The Insane Regressor: Throne of Pride

Over the next hour, Evernight Palace became a web of wax seals.

Ravian brought rolls of thin paper, blocks of wax, and two small sealing stamps from the Correspondence Office, then set them on the table in the main hall instead of handing them directly to Mirai or Aldric.

’Who knows? One of them might be the killer, lying in wait for me, so I had better be careful, right?’ Ravian thought sarcastically.

The elderly Aldric, who had unofficially taken charge, divided the participants into groups to inspect the pipes. He, Bran, and Garrick headed for the central column behind the main hall, while Sylvan and Kaiden took charge of inspecting the kitchen and cellar. Mirai remained with Talia in the North Wing despite Talia’s initial objection, while Ravian was sent to his office to finish all his tasks and dispatch the messages waiting there before two of the others came to join him and seal the copper pipes in his office.

No one objected to him working alone during the first hour.

Night was still a long way off, and any communication made now could be superseded by dozens of later interactions before the third toll. What they feared was the final moment, not the beginning of the day, so none of them were especially vigilant, particularly since direct attacks between participants were impossible.

That gave Ravian the time he needed.

He entered the Correspondence Office and closed the door, then swept his gaze over the openings set into the wall.

The copper pipe opening was the most obvious, but it was no longer the most important.

Beside the correspondence box rested a broad wooden cylinder containing seven slots. Ravian had used two of them the previous day to send immediate replies to the palace’s guests, but he had noticed even then that the remaining slots did not open onto the same route.

Previously, all he had needed to do was hold the appropriate message, and the corresponding slot would open on its own.

Each one bore a different symbol. Among them were:

A white sun.

A plate with a line through its center.

A gray chandelier.

And three black bells, the first bearing one mark, the second two, and the third three.

A collection of useless nonsense that could simply have been ignored without making the slightest difference.

Except they were not merely different routes for messages.

They represented different times.

Earlier, when one of the mirage servants had placed a dinner list into the slot marked with the gray chandelier in Ravian’s office, an internal barrier had swallowed it instead of sending it to its destination immediately. The list had vanished into the cylinder, only to emerge from its sealed compartment and reach the dining hall shortly before dinner.

The palace did more than deliver messages to their intended locations.

It could hold them until the intended time as well.

Ravian opened the accounts drawer and took out a routine order concerning the number of wine bottles in the Eastern Hall. He placed it inside the noon slot, then recorded in the work log that he had sent it to the senior mirage servant stationed there; the mirage servants still handled some of the work, since it would have been impossible for the original nine participants—or the eight who remained now—to perform every task in such an enormous palace.

He did not need to wait for the result. He already understood the mechanism, but he wanted to measure the interval between the cylinder’s rotation and the moment the message emerged at the recipient’s end.

Less than a minute later, Kaiden entered the office without knocking.

He carried a small notebook in one hand and an accounting sheet in the other.

”I need to correct the number of seats at the seventh table. The palace added two dead guests to the list, then reserved dinner for them tomorrow.”

Kaiden said it with complete nonchalance, as though he had just uttered the most logical statement imaginable.

Ravian raised his eyes to him with a frown.

”What the hell is this supposed to mean?” Ravian asked.

”I don’t know. That’s what it says here, and common sense is useless here anyway,” Kaiden replied, his expression just as calm.

”Close the door. The copper pipe hasn’t been sealed yet, so we can send it through there,” Ravian said, motioning him farther inside.

Kaiden did so, then placed the sheet on the edge of the desk without pushing it toward him.

Ravian reviewed the figures on the accounting sheet Kaiden had brought and corrected them on the copy before him. Logical errors in their tasks were among the contradictions the palace constantly created, and no one knew whether they were deliberate attempts to play on their nerves or whether the palace simply cared less about the details than it did about keeping what the unknown entity called the game going; however, that was not the real reason Kaiden had come in person instead of sending the sheet with a mirage servant.

The young man kept rubbing the side of his thumb, as he had done ever since first introducing himself in the Nightmare World.

After a brief silence, he said, ”Sylvan is watching you.”

Ravian’s pen stopped moving across the paper, and he raised his head to look at Kaiden.

”And you came to my office alone to tell me that?” Ravian asked.

Kaiden gave a small smile.

”I don’t trust him either.”

”The feeling is mutual, but that alone isn’t enough to bring you all the way here just to tell me this,” Ravian said as he set down the pen and rested his hand on the desk.

Kaiden leaned slightly over the paper, but he did not lower his voice to a whisper.

”Your position gives you access to almost every message in the palace. After what happened to Elena, Sylvan may see that as a reason to suspect you, but I see it as precisely what makes your knowledge useful, and I don’t think you’re the killer.”

Although everything Kaiden had said sounded nice enough, Ravian’s expression barely changed.

”What do you want, Kaiden?” Ravian asked coldly, plainly indifferent to the entire speech.

Seeing that Ravian was unmoved, Kaiden immediately dropped the flattery and decided to be honest.

”I want you to tell me if an order bearing my name or position passes through here without my knowledge. In exchange, I’ll tell you what goes on in the dining hall behind your back. The mirage guests talk in front of the waiter as though he were a piece of furniture, and sometimes they repeat things they’ve heard from other participants,” Kaiden said, his voice heavy.

Only then did genuine interest gleam in Ravian’s eyes.