The Villain’s Aide Has Run Away - Chapter 110.2
The first person summoned was the head chef.
He entered with a frightened expression and spoke unexpected words.
“His Highness the Crown Prince’s aide asked to inspect the food supplies.”
“What?”
Baron Kelly’s eyes narrowed.
The head chef hunched his shoulders and confessed what had happened—the gradual disappearance of food supplies and the incident in the storage room.
When the name Leslun was mentioned in the process, the Dean immediately grasped the situation.
Leslun was the Crown Prince’s aide.
Kelly had seen him before, when the Crown Prince visited before the Academy’s opening, and had occasionally observed him since then.
He had already suspected that Leslun was not merely an aide. Yet it was unexpected that Leslun had taken the initiative to act first.
Was he moving under the Crown Prince’s orders?
Even as the Dean pondered, the head chef continued his account.
“To prevent the food supplies from wilting, we always keep the temperature low in that place. His Highness the Crown Prince came out from there. It seems he entered while looking for his aide…”
Even recalling the moment now, the chef felt a chill run down his spine and could not bring himself to finish the sentence.
“Fortunately, His Highness suffered no major harm.”
“Why did you not report it?”
“His Highness told me that day to keep silent.”
Baron Kelly swallowed a sigh.
The fact that something had occurred within the Academy under his administration without his knowledge weighed heavily on his chest.
“Summon Student Leslun at once.”
However, the secretary soon returned with a report that Leslun was absent that day, having taken medical leave.
The head chef, seated in the corner of the Dean’s office, wiped his cold sweat and watched anxiously.
If I had reported it sooner, would this have been less serious? Or will the blame now fall entirely upon me?
He rubbed his hands together carefully and lowered his head deeply.
“You may leave.”
The Dean’s voice was unexpectedly calm.
The chef let out a sigh of relief, bowed quickly, and hurried out of the room.
“So something really did happen.”
The Dean murmured quietly.
She had been too focused on the students and had neglected the details of the Academy’s management. Blaming herself for the oversight, she closed her heavy eyelids.
Then, the secretary carefully added another report.
“Dean, the librarian has recently been replaced.”
Baron Kelly lifted his head sharply.
“The librarian? Did I approve that appointment?”
“Yes. The report was submitted and signed. But there is something strange. Though the recommendation letter was verified, the person had no prior experience.”
As the memory resurfaced, an uncomfortable throb began to pulse in the Dean’s chest.
“Bring him to me. I must see him in person.”
Determination not to overlook even the smallest matter was reflected in the Dean’s eyes.
But the moment the librarian opened the door and stepped into the office, all of Baron Kelly’s plans collapsed.
“You sent for me?”
The sound of his voice scraped like metal against stone. The Dean’s gaze lingered on him instinctively.
“Yes. I called you to confirm, since we have not met personally.”
The librarian folded his hands neatly together. His thin, wrinkled skin was stained with dried ink marks. He appeared to be an ordinary man one could find anywhere.
Yet, strangely, the Dean could not take his eyes off him.
It was an odd feeling.
She could not tell whether it was unease, suspicion, or simply fatigue that brought on a fleeting hallucination.
When the librarian slowly lowered his head, there was a brief moment when his eyes seemed sharp and fierce, but she could not be certain.
“You may leave.”
In the end, the Dean spoke while concealing her unease.
The librarian bowed deeply. His stooped back curved like a wave as he offered his bow before leaving through the door.
The Dean could not lower her eyelids until the sound of his footsteps faded beyond the door.
Left alone in the quiet room, she soon opened a drawer.
Inside was a blank sheet of paper. She grasped her pen and immediately began to write.
As the ink seeped into the paper, dark lines began to take shape.
Not long after, the door opened again, and the secretary entered.
The Dean held up the freshly written letter.
“Send this to His Highness the Crown Prince.”
“Yes, understood.”
The secretary accepted the letter with both hands. Even as he tucked it into his coat, his posture remained upright and stiff, like a needle.
Baron Kelly did not put down the pen.
From the drawer, he took out another blank sheet of paper.
And in the solitude of the silent room, he began to write once more.
This time, he did not summon the secretary.
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