Chapter 72

Elwin strode away without granting Dwight a second glance. His mind whirled with a singular, pressing question: how was he to reclaim the seal and the estate deed? When they ascended to the first floor, Elwin carefully broached the matter with the constable who had guided them.

“I apologize for being a persistent nuisance, but is the chief constable perhaps present? I would very much like to speak with him directly.”

The moment Elwin uttered the title, Leon visibly flinched. The constable tilted his head, his expression guarded.

“The chief constable is currently at headquarters filing a regular report. What business do you have with him?”

At the response, relief washed over Leon, though Elwin only felt a heavy shroud of doubt. With the man in charge absent, the likelihood of his request being honored grew slim, yet he had no other recourse.

“I understand that the seal and the estate deed stolen from my home were confiscated from the man currently detained below. They are my family heirlooms, and I am here to request their return.”

Was it an unreasonable demand? As expected, the constable shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting away. “I am afraid that is not a decision we can make on our own authority.”

“…Would it be impossible to release them?”

“Because they were seized as evidence, disposing of them without a court order could lead to significant complications.”

How could this be happening after he had endured so much to reach this point? Tears threatened to cloud his vision, but Elwin forced them back, bracing his spirit to seek another path.

“If a court order is required, is there no way for me to petition the court for their return directly?”

Perhaps moved by pity, the constable consulted his colleagues before offering a final, tentative solution.

“There is no established protocol for such a request, but a preliminary hearing will be held shortly to determine whether the suspect remains in custody. It is a public session, my lord, so you should be able to attend.”

Elwin’s attention sharpened instantly. If he could confront the magistrate, he would seize the opportunity to petition for his property.

“Thank you. I shall find a way.”

“Since you are already here, would you be willing to provide a statement regarding the day of the incident? We have the investigative record from the Ravenwell constabulary, but it would be invaluable to have the victim’s own account.”

“Of course. I will tell you everything I know.”

Elwin retreated to an interview room and spent a significant amount of time detailing the theft and assault. The urgency of his account kept the questioning constable deeply rapt throughout the deposition.

“I pursued Mr. Dwight on horseback to Ravenwell Station, though I ultimately failed to catch the train to the capital. The following morning, I boarded a connecting train, but certain… complications delayed my journey, which is why I only arrived in the capital today.”

Elwin provided an unvarnished account of his journey, carefully obscuring the true reason for their multi-day delay in the transfer city. At Elwin’s palpable discomfort, Leon, standing in the shadows behind him, cleared his throat with a series of rhythmic, muffled coughs. Hm. Hm.

When the interview concluded, the constables expressed their gratitude for his cooperation. Once the formalities were satisfied, a wave of profound exhaustion crested over Elwin. It was only fitting, given the turbulence of the day.

“Let us return to the inn. I find I must rest.”

Believing that the day’s chaos had finally subsided, Elwin offered Leon a weary, wan smile. Once again, his optimism failed him entirely. The moment they stepped out of the constabulary, a man stood at the base of the stairs as if he had been anticipating their arrival. He clutched a notebook and an ink-stained pen, a gleaming press badge pinned to his coat.

Is he a reporter?

As Elwin startled, the reporter mirrored his shock, his eyes widening as he scrambled toward them. “I am with The Crown Herald—no, wait a moment. You are—!”

Given the recent events in the capital, Elwin realized the reporter had recognized him. At the man’s appalled shout, bystanders turned to stare. As Elwin stiffened, realizing the entire street was swarming with journalists, Leon drew him close, shielding him with a protective arm.

“Elwin, this way.”

A hired carriage had just pulled up to the curb. They dove inside, the heavy door slamming shut as the press surged forward like a starving pack. “To the inn on Twenty-Seventh Street. Please, hurry.”

At Leon’s command, the horses lunged forward, leaving the reporters in the dust. Even as they receded, the journalists craned their necks, desperate to catch a glimpse through the carriage window. Elwin, dazed and trembling, smoothed a hand over his chest.

“Those were all reporters, weren’t they? How did they know to wait for us?”

“It is said the tragic tale of Young Master Elwin has become the talk of the capital.”

Elwin’s temples throbbed. The press was a nuisance, but the situation at large was suffocating. He had hoped finding Dwight would provide a resolution, yet his future remained as treacherous as ever. A sharp sigh escaped him.

“What will happen at the hearing? What if I never recover the deed?”

He caught himself, lowering his voice out of consideration for Leon. After witnessing Leon’s desperate attempts to hide his face, Elwin was convinced that Leon’s past was dangerous. If he allowed Leon to see his fear, Leon might resort to the dark arts to intervene. That, he could not permit. Elwin straightened his posture, forcing a mantle of pride over his shoulders.

“Do not worry. My resolve to take responsibility for you, Mr. Leon, remains absolute. I will manage this; you need not be concerned.”

In truth, the situation had improved significantly since Dwight’s apprehension. Dale, the finance manager, had retrieved the authentic head-of-household seal from Savar. Although the constabulary retained custody of the deed, the immediate threat of the estate being parceled out and liquidated had vanished.

