Crime and Tea (SigurdxReader AU)
genre: murder mystery, romance, comedy
âI hope you enjoy your stay, my lady.â Her butler bows slightly.
âI can already tell Iâll love it here; itâs so cozy!â Her eyes fail to commit to a single spot for longer than a second, excited to take in every detail of the small room.
âItâs rather humble in comparison to what youâve grown used to, but since the train is the only way to the kingdom of light, this was the best I could find. My apologies.â He bows once more.
Her eyebrows furrow, but before any light hearted response could escape her, she realizes the reason for Sigurdâs elevated formality. The door to her room is still open, and there were innocent passersby and gossiping eavesdroppers alike. All are within earshot and are equally likely to assume a suspicious relationship between her and her butler.
She clears her throat, âI suppose this will do. Youâre dismissed.â
Sigurd manages a small smile -one she happily returns- then bows and exists her room, not forgetting to slide her door shut.
(Y/N) huffs. She knows being so close to the royal family comes at a price, and it was worth it for the most part, but sometimes she wished she didnât have to try so hard not to be the topic of interest amongst people, especially not because of such âscandalâ. Sometimes she just wanted to spend time with Sigurd without it being âwrongâ.
âWell, thereâs always tea time, I suppose.â She smiles to herself.
In the meantime, (Y/N) seats herself by the window, patiently waiting for the scenery before her to change.
Shortly after she began losing interest in the repeating rows of trees rushing past the window, she hears a soft knock on the door.
âCome in.â She withholds her excitement in case the person behind the door isnât who she anticipates.
A grin forms on her face at the sight of the dark haired man. She could tell he barely held back a smile too, but he made sure to close the door first, giving them the closest thing to privacy they could get on a train.
âItâs time for your tea break, Miss Queenâs personal detective.â Sigurd grins, âI suppose this could count as a celebratory tea break too.â
âYes!!â She cheers, partially for her recruitment and partially just for hot tea and hot man. She was indeed a woman of simple needs.
The butler places a cup of hot green tea on the coffee table in front of her, âItâs the one you requested.â
Her face lights up; she clasps the warm cup, eager to take in a brew from a faraway land. She was ready to point out microscopic differences in the aroma and flavor of the tea, and Sigurd was ready to listen.
It may appear as a question, but Sigurd knew this was a request- an order even.
âAnything for you, my lady.â He seats himself opposite to her.
âYou know you can just say (Y/N), right? No one can hear us anyway.â The train had been enough of a nuisance to convince her it was impossible for anyone to overhear even if they tried.
âWell, arenât you my lady even if people arenât listening?â He gives an almost innocent smile. She knows that fucker did it on purpose.
The tea felt no hotter than her cheeks at the moment. âI- uh, wellâŚâ
Sigurd chuckles, âHowâs the tea?â
âOh, the tea!â Relief and excitement lead the way, âThe smell is already so relaxing!â
âIndeed, it is.â His words accidentally seemed sarcastic, considering he picks that moment to pour himself some coffee.
She pays him no mind and finally takes her first sip. She takes a few moments to analyze the novel taste, âI love it!â
âReally?â Sigurd encourages a more detailed answer.
âItâs very different from what Iâm used to; it doesnât even taste like green tea, but itâs good.â She takes another sip.
âI wonder if itâs a mistranslationâŚâ Sigurd takes a sip of his coffee.
âHmmâŚI suppose it could be.â She ponders for a moment then shrugs, âYou should try it anyway; itâs good.â
(Y/N) slides the cup towards him, and he gently picks up the ceramic floral cup almost like gripping it too much would break it. Well, the contrast between the size of the cup and the size of his hands made it very feasible.
She catches herself smiling at the thought and immediately tries to bring her attention back to the tea; the blush creeping up on her is obviously nonexistent, and she wonât acknowledge it.
âIt really does taste nice. The flavor isnât as bitter as usual green tea, which I like.â
âDonât you like coffee?â
âWell, coffee makes bitterness taste better than green tea does; sue me.â He flicks his wrist dismissively.
She giggles, âI think youâre just biased.â
âMe? Iâm never biased.â
âThatâs a lie.â She smirks.
He observes her features for a few seconds before choosing violence. Or choosing to embarrass her- same thing, really.
âYouâre right. I am biased sometimes- mostly when it comes to a certain person.â He waits for the flustered expression he adores so much.
