LAPOCHKA, CROSS MY HEART.

It's Not My Vault

Nallya's P.O.V.

When our guests left, Illya went back to assembling his wooden plane in the library and Napoleon was probably looking for the paintings that were mentioned earlier. I couldn't blame the guy, all he wanted in his life was to steal art and have them or sell them. Atleast that's what Illya told me. The only thing Illya told me, actually. I got curious. I knew things about Illya but I didn't really know any about Napoleon. He seemed like a sophisticated version of money,lady,booze that you'd think is shallow enough to figure out. But it isn't easy. You can't tell if he's faking it or 99% of his personality is literally made out of sassy mouth and the remaining 1% his skills.

I walked around the manor to go find Napoleon, asking the butlers now and then if they've seen the eldest brother. None of them had, but I kind of knew from the beginning that he was just in the basement, figuring things out. My doubt made me do work for nothing.

I went back to the kitchen and came down the wine cellar. I recall the room having one of those barrels with a box on the lid where the tap was mounted on. It had a line down the middle unlike the rest and I figured it was something, but probably not an entrance to some secret lair or anything.

I walk to the very end of the room to find the exact barrel and check the structure. No super suspicious devices attched. I turned the tap on and wine poured out of it.

"Oh, not the shoes. Good one, Nallya."I cursed under my breath as the liquid splashed on my leg. I shake it off and stopped when the trickles came off, but my socks got soaked. Slowly removing my right shoe, I leaned on the barrel for balance. I successfully took it off  and passed it to my other hand. It hit the barrel as I went back to taking off my sock and that familiar hollow sound rang.

I put down my shoe-less foot, ignoring the wine soaking my sock thouroughly. I can always just wash it.

I knock on the barrel and it was all hollow, but it still poured wine.

I take out a tiny signal receptor from my jacket, scanning the cylinder from any but it wasn't detecting any technology.

"Come on, man. Do it for Napoleon. I just need to know things.." I whispered to the device that was clearly incapable of responding to me.

A few more inches, it started beeping on the tap.

"Please be a handle. Please be a handle"

I turn the tap to the right and the whole thing opens. The round lid getting seperated from the left half of the barrel and behind it a pipe that connected to the tap. It looked like it went through the other end of the barrel and to seperated stack of wine.

"Yay."

There was a staircase going down and it looked a bit dim. So I took out a flashlight and a gun before coming down.

The barrel closed and lights lining up the walls of a tunnel started turning on. It was almost endless. I looked back and there was nothing under the stairs.

I put my shoe on and start walking down the tunnel, occasionally looking back to see if there was anyone. When I finally reached an end, it was a vault. Not a regular vault. It has an ancient cryptex and a bunch of weird puzzles on one vault that looked straight out of a fictitious adventure novel. I was absorbed in the locks, I didn't notice Napoleon then on his knees trying to unlock them in his full black gear. His hair wasn't like how it was earlier. It was wet and a strand was out of its place and over his forehead. His eyebrows were knitted in focus and his eyes never leaving the bottom lock. That one looked normal.