My Bratty Wife
Chapter 40 - Forty

Chapter 40: Chapter Forty

Sunlight streamed through the high windows of Ryan’s study, casting a warm glow on the carefully organized papers spread across his desk. He carefully scanned the guest list and the ball account Suzy had presented the previous night. A grudging admiration tugged at the edges of his stoicism. Suzy, despite her stubbornness and annoying attitude, had carefully planned the event. The guest list was complete, the finances in order, and a clear vision for the decorations and entertainment was outlined.

"Impressive," he murmured to himself, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. He hadn’t expected such thoroughness, especially in his absence. Perhaps, his harsh judgments about Suzy needed some... revision.

Just then, a soft knock on the door interrupted his train of thought. "Enter," he called out curtly.

The door creaked open, and Davis entered the room. He held a small silver tray, on which rested two sealed letters.

"Two letters for you, Your Grace," Davis announced, his voice a low rumble.

Ryan set down the guest list and extended a hand. Davis placed the tray carefully on the desk, and Ryan picked up the letters. One bore the familiar royal crest, the official seal of the King himself. The other, considerably plainer, held a single, bold initial – "E."

A frown creased Ryan’s brow as he recognized the second letter. It had been arriving for months now, always with the same initial, always addressed to him. He had a habit of stockpiling them in a drawer, a nagging curiosity warring with his apprehension.

He glanced at Davis, a question forming in his eyes. Davis, as if anticipating his inquiry, spoke first.

"The King’s letter arrived this morning, Your Grace," he explained. "The other... came yesterday although it has been delivered consistently over the past few months."

"Yes," Ryan acknowledged, his voice laced with a hint of annoyance. "I’m aware, Davis. You can dispose of the one with the initial. It’s obviously unimportant. In fact," he continued, his voice hardening, "tell the servants not to deliver any more letters with that initial.

Davis hesitated, his brow furrowed slightly. "As you wish, Your Grace" he replied, his tone respectful but firm. "However," he continued, barely a whisper, "might I suggest..."

Ryan cut him off with a sharp gesture. "No suggestions are necessary, Davis. Just do as I say."

Davis bowed his head slightly, a flicker of concern in his eyes. He knew Ryan’s stubborn streak, and saying anything further would be a futile exercise. He retrieved the unwanted letter and exited the study, leaving Ryan alone with the King’s letter.

Ryan carefully broke the King’s seal, a sense of anticipation building within him. As he unfurled the parchment, the crisp, formal script revealed its contents:

"To Grand Duke Ryan of Carleton,

Greetings. I, your King, by the Grace of the Divine and the will of the people, do hereby summon you to the Royal Palace with utmost haste. Your presence is required to report on the progress of your investigation into the recent disturbances plaguing our court.

We are particularly interested in learning of any new developments that may shed light on these most troubling events. It is imperative that the perpetrators of such acts of villainy be brought to swift and decisive justice.

Furthermore, it has come to our attention that your wife, the Duchess Cassandra, may possess insights valuable to this inquiry. We extend a cordial invitation for her to accompany you to the palace. Her presence, and any relevant observations she may share, would be most welcome.

We await your arrival with all due haste. A royal carriage shall be dispatched to your residence on the day after tomorrow. See to it that you and your wife are prepared for the journey.

May the Divine guide your steps and grant you wisdom in your endeavors.

Signed,

King Albert II, King of Calonia"

Ryan slammed the letter down on his desk, frustration gnawing at him. "My wife?" he muttered, his voice laced with annoyance. The King’s request for Suzy’s presence felt like an unnecessary complication. He could already picture her causing some sort of impolite scene at the palace, drawing unwanted attention.

He rubbed his temples, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. The investigation was already complex enough, and now he had to worry about keeping Suzy in check. Yet, the King’s command was absolute. Suzy would be coming with him.

With a sigh, Ryan reached for a quill and dipped it into the inkwell. He carefully penned a reply, acknowledging the King’s request and confirming their arrival. He kept the letter curt and professional, leaving no room for argument.

As he sealed the reply, a flicker of concern crossed his mind. What exactly did the King hope to gain from Suzy’s presence? Did he suspect her of knowing something? Or was it simply a political maneuver, a public display of unity? The answer remained tantalizingly out of reach.