There it is. He doesnât prevent the smugness from showing on his face.
âYou sound especially flirty today.â She mumbles, avoiding eye contact.
âHmm?â She isnât about to repeat herself, but he chooses to play dumb still.
âNothing.â She sips her tea, âI heard Prince Caesarâs wedding was called off.â
As innocent as the statement sounds, Sigurd has gotten used to her subtle ways of asking for more information. Gossip is an integral part of tea breaks, after all.
His smile widens, âIt was.â
She traces the rim of the now empty cup, âWhyâs that?â
A sly aura surrounds the handsome man before her, as he leans in closer. His voice quieter than a whisper, he warns, âYouâve merely heard of this from the talk around town, and itâs not from a reliable sourceâŚâ
âIâve only heard of the wedding cancellation; thatâs all I know.â Smiling, she assures her butler he wonât be getting executed for spreading this private information outside the palace. Well, not because of her at least.
She shudders at the image of Sigurdâs head rolling away from the guillotine for sharing the palaceâs secrets, but she anticipates his next statement anyway.
âGood girl.â He whispers.
She instinctively pulls away from him, blushing furiously. The implications behind the simple words were glaringly obvious to her, yet he maintained the calm, innocent smile. Was she the one misinterpreting his signals? No, heâs certainly messing with her on purpose.
âWell, if you stay all the way over there, people might hear, and this is top secret.â He beckons for her to come closer to him; she hesitantly complies.
âThe wedding was called off simply becauseâŚâ Sigurd pauses for dramatic effect, as he does, âthe groom wasnât there.â
âWhat?!â She gasps, pulling away from him in shock, âIs he missing? Are they searching for him?â
Sigurd smirks. This is one of the main reasons he loves bringing her all the gossip: her reactions. He enjoys all her cute expressions and shocked remarks.
âWell, not exactly.â He pulls her by her arm, bringing his lips back to her ear, âPrince Caesar wasnât kidnapped; rather, he was robbed.â
âRobbed?â She furrows her eyebrows, her head tilted towards Sigurd as if the answer would be written on his face.
âOf his heart, yes.â He pouts, pressing a palm to his chest.
Her eyes widen, âHe was having an affai-â
Sigurdâs hand flies over her mouth, âSsshh! Youâre too loud!â he lets out a light laugh.
Just when she thought that was the most shocking part, Sigurd leans back in with the rest of his story.
âSo, on the night before the wedding, he took off with his lover- who, by the way, is suspected to be a lowborn, but no one is fully sure of his identity yet.â Sigurd spills the rest of the details, âAnd thatâs why the wedding had to be called off, but since the king and queen are ashamed their son took off with a lower class man, they donât know if theyâll even call for an investigation to try to find him. I doubt the prince would come back on his own either.â
Her hand remains covering her gaping mouth, âIs this really the right time to visit the queen?â
âWell, they havenât retracted their invitation, soo⌠would be a bit rude not to show up.â He shrugs, âPlus, at least weâll go to the festival you wanted to visit for a while now.â
âYouâre right; I canât wait.â Her attention temporarily shifted from Prince Caesar; however, she couldnât help but wonder how heâs doing. Sheâs never met him before, but she heard heâs a kind soul. âStill, I hope the prince is safe and happy with his lover.â She sighs.
âI trust the prince has a good survival plan.â He smiles reassuringly.
She opens her mouth to respond, but loud screams freeze time for a few seconds, as they try to make sense of it. âWhat was that?â she croaks.
âI- I donât know.â His troubled expression fails to ease her nerves.
âWe have to check.â She rushes towards the door, but Sigurd grips her arm.
âStay behind me.â His pleading eyes bore into her, âPlease.â
She doesnât argue; she wanted to get to the source of the screams as soon as possible, even if it meant she doesnât insist she can safely lead the way, and that sheâs capable of taking care of herself. It wasnât the time.
He takes a deep breath before carefully sliding the door open. He peeks outside, making sure itâs safe for them to walk out. âStay close.â He instructs.
She almost pushes past him impatiently, but she forces herself to nod and match Sigurdâs -too slow for her liking- pace.
âSigurd, youâre too slow.â She hisses.
âIâm sorry I donât want us to be ambushed.â He retorts.
