The scimitar itself was beautiful, with a golden, slender guard, a scabbard inlaid with small, water-blue gemstones, and a blade that exuded a chilling aura, steeped in unknown amounts of blood.
But why was he handing this to him?
Hughes watched the departing pirates and couldn’t help but yawn.
The sky was already dark, and he had been busy all day again. He hadn’t slept at all the previous night!
Seeing that Alexei did not take it, Hughes shoved the blade into his arms. "This blade is yours. You like wearing a military uniform, but you’re missing a blade at your waist."
Alexei instinctively looked at the blade in his hands. It was Jeremiah’s personal weapon.
Although that pirate captain had been filthy, this blade was exceptionally clean and well-maintained, clearly a treasured possession.
He stood there in a daze.
"What, did the pirates scare you?" Hughes chuckled. "There’s plenty of work ahead. You should head back now."
With that, he walked towards Connor, who was holding the reins of a horse.
Hughes mounted it with more practiced movents this ti, grabbed the reins, and yawned.
The horse trotted forward, carrying the two of them away.
"Young Master, he’s still standing there," Connor whispered.
Hughes turned to look at the dock. In the afterglow of the setting sun, Alexei held the blade motionless, lost in thought.
As if sensing Hughes’ gaze, Alexei slowly drew the blade, flicked his wrist, and let the evening light glisten off the blade. The blade traced an arc in the air before stopping at his chest.
Then he turned to face Hughes, gave a slight bow, and sheathed the weapon.
This was a gesture of respect used by officers in the Imperial Army, yet both of them were civil officials, weren’t they?
This Chief Scribe was certainly an interesting man.
Hughes waved his hand and rode away.
"It’s obvious that he really likes that blade," Connor remarked.
"Indeed," Hughes nodded. "Perhaps he cos from a poor family. We could give him a salary increase."
Connor hesitated but said nothing, rely urging the horse forward alongside Hughes.
—The Chief Scribe serving the Frontier Count was paid by the royal family and answered only to them.
Strictly speaking, Hughes giving Alexei money counted as bribery, a violation of the Empire’s constitution.
But what did that have to do with him, a re butler?
He was Hughes’ butler, not the Empress’. His master’s master was not his master.
Alexei glanced at the blade in his hands. He did indeed like it.
What was this? An attempt to win him over?
He chuckled and shook his head.
This lord acted strangely, but he did not find him unpleasant.
Could Hughes truly establish himself in the treacherous waters of the Storm Ocean?
Alexei was both curious and eager to see.
"Forget it. I’ll just work harder from now on, consider it for the sake of this blade."
The dock fell silent once more. The faint glows on the distant sea mirrored the rising moon in the night sky, peaceful and serene.
Returning to the manor, Hughes casually brushed off the butler’s inquiries, handed him a few blueprints, and instructed Connor to find a blacksmith to see if they could be forged.
Then he collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep.
Connor sighed helplessly.
He had many things he wanted to ask, but he could only wait for Hughes to wake up.
The master’s recent behavior felt unfamiliar to him.
In the past, Hughes would never have personally negotiated with pirates, let alone taken over territorial affairs.
But this change… was not necessarily bad.
Connor looked at the blueprints in his hands.
"A blast furnace? A steam engine?"
Connor did not understand these things well, but the diagrams looked exceedingly complex.
He wasn’t sure if the island’s old blacksmith could handle them.
Tucking the blueprints into his coat, Connor sighed, recalling the events from earlier that day.
He had been woken up in the morning by a panicked maid.
He recognized her, her na was Zoe. She had been tending to Hughes since his days on Duke Cohen’s estate. She had co to Castel Island solely because Hughes had insisted on bringing her.
This was actually against convention. Male nobles typically did not choose female maids as their personal attendants, as it would invite ridicule and potential trouble.
For example, during hunting trips and similar outings, it would be inconvenient to have a female attendant present.
But Hughes… the master was overly indulgent with him.
Connor sighed. Perhaps there was so personal relationship between Hughes and Zoe, but that was the young master’s private affair. It was not his place to ddle or investigate.
A good butler should ask less and do more, this was the wisdom he had gained from decades of experience.
Not actively seeking information did not an he was ignorant.
So when Hughes had been unconscious, Connor arranged for Zoe to watch over him at night. He knew she would be dedicated to the task.
That was why, upon seeing Zoe’s panicked expression, his heart sank.
Sothing had happened.
Hughes had disappeared.
Connor imdiately organized the servants to search every inch of the manor, personally inspecting Hughes’ bedroom for clues.
The results were odd, the manor showed no signs of intrusion.
There were no unusual marks in Hughes’ room. The windows were securely shut, and the door lock was untouched.
The night guards outside the manor were beyond suspicion, and the servants’ accounts matched up, they did not seem to have been bribed.
So how had Hughes vanished?
Contrary to common belief, abducting soone from a guarded and inhabited house was nearly impossible.
In history, all successful cases of such kidnappings had involved inside help.
Thus, Connor’s first move was to detain everyone in the manor for questioning.
He did not alert the soldiers outside, not wanting to make a scene.
Besides, mobilizing soldiers required authorization from the chief scribe, Alexei.
Moreover, calling in soldiers would be of little use.
It would only create chaos, allowing the real culprit to smuggle Hughes out.
Yes, from the mont the incident happened, Connor suspected that Hughes was still inside the manor.
Even if an insider had assisted in the abduction, it would have been difficult to move Hughes out imdiately.
The night guards were utterly reliable; sneaking past them was nearly impossible.
Who would dare to target Hughes?
Gem Bay? Those pirates were capable of anything, but their preferred thod was sailing a fleet to your doorstep and demanding money.
Besides, they were arriving today for negotiations.
The Duke’s political rivals?
Possible, but was Hughes really that important? The Duke doted on him, but he wasn’t senile enough to risk a major mistake for an illegitimate son.
Then… could it be…
Connor’s gaze shifted past the window, landing on a distant structure.
A towering spire stood there, crowned with a tal plaque etched with an image.
A single candle, burning quietly in the night.
It was the emblem of the Church—the insignia of the Candlelight Order’s chapel.
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