The sudden appearance of the North Delro Company. Exiles from the Gospel Church.
Old Dunling was already overflowing with things that defied reason, yet it was as if the world had reached some silent agreement—every time one mystery surfaced, another arrived before the first had settled.
Lloyd remembered the name Sherman well enough. Among those cardinals whose authority had once towered over nations, Sherman had never been particularly conspicuous. Compared with the others, he had seemed like a genuine man of faith, spending his days carrying out his duties and offering prayers, with little interest in power or intrigue. Yet in the end, even he had become an exile, driven all the way to Old Dunling.
"The Gospel Church has already begun to fracture," Oscar explained. "Those exiled factions are worth generous bounties to the new Pope. Though, to us, the reward money matters far less than the possibility of cooperation."
He looked at Lloyd with unmistakable expectation.
"Any leads?" Lloyd asked. "You know how vast Old Dunling is. If Sherman has buried himself somewhere inside the city, finding him won't be easy."
These cardinals were no fools. Escaping the Seven Hills alone proved how cautious and calculating they truly were.
"None," Oscar admitted. "We suspect Sherman had help. While he was still at sea, North Delro never lost sight of him. But the moment he stepped ashore, he vanished without a trace—as though someone was sheltering him."
He spread his hands.
"Which means... you'll have to improvise."
Lloyd fell silent for a moment before fixing Oscar with a wary stare.
"And you're not worried I'll go too far?"
"According to Ingelvig law," Oscar shrugged, "he's nothing more than an illegal immigrant."
Then his expression became slightly more serious.
"There is one thing that might serve as a lead. North Delro has very few operations inland. Our influence only reaches so far—that's precisely why we hired you. Sherman is a foreign exile. For him to enter Old Dunling so smoothly and disappear this completely, someone must be assisting him. And people capable of pulling off something like that are exceedingly rare in this city."
Lloyd pondered the implication before giving a small nod.
"I understand."
"No need to rush," Oscar said. "This matter is merely an added bonus for our partnership with Florence. Don't force it. But if you really do find him... your share of the rewards won't be small."
"Sherman..."
Lloyd offered no immediate answer.
He had to admit the assignment had caught his interest.
With the envoy's true intentions still hidden, exiles who stood in opposition to them had suddenly appeared. From Lloyd's perspective, neither side could be called an ally.
There was every chance that he himself would eventually become a target of the delegation.
Perhaps this time...
...he could make use of the conflict between the envoys and the exiles.
The lost Book of Revelation. The hallucinogen that had resurfaced. The exiles. The delegation.
Everything was beginning to resemble a chaotic gambling table.
Lloyd possessed only a handful of chips, yet somehow he intended to walk away with everything.
Well...
Perhaps everything was too ambitious.
But at the very least, he refused to leave the table as the biggest loser.
Thinking about everything that lay ahead gave him a headache.
The safest course of action would be simple—buy a ticket, board the next ship, and put as much distance as possible between himself and Old Dunling before the city's darkness swallowed him whole.
But Lloyd had never been a docile lamb.
Danger stirred something inside him.
Some strange instinct whispered that a secret capable of changing everything was waiting somewhere within this city.
If he left now...
...he would never learn the truth.
"That's all?" Lloyd asked. "Nothing else?"
"That's all."
Oscar answered without hesitation.
Lloyd rose to his feet. It seemed their discussion had come to an end.
"Don't put too much pressure on yourself, Lloyd."
Oscar's sudden remark came without warning.
There was an odd meaning behind the smile on his face, as though he knew far more than he ought to.
Lloyd paid it little mind.
Today's true conversation was never about him.
It was about Seriu and Oscar.
At heart, Lloyd remained nothing more than a lone wolf. Material gain had never been enough to move him. Compared to profit, his own will always came first.
Besides, this also concerned House Stuart.
Although he and Seriu were close, there were still boundaries that should not be crossed.
With a brief gesture of farewell, Lloyd left the room.
Only Oscar and Seriu remained.
Silence lingered for what felt like an eternity before Seriu finally broke it.
"You sent him away on purpose, didn't you?"
She looked directly into Oscar's eyes.
Seriu possessed eyes that bordered on supernatural. Very few people could withstand the quiet scrutiny hidden within them.
"More or less." Oscar smiled faintly. "You understand Lloyd better than I do. If something doesn't concern him, it's better not to drag him into it. Otherwise everything only becomes more troublesome."
It was becoming increasingly clear that Oscar knew far more than Seriu had expected.