âDo you wanna make it to the front page for being the rudest butler?â
âI wonât let the fame get to my head; donât you worry.â
She was once again interrupted before mustering a reply. âWait.â Sigurdâs arm barricades the path to the next cart, aka the source of the screams.
âWhat is it?â She stands on the tip of her toes, trying to take a peek past his shoulders.
âA body.â He slowly allows her through.
âAâŚbody..?â Her eyes frantically scan the scene in front of her.
âEveryone move out the way; this is an order.â She whips out her badge, showing it the circle of people who slowly make way for her.
The newly promoted detective squats down next to the body, silently cursing this new position that lead her to a murder case in less than a day.
Something catches her attention, and she tugs on the unconscious manâs unbuttoned collar, revealing bruises around his neck. âHe was strangledâŚâ She states.
âNone of you saw anything?â She turns to face the crowd, only now noticing a bunch of familiar faces among them.
âThe lights went out; no one could see anything.â One of said familiar faces speaks quietly.
âGu- Er..Sir Brighton,â The formality tasted weird in her mouth, since the two were close friends, but she pushes through, âthe lights seemed to be fine in my room; was it only this cart?â
Another joins in, âMy room was fine too. It seems the murderer knew what they were doing.â Luca, one of the very known noblemen, walks closer to the body casually. She saw through his cool attitude; this man is thrilled to be witnessing a murder. She cringes.
âHe could still be alive.â A blonde man steps closer, âCan I check?â
The man is certainly a Goldstein, but she couldnât quite tell which of the brothers. Regardless, theyâre all well versed in medicine, so she had no problem trusting any of them.
âYes, please.â Her next step had been finding a doctor for that exact reason, but the doctor seemed to find her first.
âIâm sorry, Miss Hart, but I donât think he made itâŚâ The blonde apologizes and steps back, a grim look on his face.
âTook you no time at all, Goldstein.â Luca interjects, âAlmost like you already knew heâs dead.â
There was no point in considering the possibility; Luca Orlemâs hobbies consist mainly of flattering and disturbing anything that breathes- that includes accusing his friend of murder for fun of course.
On the bright side, she now knows which Goldstein this is (by relying on Sigurdâs description of their relationship)
âShut up, Orlem.â Elias mutters.
âWell, heâs not entirely wrong; everyone here is a suspect.â A man spoke, âEven you, Miss Hart.â It may have been disgust or just distrust, but the way he spoke brought everyone at least some discomfort. But he was right.
âYouâre right.â She replies quietly, glancing at her butler near the door. Heâs the only one, apart from herself of course, that she could confirm wasnât near the body when it happened.
Her train of thoughts was cut off when she noticed he was frantically trying to tell her something.
Azusa Kuze!!, Sigurd mouths while aggressively pointing at the man.
Azusa Kuze?! Her eyes widen. Did the case just solve itself by this manâs presence? No, sheâs a professional. She wonât make assumptions; he may be a very shady individual with a couple of accusations pointing right at him to no avail, but that doesnât make him the murderer. Not yet at least.
She will, however, keep her eye on him.
She mouths a thank you to her butler before redirecting her attention to the body.
âNobody touch or move the body.â She orders, âAnyone that does as much as come near the body will be convicted for tampering with evidence.â
She stands up, âAs Mr. Kuze stated previously, everyone here is a suspect; therefore, for your own safety, donât put too much trust in your surroundings and avoid being isolated from the crowds. Iâll send someone to guard the electric-â
The lights went out before she could send someone to make sure it doesnât happen again.
Fear spread like wildfire: screams and rushing footsteps (loud enough to cover up another murder) took over the cart.
âStop! everybody stay quiet and stay still!â She yells sternly, but no matter how many times she yells for them to quit making it easy for the culprit, her voice was drowned out by all the fearful passengers.
It couldnât have been longer than like 30 seconds, but the desperation and fear stretched these seconds to minutes, and in her mind, this was enough time for more victims or even an escape- what is she gonna do?! She might as well just bury herself alive right this second and be forever remembered as the failure of a detective she is.
The light coming back almost suffocated her; she wanted to feel relieved, but she was scared to see the aftermath of her incompetence.
Nervously, she begins scanning the now awfully quiet cart; everyone is collectively holding their breath, searching for the new body.
âEveryoneâs aliveâŚ?â Uncertainty kept her voice a whisper.
âSeems like it.â Guy responds.
She almost lets out a sigh of relief.
