The entire room had been turned upside down.
George and the others had come to the conclusion that whoever was responsible for the theft had to be somewhere within the house. Every conversation concerning the goblin had taken place here, with the sole exception of Trevor’s office, making the house the most obvious place to begin their search.
Not to talk about,the Governor had felt that so done has entered his office this morning.
So, the Governor’s suspicions had naturally fallen upon one particular boy, a boy whom George still regarded as good for nothing.
Yes, Bran had somehow gotten his hands on a demon recently, but George could not bring himself to believe that he was capable of carrying out a heist on such a scale.
Sneaking past the soldiers while transporting such a staggering amount of gold was far too risky. It would have required careful preparation, sufficient resources, and an elaborate plan.
Considering the discovery of the goblin had only been made two days ago, George found it difficult to believe that someone like Bran could have devised such a scheme and executed it flawlessly within that short span of time.
Unfortunately, George had already angered his father enough. Questioning his judgment any further would only make matters worse.
That was why he now stood in the middle of the room with two other soldiers, tearing through every possible hiding place in search of the stolen gold.
George drove his knife through the mattress, slicing through the stuffing and dragging the blade along its length. Nearby, the other two soldiers hammered against the floorboards and searched through the shelves, overturning anything that could possibly conceal the missing treasure.
Yet, as expected, their efforts yielded nothing.
Not a single plate was found.
After ruining practically every corner of the room, George finally exhaled a frustrated sigh and turned toward one of the soldiers.
"Go and tell him."
The soldier nodded before stepping out of the room.
George remained behind for a moment, resting his hands on his waist as his narrowed eyes swept across the wreckage.
Then, with a certain thought in mind, he left the room as well, but not following the soldier to outside.
He needed to check something.
....
"Tch."
Trevor clicked his tongue upon hearing what his mind kept insisting, yet his instincts still compelled him to make this decision.
"You found not a single gold coin in his room?" he asked again, though the soldier merely shook his head.
Trevor’s frown deepened as he turned his attention toward the brat.
"Where did you keep all those coins I gave you two days ago?"
Bran looked up with a faint hum, his expression carrying not even a trace of concern.
"And why should I tell you that?"
Trevor stepped closer to the table, his gaze fixed firmly upon the boy.
"You don’t have a vault in the guild, so you must have hidden that much money somewhere in this house. In your room."
He turned toward the soldier, who immediately confirmed his suspicion.
"I didn’t see any coins either, my lord."
Trevor’s gaze returned to Bran.
"So? Where did you hide them? Don’t tell me you somehow managed to spend all of that in just two days."
Bella could not bear to watch the confrontation continue and finally stepped in.
"You are just picking any excuse you can find to suspect him. It’s his money, he can do whatever he wants with it."
Trevor’s expression darkened.
"You have been speaking quite a lot these days, haven’t you? Do you think I would remain silent simply because you think I am guilty of what I did to you?"
Bella froze, her eyes widening at his words.
Screech.
The chair scraped sharply against the floor.
Bran rose to his feet.
Trevor immediately turned his attention toward him.
"Where did you hide it? I know you had a part in the heist."
Bran stared at him in cold silence. There was not a trace of emotion in his eyes, nor any hint of fear.
Trevor narrowed his eyes.
Perhaps the search for the demon had changed something within the boy. Whatever the reason, Trevor could clearly see what was lurking behind those emotionless eyes.
Bran wanted to kill him.
A low growl escaped Trevor’s throat as his hand curled into a tight fist.
"You dare..."
"Father."
George’s voice suddenly came from behind him.
Everyone turned toward him at once, including Laura and Venessa.
Then they saw what he was carrying.
Trevor’s eyes widened.
In George’s left hand was a small sack.
And in his right were the golden plates they had been desperately searching for.
"Where did you find them?" Trevor demanded, already prepared to swing his fist at Bran the moment George confirmed his suspicions.
But George’s answer stopped him cold.
"I found them in your room," he said, his voice devoid of warmth. "Deep inside the shelves, hidden from plain sight."
"!!!"
The soldiers and the legion commander standing in the corridor froze. Every other person in the house seemed to have been struck by the same realization, their eyes widening as they stared at the golden plates in George’s hand.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Meanwhile, Bran continued chewing on his meat as though none of this concerned him. It should have tasted salty, yet there was now a faint sweetness lingering on his tongue.
His eyes quietly settled on the Governor.
Let’s see how you recover from this, Governor.