Chương 63: Nobles in Distress

Lira had discovered something deeply unfortunate now that the nobility had begun returning to the capital in greater numbers. Nobles were far more exhausting than she had expected; one arrogant aristocrat could be tolerated, or at least strategically avoided. A building full of them, however, created entirely new problems, most of which Lira had never anticipated when she first decided to claim a quiet, abandoned library.

She was currently seated behind her front desk with an absurdly oversized volume on estate law. The tome was nearly the size of her torso and tall enough that, when propped upright on the desk, it served as a privacy curtain. To any passing observer, it likely looked as though the library caretaker was diligently studying some obscure legal text. In reality, Lira was hiding behind it while listening to the drama unfolding nearby.

Just beyond her desk, near one of the decorative windows overlooking the palace gardens, a young nobleman and noblewoman were in the midst of a romantic confrontation of catastrophic proportions. Neither of them seemed remotely aware they were in a public library.

"You knew this day would come," the young man declared, one hand pressed dramatically to his chest as if physically wounded by the conversation. The noblewoman facing him stood rigid with indignation. Her eyes shimmered suspiciously with unshed tears, and when she finally spoke, her tone carried the righteous fury of a betrayed heroine.

"That does not make it any less insulting," she replied, her voice tight with emotion.

"You speak of inevitability as though that absolves you." Lira slowly lowered the giant book by perhaps two centimeters, curiosity temporarily overcoming her caution. Against her better judgment, she was becoming invested.

"My father ordered the engagement," the young man continued.

"What would you have me do? Defy him?"

"Yes," the woman answered immediately, without even a fraction of hesitation. Lira had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from making a sound. The nobleman visibly recoiled, looking genuinely stricken by the answer.

"You ask the impossible."

"And you act the coward." The woman turned away sharply enough that her skirts flared with enough force to threaten nearby furniture. She placed a hand dramatically against her forehead and drew in a shaky breath.

"I rejected Lord Fenris for you," she said.

"And then Lord Caldar. Twice."

"I never asked that of you." The noblewoman laughed once, a short, brittle sound entirely devoid of humor.

"No," she said, her eyes finally spilling over with tears.

"You merely allowed it." Lira stared. Good heavens… this was better than theatre. Had nobles always been like this, or was this specific generation particularly unstable? I suppose when one does not have to labor for wages, that frees up considerable time to make fools of oneself. The woman suddenly inhaled sharply.

"Go then. Marry her. There is nothing left between us to discuss." She turned on her heel and began marching toward the exit with offended dignity.

"Wait!" he called.

"Esmeralda!" The library doors slammed shut behind them. Silence settled over the room so abruptly that it felt artificial. Lira sighed and slowly lowered the book. She opened her journal instead, where she had been working on theories for ink-based spells, specifically something capable of transcribing sound. She had approximately ten seconds of peace before the doors opened again. Lira almost let out a groan and immediately raised the large volume once more, covering her irritated expression.

Another noble pair entered. This time, they were older, perhaps in their late twenties, and carried the exhausted aura of a long-married couple who had thoroughly worn down each other's patience. They marched directly toward the seating area near the geography shelves, looking very much like they were continuing an argument already well in progress. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. The woman rounded on the man almost immediately.

"How much?" Her voice was quiet, which somehow made her feel significantly more dangerous.

"What?" said the man, visibly withering under the question.

"How. Much. Money. Did. You. Lose. Gambling?" she repeated, enunciating every word with precision.

"It was a minor setback."

"The number, Friedric." He shifted uncomfortably.

"…Three gold." Lira nearly dropped the legal tome. Three gold! Three entire gold coins. Who casually loses three gold coins? What in the heavens is wrong with you, Friedric? I have watched people die on the streets for copper, and this man is casually calling three gold a minor setback. The woman closed her eyes and pressed two fingers against the bridge of her nose.

"Do you understand," she asked with terrifying calm, "that you have now lost more money this month than the estate my father gifted us can generate?"

"In my defense, it was a strong hand." Lira stared at the ceiling.

"You would have nothing if you had not married me," the woman snapped.

"You would not even be welcome in society if not for me. How dare you?"

"Do not speak to me like that, woman."

"You were a baron's third son," she hissed.

