I Became a Side character in a BL novel

67- The Interrogation (1)

Droit's POV

The doctor had come in and declared her dead.Cause of death appears to be exsanguination from a deep incision to the throat- is what he said.

Countess’s body was taken away within an hour.

The linen that covered her face fluttered slightly in the breeze as the servants carried her down the hallway, white on white, vanishing into the light beyond the villa doors. And just like that, the room that had echoed with her laughter two nights ago now smelled only of blood and grief.

I stood there longer than I should have.

How impermanent everything is.

Only yesterday, the Countess had been so alive and sharp. She was happy about the progress we had made about the hidden treasure.

She had reached out to us with such high hopes. Although, me and Lassells have made a name for ourseleves but to invite us to a noble gathering- just shows how much she trusted us.

And now, she was gone.

Someone had murdered her.

But the question is why?

There were no signs of a struggle beyond the bed. The cut to her throat was clean. No accidental wound could have been that precise, that practiced. This wasn’t panic. It was intention.

This was a pre-planned murder.

I looked at the stain left on the bed sheets where her blood had reached. The morning light touched it now, pale and merciless.

"Countess Cecilia Evermore," I murmured under my breath, "I swear to find whoever did this to you."

A promise made to the dead is sometimes stronger than one made to the living, they say.

That is why...

I can't let her down.

I pulled out my notebook from my pocket, straightened, and turned toward the main hall where Lassells was already waiting speaking to the guards and setting up the interrogation order.

There was fear in the air, a quiet suffocating fear. The guests and the servants moved like shadows, whispering to one another.

Whoever had done this had to among them.

I took a deep breath and started walking.

Let's begin.

The room we’d chosen for the interrogations was once the Countess’s reading chamber. A small room, with shelves of countless books. The curtains were drawn now, leaving the air heavy and gray. Only one chair stood at the center of the room, opposite a narrow desk where Lasells and I sat.

The first person on our list was the head butler, Millens.

The old butler stepped in, age estimatedly 55-60. He had a stiffness that came from both age and anxiety. His hands trembled slightly as he adjusted his spectacles, and his eyes, red and puffy, told me he hadn’t stopped crying since the morning.

"Please sit, Mr. Millens," I said quietly. He did, his posture straight, his grief tightly bound by decades of discipline.

I began.

"How long have you been in service to the Evermore family?"

He clasped his wrinkled hands together. "Forty-five years, sir. I have served since the time of the late Count Evermore. I witnessed the births of Lady Mary and Lady Bessie, and…" His voice faltered. "And now… I’ve seen the end of their mother."