♡ TL: Khadija SK
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After Theodore tasked Umberto with investigating the publishing house and the translator listed on the banned books list, Umberto set to work with earnest determination.
That same day, he met with the publisher and conveyed Theodore’s concern:
“If you’re placed on the banned books list, you won’t be able to publish in this country for a while. Nor will you avoid the intellectual inquiry. It’d be best to step away for some time.”
The publisher believed Umberto’s words.
It was so startling that Umberto wondered, “Why would he trust me from our very first meeting?”
Later, he learned the reason for the man’s swift cooperation.
The business card Umberto had presented bore the Bernier family crest.
Such was the immense influence of the Duke Bernier’s lineage.
Yet even this power couldn’t achieve everything.
“Yes.”
“Even after we said we’d protect him?”
“Yes. One might think for a moment that the translator was his own son. He seemed terrified we’d harm him, so he concealed his identity with utmost care.”
It was suspicious that a publisher, concerned for his own safety, would be more cautious about divulging the translator’s information than his own.
“Does he have one?”
The question was about children.
Regrettably, the publisher had none.
At sixty-five, he and his wife had tried tirelessly in their youth to no avail, left without an heir.
“No, he doesn’t. So I thought, could the issue lie with the translator himself?”
“What kind of issue?”
“Someone whose identity mustn’t be revealed?”
“And why?”
“Perhaps a dangerous criminal?”
Theodore clicked his tongue.
It was a ridiculous notion.
A dangerous criminal would imply a lack of educational opportunities. Consequently, their depth of thought would be limited.
But to translate a philosophical book from Latin? That was impossible.
“Why? Don’t you think my idea holds water?”
Theodore didn’t respond.
He had no time to indulge in trivial banter with Umberto.
Hazel’s last expression as he’d held her, the touch of her hand, refused to leave his mind.
***
The publishing house was on the third floor of a cheaply rented building, not far from the printing district.
The cramped office contained two desks and a round guest table, and wherever one turned, there were books.
Theodore’s eyes fell on a sagging bookshelf.
It was proof of books so numerous they’d overburdened the sturdy paulownia wood shelf.
Theodore sat at the empty desk, watching the suspended dust settle slowly.
After a moment, the office door opened, and a man with thick white hair entered.
He froze in surprise upon seeing a visitor in his office.
Theodore rose from the chair with a courteous smile, elegantly fastening his coat buttons.
“Greetings, I am Theodore Caron Bernier.”
“Oh, Your Grace? Has the appointment time come already…?”
Theodore stopped the man, who fumbled to check the time in his confusion.
“No, I arrived early. I apologize for entering your office without permission.”
“Oh, don’t say that. I leave the place open for anyone to come and rest. Please, sit. Ah! I haven’t introduced myself yet. I’m Fabry Jean, manager of Nemo Publishing House.”
Theodore extended his hand.
Fabry rubbed his palms on his clothes several times before shaking it warmly.
Theodore’s gaze followed Fabry’s naturally wrinkled hand up to his ink-stained sleeve cover, a testament to his diligence.
Theodore released his hand and sat on the sofa.
Fabry offered him tea.
Theodore had no particular desire to drink, but refusal would be impolite, so he accepted.
Fabry stepped behind the bookshelf opposite the door.
“They’ve divided the office with a bookshelf. I hope you don’t mind.”
Umberto said, sitting beside Theodore. Theodore nodded indifferently.
Soon, Fabry returned from behind the shelf, carrying a tray with three teacups and a pot, placing it on the table.
Beside the pot was a yellow dish holding sugar cubes.
Everything—from the cups to the yellow dish—seemed out of place amid the office’s simplicity.
They were decorative rather than practical, better suited to a noble family’s drawing room than this space.
Given the publishing house’s circumstances, these items appeared excessively lavish.
As Theodore’s gaze lingered on the cup, Fabry laughed heartily.
“Hahaha, they don’t fit me, do they? They’re a gift I received. You noticed right away. You must be wondering where they came from? Oh… um… anyway, they’re from abroad.”
“Whoever gave them to you has refined taste. It means they value you highly. These aren’t things easily obtained.”
Fabry grinned wide at Theodore’s remark.
“In truth, it’s from someone I cherish deeply.”
“That’s evident.”
Theodore replied with a calm smile.
Fabry had impressed Theodore.
Judging someone after a fleeting glance might seem superficial, but it was possible thanks to observing the space he inhabited.
His passion for books, his contemplation of knowledge, his simplicity, and his diligence filled the office.
Thus, Theodore wanted to converse with him further.
But Fabry suddenly sharpened his features and broached the main topic:
“So, regarding that matter, I can’t tell you the translator’s identity.”
Theodore’s fingertips trembled slightly as he set down the teacup. Yet he placed it quietly, without a sound, as if nothing had happened, then met Fabry’s eyes.
“May I ask why?”
“Because that’s what the translator wants.”
“Even if he doesn’t, his identity will be uncovered sooner or later. Didn’t you hear from Umberto? The banned books list is being restructured, and the book translated by the person you’re protecting will be on it. Who’ll take responsibility then?”
“Well, I…”
“No. The target of this restructuring is the translator himself. I looked into it, and it turns out the books he’s translated aren’t just one or two. He hasn’t worked solely with Nemo Publishing. There are many others stirring the nobles’ ire too.”
There were multiple books by this translator, though not enough to land on the banned list before.
“It won’t stay hidden just because you conceal it, Mr. Fabry. Once the banned books list is announced, it’ll be too late. So tell me.”
Fabry lowered his head deeply. He remained silent for a long while.
“Why?”
Unsure how much time had passed, but as the tea grew nearly cold, Fabry asked:
“What are you asking about?”
“I’m curious why you want to know the translator’s identity in advance.”
“Because I need to protect him.”
“But why you, Your Grace? Honestly, when your assistant came, I was so shocked I believed him without hesitation, but it felt a bit strange. The banned books list is set every year—how many publishers have faced ruin because of it?”
“I feel sorry about that.”
“No, I’m not saying this for sympathy. I’m just curious. Why did you decide to protect us now?”
“Because I didn’t know then, and now I do. I couldn’t do it then, but now I can. I want to do what I’m able—why question that?”
“Because you, Your Grace…”
“Because I’m a noble?”
Theodore lowered his brows and lifted his lips.
It was an enigmatic expression, a blend of a smile and a frown.
“Mr. Fabry, do you know? In the book from your publishing house listed on the banned books list, it’s said there’s no difference between nobles and commoners. That nobles drawing a line to separate themselves and viewing others differently is wrong. Do you agree with that content?”
“I-Is this an i-investigation?”
“A personal question.”
Fabry took a deep breath.
“That’s why I published it, of course. I knew it’d spark controversy.”
“But just now, you did what the writer criticizes. You judged me based on your biases against nobles. You doubted my good intentions.”
Fabry’s muscles stiffened. Theodore’s words were precise.
“Regardless of whether I’m a noble or not, I only want to protect an excellent publisher and a distinguished translator. If you ever feel you can trust me, contact me. We don’t have much time. The banned books list will be announced within a month.”
Theodore rose from his seat.
He left first, then Umberto handed Fabry a postbox address.
“If reaching the ducal family directly feels burdensome, send whatever you wish here. And if you need help, don’t hesitate.”
Fabry stared in confusion between the departing Umberto and the postbox address he’d been given.
“But I truly can’t reveal the identity, ever…”
Fabry’s anxiety deepened.
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