One thing was certain – the upcoming journey to the palace would be fraught with challenges. He had a complex investigation to manage, a King’s expectations to meet, and now, the unpredictable presence of Suzy to contend with.

A sharp knock on the door shattered the silence of his study. "Enter," he called out, a hint of irritation lacing his voice.

The door creaked open, revealing Thorne and Byron, both men sporting unusually serious expressions. They entered the room and took their seats opposite Ryan, discarding their usual playful banter.

"Any news?" Ryan inquired, his gaze unwavering.

Thorne cleared his throat and leaned forward. "Regarding Luke," he began, his voice low and measured. "The tavern owner corroborated our suspicions. Luke did indeed approach him, specifically requesting work at Viscount Conrad’s residence."

Ryan’s brow furrowed. Hmm, specifically? The man was known for his frugal ways, unlikely to pay a premium for a gardener. This unexpected detail added another layer to the already perplexing mystery surrounding Luke.

"Any reason given?" Ryan pressed, his curiosity piqued.

Thorne shook his head. "The owner offered a vague explanation. Apparently, Luke was looking for a change, an opportunity to earn more coin. The owner spoke highly of him, said he was a strong worker."

Byron leaned back in his chair, a playful smile still dancing on his lips. "Convenient, wouldn’t you say, Ryan? Suddenly seeking a job at a specific location, with no prior connection to the Viscount? And the ease with which he obtained the job smells fishy to me."

Ryan couldn’t help but agree. The timing of Luke’s arrival, coupled with his targeted request for employment at Conrad’s residence, felt too coincidental. But what is this killer motive? What connection did he have to Conrad, or to the events that had transpired in his absence?

The silence in the room grew thick, each man lost in his own thoughts. Finally, Ryan broke the tension.

"Continue your investigation," he instructed, his voice firm. "Uncover everything you can about Luke – his background, his skills, any potential connections to Conrad or anyone else who might have an interest in our affairs."

Thorne nodded grimly. "Consider it done, Your Grace."

Ryan’s gaze snapped towards Byron, a spark of urgency igniting in his eyes. "What about Count Cooper?" he demanded, his voice sharp. "Anything from your end?"

Byron, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a grim seriousness, leaned forward in his chair. "Interesting developments, brother," he began. "It seems our initial assumption might have been... misplaced."

A tense silence hung in the air as Ryan and Thorne waited with bated breath.

"After digging deeper into the situation surrounding Count Cooper," Byron continued, "I’ve come to believe he was never a target. He might have been collateral damage, a pawn sacrificed to divert our attention."

Ryan’s brow furrowed. "Divert our attention?" he echoed, disbelief coloring his voice.

"Precisely," Byron confirmed, a grim nod accompanying his words. "It appears the killer deliberately orchestrated a situation that would point us towards the Viscount. They wanted us to believe he was the killer and Count Cooper was another victim. It’s brilliant, really, in a twisted sort of way. And for a moment, brother, I have to admit, we fell for it."

Thorne slammed his fist on the desk, a growl rumbling in his chest. "Damnation! We’ve been chasing shadows all along!"

"Exactly," Byron confirmed, a grim nod accompanying his words. "The question now is, who is the next target, and what is the endgame?"

Ryan’s mind raced, piecing together the fragmented clues. "There are three alphabets involved," he muttered, tracing invisible lines on the desk. "A, B, and C. Cooper and Conrad are under C. Does the killer intend to continue the pattern, targeting another C next?"

"Or perhaps," Thorne countered, his voice a low rumble, "the killer has already moved on to D, leaving us chasing ghosts."

An unsettling silence descended upon the room. The weight of the situation pressed down on them, the gravity of their task suddenly magnified tenfold.

"We need a new strategy," Ryan declared, his voice firm with resolve. "We can’t afford to be reactive anymore. We need to anticipate the killer’s next move."

"But how?" Byron asked, his playful facade completely gone, replaced by a mask of concern. "We have no idea who they are, or what their ultimate goal might be."

Ryan pursed his lips, his gaze fixed on the flickering flames in the fireplace. A thought, fleeting yet potent, sparked in his mind. "There is one thing we know," he said finally, his voice barely a whisper.

"And what’s that?" Thorne inquired, leaning forward in anticipation.

Ryan lifted his head, a determined glint in his eyes. "The killer is a noble " he stated.