Chapter 253: End of the Record Keeper

Henryk Dabrowski, the patriarch of the Dabrowski family. Sitting in his manor, he looked down at the letter that had arrived and frowned. It was unusual for Snowid to send word to him ever since Izaak’s death. Both families had kept a safe distance from one another, with the Dabrowski family leaving the capital and retreating back to their lands.

"Father." Lech, Henryk’s second son, called out, seeing his father’s confused face. Sighing, he handed the note over and leaned back into his chair.

"Konrad has sent word on Snowid’s behalf. They believe the Empire is about to make a move." Looking at the letter, Lech chuckled and threw the note onto the table.

"It obviously a diversion. I mean, do they have any proof." Clicking his tongue, Henryk scratched his beard, falling into thought.

"But why send word to us?"

"Because we are the guardians of the west, the first line of defence against the Empire."

"You’re right." Henryk grabbed his eyes and shook his head in regret. "Ever since your brother died, I feel like I’ve been going insane."

"You are not wrong to distrust the royal family, but they need us strong at the end of the day. They need you as an ally, not an enemy." Lech carefully stood up. "Father. Let me deal with this. Go see Jakub."

Henryk smiled, thinking of his grandson, and got up. Patting Lech on the shoulder, he left the room, leaving his son alone. Hearing his father leave, Lech’s eyes went cold as he picked up the letter again. He still couldn’t believe it wasn’t a trick despite what he said.

Grabbing the small bell on the table, he rang it, and a servant came in within seconds. "Get me the employee reports." The servant bowed, and Lech took his place in his father’s seat. Rubbing the wooden armrest, he smiled, knowing it would be his in the future.

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Walking through the manor’s garden, Horace wore a peaceful smile as he tended to the bushes. He was thankful that the gardener whose identity he had stolen was good at his job; otherwise, he would have been lost about what to do. ’I must remind Fatherto include this in training.’

Reminding himself, Horace looked around the garden. The entry point into the manor, patrol routes, or anything else would be useful. "Excuse me." Out of the corner of his eye, a maid came over, looking at him with confused eyes. "Who are you? Where’s Kacper?"

Horace groaned internally and looked at the maid with polite eyes. No matter how hard he tried to alter his appearance, those close to Kacper would still recognise the difference between the two. Leaning in closer, Horace whispered, "I’m his brother. Our mother is ill, and she wants to see her Grandchild. Please keep it a secret."

Pulling back, Horace’s face showed his plea as he clasped his hands together. The maid, although suspicious, sighed and nodded in understanding. "Fine. But he better return quickly. He should know the manor is getting rid of servants lately."

"Thank you. I’ll warn him, but he is a good son. You can’t fault him." The maid smiled and walked off. Out of sight, Horace’s eyes went cold. Clicking his tongue, he looked at the maid’s back before working on the hedges again.

"You can’t be serious, Klara?" After an hour working in the Garden, Horace heard a booming voice from the small canopy in the garden’s centre. Despite the playful tone in the voice, its underlying dignity and pride made it obvious that it belonged to a noble. Carefully making his way over, Horace stood a small distance away and watched.

"It’s true, Your Grace. Izaak loved plain food—unless he was just being polite to me," Klara said happily as she bounced her son on her leg. Horace’s eyes squinted, recognising the duke instantly. Looking at the young boy, he smiled and cut a branch sticking out in the hedge.

"How is he?" Henryk looked at Jakub, reaching out and pinching his cheek. Frowning, Klara held her son tighter and frowned.

"He misses his father." Her voice started to break, and tears formed. "I still can’t believe it. I mean, who would want to kill him." Henryk also frowned and looked down.

"My family has many enemies. But it seems it was the Empire." Horace froze upon hearing that. Getting slightly closer, he crouched down and took out a small shovel, pretending to dig up dirt.

"So we don’t even know?" Klara’s bitter chuckle echoed.

"It’s because we don’t know." Looking at her, he gently touched her leg in a familial way. "You’re a commoner, so it expected you wouldn’t understand. But the Empire leaves no trace of when they work. Besides, why would the King hurt my son when he married his daughter to him."

Klara wanted to ask more but could see Henryk didn’t want to continue the conversation. "I must say your garden is beautiful. I have been meaning to tell you but never had the chance." Sucking in her tears, she moved on, and Henryk’s mood lifted.

"It’s my wife’s pride. She used to bring out Izaak and Lech here when they were kids to play."

