Sebastian lifted the lid of the chest a little further, and it was filled with Gold.
Not just a few coins scattered at the bottom, but a proper hoard, foreign minted pieces mixed together in loose piles. Alongside them sat silver chains, rings set with polished precious stones, brooches engraved with noble sigils, and small ornamental trinkets that clearly had no practical value beyond status and wealth.
This was hidden wealth. Seb gave a low exhale, almost amused despite himself.
"…No wonder it was heavy," he muttered, shifting the chest slightly as if confirming it.
Vesemir crouched beside him, eyes scanning the contents with the calm focus of someone who had seen greed in many forms before.
"Why do I have the feeling that even the Count doesn't know of this..." he said quietly.
Seb didn't respond, his attention had already moved past the gold.
Something else sat beneath it.
A stack of rolled parchments, dozens of them, some neatly tied with faded ribbon, others folded tightly, and a few clearly crumpled as if they had been handled more often than they should have been. They didn't belong with the rest of it.
Sebastian reached in and pulled a handful free.
The moment Vesemir saw them, his gaze sharpened slightly.
"Letters, and official documents..." he said. "And they don't look like new ones either. Some of those look crushed… but if they were kept in here with this lot of valuables, they're not just correspondence."
Seb nodded already unfolding the topmost one.
"This is quite the find," he murmured under his breath.
The parchment crackled softly as he smoothed it out against his knee. The ink was old but intact, the handwriting formal and elegant, nothing rushed about it.
Sebastian's eyes tracked the lines as he began to read aloud.
"By my hand, Count Wilfrid of Ard Carraigh and rightful steward of his own lands and holdings, I do hereby declare this document to be my final will and testament…"
He paused only to adjust the parchment, then continued in the same steady tone.
"Upon my passing, all titles, lands, estates, coin, and assets belonging to my name and house shall be transferred in full and without dispute to my lawful heir, my son, Albrecht Wilfrid."
Vesemir's brow lifted slightly, but he said nothing, letting Seb continue.
Sebastian's voice remained even while reading.
"Until such time as he becomes of age and is deemed fit to assume stewardship, the estate shall remain under trusted guardianship appointed by myself, to act solely in his interest and preserve the integrity of House Wilfrid."
He flicked his eyes briefly across the page, then went on.
"No claim, noble or otherwise, shall supersede the rights of my heir as declared herein. This will is to be considered binding under crown law and sealed in witness of my authority and intent."
At the bottom, he tilted it slightly.
A pressed wax seal. Clean and official.
Sebastian let the parchment lower a fraction.
"…It's a will," he said plainly.
He glanced back into the chest, then added, quieter:
"And it's old. Written long ago, I dare say before everything wrong started to happen here."
Vesemir grunted softly.
"So why is it here and crumpled like this.."
Sebastian shook his head faintly.
"I feel like even this has something to do with this specter situation."
He folded the parchment carefully, then tapped the stack of remaining letters with two fingers.
"What's strange is not the gold," he added. "It's this being buried with it."
Vesemir straightened slightly.
"And?"
Sebastian's gaze lingered on the chest for a moment longer.
"…He didn't mention having a son." His eyes flicked once toward where Elin lay unconscious beyond.
"It's a succession document… naming a son he never mentioned to us." Vesemir's voice came out low. "Or someone he didn't want anyone else to know about." he added.
Sebastian set the will aside and continued rifling through the stack of parchment. the earlier discovery had changed the weight of the entire chest in his mind, gold was just gold, but the paper is what carried actual value.
He separated a few of the documents, scanning their headers under his breath.
"Trade… transaction records… estate correspondence…"
Vesemir watched silently, arms loosely crossed as Seb worked.
Then Sebastian stopped, his fingers paused on one sheet that was folded tighter than the others, the edges slightly worn, as if it had been opened and re-read more often than the rest.
"…This one's different," he muttered.
Vesemir's eyes sharpened a fraction. "And?"
Sebastian unfolded it carefully.
"A personal letter."
He read the opening line first, then his expression changed in a subtle way,
He began reading aloud.
"Lord Wilfrid, I write to you in regard to your son, Albrecht, under my continued guardianship as agreed upon in our arrangement."
