Chapter 79: Guilt-Tripping Sebas
The afternoon light came through the sitting room windows at an angle, cutting a bright geometric shape into the floorboards.
The moment Lucian pushed open the door, he saw Sebas waiting.
The old butler was seated in the high-backed chair against the wall, both hands folded in his lap, back perfectly straight.
Sunlight came from behind him, laying a thin silver edge along his salt-and-pepper hair, and the black tailcoat gave off the quiet, unreflective sheen that belonged to good cloth.
Sebas wasn't looking out the window, and he wasn't taking in the room's furnishings. He simply sat there in stillness, like a statue that had been waiting for a very long time.
At the sound of the door, Sebas rose.
"Mr. Lucian." He inclined forward slightly.
"Mr. Sebas." Lucian returned the gesture and walked into the sitting room, pulling the door closed behind him. The hinges turned with a soft sound, like a sigh being pressed down.
Ainz has made his decision, then.
Lucian was a little nervous.
He crossed to the chair across from Sebas and didn't sit immediately. He raised a hand first.
"Please, Mr. Sebas."
They sat down at almost exactly the same moment.
Sebas didn't let the silence run on.
"Mr. Lucian." His tone was unhurried, but there was something in it that suggested a reasonably good mood. "Regarding the journey to the Dragon Kingdom, my lady has agreed."
Lucian felt his heart finally settle somewhere solid.
He didn't try to hold his expression back. His brows lifted slightly, then the light in his eyes came up a little at a time, and finally the corner of his mouth curved into something open and clear.
The whole sequence took less than a second, and every part of it was natural.
"Wonderful."
His voice came out bright, carrying enough genuine feeling to be convincing. He leaned forward slightly, palms braced on his knees, the way a young man who couldn't quite hold himself still would when he heard good news.
"Wonderful. With Mr. Sebas along this year, we'll be able to save far more of the Dragon Kingdom's people."
Sunlight fell across the side of his face, lighting up those pale green eyes until they were brimming with anticipation, something that looked very like the relief of a man who had finally found the help he needed.
That's a lie, of course.
Lucian thought.
With Sebas along, we could flatten the entire beastman kingdom.
Sebas looked at him. In those pale grey eyes, warmed by the afternoon light, there was something close to approval, the look of someone regarding a thing they genuinely found worth admiring.
"However," Sebas's voice resumed, and something more deliberate had entered it, "my lady's affairs in the capital while we're away. I'll have to ask Mr. Lucian to see to those."
Lucian's nod came without any hesitation at all.
"Of course." He said it with the certainty of a man describing something already arranged. "I'll have Siel handle the relevant matters. Mr. Sebas needn't worry."
Sebas gave a slight nod, as though filing the promise away safely.
"And when does Mr. Lucian plan to set out?"
Lucian didn't answer immediately.
He brought his hands back from his knees and settled against the chair back.
The moment his spine met the cushion, something shifted. The youthful eagerness of a moment ago drew back, replaced by something quieter and more considered.
"Mr. Sebas." Lucian's voice dropped slightly, his pace slower than before. "Before we leave, I need to deal with some filth here in the capital."
"What sort of filth does Mr. Lucian have in mind?" Sebas picked up the thread naturally.
Lucian's fingers rested on the armrest. The tips tapped twice, lightly, producing a small, precise sound.
"Eight Fingers."
When the words left his mouth, the small motion stopped. The atmosphere in the room grew heavier.
"Mr. Sebas may not be familiar with them." Lucian raised his eyes and met Sebas's gaze directly.
"Eight Fingers is the largest criminal organization operating beneath the Kingdom. Eight departments: slave trade, assassination, smuggling, theft, narcotics, security, finance, and gambling."
As he spoke, Lucian's right hand fingers curled in one at a time, tallying each department against his palm.
"Of them all, the slave trade department is the worst."
Sunlight came in from the side, casting a shallow shadow beneath Lucian's brow, and it made those pale green eyes look deeper than usual.
"Everyone they take, no distinction of gender or age, is sold as goods. Some are shipped overseas. Some end up in the illegal brothels here in the capital. And those who cannot be... used..."
He paused. His throat moved.
"Are killed for entertainment."
The sitting room went quiet for several seconds.
The sunlight shifted by a small measure. The edge of the bright strip across the floor crept silently up to the toe of Sebas's boot.
Sebas's expression didn't change.
But the hands folded in the old butler's lap, the fingers drew together, just slightly.
"So." Lucian spoke again. "Before we leave, I intend to clear out this filth."
He paused, his gaze still on Sebas.
"This is also for Miss Solution's sake."
Sebas's brow moved, fractionally.
"Once Mr. Sebas and I have both left the capital, Miss Solution will be here alone."
Genuine-looking concern had entered Lucian's voice. "Miss Solution is staying at my residence, but Eight Fingers has reach throughout the capital. If Miss Solution were to go out and happen to encounter them..."
Lucian's brow pressed together faintly, as though he were imagining a possibility he would very much prefer not to.
"Unless this organization is completely removed, Miss Solution could face genuine danger."
He said it with the natural weight of someone carrying responsibility, those pale green eyes looking directly at Sebas, the way a host might when worried about a guest's safety.
That should be enough.
Lucian thought.
By suggesting I'm also thinking about Solution's safety, I've given Sebas a clean, official excuse to act on what he already wants to do anyway. As Nazarick's head butler, he can hardly stand by and watch someone put themselves at risk to protect one of the Great Tomb's maids.
Moral coercion: successful.
Lucian waited for Sebas's response.
Sebas didn't answer immediately.
But Lucian could see his eyes, those pale grey eyes looking back at him, something shifting slowly inside them.
As though working something through.
As though reassessing.
The silence held for about five seconds.
Then Sebas spoke.
"Mr. Lucian." His voice was a little slower than usual, carrying the deliberate weight of something considered carefully. "If you have feelings for my lady..."
Lucian blinked.
"I'll do my best to put in a good word with my master."
Lucian's lashes moved again.
"Hah?"
His mouth opened slightly. A short, blunt syllable, carrying nothing but confusion.