Chapter 33: Manipulation or Affection?
Galliard stood with his arms tucked neatly behind his back, eyes occasionally flickering toward the Palace gates. He pondered the identity of the guest his lord was expecting, the so-called informant Frejlurd mentioned to his lord.
The day had begun like any other. Servants moved like clockwork, sweeping marble floors, dusting antique artifacts and trimming the hedges outside. It was routine, but tension hung faintly in the air, like morning mist.
"My lord." Galliard asked as he approached Estefan, who sat lazily on a velvet couch in the large hall, a cup of coffee in one hand and a folded newspaper in the other. "When shall we expect the guest?"
Estefan didn’t glance up from the newspaper. "Soon." He muttered, turning a page. "Frejlurd said they’d arrive sometime this morning. I’d rather not look disheveled in front of someone bearing valuable secrets."
He took a small sip of tea, his brows twitching. "Bitter." He whispered, but took another sip regardless after placing the newspaper down beside him as he saw news related to his stepbrother and his son as the newspaper hailed him to be the heir.
Then he just placed the cup down on the teapoy beside him, and he spoke again. "I forgot to ask something... You mentioned the servants’ residential zone was designed for entire families, correct?"
"Yes, my lord." Galliard answered quickly.
"Then why haven’t I seen a single family member around?" He asked. "I visited the area yesterday. Entire blocks of rooms, all quiet... Almost too quiet."
Galliard straightened. "Most of the servants live in the city, your grace. Before your arrival, they had no reason to remain here. Once we got orders that you would be the Baron of Rammstein, they returned to resume their posts."