With his legs stretched out on his desk, Vincent flipped through an accounting report when a knock sounded at the door—only for it to be pushed open before he could respond.
A tall man stepped in, dirty-blond hair framing his pale face, a broad smile stretched across his lips. His hands were buried in the pockets of his brown trousers.
"The Viscount himself." His rough, gruff voice filled the room, his heavy boots striking the floor with force at every step.
Vincent's gaze shifted to him. "To what do I owe this visit? I refuse to believe it's out of the goodness of your heart."
A raspy laugh escaped William's throat. "I wish. Unfortunately, I'm here strictly for business."
He reached into his coat and pulled out a neatly folded paper, waving it slightly before placing it on the desk and sliding it toward Vincent.
"What is this?" Vincent asked, glancing from the man to the paper and back again.
"A letter from the council," William said, nodding toward it. "It's for you. Open it."
Vincent picked it up and unfolded it, his eyes scanning its contents before he set it back down.
"So… what do you say?" William prompted, looking between him and the paper.
"Why am I going?" Vincent questioned coolly. "The council has capable men to investigate this issue. Why am I being called?"
Vincent was not one to involve himself in the affairs of Nox—that was the council's responsibility.
Fortunately for him, they avoided him just as much as he avoided them. His only involvement with their matters was attending balls and gatherings—and even that was only because his father had a habit of meddling where he shouldn't.
"I'm afraid I can't speak for the council," William replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "They believe you're the best man for the job." He paused, then added, "I think you should go."
Vincent's eyes narrowed. "I do not care what you think, Fortier."
William smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes.
Vincent was certain the council intended to provoke him. They had over a hundred people they could have sent with this message—yet they chose him.
A poor excuse of a man.
And one Vincent found particularly irritating, even at the mere sight of him. He was already getting irritated just having this conversation.
The urge to massage his temples grew harder to ignore.
According to the letter, he would have to journey to Hassille in two days—a long trip, as the town lay on the outskirts of Nox.
He racked his brain for an excuse but came up with nothing. Truthfully, he had nothing of importance planned for the coming week, so there was little reason to refuse.
Besides… there would be torture. Blood. Death.
Who was he to deny himself such pleasure? It would be a good time to entertain himself and play with his new tools he received from the blacksmith.
"Very well, then. Inform them that I will go to Hassille and uncover whatever is going on," he said, leaning back in his chair.
"Alright. I'll let them know. Any further information will be sent to you before the day of departure," William replied, already making his way toward the door.
"Good."
Vincent's gaze caught the thick red scar along the side of William's neck as he adjusted the collar of his coat. He watched him until he stepped out of the study, the door closing behind him.
Almost immediately, Gabriel entered, his brows drawn together in confusion. "What's he doing here?"
"He delivered a letter from the council." Vincent gestured to the paper.
Gabriel picked it up, scanning its contents. "What the actual fuck? How did this even happen?"
"I suppose I'll have to go find out."
"So, you're going?"
"Yes. I'm getting bored here. A little excitement will do me good." A faint smile tugged at his lips. "It should be fun."
Gabriel sighed, immediately understanding what the Viscount meant. "One would think you a monster, the way you fantasize about blood and death."
Vincent chuckled softly. "I see no issue with being a monster, Gabe. It's rather fascinating."
"I'll come with you," Gabriel said.
"No." Vincent shook his head. "Stay here. Watch over the mansion… and the girl."
"You're right." Gabriel exhaled slowly. "I have a feeling she will cause trouble soon. I can sense it."
"That's precisely why you're here—to keep her in check." Vincent's voice turned colder. "I would hate to return to chaos in my own home."
"Very well. I shall do my best not to send her to the dungeon," Gabriel joked.
Vincent only responded with a faint smile.
Gabriel straightened, his eyes returning to the paper in his hands. "About these killings… what do you think happened?"
"I have no idea," Vincent replied. "It's quite strange that a farmer would brutally slaughter his wife and six children."
"And he doesn't even remember doing it," Gabriel added, confusion etched across his face. "It says he killed them with his bare hands, tore out their hearts, which are now missing."
Vincent's gaze darkened slightly. "I wonder what his reasoning could have been."
"Me too."
A moment of silence settled between them as they both pondered the disturbing details.
For the most part, Nox was a peaceful kingdom, with very little crime and that was largely due to the strict laws enforced upon those who dared to cause trouble.
People minded their business.
They avoided trouble.
Long ago, word had spread within and beyond the walls of Nox about how ruthless and heartless its rulers were. Still, no one dared to speak too loudly of it for fear of being heard.
Thieves were publicly whipped, stripped bare, and starved until they were nothing but skin and bone.
Traitors suffered far worse—kept alive in agony for days before being beheaded.
And so, for years, Nox remained safe.
Peaceful.
Until yesterday.
When the incident in Hassille occurred.
The council had done well to keep it contained—for now. The last thing anyone wanted was panic spreading among the people.