Seb paused briefly, then continued.
"The boy is in excellent condition. He is well-fed, properly educated, and wants for nothing within my care. I have ensured he remains unaware of any hardship, as per your instructions."
Vesemir's gaze narrowed slightly at the phrasing, and then he looked at the sleeping Elin but he said nothing.
Sebastian's tone stayed steady as he read on.
"However, I must once again remind you that discretion is not without cost. My silence regarding him, and the true nature of your request, is maintained strictly through continued compensation. If you wish for my continued cooperation, the agreed sum must be increased. The boy's care is not in question, but neither is the value of my silence."
He skimmed the next lines quickly, then slowed again.
"I will keep my end of the arrangement. Your secret remains secure with me, as it always has for years. But understand clearly, my silence is not charity. It is a dangerous service, and that kind of service requires lavish payment."
Sebastian stopped there.
A brief silence followed.
He flipped the parchment once more, scanning the bottom edge.
"…The rest is unreadable," he said finally, folding it back with slightly more force than before.
Vesemir exhaled slowly through his nose.
"So," he said quietly, "a son being raised in secret."
Sebastian placed the letter back among the others, his eyes lingering on the stack for a moment longer than necessary.
"…And someone getting paid very well to make sure knows."
He straightened slowly, gaze shifting toward the closed door of the room.
"Yeah," he said after a beat.
The tone was calm and firmer now.
"The Count needs to answer a few of our questions."
The door to the bedroom closed behind them with a quiet thud.
Sebastian and Vesemir stepped out into the corridor, they left the house, and in the inner garden path, there the Count was waiting.
He wasn't sitting this time.
He was pacing back and forth along the stone walkway beside the roses, hands clenched behind his back one moment, then dragging through his hair the next. His coat was slightly unkempt, as if he'd been standing there far too long without sitting once.
When he saw them emerge, he froze.
Then immediately rushed forward.
"Witchers! Tell me... what have you found? Is she worse? Is she possessed? Cursed? Please I need to know.. Can it be driven out if she is possessed? Can she be cured? I've tried every healer in Kaedwen and.."
His words piled on top of each other, breath quickening as he spoke, panic bleeding into every sentence. Sebastian raised a hand sharply.
"Woah. Calm down!"
The Count stopped mid-step, blinking as if only now realizing how close he'd come.
He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to calm down.
"Right… my apologies. I.. yes. Of course."
Sebastian studied him for a moment, then spoke again,
"One thing is certain. Your wife is not sick from natural causes. There is a specter involved. Something feeding on her, or tied to her condition."
The Count's face tightened slightly, but he nodded quickly.
"We already suspected as much, a Curse.."
Seb cut him off, his tone sharpening just a fraction.
"We can't identify what kind yet. Not without more answers."
Then Sebastian's gaze locked onto him more directly.
"And those answers… only you can give."
The Count frowned slightly, confused by Seb's words.
"I've already told you everything I know. I swear it. I have no reason to lie to you now."
Sebastian didn't blink.
"That's not entirely true."
Vesemir, standing just behind him, didn't speak, but his expression had already changed, he was listening very carefully now.
Sebastian continued.
"When we entered this estate, even the guards were unaware of certain important details. According to them, only you, your wife, and a handful of servants reside here."
He paused.
"…Yet we found something that doesn't match that."
The Count's brow furrowed.
"What are you talking about?"
Sebastian's eyes narrowed slightly.
"A letter."
That alone made the Count freeze.
Sebastian watched him closely as he spoke.
"A personal one, referring to your son. Albrecht Wilfrid."
The Count's expression didn't just change, it collapsed slightly, as if something behind it had finally been pulled loose after being held too tightly for too long, his mouth opened, then closed again.
His eyes flicked away.
"…Oh that," he said quietly.
Neither Witcher interrupted.
The Count's shoulders dropped a fraction.
"I see…" he muttered, more to himself than to them. "I have no more use to hide it anymore, I suppose. It is pointless after what has happened to him and what has happened here."
Sebastian and Vesemir exchanged a brief glance.
The Count exhaled shakily, then finally looked back at them.
"…I'll tell you everything."
/-\
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