Chapter 127

It’s some sort of binding spell. It switches back and forth between the two of them, with the brooch acting as a medium. “Farewell, Sister… Be careful.” “I will. Wait for me, Lira.” “You don’t have to come back, you know.” Lira laughs, then her tone changes. “You really don’t. You can leave me here, pretend you’ve lost your memories, and live as Viola Revanche…or someone entirely different. Lira Revanche is the one who sold demon snuff—me.” “The same goes for you. What’s the matter? Why bring this up now, after all this time?” “Because this is bound to be your last chance. I’m sure I’ll be killed, like Father and Mother!” Lira shrieks, covering her face with her hands. “He’s even struck the empress’s man. There’s no way to excuse that. But people think you’re dead. If you run now, I’m sure you’ll make it. I told you where the money we’ve saved up is hidden, remember? Take that with you and start a new life.” “Lira.” “Please, Sister, leave me and go. I wish you’d done it earlier! If I hadn’t stubbornly clung to that dream of the two of us running away together and being free, this never would have— I even knew how he worked! I knew he’d let us hold on to our hope of leaving together and bind us!” “I can’t. You know I could never do that.” The two embrace, their faces mirror images of each other. “Then let me say the same to you: Give me back the brooch, leave me here, and run. I’m the one who can make demon snuff, so I’m the one he wants. Plus, I’m the reason you soiled your hands by making you sell it. I’ve told you so over and over, yet here you are, saying this sort of thing to me?” “But, Sister, if nothing changes—” “I know. Getting him involved in this has made you uneasy, hasn’t it.” In her sister’s arms, Lira gives a little nod. “I knew I should have refused that marriage interview right from the start. It’s not as if we never considered the possibility that he might be disposed of right along with me.” “But he’s the empress’s man. They won’t be so quick to harm him. Besides, the empress might have noticed something and sent him to us herself. I was the one who convinced you to wait and watch how things played out. You only helped me with my scheme; none of this is your fault.” “No, that’s not all it was. I went along with it because you said that, Sister. I thought I could go on normal dates with him, just for a little while. I was such a fool!” Walt grits his teeth, fighting the urge to sit up and tell her everything will be all right. “It’s all right, Lira. I have a good idea. Trust me and wait, won’t you?” The girl strokes her sister’s hair. Lira looks up. “What do you plan to do?” “I’m sure that man is a magician. He’ll save you.” As Viola points at Walt, their eyes meet squarely. She’s realized he’s awake. That mischievous smile makes her look like a fairy through and through, and it makes him want to click his tongue in irritation. Argh. Seriously, Kyle’s eyes really are knotholes. What an ill-natured fairy. “After all, he’s the same as the magician I met. His wounds healed up right away.” “That was just from the demon snuff antidote.” “Do you think so? Still, I’m sure it’s destiny. That’s a much nicer thing to believe, isn’t it?” With a remark that sounds very much like something a fairy would say, Viola gently kisses Lira’s cheek. “It’s going to be fine. Depending on the effect Uncle’s appeal to the empress at the opera has, there’s still hope.” She smiles. Timidly, Lira nods. “That…that’s true. So if we can just manage to save this man, we may yet…” “Once he wakes, talk it over with him.” “Uncle doesn’t know about the antidote, so my plan is to tell him to pretend he’s become addicted to demon snuff, then run away.” This time, Viola nods firmly. “That’s good. There may be a duplicate key to that grate; I’ll try to search the mansion for it.” “Be very careful, Sister. Don’t let the servants notice.” The pair exchange smiles, putting on a brave front, and then they part. For a little while, Lira watches the door her sister has disappeared through in silence. Slowly, trying not to startle her, Walt sits up. “So that was your older sister…Viola Revanche?” Shocked, Lira turns toward him, and the chain clanks. Pretending he hasn’t heard it, Walt forces a smile. “Acting on Count Revanche’s orders, your sister made demon snuff, you sold it, and the whole mansion’s been covering it up. Do I have that right?” “……” “Did Count Revanche give you those wounds?” Looking down and away, Lira answers shortly, “If you overheard us, you already know everything.” “I don’t know about your parents’ deaths yet, though.” Lira’s eyes widen. The hope and despair he sees in them make Walt want to embrace her, but he can’t. His wrists are still bound, for one thing. For another, he’s the demon king’s guard, and he can’t do anything like that until the whole matter is resolved. “Do you think you could tell me everything? Start to finish?” How old was Viola Revanche when she learned that demon snuff was evil? It was a game at first. Her kind uncle had always brought enough sweet treats and toys for both her and her sister, and he’d shown her a recipe, saying it was a secret. Smiling, he’d told her it was a very difficult thing and couldn’t be made…so she decided to surprise him. That was all. Viola’s memory was good, if she did say so herself, and she was very interested in the pharmaceutical sciences. She’d had only a brief glimpse of the recipe, but she memorized it, and although she wasn’t familiar with most of the ingredients, she and her twin thought of potential substitutes, which they searched for. After much trial and error, they secretly took what they’d made to show their uncle. They’d never dreamt that childish game would be the beginning of their hell. The Revanche fief had always been hard-pressed for money. Their good-natured parents weren’t skilled at arithmetic, and they never doubted anyone. In hindsight, Viola’s uncle had also probably exacerbated the situation. Since crops had been poor for several harvests, they lowered taxes on their people and then coughed up their own savings. Lira was clever, and she’d pulled out the accounting books and pointed out various errors to help her parents, but they refused to listen to a child. So when their uncle offered financial assistance, they left everything in his hands, and the county slid into poverty before their very eyes. “It doesn’t matter what happens, as