Before they could reach their own rooms, someone stopped them midway.
"Young master, where in the world were you all this time? I have been looking for you."
The words sounded worried, but the voice carried no real desperation.
"Nanny..."
She was Theodore's nanny, the one who had raised him alongside his parents.
Emma.
She was the eldest daughter of a fallen noble family, who had somehow managed to secure this position. However, after she was appointed as Theodore's nanny, she grew more arrogant as time passed.
'Nanny, huh?'
Her dark attire rustled faintly as she glared down at Theodore. There was something distasteful in the way she looked at him, not with concern, but with reprimand, as though he had broken some sacred rule.
Her hair was tightly pinned, her gaze honed like a blade. A nanny by her role, but more than that, a woman convinced of her own authority.
The way she spoke grated on Arthur's nerves, each word laced with an arrogance that was hard to stomach.
'Why, in all reason, did the young heir of the Granville family need to justify himself within the walls of his own home?'
"I couldn't sleep, so I went to the library. And, by chance, met my brother."
The woman's lips pressed into a thin, pale line before she spoke again, as though teaching a child how to behave with strangers.
"Young master, you mustn't address Lord Ashbourne as 'Brother.' He is the acting head of House Ashbourne. You should refer to him with proper respect."
She glanced down the hall, as if to ensure no one else was listening, then added in a lowered voice:
"It would not be wise if someone overheard."
'Hah! What a load of crap.'
She was trying to teach politics to a child, masking cruelty beneath the guise of etiquette.
"But... Brother didn't mind me addressing him as such…"
There was a tremor in his voice, a faint hint of confusion.
"Young master! Didn't I just tell you not to address Lord Ashbourne as 'Brother'? You are not a little boy anymore. You must behave properly."
Arthur's gaze narrowed slightly at her sheer audacity.
'What tone was that to take with a child, and with the only heir, no less? What kind of twisted pride made her believe she had the right to speak so harshly, as if he were a servant caught in some grave transgression?'
The woman sighed, as if Theodore's very presence exhausted her. Her voice carried exasperation as she continued:
"Young master, why are you behaving like an immature child today? Is it because it's your first time meeting your step-brother?"
"Na-nanny, that's..."
'Haa... this woman is really getting on my nerves.'
"That's enough."
Arthur took a step forward, placing himself between her and Theodore, shielding him from the sharp edge of her disdain. He spoke with restrained fury.
"A mere nanny dares to lecture the heir of the Granville household, the only heir, no less? It makes me question the authority of House Granville. Or perhaps it's you who have forgotten your place."
Arthur continued, his tone flat as the rain tapping insistently against the glass.
"Woman, conduct yourself properly, unless you want me to take this matter to my mother."
At his words, the color drained instantly from her face.
"Lord Ashbourne, you can't threaten me in this household—"
Arthur gave her a smile devoid of warmth.
"Oh, really? Then let us go to my mother. Right now. Let's see whose words she values more, mine or yours."
Her breath hitched.
She must've assumed Arthur wouldn't involve his mother, counting on the distance between them to gain the upper hand. She had been trying to exploit that gap.
But the moment he hinted that he could, in fact, bring his mother into the matter, and she sensed even the faintest chance that his mother might take his side, her entire demeanor shifted.
"It seems I have made a mistake. My apologies, Lord Ashbourne. I will be more careful going forward. I would appreciate it if you could pardon my behavior just this once."
"There should never be a second time. You understand? Do not question my authority in this household ever again. For I am also my mother's own blood. Don't delude yourself into thinking she'd take your side over mine."
Her hands trembled at her sides as she bowed her head slightly.
"I... I understand."
Arthur turned back to Theodore. He still held the book tightly against his chest, his expression clouded with uncertainty, as if trying to make sense of what had just unfolded.
The nanny, eager to regain composure, softened her tone as she addressed him.
"Young master, let's go to your room. It has gotten quite late. You should sleep now."
Arthur lowered himself to Theodore's eye level, softening his voice.
"Theo, go with your nanny for now and head to your room. It's getting quite late."
He looked at Arthur, disappointment flickering in his gaze.
'It seems he wanted to spend more time with me, but alas...'
"Don't worry about your father and sleep comfortably. Also, we'll spend some time together tomorrow, alright?"
