Jian Cavendish.
That instant, Dagori froze.
On the other side of the glass, Tales' expression shifted as well.
"W-why?" the wine merchant asked instinctively.
"You know why." Raphael's smile did not falter.
Dagori sat up straight and said uneasily:
"T-this little brother, you... you said you serve the Kingdom?"
"Which department, exactly?"
Raphael nodded, growing more interested.
"How strange. You aren't afraid of the Treasury Department, which sucks people dry, nor the ferocious Vigilant Hall, nor even the aloof Court of Justice."
"Yet the moment you hear the name of some foreign grand noble, you lose your composure completely."
Dagori shuddered.
He realized something and nervously looked around.
"This isn't any Vigilant Hall at all, is it?"
"Who do you really work for?"
Raphael snorted softly.
"Oh, perhaps you're afraid the Duke of Iris will find out that Dagori Moss—a capable merchant who received his help and favor, carried out his orders, and acted as his agent in the Central Territory's wine trade—has been secretly lining his own pockets behind his back, pocketing enormous kickbacks for so long, and running so many private businesses elsewhere..."
Tales saw Dagori tremble with every word Raphael uttered.
Raphael smiled amiably.
"And he even dared to claim that his business had failed, then go crying to the duke about how poor he was?"
Dagori's breathing quickened. He swallowed hard.
"Listen, little brother, there must be some misunderstanding between us. I don't understand a single thing you're talking about..."
Raphael gathered up the documents and rose from his seat, looking as if he were about to call it a day and leave.
"Don't worry. We'll arrange a carriage shortly and send you home with great fanfare, so everyone knows, to thank you for your cooperation and confession—after these pieces of evidence are delivered to Emerald