frightfiction Chapter 797 - 438: Fernando
Chapter 797 - 438: Fernando
Louis reached out and pushed open the oak door, the hinge letting out a low groan.
Varius stood inside, clutching a pen tightly. It wasn’t a particularly splendid object, but in his eyes, it was heavier than any scepter.
"Lord Louis, I will not let you down," he said softly, his voice still slightly strained as he bowed deeply to Louis.
Louis said nothing more, only nodding slightly.
Varius turned and left.
His figure disappeared at the end of the corridor, exceptionally resolute.
"Clack." The door slowly closed behind him.
Almost at the same moment, the nearly mentor-like solemnity on Louis’s face completely faded away.
He raised his hand to rub his forehead, as if finally releasing a string that had been taut for a long time.
"Phew..." A long breath escaped.
He turned and walked back to the table, picked up the cup of tea that had long since gone cold, and drank a sip without hesitation.
The bitterness exploded at the back of his tongue.
Louis frowned slightly, but didn’t put down the cup, sipping again, as if pulling himself back to reality this way.
The gentleness and guidance in his eyes disappeared, replaced by familiar calculations and an unmistakable exhaustion.
Just then, Bradley entered silently.
His movements were swift, with no unnecessary pleasantries, as he walked straight to the table, gathering the draft of the legislative proposal that had been spread out earlier and placing it into the marked folder.
Immediately, he opened another file box and spread out a few new dossiers.
On the parchment were coastal routes, port draft lines, dock structure diagrams, and densely packed shipbuilding data.
Louis placed the empty cup back on the table, his voice returning to its usual calm: "Who’s next?"
Bradley glanced at the itinerary in his hand: "Orland Fernan, former chief shipbuilder of the Southeast Province, also a veteran from your grandfather’s era."
Bradley paused for a moment, then added: "He’s been standing at the door for half an hour. He seems very nervous."
Louis’s gaze fell on the sea chart on the table for a moment, then he nodded lightly: "Let him in."
The oak door was pushed open once more, and Orland came in.
His hair was gray, yet meticulously maintained, with not a strand out of place following the hairline closely against his scalp.
He wore a dark purple velvet formal suit, with a cut from twenty years ago. There were slight frays at the cuffs and elbows, but after thorough cleaning, it still remained dignified.
Most conspicuous was an antique badge pinned to his chest.
The Calvin Clan’s emblem.
The silver base was oxidized and blackened, with tiny chips along the edges, evidently a relic brought forward from the old days, not a recent replica.
Orland stopped five steps from the desk, executing an impeccably standard and slightly exaggerated subordinate’s salute.
He bent slightly, his knees noticeably sinking, positioning himself extremely low.
"Master Louis..." he began, his voice slightly trembling, "... No, Lord."
"Seeing your achievements today, even if I died this moment, I could finally face the old Duke. God bless the Calvin family."
Orland lifted his head, his eyes slightly reddened, his tone carrying a perfect blend of excitement and choking.
Even so, it was their first meeting.
As his words fell, the room fell silent for a brief moment.
Louis’s gaze brushed over the badge on Orland’s chest, his mind already making a judgment.
The badge had most likely been hidden at the bottom of a box for thirty years.
Taken out, polished, and pinned to his chest today, it was a statement in itself.
You are of the Calvin family, I once served this family.
A reminder of his credentials, and an implication of past merits.
But Louis did not expose it, for the act was well performed, and he needed such a character.
Louis immediately went around the desk, striding to the old man and offering a supportive hand.
"Please rise, Mr. Orland." His tone was gentle and assured, without a hint of perfunctoriness, "You are a legendary figure from my grandfather’s time, and also my elder."
At the moment these words fell, a noticeable tension in Orland’s eyes loosened slightly.
Louis did not give him the opportunity to express further, and personally pulled out a chair for him: "Please, have a seat."
Soon, the attendant brought in hot tea.
Not just any beverage, but the finest within the Red Tide.
As the tea was poured, steam rose, instantly adding a warm fragrance to the room.
"The journey was long, you have my gratitude."
After Orland sat down, his hands naturally rested on his knees, first glancing down at the teacup, then subtly studying Louis’s expression out of the corner of his eye.
When he confirmed that the young Lord indeed cherished the past and held a sincere attitude, his previously slightly stooped back straightened imperceptibly.
His expression transitioned from previous excitement to a measured kindness.
"Thank you, Lord, for your concern." Only then did Orland look up, his hands on his knees slightly tightening, but no longer as humble as when he first entered.
"The journey was indeed long, but... I still manage." He chuckled lightly, "To see you with my own eyes, that little effort is nothing."
Louis did not respond immediately, simply observing the subtle changes in the old man’s face.
"With your skill," Louis remarked as if casually chatting, "you should have been in the chief engineer’s position of the Southeast Province. How did you end up being hunted?"