âWhereâs the body?â A man bursts into the cart.
âZeus, can we not do this?â A dark haired man follows behind.
She recognized the two problems approaching her, but a bigger, far more serious problem stuck out like a sore thumb. Where is the body?
Her eyes scan the crowd circling her for the missing culprit, but everyone was right there- Azusa Kuze included. It wasnât enough time for someone to leave the cart, hide the body, and come back; this served as proof there may be more than one criminal on board after all.
âMr. Curtis, please go make sure nobody manages to mess with the power again- quick before they do it again.â She orders, âNo one else enters or leaves this cart; this includes you Mr. Brundle and, of course, your butler.â
Sigurd bows before exiting the cart.
âYou canât tell me what to do!â Zeus steps forward.
She raises her badge, âAs a matter of fact, I can. Unless youâd like to be the main suspect on a murder case.â
âMain suspect?! I wasnât even here for it!â
âDo you have any proof?â She raises an eyebrow and awaits his response or rather the lack thereof.
âHiro was with me; we were at the bar.â He crosses his arm, âAnd Iâd like to go back, since there is no body after all.â
His butler rolls his eyes, âYouâll get us beheaded, Brundle; letâs just wait till this is over.â He drags Zeus to the side.
âNo- I donât- ugh- fine.â Everyone watches as Zeus slowly gives in.
Nada turns around to face the other side, âNowâŚI wanna hear everybodyâs alibi.â
She points to the person on her far right, âYou. Where were you before and during the power outage?â
He wasnât someone she recognizes, and she wished Sigurd was here to help guide her with his unending knowledge of everybodyâs backstory, but here she was anyway.
âJustâŚsitting hereâŚâ The man spoke quietly.
Right. Itâs a train; everyone can just say that. What was she expecting?
âDid you notice anyone suspicious?â
His eyes- well, eye, technically, considering the other was covered by an eye patch- shift towards Luca, âNoâŚâ He mumbles, looking back at the detective.
His hesitation hadnât escaped her.
âWell, did you notice any strange behavior by MrâŚâ she trails off.
âQing. Mr. Qing.â Azusa finishes her sentence.
âYeah, Mr. Qing, did you notice him acting a little strange?â
âI donât know him, so I suppose not.â
âYou claim to have just been sitting there, yet youâve noticed absolutely nothing in your surroundings.â She knew it was entirely possible, but for now, everyone is a suspect, and she was to treat it that way. Plus, sheâd learned it firsthand that people are a lot more likely to throw others under the bus if they think it keeps others from pointing fingers at them.
His stare was the most blank sheâd ever seen, âYes.â
âCan anyone confirm you never left your seat?â
âYes, I was with Yukiya the whole time.â The Goldstein interjects.
âIt wasnât your turn to speak, Mr. Goldstein.â
âSorry.â His head hangs low.
Her gaze shifts back to Yukiya- his permanently blank stare unchanged.
Her vision slowly pans over to the next suspect. Vincent Knight. Heâs a pretty famous merchant; his presence made the most sense to her, since the festival brought all types of buyers and sellers to the kingdom of Light. Heâs more likely not the culprit, but she has to be sure.
âMr. Knight.â She directs his attention to her.
âMiss Hart.â His flirtatious gaze brings color to her cheeks.
She clears her throat, âWhat were you doing before and during the power outage?â
âI was asleep.â He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.
âYou were also right next to GlennâŚâ A familiar voice mumbles. Joel Crawford. She knew Joel since childhood, and he wasnât one to start a fight, so his accusation came as a bit of a shock to her.
âWhat are you trying to say, kid?â Annoyance displayed itself openly on his features.
âIâm saying youâre too calm for someone whose friend just got murdered.â
âAnd that makes me a murderer?!â His voice got louder.
âHey!â She needed to regain control over the situation, âNo one is accusing anyone; weâre all on the same team here.â
âIâd say itâs quite the opposite, really. I donât trust any of you.â Zeus seemed to find this the best moment to share his totally asked for opinion.
âOh, but youâre so trustworthy.â Azusa replies sarcastically.
âYou wanna say that again, fuckface?!â Before Zeus could reach his target, his butler drags him by his arm further away.
Before Azusa could test Zeusâs willingness to cooperate with his butler, there was another power outage.
Fear struck (Y/N)âs heart. Is Sigurd okay? Did the murderer(s) get to him?
