Chapter 70

Chapter 70

James reread the letter with a grave expression.

Was the situation truly dire enough for Crowley to disguise himself under a false identity and send such a cryptic message?

So, the Golden Crow may not be able to offer support for a while.

Ever since Rose had collapsed after witnessing the memory sealed within the serpent-shaped ring left behind by the priests of Ouroboros, James had maintained contact with Crowley through various means—magical messages, telegrams to the Assembly, even letters disguised as official correspondence.

But never before had Crowley gone so far as to veil his identity entirely.

He must have decided that even using the Assembly’s communications as a Member of Parliament was no longer safe.

James’s thoughts drifted back to the very first message he had ever received from him:

To JD
The time to use the transferred item draws near. Prepare accordingly.
—A2C

The transferred item…

For the first time in a while, James felt the weight of responsibility pressing down on his chest.

During their first meeting, Crowley had asked him to do two things:

First, to deliver Rose’s parents’ letter and the badge of the Golden Crow to her.
And second—

James rested his hand over the pocket of his waistcoat. Beneath the fabric, his fingertips traced the small, round outline hidden inside.

He drew a deep breath and reached for his jacket. His business at the Egard office was nearly finished; all that remained was to receive a report on the ongoing cover-up.

“Ah, sir! Are you heading out? Shall I accompany you?”

“No need. I’ll be returning to the mansion today—it’s been far too long.”

“Understood. I’ll have your carriage brought around immediately.”

The journey from downtown Egard to Triden Mansion took quite some time.

If it’s going to be troublesome anyway, I might as well bring the car myself. I’ll have to contact Philip.

It had been a week long enough to make even a lazy cat seem useful. For once, James found himself missing the efficiency of his chief secretary, Philip Bonard.

Philip wasn’t perfect—at least not by James’s impossible standards—but he was competent, loyal, and, perhaps most importantly, amusing to tease.

Watching the monotonous countryside roll past the window, James tried to estimate the time of his arrival.

Rose was probably having lunch by now.

Perhaps he’d surprise her—walk in while she was eating and see the look on her face.

If only he could take her hand, even briefly, to release this wild current of magic surging inside him…

Just thinking of her made the long drive pass in a blur.

And finally, gleaming white under the midday sun, Triden Mansion came into view.

“Ah!”

Rose nearly dropped her fork when James appeared in the dining room. She had been in the middle of lunch and looked up at him in shock.

“Please, continue eating. I don’t intend to interrupt.”

At his calm tone, Rose’s eyes darted between her plate and James. To think she was actually debating whether to finish her meal or talk to James Dautryche—a man whom countless people would pay a fortune just to share five minutes of conversation with.

But to James, the sight of Rose visibly torn between food and him was simply endearing. He found himself wanting to watch her wrestle with the choice for a while longer.

“No, actually, I had something to tell you anyway!”

“You have sauce on your lip.”

“Really?”

“No. I’m teasing. I’ll change and be back—wait for me.”

“What—! You came all this way just to tease me?”

Rose scowled, but James was already gone. With a small huff, she poked at her roasted chicken with her fork, pouting.

She had been just about to send him a telegram asking him to return to Triden Mansion, so his sudden appearance couldn’t have been timed more perfectly.

Only thirty minutes earlier, she’d received a fresh telegram from Miss Iris Brown herself—confirming her visit. Rose had invited her to the mansion under the pretext of delivering the copied victims’ list, and Iris had accepted.

“I’ve booked a train ticket to Egard two days from now. I’m rather excited—it’s been ages since my last trip. I’ll arrive at 11 a.m.”

Meeting Nigel Brown and Iris Brown in Ashville had been far too convenient to dismiss as mere coincidence.

This is good. Really good. Finally, a lead in James’s search for that girl—a light at the end of the tunnel!

If James truly was connected to the Mythos serial kidnappings, Iris’s list might help them identify the right person immediately.

Or perhaps—perhaps Iris herself was the girl he’d been searching for.

Rose pressed a hand against her chest, which suddenly felt tight.

So what if she is?

James only wanted to reunite with the girl who had been kidnapped alongside him as a child—to see how she’d lived since, to reminisce about the past, to talk as old friends.

Really? Just that?

Her thoughts stuttered to a halt.

“He said it was a gift from his savior. That no one was allowed to touch it.”
“He cherished it because the girl who was with him during the kidnapping lent it to him.”
“It should still be at the Dautryche estate.”

Maria’s words echoed in her mind.

He really still keeps that doll, doesn’t he?
Is gratitude the only thing he feels toward that girl?

She told herself there was no reason to feel like this. She could just ask him casually, in passing: I saw that doll in one of your photos—do you still have it?

Easier said than done.

Her chest felt heavy, no matter how rationally she tried to think. That strange flicker of jealousy she’d felt toward Iris earlier hadn’t gone away; it was still there, stubborn and foreign.

She sighed. Pathetic. Getting emotional over something that’s not even my business?

Her appetite vanished entirely. She barely touched the rest of her food before heading upstairs.

The door to the sitting room stood open.

“Rose.”

He was already there, sitting on the sofa, freshly changed and reading the newspaper. The sound of her name in his low, familiar voice made her heart skip.

“Ahem. It’s… been a while, James.”

James folded his paper neatly and set it on the tea table before gesturing to the seat across from him. Rose, pretending to be calm, sat down.

“So, while I was away—nothing out of the ordinary, I hope?”

“No, nothing.”

She shook her head.

“Everything else is just what I already told you in my telegrams.”

“Right. The duck confit was delicious, and you took a walk in the garden with Maria.”

“Ahem—that’s not the important part! Miss Iris is bringing the victims’ list to Triden Mansion!”

“Ah, I see. Working diligently on my request, how touching.”

“According to her, there are five names that match your criteria—including hers.”

“Hmm.”

His lukewarm reaction made Rose uneasy. It almost felt as if he already knew—like he was certain Iris was the one, and saw no reason to be excited.

Trying to gauge him, Rose spoke lightly.

“Maria showed me your childhood photo album.”

“What?”

James’s composure cracked instantly. Rose blinked in surprise—was it her imagination, or were his ears turning red?

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I asked what you thought. Of my childhood self.”

“You were infuriatingly handsome for a child.”

“Ha! I’ll admit, I was rather good-looking.”

“Unbelievable.”

“Not arrogance—just accurate self-assessment.”

“Oh, please.”

Rose rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help smiling a little. Then she seized the moment to bring up what she’d meant to ask all along.

“Anyway, the photo where you were dressed as a rabbit was adorable—I almost couldn’t stop looking.”

“That picture was in the album?”

He groaned, rubbing his forehead as though recalling some great humiliation.

“You were so cute. I didn’t think a boy could be that cute.”

“Cute? I was handsome—even in a rabbit costume.”

“No, cute. And apparently, you were very attached to that rabbit doll.”

“Ha… of course. That.”

James sighed and ruffled his hair.

“It’s just a keepsake. Nothing more.”

“From the girl you’ve been searching for?”