Chapter 161

The slightest of gleams shone in Jeanne’s rose eyes. Alice arched a suspicious eyebrow at her. Given her expression, she didn’t understand what Jeanne was getting at, but she definitely had a bad feeling about it. Alice gulped down her saliva. Her voice trembled a little as she urged Jeanne to go on. “…What are you saying?” “I’m talking about repentance, hatred, and dreams. He probably apologized to you as he entrusted you with his dream. But really, that dream was nothing more than a bald-faced hatred toward the world. I mean, you cottoned on to that, right?” A flash of terror ran across Alice’s face. The tremendous power she wielded was the furthest thing from her mind, and she tried to clamp her hands over her ears. Before she could, though, Jeanne went on and whispered the thing that nobody else had pointed out. Her words gouged at that still-fresh wound. “He loved you, no doubt—but there wasn’t any love in that dyin’ wish of his.” “Off With Her Head!” Alice cast her spell, and an executioner’s ax appeared in midair. However, all it managed to lop off were a few tufts of Jeanne’s hair. Alice was so shaken it had affected her aim. She was quivering all over. Jeanne’s eyes flashed like jewels as she blinked them. She quietly went on. “That isn’t what love is.” “Shut up, just, just shut up already!” “Izabella, my beloved, held my hand. She didn’t shy away from my blood. She cried for me. She lamented my wounds. And if she was to die, then no matter how it happened, she would say one thing and one thing alone to me.” Jeanne looked down at her finger—and at the gleaming blue ring resting on it. With how dire the situation was, they hadn’t been able to get the real deal, and that was what she’d been given in the meantime. Jeanne planted a kiss on it and continued. “‘Go on and find happiness without me.’” “Stop it! Stop…stop…please, just stop…” “You had a curse placed on you. The dreams of the dying ain’t worth shit. They’re just burdens, weighing down the livin’. So why not just put a stop to all this? I mean, you go and smash up the whole world, and what’ll you really be left with?” Alice hunched over and began violently trembling. She looked around nervously. However, there was nobody to answer for her. For Alice was alone. She cried and cried and bit down hard on her lip. Then she shook her head and spat out her reply like one would a mouthful of blood. “I know that. I knew it already, I really did. But in their heart of hearts, everyone has just one thing that truly matters to them. If they can’t have that, then what can they have? I’m the only one who understands Father’s sorrow. So it’s fine. I’m not going to stop. This is my choice, and I’ve made it.” Alice violently wiped away her tears. She glared forward with all her might. Then, like a proper adult woman, she spoke plainly and definitively. “I choose to accept Father as he was.” Alice had decided to fulfill his wish. No longer would she hesitate, and no longer would she falter. In that moment, Alice accepted it all. She chose to affirm her father’s hatred, then made her final decision. And by doing so, she was spelling the world’s doom. It was a tragic path to choose, but the love that had inspired it was admirable. Someone she wished was alive had been killed. He had entrusted her with his dream. And she had accepted it, even knowing it was a curse. And thus, she hoisted up the flag of revenge—and chose to die alongside all of creation. Alice raised her hand to resume her attack. However, she spoke in an unthinkably gentle voice. “But still, thank you. I’ll remember what you told me until the very end.” “I see. Well, if you’re going to accept everything about your beloved, then I guess we ain’t got no choice but to kill each other.” “That’s right. And I’m sorry to say that it’s me who’ll be killing you.” There was a tinge of loneliness in Alice’s voice, but as she spoke, she continued making her move. She snapped her fingers. The White Knight did as instructed and brandished his lance. As a show of resistance, Jeanne summoned up eddies of golden flower petals and forged them into the most powerful shield she could muster. The White Knight fired his shock wave. Even at a glance, Jeanne could tell that she didn’t have the strength to block it. But all of a sudden, something changed. The White Knight’s shot went wide. Instead of hitting Jeanne, it went flying off into the distance. Jeanne squinted to try and figure out what had happened. When she realized the reason, she gasped. At some point, someone had wound a chain around the White Knight’s arm. Jeanne traced its silver length with her gaze. There on the other end, standing there like it was the most natural place in the world for her to be was Jeanne’s beloved, Izabella. Jeanne thought she was dreaming. But no. It was real. She had appeared like a prince out of a fairy tale, ready to show up when and wherever she was needed. That was simply how fantastical the woman Jeanne loved was. “What are you doing back here?! I thought I got your ass to safety!” However, Jeanne shouted all the same. Izabella blinked. The situation before them was downright hopeless, yet for some reason, Izabella scratched her cheek sheepishly like she didn’t have a care in the world. She replied in an awkward, almost bashful tone. “Maybe, but…isn’t it a husband’s job to come running when her wife is in trouble?” “What’re you on about, dumbass?! I’m not the wife; you’re the wife!” Jeanne cried at the top of her lungs. She wondered what in the world was going on. Both of them were being idiots, but as Jeanne saw it, Izabella’s actions were far more idiotic than hers. She should have known perfectly well that coming back would mean her death. But at the same time, there was something else Jeanne came to realize. No matter how many times she tried to push Izabella away, Izabella would just keep coming back. Why, she wouldn’t so much as give it a second thought. Her fair silver hair would stream behind her all the while, and the look in her blue and purple eyes would be one of bewilderment at the very prospect of staying away. But that all made perfect sense. That was just the kind of woman Izabella Vicker was. And that was precisely why Jeanne loved her so. Tears welled up in Jeanne’s eyes, and she clamped them shut. Then she gave up. And as she did, she nervously extended her hand. Earlier, even though she knew how impossible it was given the circumstances, she had dreamed of something beautiful. “Marriage!” “Of course! We’ll have a big ceremony in the Capital!” Now it was as though that dream were coming true, like they were having their wedding right then and there. Jeanne took her lover by the hand, and Izabella readily squeezed hers back. Golden flower petals decorated their surroundings like they would in a ceremonial hall. As she intertwined their fingers tight, Jeanne posed the question. “My beloved lady, will you stay by my side, in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, to love and to cherish—even if it means throwing your life away?” “It would be my pleasure,” Izabella replied, beaming. She puffed herself up with pride, like there was no other answer worth giving. Jeanne gave a teary-eyed smile. And with that, the two of them began their Waltz.