No, she has to focus- keep everyone safe. Sigurd will be fine.
However, even more so than last time, screams and footsteps cover up the sound of all possible crimes, and nothing she says changes anything.
Her eyes water helplessly. Someone is gonna die, and she canât stop it.
âVincent!â A woman screams.
(Y/N)âs heart felt heavy in her chest. She failed to save another person, and unless she finds the culprit, there could be more to come.
âEveryone, stay back!â She approaches the body. Why did the method change this time? Why was he stabbed rather than choked to death? Was the murderer trying to be quicker? Were they getting less confident in their abilities? Doesnât that mean Vincent could still be alive? It hasnât been long enough for him to bleed to death, butâŚ
Her eyes told a different story. There he was, very much dead.
Still, after silently observing his lifeless face, she turns to the professional, âMr. Goldstein?â
He nods and rushes to her side.
He eagerly checks for any signs of life, alas, he shakes his head. âWe lost him.â
What? This makes no sense.
Who was his partner in crime? Luca Orlem? Is his dislike for the charismatic nobleman a trick to repel suspicions?
Just then, her eyes fell on an item in Vincentâs open bag.
If he had a flashlight all this time, why didnât he use it?
Nada grabs the flashlight. Thereâs no way he had a working flashlight in his bag, right?
However, with a simple click, a beam of light circles Elias.
Why didnât he use it? Itâs almost like he was trying to get murdered!
Nada pulls out a shotgun and aims it at Vincent.
âW-what are you doing?!â His accomplice leaps in front of him.
âStep aside, Goldstein, youâll get your turn after.â
Luca takes a seemingly hesitant step forward, âButâŚheâs already dead; why waste a bullet?â
Ha! Theyâre telling on themselves at this point.
âStep aside, both of you. Unless you wanna get shot.â She warns.
âPlease, put the gun down; heâs dead. Why do you wanna shoot him?â Elias pleads.
Nada sighs before forcefully pushing past the two equally guilty men. She was gonna deal with them, but she had to prove her theory first.
âThereâs no reason this man would have a flashlight and not use it, unlessâŚâ She grabs his hair, lifting his head up to face her.
âUnlessâŚ?â Zeus asks.
She presses her gun below his chin. âUnless he doesnât want the killer to get caught.â
âWhy would he help the killer?â Hiro stared at her like she was insane, but so did everyone else.
âBecause this is not a murderâŚthis is an escape.â She cocks her gun.
His eyes shoot open, âPleaseâ he breathes out.
She grabs him by his collar, pulling him into a chokehold and turning to face the other two.
âGet down.â She points her gun at Vincentâs head. Luca and Elias comply.
âMiss Hart, please, let me explain.â Eliasâs voice was shaky.
Everyone was frozen in place until Zeus seemed to break free from the trance. âAre you guys insane?! Tell her the truth! Now!â
This time, she was ready. She pushes Vincent to the ground and shines the flashlight at the 3 culprits.
Thatâs when she saw it. The door to the cart Zeus and his butler came through was opening ever so slowly. Nada aims her gun at the entrance.
Sigurd walks in, holding a cake.
âOh, dear, what happened?â He chuckles nervously.
âSurprise?â Vincent hesitantly pushes himself off the floor, followed by Elias and Luca.
âCongrats on the recruitment.â Joel punches her shoulder lightly.
âYeah, weâre all happy for you.â Glenn peeks through the open door with a smile. Heâs alive?
âWe really got you good, huh?â Zeus laughs.
âShouldâve seen your face!â Hiro adds.
âWas this all a prank?â
âDamn, you really are slow; letâs eat cake!â Zeus approaches Sigurd.
âI still canât believe you planned all of this.â Nada sheepishly takes a bite out of her cake, âI really thought people were dying; I thought you died!â
Sigurd chuckles. âWorry not, my lady,â He brings her hand to his lips, âIâll always be here by your side.â
âI- of course you will! Itâs your job!â She pulls her hand back in embarrassment.
âYes, yes, it is.â He smirks, âBut, I wanna be by your side in other ways too.â
Sigurd leans into her, his hot breath on her neck, âIâll show you when we get to the hotel; how about it, hmm?â
âI- yes, sounds good!â She pushes him away shyly.
Yet on the inside, she couldnât wait to get to that hotelâŚ