He looked at Arthur with his doe-like eyes, then nodded.
"I understand. Good night, Brother."
"Good night, Theo."
Arthur watched as he walked away. The nanny followed a step behind, her posture subdued, her presence diminished.
Only when the echo of their steps faded into silence did he release the breath he had been holding, letting the tightness in his chest dissolve into the hush of rain beyond the windowpanes.
Just then, another shadow came into view.
"Young master, I had been waiting for you."
His light chestnut hair caught the moonlight.
'Alfred...? Ah, it seems he managed to get in just fine.'
"What is it, Alfred?"
His sharp peridot eyes held very little emotion as he spoke up.
"I have investigated the organization, and I also have to inform you about some other matters."
'It sure took him a long while to get the information, didn't it?'
"Hmm... I see. Let's discuss this matter tomorrow, if it isn't that urgent."
"Yes, young master."
"Also, take these with yourself and place them in my room."
Arthur handed him the book that Theodore had recommended, along with the lantern.
"I understand."
He accepted them without any question and left the corridor just as silently as he had arrived.
'Tch. Why is it that hard to fall asleep?'
Arthur's gaze fell down to the first floor, where the head butler of House Granville stood, probably still waiting for his master to arrive.
'Hmm. Perhaps I should have a cup of honeyed milk like Detective Kim often gave me before bed in my previous life.'
Arthur descended the grand staircase. However, he soon froze mid-step, his fingers tightening instinctively around the banister.
A figure stepped inside the manor, the storm murmuring at his back.
'It appears he has finally arrived.'
Benjamin Granville.
He stepped inside with the quiet grace of someone long accustomed to moving through power-laden spaces. His aide moved beside him like a shadow, folding the umbrella slowly.
The butler took the Marquess's coat with a silent bow and stepped back at once. He then loosened the cravat at his throat, exhaling as if shaking off the weight of the day he carried on his shoulders.
His gaze flickered upward to the stairs and met with Arthur's.
"Huh...?"
His eyes, a piercing sapphire, regarded Arthur not with surprise, but with thoughtful calculation, as though he had already accounted for his presence and was now quietly assessing the variables he introduced.
"What brings you here, Lord Ashbourne?"
His ash-blonde hair fell neatly across his brow, his features refined and gentle, almost disarmingly so. There was a softness to him, one that invited trust, but Arthur had learned early on that appearances in this world were carefully tailored lies.
And Benjamin Granville was no exception.
"My mother had invited me for a brief visit, and so I arrived today. I assumed she would have informed you, didn't she?"
At Arthur's words, the lines of his expression shifted, melting into something vaguely regretful.
"Ah, yes. She did mention it. But I must have been too preoccupied to remember."
"I see."
There was a brief silence before his gaze sharpened again.
"But where are you headed at this late hour?"
Arthur hesitated for a moment.
After all, he couldn't possibly say that he was going down for a warm cup of honeyed milk like some restless child. The mere thought that the young acting head of House Ashbourne drank milk before bed was quite laughable, if not deeply humiliating.
No. That image had no place here.
"I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd have a drink. Therefore, I was on my way to ask the butler for a bottle of liquor."
"Hmm. Were you planning to drink alone?"
Arthur raised a brow, answering without pause.
"Of course. Who else would I drink with?"
For the briefest moment, a strange expression crossed the Marquess's face. It was something caught between nostalgia and melancholy.
"You really do take after your father, don't you...?"
Arthur frowned.
"...Pardon?"
The Marquess waved a hand lightly, the corner of his mouth quirking.
"Never mind it. Let me join you. You won't mind, will you?"
"Not at all."
He looked away from Arthur and shifted his gaze toward his aide, referring to him.
"Cedric, show Lord Ashbourne way to my study and also bring a bottle of the old whiskey."
The aide bowed with quiet efficiency.
"Yes, master."
The Marquess turned to Arthur once more.
"Lord Ashbourne, I'll join you shortly after I have freshened up."
"I understand."
With that, he ascended the staircase, his steps soundless against the polished wood, while Cedric gestured for Arthur to follow him.
"Let us head to the study."
Arthur gave a small nod and followed him.
The corridors stretched before them like the spine of some sleeping beast, the night silent save for the faint hush of rain still whispering against the manor's windows.