he muttered to himself in a feverish voice, consoling himself with the words.

"One single day is all I need. One day is enough to complete the coronation, crush the opposition in the streets, and activate the city's great defensive array. When the crown is placed on my head and I possess the foundation stone of all of Seiron, I will be fortified, and even the Emperor himself will be forced to negotiate with me rather than threaten me with an intelligence officer."