The cottage Bridget found did indeed have a window to let in light, but it was positioned so high that peering inside to discern the interior proved challenging.
"It doesn't look locked… We're going in."
Monica's eyes widened in shock at Bridget's hasty decision-making.
"W-What?! What if someone's inside, what will we do… then…?"
"If it's the real prince, we'll be overjoyed. If not, we'll just say we mistook it for a storage shed," Bridget replied, and without waiting for Monica to stop her, she opened the door.
The shed wasn't a mere storage space but appeared to be a living area where someone resided.
There was a kitchen counter and rustic furniture—all of which had an aura of being well-used.
However, it was hard to believe that the real Prince Felix—a person of nobility—would live here. It seemed only slightly more refined than the mountain cabin Monica had lived in.
At the back of the room was a bed, and it seemed someone was sleeping there. Bridget's profile lit up with anticipation at the sight of the bed's bulge.
She surely wanted to call out "Your Highness!" Yet, Bridget closed her lips, which had begun to part, and quietly approached the bed.
"…Hmm? Is it time for food?"
The person lying in the bed rolled over and looked up at them.
As expected, it wasn't the real Prince Felix but a frail, white-haired old man.
"Well now, who might you young ladies be… new servants?"
The old man, still lying in bed, looked up at Bridget and Monica with round, cloudy eyes, seemingly surprised.
Bridget spoke up for the tongue-tied Monica.
"Ah, sorry about this. We're here to tend to the garden today. We were looking for a scythe to borrow; thought this might be a storage shed."
"Ah, I see, that's what it was. I'm sorry for the trouble; my back's been hurting. The scythe is in that wooden box over there. All the gardening tools are in there, so take whatever you need."
With a "Thank you," Bridget began rummaging through the wooden box as directed.
Each tool inside looked to be for gardening. And there, along the wall, hung work clothes and boots stained with mud and grass.
Monica couldn't help but glance at the old man. Though thin, his skin was tanned reddish-brown.
"…Are you, sir, the gardener of this mansion?"
"Yes, I've served this estate for a good forty years now."
The gardener explained that he still tended to the garden every day, but due to age and weak limbs, he relied on outside help for major tasks like today's planting.
So this cottage was a combination of a gardener's workshop and his home.
The old man struggled to rise from bed and looked at Monica.
"Ah, miss, would you mind grabbing that medicine for me? Yes, that paper bag there."
The old man must have had a hard time getting up. Following his request, Monica picked up the paper bag.
The bag listed the medicine's name, instructions to take one packet after meals, and the name of the person who prescribed it.
That name made Monica's eyes widen in shock.
It was the name of the man who infiltrated the Duke Reinberg's residence, caused the cursed dragon incident, and betrayed Monica's father.
Monica's heart pounded so hard it felt audible.
As Monica stared at the paper bag, the old man looked at her curiously and asked, "What's wrong?"
With a forced smile, Monica handed the bag to the old man and asked,
"Um, well, I'm personally indebted to Mr. Peter Sams… Is he still here at the mansion?"
Monica did her best to think on her feet as she asked, and the old man sighed a bit sadly in response.
"Come to think of it, I haven't seen him around lately. His medicine is running low, which is troubling."
"…Mr. Peter Sams made this medicine?"
"He was a doctor… huh? No, was that wrong? A researcher for the master, perhaps? …Well, it's the same thing as a doctor." ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ NoveI-Fire.ɴet
Peter was a pure-blooded shaman who had apprenticed to the Albright family, the Abyss Shaman.
In some regions, it wasn't unusual for shamans to perform medical or pharmaceutical tasks.
While at the Duke of Crockford's residence, Peter probably conducted his curse studies in secret while publicly presenting himself as a doctor.
It's as Lord Abyss Shaman said… Mr. Peter Sams was indeed connected to the Duke of Crockford…
Monica wanted more information about Peter.
Though Bridget looked at Monica with a suspicious face, she didn't rush her or interject.
Monica placed a hand over her thundering heart, trying to steady her breathing.
Monica wasn't skilled at improvising lies or probing for information, but she wanted to extract whatever she could, however clumsily.
"Peter worked at this mansion for a long time… How many years… was it?"
"About ten, I reckon. Came around the same time the previous doctor, Arthur, left."
Arthur. The name tugged at Monica's memory.
Arthur? Who was that again? …Right, that time…
Monica recalled the words Peter Sams had uttered just before his death.
"Ah, ah, I know His Excellency wouldn't let me escape… hah, haha, hahaha, I won't end up like Arthur!"
Arthur must have been the doctor serving before Peter, likely exterminated by the hands of the Duke of Crockford since Peter muttered ‘I won't end up like Arthur' on his deathbed.
As Monica mulled over this, Bridget, as if to fill the silence, casually struck up a conversation with the old man.
"You've been working at this mansion for a long time, haven't you? So, did you happen to see Prince Felix when he was a child?"
"Yes, Prince Felix did stay here during his boyhood… but he was a frail one. He hardly went outside, so I only saw him a few times… Besides—"
The old man paused, his gaze drifting into the distance, then murmured softly,
"—After that incident and his illness, Prince Felix completely shut himself away."
Bridget's eyes sparkled behind her glasses, and Monica noticed.
Disguising her curiosity as idle chatter, Bridget leaned in eagerly.
The old man didn't answer immediately but took some powder from the paper bag, swallowed it down with water from a jug, and placed the bag by his pillow before looking around the shed.
"This cottage, you see, used to be even more rundown. Back then, I lived with the other servants and this place was just for storage… Then there was a fire. Two servants died trying to put it out."
A chill ran down Monica's spine at the ominous feeling.
The fire occurred around the same time Prince Felix fell ill.
The two people who died in that fire.
"…W-Who were the ones that passed away?"
Monica interjected, and the old man murmured,
"The doctor I mentioned earlier, Arthur, and a young servant boy of the prince. The head maid at the time, old Marcy, was so shocked by the incident she went off to a convent… The prince was fond of both the head maid and the servant boy, so he took it hard and shut himself away."
"And, the name of the servant boy who died, what was it?"
The old man's eyes crinkled with remembrance, a nostalgic look on his face.
"Isaac Walker… He was a kind and gentle boy who was always willing to help me. He was a loyal subject of Prince Felix."