Early the next morning, Charles was once again roused by a knock at his door, the sound shattering the predawn calm. Still groggy from sleep, he shuffled over to open it, his bleary eyes settling on Joseph standing outside.
"What is it this time? Another urgent job?" Charles asked, voice heavy with exhaustion and a hint of irritation.
Joseph's reply came in a rush, worry etched on his face. "Roland's been released."
Charles, still half-asleep, merely nodded in a daze. "Mmm…"
"…Wait, what? Roland's been released?" he repeated, the dawning sunlight casting a faint orange glow over his shocked expression.
Joseph nodded emphatically, the anxiety in his pale blue eyes unmistakable. "Yes, he's free now. We need to get to the department—immediately!"
At once, Charles spun on his heel and hurried inside to throw on his clothes. A flurry of dust rose as he grabbed garments at random, pulling them on in a panicked rush. Moments later, he reappeared, wearing rumpled attire and hair sticking out in all directions, water droplets still clinging to his face from a hasty wash.
"Let's go," he said, casting a quick glance at the faintly flickering oil lamp in the corner. The morning air was moist with leftover dew from the night before.
They climbed into the waiting carriage, the driver snapping the reins as if he understood the gravity of the situation. Hoofbeats clattered against the cobblestones, echoing through the early morning streets as vendors and workers began their day.
A dozen questions whirled through the young detective's mind. Why had Roland been released? Who issued that order? Are we about to lose the most important lead we have?
The carriage rattled along the uneven road, jolting the two men in their seats, but neither paid any mind to the bumps. They focused solely on getting to their destination as quickly as possible, desperate to uncover the truth.
At last, they arrived at the Department of Supernatural Suppression and Defense. As soon as the carriage stopped, they both leaped out. Joseph told the driver to wait, then sprinted toward the main building. Thanks to recent medical care and some rest, Joseph's injured leg had improved significantly—though he was still not at full strength, he could now run without limping too much.
They raced through corridors and offices, ignoring the curious looks of coworkers they passed. Their faces showed urgency and alarm. The faster they moved, the more heads turned to see what was happening.
Reaching the second floor, they stopped outside Edward Cavendish's office. A brown-haired secretary with her hair neatly pinned up looked up in surprise. Her emerald-green eyes widened at the sight of Charles's disheveled state.
"Mr. Charles? Mr. Joseph?" she greeted them, arching an eyebrow. "Is something wrong?"
Charles was about to barge right in when Joseph gently held him back by the arm.
"Is the boss inside?" Joseph asked politely.
She nodded. "Yes, he's reviewing documents, but—" She trailed off upon noticing their grim expressions. "It must be urgent. I'll let him—"
Joseph raised a hand to stop her. "No need. I'll knock."
He rapped on the door three times, his hand steady. The secretary returned to her desk, watching them curiously.
"Come in," came Edward's voice from behind the door. Charles pushed it open, revealing Edward at his desk, a quill in one hand and a tall stack of paperwork at the other.
"Why was Roland released?!" Charles's words came out loud enough that the secretary outside startled. She glanced up from her work, tension evident in her posture. People passing by paused, casting questioning glances. Some whispered to one another, but quickly moved on when they noticed the secretary watching them back. She sighed under her breath, hoping this wouldn't turn into something ugly.
"That man must've held vital information—either about why the Script-Decipherers were after them or about Michael's disappearance!" Charles went on urgently.
Joseph stepped in with an equally tense face. "He could also have details regarding the experimental drug at St. Margaret's Hospice. Now that he's loose, there's no telling if he'll vanish. If we lose track of him, we lose our best lead!"
Edward's brows knit together, his keen gaze shifting between them. "Where did you two hear this?"
"Isabel told me," Joseph answered.
Edward sighed inwardly—'That girl can't keep anything secret,' he thought. He set his quill aside, resting his hand atop a stack of papers. Then he spoke in a firm tone:
"I didn't want to release him either. But there's an order from the higher-ups—someone above even my authority—demanding Roland be sent back to his family, with strict instructions that we not interfere further."
Charles's brow furrowed in disbelief. "I don't understand. Why would they let him go without questioning him thoroughly? His information could be critical in tracking down leads!"
Edward shook his head slowly, the weight of his own concerns etched in his expression. "I don't understand it either. But as officers of the government, we have to obey commands from those above us, even if we disagree."
"And that's it?" Charles asked bitterly, frustration creeping into his voice. "We're just supposed to accept some senseless order without any explanation at all?"
Edward fixed Charles with a stern look. His voice was curt. "Watch yourself, Charles. Keep your emotions in check."
He turned to Joseph. "I know you think interrogating Roland is essential, but there's nothing we can do. We have to respect the chain of command."
Joseph pressed, "What do we do now, then? Are we just letting a key witness or suspect walk away?"