"Jakub loves it aswell. He will sit for hours watching the workers or trying to catch the bugs. I try to stop him, but he always ends up filthy." Henryk laugh boomed once more as he looked at the young boy who stared blankly into the bushes.

"It’s fine. Boys his age should get used to mud. Lech was like him. It’s why he became such a great warrior." Despite his mood, Henryk looked at Klara seriously. "You have been taking guards with you when you bring him out here?"

"Not all the time. I don’t want to be a bother. I already feel like I am leeching off you too much, Your Grace." With a deep exhale, Henryk stood and walked behind her. Resting his hands on the back of her chair, he looked at the manor.

"Klara. You are one of the final connections I have to Izaak. I don’t understand why he fell in love with you, but I know he did. You are allowed to be a bother to me whilst I am alive if it means it protects you, but more importantly, Jakub." Klara smiled and looked down at the boy. Lightly kissing his head, she looked out.

"If you insist, Your Grace."

"I do. Now, it looks like the boy is tired. It’s best if you take him in." Looking at Jakub, who struggled to keep himself awake, Klara nodded and got up. Walking back to the manor, Henryk looked at his guards.

"Who is in charge of her and my grandson’s protection." His tone became heavy, and the guards all lowered their heads. Only one came forward and bowed before him.

"The Head Butler, Your Grace." Henryk nodded and walked off, followed by his guard. Hearing them leave, Horace stood up with annoyed eyes. If only he had been in the manor a week earlier, he may have been able to get to Jakub easier.

Looking at the manor, he clicked his tongue. If only he could have gotten a disguise that let him roam around freely inside, it wouldn’t have been a problem.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------"Record Keeper." Adrian spoke warmly to Abdul, getting a soft grunt from him. Placing the large book in his hands, he sat at the table opposite Adrian.

"What is it, Adrian?" Lacking the warmth he had gotten, Abdul stared coldly at the masked man. Adrian didn’t let it bother him, pouring himself a glass of water and confusing Abdul as the man never lifted his mask in front of others.

"I just wonder if you have given any consideration to the offer you have been given." Looking down at the book, Abdul played with his fingers. He knew the Emporer’s plans to create a schism, and while he enjoyed the idea that the Church would lose a valuable ally, he couldn’t accept being a part of it. He had already betrayed the faith in one way.

"Let me ask you? Last time we spoke, I agreed to work with the Empire because I would be left in charge of the Followers. Is the deal changing, Adrian?"

Adrian chuckled but shrugged. "It’s your fault. You have proven to be more of an obstacle than help. Right now, we are in a time where unity is important, and your old way of thinking is a hindrance."

"So I should accept? I will be forced to preach something I don’t believe."

"Why does it matter?" Adrian asked nonchalantly, making Abdul dryly chuckle.

"It’s easy for someone who believes in nothing to say that. I am trying to save and guide people on the right path."

"Bullshit. If you wish to save people, submitting would be the best choice. The power you hold over the Followers is immense. Refusing to help the Empire means risking the lives of the people that follow you. His Majesty isn’t asking you to abandon Khors. He simply asks the people to see and worship God as they should have been."

"So I should live kneeling. Forgetting everything I have been taught and preached."

"Of course. Then you save lives." Adrian and Abdul looked at one another with cold eyes. Looking away, Abdul picked up the large book and stood up.

"Have a good day, Adrian."

"So that’s your answer." Adrian sighed and stood up. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small knife and charged at Abdul, pushing the man to the ground. Lifting the dagger up, he stabbed Abdul, who blocked the knife with his book.

"This is always his answer." With a bitter chuckle, Abdul tried to break free but failed. Pulling the knife out of the book, Adrian hit it away. Letting go of the book, Abdul grabbed his arms and pushed back. "I pity you, Adrian. Such a weak man."

Despite his taunts, the blade slowly lowered with Adrian’s cold eyes, saying all it needed. Abdul pushed as hard as he could, but feeling the cold steel pierce into his chest, he let out a cry of pain. Nothing worked to stop Adrian, and his kicks seemingly did not affect the man.

Adrian gritted his teeth and, with a final push, shoved the blade deep into the old man’s heart. Falling back, he let out a couple of deep breaths and threw the mask off, showing his disfigured face. Looking at the water, he got up and downed the glass before walking to the mask, putting it back on and going to his desk.

Ringing the bell, he called for one of his servants. "Clean this up."