System of the Beast Slayer [litrpg Adventure]
Copyright© 1999 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 260: Secrets of the Nineteenth Maid
In the corridor outside the storeroom of La Valette Castle, several dozen servants stood in a line. Most of them were maids, women in the finest bloom of their lives, slender of figure, fair of face, their skin smooth and supple. Added to that were their obedient bearing and careful dress, making them an altogether pleasing sight.
“The old baron certainly lives in style...” Roy’s gaze moved slowly over the flock of bright-eyed women, and he thought to himself, “At his age, and he still keeps this many maids. Can he even make use of them?”
Pulling his thoughts back in, the Witcher shook his head. In the Scrying view, every one of these servants was a genuine ordinary human, without a trace of magic or any special Skill. At most, their physical condition matched that of a normal grown adult.
Under the scrutiny of the two Witchers, they scarcely dared breathe.
So, had it really been one of the servants who harmed Aryan and took the jewels he carried on him?
Much more likely, it was a false trail left by the real culprit.
With that in mind, Roy let his gaze circle over the servants.
“Everyone, Mistress Hill Vea has already informed you of the particulars, I take it. As long as you cooperate honestly and answer our questions, we will not keep you long...”
Hill Vea, standing at the front, said sternly, “The matter concerns young master Aryan’s life and death. I hope all of you will fully cooperate with the two masters ... If anyone dares to conceal anything or lie ... then you know the castle’s rules well enough!”
Hill Vea’s voice rang out clear and strong, determination written across her gentle face. “Adel, you first...”
“Y-yes, Sister Hill Vea...” A pretty, slight young girl stepped out from the line and followed the two Witchers into the storeroom off the corridor.
Bang. The wooden door shut fast, the servants all gave a start, and the corridor fell even quieter than before, so still one could hear a pin drop.
“Adel ... that night at the banquet, were you assigned to attend a guest?” The two Witchers stood side by side with their arms folded, their eyes fixed sharply on the slight girl in the corner, bent a little at the back.
She looked like a startled little animal. Gul. She swallowed hard. “Two masters ... that night I was assigned to attend Lord Elvis...”
“Elvis, the barony’s chief spice merchant.” Roy took out the guest list once more and studied it carefully. “You stayed by Elvis the whole time?”
Adel’s little brows furrowed as she put on an expression of intense thought. “Two masters, because of the master’s orders, everyone stayed by their guest at all times. Adel ... Adel absolutely did not slack off!”
“Good.” The two Witchers exchanged a glance, and there was a hint of a smile on both faces. “Then do you remember whether Lord Elvis left the banquet hall at any point that night, between eight fifty ... and nine twenty?”
The girl’s face went blank at that. She plainly did not remember the exact hour.
“Then let me put it another way. From the moment the troupe finished performing until young master Aryan met with misfortune, about half an hour.”
Only then did Adel pat her small chest and let out a breath. “Two masters, I can swear it, Lord Elvis stayed in the banquet hall the whole time. He never went out!”
“Think carefully, little girl,” Letho said. “We need the truth ... Are you certain Elvis did not slip away in the middle, when no one was watching, for five minutes, even less?”
Adel stared for a moment at the bald Letho’s rigid, stony face, then said, “Two masters, please believe Adel. At the time ... at the time there was also a director of Vivaldi Bank in the banquet hall, Lord Auston. He and Lord Elvis were discussing some business the whole time, talking with great enthusiasm from start to finish. Eredin can testify to that, she was assigned to attend Lord Auston.”
“I see...” The two Witchers traded another glance, then asked a few more questions that left Adel utterly baffled, none of them particularly meaningful. “Very well, little girl, you may go. Tell Eredin to come in next.”
...
The Witchers’ questioning proceeded in neat order. After an hour, they had spoken with eighteen maids, and the answers were all the same, none of the guests had left the banquet hall.
Half an hour was scarcely more than the time for a few cups of wine. Besides, that night’s guests were members of the upper circles, all of one stink, so to speak. They were talking with great enthusiasm about women, business, the transfer of power, disturbances near the Amell Mountains, and a dozen other things. Who among them would have had the leisure to leave?
Many of the maids’ accounts supported one another. The Witchers found no cause to doubt them.
Once or twice there were servants who seemed excessively nervous, and then the Witchers simply used the Axii Sign in their questioning. The door stood between them and the corridor, after all, outsiders had no way of knowing what truly happened inside the room.
Unfortunately, after the questioning, it turned out those maids were merely weak-nerved and emotionally unstable. They gave the Witchers nothing of worth.
Until the nineteenth one.
...
“Beaty ... two masters ... I am Beaty...” A maid with long chestnut hair, a few faint freckles across the bridge of her nose, and a full figure stepped into the storeroom.
She looked to be about thirty, older than most of the maids, with a more mature and womanly charm.
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