Kapitel 18: Doctor's Visit

"This may be a bit abrupt but, since we have an hour's ride to sit through, maybe I can interview you now?" Mattheus asked. He gave a slightly sheepish smile in an attempt to diffuse how he was ignoring proper etiquette of small talk and polite generalities.

Nicholas Hart appeared slightly startled. After gathering himself, he replied, "Yes, of course. I will try to answer to the best of my abilities."

A part of Mattheus wanted to pull out a notebook to take notes but such an act might have made the interviewee uncomfortable (and, most importantly, more careful with their words), which would be rather detrimental to the process. Instead, he tried to stay focused and memorized as much as he was able to before he could record it down later.

At least Brunilda would be with him for a second perspective.

"Thank you. How long have you known Lady Grant?"

…

It took less than an hour before they arrived at the countryside estate that reminded Mattheus of something out of a gardening magazine from his old world. The acreage was rather daunting to think about, with a visual scale to compare.

That was—if the viscount residence was this amazing—Mattheus couldn't fathom how the main estate looked like in Basilea, the city the Crowns called their home. From the numbers, the Crown estate was over four times the size of Viscount Grant's estate in Noll's Hill.

He knew that there were different levels of influence even if a noble held the same title but it still made him feel awkward to realize Earl Crown was part of the upper echelons of this aristocratic hierarchy.

Viscount Grant was technically one of the most influential viscounts, after all. Edgar might garner the respect a viscount was due but it had been a title Alfred Crown had gained in his younger years and lacked land in New Albion to care for.

With mixed feelings about his new family, Mattheus walked into the manor and was greeted by a retinue of servants. A man was near the end of the lined up members of staff, looking more similar to Nicholas Hart in attire than the household staff.

"It must have been a long trip, Doctor Crown. I am the steward of Noll's Hill, left in charge by Viscount Grant, Henry Rhodes."

As required by etiquette that formed a vast majority of interactions between individuals of their station, Mattheus returned the greeting and exchanged pithy comments with the steward. Technically, Mattheus Crown didn't need to do so but it was probably better to butter up the man in charge of the estate in the General's place.

It wasn't as if Mattheus cared about classist or elitist ideologies, after all. The pride of a noble was still a fairly foreign concept to him, who came from a world that at least openly espoused equality—even if actual practice deviated from such ideals.

He is guided to the room by the butler, where he would stay at while he was a guest at the General's behest Only a short time was spent freshening up and jotting down the mental notes he took while speaking to Hart during the carriage ride over.

Mattheus soon walked out again, wandering around hoping to run into someone that could point him the way, Brunilda trotting along beside him as he walked down the hall at a leisurely pace.

He spotted a man fairly quickly who was walking the same way. Someone who wasn't a servant, judging by the cut and color of the suit.

"Excuse me!"

The man flinched a little before turning around, freezing for a moment.

Ah.

"Apologies," Mattheus stated. "I forget I have a rather quiet gait that can surprise others if they're not expecting me."

"I-It's fine." The probable assistant to either Hart or Rhodes was young or at least looked it. If one based it only on appearance, the man looked between the ages of the Crown brothers. The wary expression disappeared after he realized something and quickly amended with a polite address. "Lord Crown."

Mattheus smiled courteously in an attempt to put the rather high-strung man a bit more at ease. "So you know who I am. Are you an assistant to Sir Rhodes?"

He nodded stiffly. "Yes, my lord."

Wow, that felt awkward to hear. It was really annoying Mattheus couldn't tell him to stop without it being weird to do so in the first place. The assistant also wasn't wrong with the address, since he was now a Baron thanks to the King.

It wouldn't be the first time he was addressed as "my lord" but it was also never to be the last time.

"Would Sir Rhodes not be too busy to meet with me right now? Or sometime very soon?"

The assistant murmured something agreeable before escorting Mattheus to the office of the steward.

Mattheus ended up pausing when he walked in behind the assistant (Benjamin, from how Rhodes addressed the younger man), noticing the presence of Nicholas Hart.

Hart met his gaze and bowed slightly. "Professor, I will gather some of the people you want to talk to. You can speak with them after the evening meal."

The man then excused himself, until only Mattheus and Rhodes were in the office. At some point, the assistant must have left while Mattheus had been distracted by Hart.

It was the perfect opportunity, though Mattheus wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing when it was clear that Rhodes had been expecting the nineteen-year-old to ask questions of him.

Henry Rhodes was… complex.

It was a godsend that Brunilda was able to read the heart of individuals. It was very helpful in the world of the upper-class and elite, where there was a habit of putting on airs.

With the cat's information, he was able to form a clearer picture of Henry Rhodes: someone who was almost the opposite of General Grant but still competent and probably not embezzling.

…

Mattheus sighed and slumped onto a couch in the rooms they gave him to stay at, a bit exhausted from the whole day.

After an almost headache-inducing accidental battle of wits with Henry Rhodes, the youngest Crown sibling had dinner that was the very definition of autumn's bounty. He was somewhat glad Rhodes excused himself so Mattheus only ate with Hart.

He had only been able to talk to two people after dinner though. Apparently, the timing had been off and he would need to get up in the morning to talk to the maids that waited after Nina Grant. So, in the end, he talked to the cook, Joseph, and the young assistant, Benjamin.

"It's rather interesting how the General managed to keep such a food allergy from the cook himself. He's been working in this estate for a while too."

"Noll's Hill is landlocked, so most shellfish that could be shipped here would be preserved. Considering how preserved seafood could taste, I don't think it's surprising no one knew." Brunilda hopped onto the seat beside him, ears flicking over noises he couldn't hear around the manor.

Mattheus hummed as he leaned his head back to face the ceiling before draping an arm over his eyes. "Nina Grant had been skipping meals occasionally for months but it's been six weeks since she's had a relapse. While some plates of food are left uneaten, it is now more of a chance of tastes issue rather than some type of punishment or attempt at control that would suggest it was a symptom of a mental issue."

"She still seems to sleep an excessive amount."

"I don't know about excessive. If she is not participating in soirees and parties—which she wouldn't be since the mourning period is for a year—she wouldn't have much to do. And sleeping in until noon is something you do fairly often."

Brunilda just made a doubtful sound. "You're probably going to have to ask the housekeeper whether Nina Grant managed the household budget and the like before, along with whether she was any good at it."

"Why would being good at homemaking be an issue?" Mattheus furrowed his brown in confusion.

"It doesn't matter in the way you think it does. Normally, do people not enjoy doing what they are good at more than what they struggle with?"

"I guess?" Mattheus used to know some masochists online though that was the exact opposite of what Brunilda just hypothetically asked. He shook his head and moved on. "Either way, there doesn't seem to be enough information just yet. Good thing you're going to snoop around later tonight and, hopefully, you'll get something during your nightly prowl around this estate."

"Mattheus."

"Hm?"

"I'm going to stick with you tonight."

The young man blinked before a slight frown tugged at the corners of his lips. "Why? Are you feeling sick?" He made to reach the other.

"My instincts. It's just telling me to stay close, Mattheus."

Brunilda's gut hunches were fairly accurate. They didn't call it "feminine intuition" mostly because the last thing these hunches involved were "feelings."

Mattheus started feeling uneasy. There were moments throughout the day that made him uncomfortable but he had just dismissed them with being unfamiliar with the surroundings along with what he was doing. Her words reminded him of it again and that maybe he had been too hasty in excusing the feeling for something innocuous.

Brunilda started walking a loose loop on top of the seat. "I'm not sure why, but do you not think there is something ominous about this place?"

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