"I should thank Lloyd's curiosity, really. Without it, I wouldn't have known how to steer the conversation or find an excuse to send him off."
Picking up a napkin, Oscar wiped the sweat from his palms.
The conversation had appeared peaceful.
In truth, he had been tense from beginning to end.
Lloyd was a complete madman—utterly impossible to predict.
Even though they got along surprisingly well, Oscar could never shake the feeling that the next second Lloyd might decide to cut him down for some incomprehensible reason.
Just like Seriu herself.
Even she had nearly died beneath Lloyd's blade once before.
Until the very last moment...
...no one could ever know what he might choose to do.
"So this supposed cooperation..." Seriu said quietly. "It was only a pretext, wasn't it?"
Oscar nodded.
"I'm a novelist, yes. But I'm also one of North Delro's shareholders. When meeting someone of your status, I need a respectable excuse."
He rested his chin against one hand, smiling faintly.
"So then...
Your Grace, Duchess Stuart—
How much do you really know about us?"
Only now...
...did the real conversation begin.
Seriu slowly shook her head.
"Shouldn't introductions be your responsibility?"
"Fair enough."
Oscar's smile faded, replaced by complete seriousness.
"Have you ever read The Republic?"
"The Republic? I've heard of it."
Seriu frowned, unsure where this conversation was headed.
Yavi had once spoken to her about these people.
As the Stuart family's elderly steward, he possessed more secrets than most men ever would.
Including those connected to Oscar.
When Seriu had learned this hidden side of him, her guard had risen immediately.
Looking back now...
...their meeting aboard the train almost felt orchestrated.
"The Republic, written by the philosopher Plato," Oscar began. "It is one of the books we admire most. Many of its ideas resonate deeply with us."
"I've read it."
Reading was one of Seriu's few genuine pleasures.
The shelves of Stuart Manor were filled with books collected from every corner of the world, almost all of them gathered for her by Yavi.
"What did you think of the society Plato described?"
Oscar asked.
Seriu considered the question before answering.
"A beautiful utopia...
...that is lifeless...
...and forever beyond reach."
On the surface it appeared perfect.
Yet beneath that perfection lay complete stagnation.
Nothing could change.
Nothing was allowed to grow.
It resembled a pool of perfectly still water—clear, peaceful...
...and utterly dead.
Oscar nodded.
"True enough. By today's standards it's hopelessly outdated. Even so, some of its principles are still worth learning from."
Seriu's answer surprised him no more than it surprised himself.
He had reached much the same conclusion long ago.
"So what exactly are you trying to say?" Seriu asked. "Surely you didn't invite me here just to discuss philosophy."
"Of course not." Oscar chuckled. "Philosophy has never been very good at winning a young lady's heart."
He leaned forward.
"We admire the ideal behind The Republic. But in the end, Plato could only leave it behind as theory."
"He lacked the power to make it real."
"He could never build such a nation."
Oscar's voice became solemn.
"But..."
"We can."
Something shifted within Seriu's gaze.
She remained silent.
After a brief pause, she laughed.
"That's treason."
"Depends entirely on how you define a 'nation,' doesn't it?" Oscar replied calmly. "We possess no territory."
"So why are you really here?" Seriu asked. "To recruit me into your mysterious little organization so we can build this ideal state together?"
She smiled faintly.
"To me, it sounds less like a nation...
...and more like an exclusive club for wealthy and powerful people."
"Yavi has mentioned you before."
"He said your organization is secretive."
"And not particularly well liked."
Oscar only laughed.
"People will always cling to prejudice."
"I simply hope you'll learn who we truly are before making your decision."
"We would all be delighted to welcome you as our newest member."
He produced an envelope.
Its crimson wax seal bore the same emblem engraved upon the pendant hanging from his neck.
He gently pushed it across the table.
"Me?"
Seriu didn't reach for it.
Instead, her expression grew even more guarded.
"What makes you think I'm worth recruiting?"
Ever since Lawrence had begun watching her, Seriu had viewed every unexpected visitor with quiet suspicion.
She had only recently inherited the title of Duchess.
To those with darker ambitions...
...she looked like nothing more than a fat lamb waiting for slaughter.
"We seek out anyone of value," Oscar answered.
"Recruitment...
Investment...
Call it whatever you like."
"You qualify."
"So does Lloyd."
"A pity his ties to the Purification Bureau run too deep. We'd rather avoid becoming involved with them."
"So we had no choice but to give up."
