"Alright. Speak."
Heinz’s voice cut through the silence the mont Florian and Cashew left.
He had been watching. The whole ti, he could tell—Lancelot and Lucius had sothing to say, sothing they wouldn’t dare bring up in front of Florian.
Yet, now that the room was emptied, they hesitated.
That alone was unusual.
They were both blunt, always. Even with their mutual disdain for each other, they shared that trait. If sothing was on their minds, they said it.
The only thing they ever hesitated to speak about was—
’Florian.’
Heinz sighed, rubbing his temple before looking at them expectantly.
"It’s about Florian, isn’t it?"
Lucius was the first to move, stepping forward as he removed his glasses. His golden eyes, usually impassive behind the lenses, glead faintly under the candlelight.
"It’s... Cashew, Your Majesty."
Lancelot, who had remained still up until now, furrowed his brows and took a step forward as well. "Wait, you too?" He shot Lucius a skeptical glance before turning back to Heinz. "I was already planning to bring up so concerns about the kid."
Heinz rested a hand on his desk, absentmindedly twisting a lock of his long black hair around his fingers as he stared at them. "Lucius, tell . What’s your problem with the boy?"
Lucius hesitated—just for a fraction of a second—before he spoke. "While making my usual rounds earlier, I ran into Cashew standing in front of His Highness’ door."
Heinz tilted his head slightly, signaling for him to continue.
"Cashew is usually shy and reserved," Lucius said slowly. "He’s never been the type to complain or step out of line. He follows instructions without question, and the other servants dote on him."
’However...?’
"However," Lucius sighed, "His Highness told last night that they had an argunt. He asked to check on Cashew, so I did. And when I spoke to him... I saw sothing I’ve never seen before."
Heinz’s fingers stilled against his hair. "And that was?"
"Anger. Suspicion. Worry. Grief." Lucius listed the emotions carefully, his tone quieter than before.
Lancelot’s expression tightened at that. "Grief?"
Lucius nodded. "And when he looked at you, Your Majesty..." His voice turned colder. "He had hatred in his eyes."
A tense pause.
"Hatred?" Lancelot echoed, disbelief flickering across his face. "For His Majesty?"
Lucius gave a single, firm nod.
"That makes no sense," Lancelot said, arms crossing over his chest. "Why would Cashew hate His Majesty? And all of a sudden, at that?"
"I don’t know," Lucius admitted. "But what I do know is that his negative emotions disappeared the mont His Highness spoke to him. Or, at the very least, if His Highness was looking."
His words were careful, asured—as if he was trying not to trigger Heinz.
’It’s because he’s Florian’s servant.’
Heinz thought to himself, exhaling slowly through his nose. He then turned his attention to Lancelot.
"And you?"
Lancelot blinked, caught slightly off guard. "Oh—uh, earlier..." He scratched the back of his head, looking almost sheepish. "At first, I thought Julius was a strange choice to get close to His Highness. After all, all he did was serve him a drink. I figured Cashew would’ve been a more logical choice."
Heinz remained silent, waiting.
Lancelot let out a small huff before continuing. "But then I ran into the princesses. Princess Athena ntioned that she went to His Highness’ room earlier to speak with him, but when she got there, Cashew was just... standing in front of the door. Staring at it. Exactly like how Lucius described."
A pause.
"I started thinking—what if there’s a possibility that Cashew is the traitor?"
Heinz arched a brow. "Just because he was standing in front of a door?"
Lancelot shook his head. "Cashew... we know almost nothing about him. Only that he ca from an orphanage. And as Lucius pointed out, His Highness himself was concerned by Cashew’s sudden change in attitude. That shift happened right when everything went down."
His voice lowered slightly. "That’s not a coincidence."
Heinz leaned back against his chair, tapping a finger against the polished wood of his desk. "I know he’s acting strange," he murmured. "He’s been glaring at since last night. He isn’t even making an effort to hide it."
Both Lancelot and Lucius stiffened slightly at that revelation.
"Pardon?" Lancelot’s eyes narrowed. "Then... why let him co here? If he is the traitor, he now knows our plans."
"Shouldn’t we interrogate him?" Lancelot asked.
Heinz let out a short, humorless chuckle. "And how exactly do you plan to explain to Florian that you want to interrogate that boy?"
Lancelot opened his mouth—
Then closed it.
"Oh."
Heinz exhaled through his nose, schooling his expression into sothing unreadable.
"Either way, I made him co on purpose."
Lancelot frowned. "What?"
"I wanted to see if he’d leak our plans," Heinz said, voice steady, calculated.
Lucius studied him for a mont, then adjusted his glasses. "And if he does, Your Majesty?"
Heinz smirked, though there was no amusent behind it. "Then we’ll know exactly where his loyalties lie."
Silence settled between them. It was heavy, laced with sothing unspoken.
Lancelot clicked his tongue, arms crossing. "So, this whole thing about saving the villages—"
"Is just a convenient solution," Heinz finished smoothly. "A way to make sure no one else joins the rogues. The real objective is sniffing them out—figuring out who the fuck this so-called Savior is, and how he got in and out of my palace without a trace."
Lucius exhaled sharply. "And, of course, there’s still the possibility that the traitor is already inside the palace."
"Obviously." Heinz’s fingers tapped against the desk in a steady rhythm. "Cashew could be that traitor."
The boy had changed. Subtly, but noticeably.
The defiance, the quiet hostility that hadn’t been there before... It wasn’t just suspicion. It was sothing deeper. More personal.
Hatred.
And Heinz had seen that look before.
’He had seen it from that servant, back then. The way he glared at with nothing but contempt after Florian’s execution.’
Heinz’s grip on the desk tightened. His jaw clenched, but he forced his breathing to remain even.
’Could Cashew truly have mories from the first life? Does he really rember?’
That mont. That execution.
’No—if he did, why only now?’
The timing was too convenient.
And if the rogues had truly planted Cashew from the very beginning, then his hatred wouldn’t have taken this long to surface. It felt too sudden. Too erratic.
’He could just be a pawn. But that would an the one who killed had the ability to show people the past.’
That made things both easier and more complicated.
’Then the question is...’
"How do we get him away from Florian?" Heinz muttered, almost absently.
Lucius and Lancelot exchanged glances. Neither spoke imdiately. After all, Florian was both naive and smart. He was naive when it ca to himself, but sharp when it ca to others.
If they investigated and watched Cashew’s behavior too closely, Florian would imdiately notice. And worst-case scenario? Florian gets mad.
And that’s when Heinz realized—
’Why do I care if he gets mad?’
Heinz furrowed his brows. He let Florian off easily when he got mad because his anger was amusing. But why should he go as far as caring if Florian got mad?
No.
He didn’t care at all.
Not at all.
"Your Majesty?" Lucius called out carefully, snapping Heinz from his thoughts.
"Yes?"
"We don’t necessarily have to get him away from His Highness. I believe... Cashew cares about His Highness a lot. That part is not a lie, so there’s a possibility that I’ve also been thinking about..."
"And that is?"
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