Edward lowered his gaze to the documents on his desk, massaging his forehead as though to chase away a growing headache. "I understand how you both feel. I want those answers just as much. But these are direct orders from a higher authority. Our hands are tied."
Charles stood rooted to the spot, resentment and suspicion swirling in his mind. He struggled not to let anger get the better of him. The directive to free Roland felt like a blow, preventing him from discovering the truth—whether about the mysterious concoctions or the cryptic language that somehow only he could read.
In the end, Charles apologized for his outburst and excused himself. Edward granted him leave to go. As Charles departed, Edward let out a long sigh. He too was unhappy with the decision, but as a high-ranking Ascendant himself, he was constrained by numerous rules. Defying those above him could have grave consequences for both him and the entire department.
All he could hope was that the higher-ups had valid reasons and that this wouldn't hamper the investigation too much.
Joseph remained behind a moment longer. Edward regarded his nephew quietly.
"You understand why I have to follow orders, right?" Edward asked softly.
Joseph nodded. "Yes. As a top-tier Ascendant, you must be more cautious than most. Disobeying could cause serious problems for you and for the division."
"Precisely," Edward murmured, rubbing his face in exhaustion. "But I understand why Charles is upset. Anyone would be, after risking their life only to see that effort undone by a single order. I'm sure he's already thinking about how to track Roland on his own."
"I'll keep an eye on him," Joseph promised. "Charles might be impulsive, but he's not fool enough to do anything reckless."
Edward gave a faint smile. "I appreciate it. Thank you. The truth is, he's a good officer—I don't want him jeopardizing himself or the case."
Joseph nodded once more, then asked to be excused. Edward watched him go, tension etched across his brow as he faced the ever-growing stacks of documents on his desk.
Outside in the hallway, Charles stood there, trying to regulate his breathing. Joseph emerged moments later, still wearing a concerned expression. The secretary glanced at them, anxious curiosity evident in her emerald eyes, but she dared not question them.
As Charles and Joseph walked away, other staff members sneaked looks. Some whispered behind their hands at Charles's moody demeanor, but when he met their gazes, they hastily returned to their business.
Once clear of the onlookers, Charles turned to Joseph and spoke in a low voice. "Do you know where Roland lives?"
Joseph hesitated—just as Edward had predicted. "I do, but we shouldn't go after him. That would go against a direct order from above."
"But we need his information, or we might never close this case," Charles pressed. "We can't just let it—"
"Stop right there," Joseph cut in firmly, meeting Charles's gaze with razor focus. "We need to cool down first. For now, all we can do is wait. We'll pick things up again when the time is right."
Charles tried to argue, hoping Joseph would relent, but his friend stood firm. Finally, Charles gave up.
As they parted ways, Joseph called after him, "Don't do anything foolish. I'll be watching you!"
Charles didn't look back. He went straight to a quiet lounge reserved for department members, settling onto a plush sofa and sipping hot tea. He forced himself to nibble on a few snacks even though he had no appetite.
He felt stifled by the order to let Roland go, as if a high wall now blocked any chance of finding the answers he sought. Still, Charles had never been one to give in easily. If Roland's trail was off-limits, he'd pursue something else.
'Perhaps I can gather more intel from existing records,' he thought. 'The City Guard might have detailed files on the fire at St. Margaret's Hospice. It's a start—plus I need everything I can get before questioning Humphrey Gray again.'
With that in mind, Charles jumped up. He needed Joseph's help dealing with the City Guard. Hurrying back to find him, Charles spotted his friend lost in deep thought. Joseph noticed Charles's approach and gave him a guarded look, as if expecting more demands about Roland. Quickly, he spoke first:
"If you're about to ask me for Roland's address again, don't bother—I won't say a word!"
Charles lifted both hands, placating him. "No, no. Not about that."
Joseph raised his eyebrows, curious. "Then what is it?"
Charles explained his new plan to gather relevant data from the City Guard. Once he'd laid it out, Joseph nodded.
"All right, that's a lot more reasonable. Our department does have the authority to request those files."
Joseph's dark eyes lit up, as though recalling something else. "Speaking of which, what about the Hidden Domain?"
A subtle grin spread across his face. "If you really want to see it with your own eyes, I can show you. Consider it another lesson about working in our division. But…"
Charles turned sharply at the hesitation. "Oh no, not more conditions—what is it this time?"
Joseph shrugged. "Just that… we can only go there after dusk, once the sun has completely set, on a clear night with no cloud cover. Those are the requirements."
Charles blinked in surprise. "Why so many constraints just to go somewhere? What sort of place is this Hidden Domain?"
Joseph merely gave him another cryptic smile. "Don't worry, you'll find out soon enough. For now, just wait till nightfall. Then we can head there."
Charles nodded, though curiosity gnawed at him. He was eager to find out what secrets the Hidden Domain held. Since Joseph refused to elaborate any further, Charles resigned himself to waiting for the evening—when, perhaps, they would uncover more pieces of the mystery.