"Lloyd?"
Seriu blinked.
She had never imagined someone like Lloyd could attract their attention.
Oscar explained with complete sincerity.
"You remember the three classes Plato describes in The Republic, don't you?"
"I do."
Seriu answered without hesitation.
"The philosopher-kings."
"The warriors."
"The common citizens."
Oscar nodded.
"Lloyd is an exceptional warrior."
"Exceptionally so."
"You only have to witness the way he throws himself toward death without hesitation."
"He would become the greatest defender our nation could ever possess."
His admiration was unmistakable.
"If circumstances allowed, I'd gladly make him part of our nation."
"As for you..."
"You're the youngest Duchess of House Stuart."
"Behind you stand countless noble families."
"As the years pass, your influence will only continue to grow."
"You have every quality needed to become an outstanding ruler."
"With your presence..."
"...our nation would flourish far more quickly."
Then Oscar's tone softened once again.
"We won't pressure you."
"An ideal nation can only be built upon willing hearts."
"Coercion has no place in it."
"Whether you join is entirely your decision."
"And don't answer today."
"Take your time."
"Think it through."
Seriu said nothing.
Her eyes slowly drifted toward the sealed letter.
Without realizing it, she found herself staring into the eye embossed within the crimson wax.
For a fleeting instant...
...it almost seemed alive.
The eye observed her...
...just as she observed it.
As though each were quietly searching the other's soul.
"There is one more thing."
Oscar spoke again.
"If you join us..."
"...you may end up saving Lloyd's life."
"What do you mean?"
The instant he heard her ask, a satisfied smile crept across Oscar's face.
"Nothing certain."
"Only a possibility."
"You must remember where we are."
"This is Old Dunling."
"Lloyd belongs to the Purification Bureau."
"And the Purification Bureau serves Queen Victoria."
Oscar's knowledge seemed almost limitless.
"The Queen's will always comes first."
"If one day her will conflicts with Lloyd's..."
"Do you honestly believe the Purification Bureau will choose Lloyd instead?"
"And when that day comes..."
"Do you truly think he'll escape this city alive?"
Oscar met her gaze.
"When that happens..."
"We'll be the only ones capable of helping him."
"So you're threatening me into joining?"
"Not at all."
"We never force anyone."
"I'm merely showing you where the interests lie."
"You would become an insurance policy."
"When Lloyd inevitably goes too far..."
"You'd be there to pull him back."
He laughed.
"Though if you happen to pull him all the way into our camp..."
"I certainly wouldn't complain."
For all his talk of giving up on Lloyd, Oscar had no intention of letting such a rare talent slip away if another opportunity presented itself.
A man who shared his outlook...
...and fought like Lloyd...
...was extraordinarily difficult to find.
"Wait..."
Seriu suddenly frowned.
"If that's true..."
"Then you don't answer to Queen Victoria either?"
Oscar smiled.
"We're a parliamentary republic."
"Absolute monarchy isn't really our style."
He rose from his chair and offered her a courteous farewell.
"I've already said more than enough today."
"As for whether you'll join..."
"I hope you'll give it serious thought."
"If possible..."
"I truly hope you'll accept."
"After all..."
"Not long ago, another remarkable ruler turned us down."
"We were heartbroken."
"Who are your members?"
Oscar shook his head immediately.
"I'm afraid that's confidential."
"Even if you joined us..."
"You still might never know everyone."
"So that's it?" Seriu asked. "You're not worried I'll tell someone?"
"You won't."
Oscar smiled calmly.
"Besides..."
"Even after everything I've told you..."
"This nation still exists only as an idea."
"Doesn't it?"
In truth...
Oscar had revealed remarkably little.
From beginning to end, the conversation had resembled a charismatic salesman persuading someone to invest in an impossible dream.
Or perhaps...
...a prophet selling miracles.
"Wait."
"I have one last question."
Seriu stopped him.
Oscar turned.
She looked directly into his eyes.
"You value Lloyd because of his strength."
"You value House Stuart because of its influence and resources."
She paused.
"But what about you?"
Her voice sharpened.
"Why did you join?"
"And what exactly can you contribute..."
"...to this ideal nation?"
Oscar hadn't expected that question.
After a brief silence, he smiled.
"Value..."
"...is a remarkably flexible thing."
"It isn't limited to politics, resources, or military power."
"The meaning changes depending on where you choose to look."
He answered with complete seriousness.
"My novels..."
"...are actually quite popular."