Carlos had been reviewing the tax reports and financial records of Valmest for hours, the pages spread neatly across the desk before him. Numbers, dates, seals—everything appeared orderly at first glance. Too orderly.
No discrepancies. No missing sums. No obvious fraud.
And that, in itself, was suspicious.
"These aren't the original ledgers." Ruel voices his thoughts.
Carlos exhaled slowly and lifted his gaze. Across from him stood the head butler, Rigsby, spine stiff with age and habit, and the baronial aide, Marimer—a man in his late forties whose expression had been carefully schooled into neutrality.
"Are these really the original ledgers?" Carlos asked the two.
The two men exchanged a brief glance—quick enough to be polite, slow enough to be noticed. Neither answered.
He wasn't going to get anything from them, if his own reputation wasn't enough then these people also were secretive about their problems.