"I made you, and I can end you. Stop posturing, and stop ruining our children's future, or I swear to the goddess, next year I will be a widow managing the estate alone. You have been warned." The man looked genuinely intimidated. Lira suddenly wished very badly for an invisibility spell. Since that was currently unavailable, she did the next best thing and hunched lower behind the giant book until both of them eventually left.

She could not help noticing that neither pair had touched a single book, nor had any of the nobles who showed up yesterday or the day before. At this point, she was beginning to suspect nobles did not actually understand what libraries were for. Or perhaps this was somehow Steward Dalwin's doing. There was simply no way these couples kept appearing here by coincidence. Honestly, she missed when the library was full of dust. Dust, at the very least, belonged in a library far more than these nobles did.

So when the next couple appeared, and they immediately began exchanging loud confessions of love and promises of eternal happiness, Lira slowly stood up, abandoned her desk, and left the library to them. Lira walked through the outer courtyard while considering what to do next. Her first thought was to head toward the kitchens and help Old Marga while listening to whatever gossip was circulating among the staff, but then she shook her head.

With the enchanted bookmarks now hiding her magic use, she could afford to act far more boldly than before. As she wandered, she passed a sharply dressed man, and her heart nearly skipped a beat. For one alarming second, she thought he was Lord Kenth Kelroth, the man who caused her father's death, only to realize that wasn't him, Still, that brief moment was enough to drag her back in time. It took her a second, but she started breathing again as the memory of the execution slowly receded.

The man was not him; he was far too young to be him. He was just wearing the same coat. Rather than letting herself spiral, Lira decided to do something productive about it. She whispered, "Ladar. Linasara. Oshkan. Cognar. Turat." Her awareness expanded as the divination spell took hold, feeding her a vague sense of nearby books. She narrowed her focus to books about her nemesis, and a large pull immediately tugged backward toward the library, which was unsurprising.

There were enough genealogy records and historical volumes there to fill an entire shelf with references to the Kelroths' family, and Lira had already read through them multiple times. Another substantial pull led toward the bookkeeping tower. That made her pause. Naturally, Harwin would have access to extensive financial records on the kingdom's nobility. If anyone maintained documents useful to investigating the Kelroths, it would be him.

The problem was that Lira was now just frightened enough of Harwin to avoid voluntarily walking into his domain without preparation. She would probably do it once she was certain he was away on one of his travels. That left a handful of weaker pings scattered throughout the palace grounds. So Lira followed the nearest one. It led her to Friedric, the same unfortunate noble whose wife had just threatened to murder him in the library not ten minutes earlier.

He was seated alone on a stone bench in the gardens, elbows on his knees and one hand covering his face. It looked like his life choices had finally caught up with him. Inside his jacket pocket, Lira sensed the faint resonance of a small notebook. Fortunately, she did not need physical contact to access a book's contents, only its general location.

"Pika. Linasara. Cognar. Coopar. Nagla." Information flooded her mind. It was not exactly a book, more of a personal debt ledger. Names, dates, amounts owed, and repayment arrangements were all listed in surprisingly neat handwriting. Lira's eyes widened slightly. Among the listed debts was a note showing that Lord Kenth Kelroth had purchased several of Friedric's outstanding obligations.

What had once been multiple smaller debts owed to various lenders had apparently been consolidated into a single debt to Kenth Kelroth. Total amount owed: forty-seven gold coins. Lira nearly choked. Forty-seven? How does one even manage to owe forty-seven gold coins? More importantly, the notes suggested Friedric was pleased with the arrangement. Lord Kelroth apparently charged far less interest than either the Official Bank or the Temple of Viznar, god of trade. That was… suspiciously generous. Lira frowned.

She left Friedric to his silent life crisis and followed another divination ping. This one led her toward a sharply dressed noble walking through one of the inner courtyards. Once again, the target item was a personal journal or debt record. Once again, after absorbing its contents, Lira found evidence of debt restructuring. This noble originally had a few debtors who owed money to him.

Lord Kelroth had bought all of those debts, often paying amounts that seemed strangely more favorable than what the original credits were worth. Lira followed a third ping, then a fourth. In every case, Lord Kenth Kelroth was quietly purchasing obligations from nobles all across the kingdom. Lira's heartbeat quickened as the implications began assembling themselves in her mind. The man was consolidating every debt under himself, ignoring the absurd amount of money involved, far more than a single noble should have.

Lira doubted it was for any charitable reason. She had now found two money schemes, one involving the staff and another involving the nobility, and Lira somehow doubted that the two were unrelated.