At Elwin’s bold declaration, Leon’s expression softened into one of genuine satisfaction. The moment was fleeting, however, as his gaze soon drifted, settling into a contemplative stillness. His voice, dropped to a low, resonant frequency, carried words that escaped Elwin’s full comprehension.

“Yes. You are a man who consistently strives to elevate your life through your own resolve. I speak with total sincerity when I say that I deeply admire and respect that trait in you.”

Elwin stood paralyzed by the sudden intimacy of the sentiment. As he hesitated, searching for an appropriate response, Leon leaned in with a gaze that held far greater weight.

“Elwin. Did you truly mean it when you claimed that, regardless of my nature or the circumstances of my past, you would find it acceptable?”

Elwin’s conviction was absolute. He adjusted his glasses, composing his features into the most earnest and trustworthy expression he could muster.

“Of course I did.”

An atmosphere both sweet and stifling, thick with an unspoken comfort, blossomed between them. Just as Elwin flirted with the notion that this might be the opportune moment to propose, Leon abandoned his somber demeanor and returned to his habitual, playful smile.

“You have given your word, and you can no longer retract it. You realize that, do you not?”

Leon’s words stirred a flicker of unease in Elwin’s chest, yet he nodded in quiet agreement. He wondered to himself just how entrenched in a criminal syndicate Leon truly was to speak with such dangerous confidence. His own internal delusions regarding the man only deepened.

Despite the exhaustion of the night, sleep remained elusive. The cause was not the unfamiliarity of the inn; the innkeeper, desperate to provide exceptional service to the young lord he recognized from the newspapers, had prepared a bed as plush and comforting as any in Elwin’s own manor. The culprit was the relentless churn of his own mind. The day’s overwhelming encounters and revelations replayed in a continuous loop, coupled with a gnawing, insatiable curiosity regarding Leon’s true identity.

And then there was the silence. After sharing a bed with Leon for several days, the sensation of lying alone felt hollow and profound.

Unable to find rest, Elwin descended to the dining room the following morning, his features drawn with fatigue. The room was teeming with life, far more crowded than it had been the previous day. Local residents and travelers alike were huddled in clusters, their attention riveted to the morning newspapers.

Upon spotting Elwin, the crowd surged forward in a flurry of excitement, thrusting the newsprint toward him.

“Young Master! Tell us, does this make any sense? You went to reclaim your stolen property, and they simply refused to hand it over?”

“The entire world knows that the seal and deed belong to the Ravenwell family! Why on earth would a court judgment even be necessary? Are those constables not acting with excessive arrogance?”

Reporters had clearly been monitoring the constabulary, resulting in these articles. Elwin had departed the scene in total silence, and it remained a mystery how they had gleaned such intimate details of the conflict.

“If that is the law, what recourse remains? The constable was merely acting according to his regulations, and I cannot fault him for doing his job.”

Elwin’s answer was intended only as a calm statement of fact, yet to the townspeople, his restraint appeared as fragile and sorrowful as a single flower shivering in a gale. Perhaps his stoicism touched them all the more deeply, for they began to voice their indignation with renewed fervor.

“No, that is wrong! The law must be fundamentally fair. When one stops to consider it, what possible justification exists for prohibiting an Omega from inheriting?”

“Exactly! If the title were not forced to a branch family while the rightful heir is alive and well, this farce would never have occurred.”

“It is true. The legislation itself is flawed, and our young master is the only one left to pay the price. It is nothing short of an injustice.”

It was a startling spectacle. Beta men from the city, individuals who had likely never spared a thought for the rights of Omegas, were now standing with veins bulging in their necks as they fiercely defended Elwin’s cause.

For a man like Elwin—who had been barred from public school and denied entry to the university solely due to his status as an Omega, and who now stood on the precipice of losing his home and legacy—the sudden public support was disorienting. He felt both profound gratitude and a sense of bewilderment. Simultaneously, he found the fervor difficult to navigate, as it reignited grievances he had already resigned himself to endure. Even now, in the shadowed corners of his heart, a sudden, frantic impulse surged—a desire to step forward and roar, “Yes! Reform is required!”

No. This is not the time to ignite that debate.

Elwin had barely managed to regain his composure when the door to the dining room swung open. Another local dashed inside, breathless with fresh news. The resulting cacophony of debate grew even more heated. Some residents attempted to predict the court’s impending ruling, while others offered premature praise or scathing criticism of the magistrate.

More burdens pressed into Elwin’s already heavy mind. It seemed he would need to meticulously study his legal defense to ensure the return of his confiscated assets.

As he began to mentally catalogue the necessary arguments, a hand tapped his shoulder.

“What are you contemplating with such grave intensity? You must eat something first.”

It was Leon, who had emerged for the morning wearing his signature eyepatch. The simple act of seeing his face served to melt the tension in Elwin’s heart, and he offered a soft, genuine smile in response.