long as everyone’s happy.” Viola loved her parents, but those words sounded like nothing but an excuse to her. Her uncle, on the other hand, would tell her, “Let’s sell that medicine to save everyone,” which seemed far more practical. Yes, she’d thought it was medicine. A medicine that gave people energy when they inhaled it. Clever Lira gave all manner of suggestions to help them sell it: It had to be easy to carry; they needed to start with a diluted version because it was dangerous in higher concentrations; and they’d tailor large quantities to match specific users. She knew about costs and sales rates. Their parents wouldn’t listen even if they talked to them about it, so they relied on their uncle to establish trafficking routes. How had their parents felt when they learned their daughters were involved in the demon snuff trade? “I should have realized it as well. I simply sold what Viola made as Lira asked me to. They’re only children; if we appeal on their behalf, they should be forgiven,” her brazen uncle had told her parents. The former count and countess were earnest people. Feeling that their children’s deeds might as well be their own, they took her uncle’s words at face value… Or perhaps they simply weren’t able to speak up—by that point, they owed him quite a lot of money. They took Viola—the one who made the demon snuff—in their carriage and set off to explain the situation to the emperor. That was when they were killed: The carriage was sent over a cliff with their corpses still inside. Viola watched the whole thing while the people her uncle had hired—men from the church—took her prisoner. It was clear she’d been spared so that she could continue making demon snuff. The reason Lira wasn’t killed was clear as well: She and Viola would be used to bind each other. Their uncle was a clever man. So much so that Lira sarcastically called him “a hustler.” The underground room the church helped to build was designed so that if either Lira or Viola was chained up and wearing the brooch, the door would open and the other twin could leave. However, they weren’t granted this halfhearted freedom out of mercy. The first reason was because it allowed their uncle to play the part of an upstanding gentleman who was raising his deceased brother’s beloved daughter and restoring his house, putting himself above suspicion. Second, by keeping them in an environment where anything could happen to their twin if one of them ran away, he prevented them from committing suicide. He also gave them meals and a decent place to live. One of them—either one—could live as “Lira Revanche.” In this way, he tried to bury Viola and Lira alive. Viola sometimes thought it would be best to just give in and keep making demon snuff. But not Lira. Lira never gave up. When their uncle hit her, she fought back by telling him: “If I’m injured, they’ll suspect you’re abusing me.” When he tried to drag Viola into bed with him, Lira protected her with threats: “If you do anything to my sister, I’ll die in an extremely obvious way.” Lira and Viola’s faces were identical, but Lira was far from meek and quiet, and apparently she wasn’t the type her uncle preferred. He’d been left impotent by a poison Viola had stealthily dosed him with, but he still pawed her all over; she was only able to bear it because she had Lira. Viola was determined not to let anything like that happen to her twin sister, and took pride in being able to protect her. Lira gave her a dream: Their uncle’s misdeeds were bound to be come to light someday, and then the two of them would atone for their crimes and live as the daughters of the house of Revanche. …But they had nowhere to run. Their uncle had already won over the mansion’s servants; every one of them was addicted to demon snuff, and they either had very little will of their own or simply obeyed the count to get their next fix. While the twins were locked away in the mansion, their uncle’s reputation only kept climbing. At this point, it was obvious that a little girl who spoke out against him would be considered rash and inappropriate. When a new emperor ascended the throne and the power of the church waned, a newfound hope sparked inside them. But their uncle just laughed and said that the current emperor would never tolerate demon snuff, since it was harmful to demons. If anything happened, the two of them would be executed and that would be that. What could they have done to him? That was when Lira gave up on exposing their uncle’s misdeeds and starting new lives as the daughters of the house of Revanche. Instead, she said the two of them should run away together, and she had come up with a plan. Viola would make high-quality demon snuff, and Lira would sell it personally to secure the money they’d need for their escape. They turned to crime, not on their uncle’s orders, but of their own volition this time. They would survive quietly, in places where the sun’s rays wouldn’t find them by taking advantage of the fact that their uncle’s reach didn’t extend as far as it had when the church was stronger. Viola understood that this was the practical thing to do. But she just couldn’t bring herself to allow it. She refused to let Lira fall alongside her. Viola was the one who suggested Lira be presented to polite society and married off, but Lira was against it. If she were to marry and move away, she’d never get another opportunity to escape with Viola, and if Lira became a liability, her in-laws would be disposed of along with her. Her concerns were perfectly reasonable. The truth was that their uncle actually wanted to get rid of Lira now that she’d grown skilled at selling demon snuff, so he agreed to Viola’s suggestion. It was a dangerous gamble. However, Viola talked to Lira until she came around. “This is our last chance. Someone who believes you instead of Uncle may appear and help you. We’d be able to turn over a new leaf together.” Lira shifted toward fleeing, and Viola capitalized on her hesitation to urge that thought on. Besides, if they managed to place all the blame of selling demon snuff on their uncle, it might force what went on in the mansion into the public eye. As part of the escape plan, Lira steeled herself to deliberately provoke displeasure by attending a ball wearing a gown in the forbidden color. Their uncle would have simply fled if she mentioned demon snuff there, so she chose to stand out for the wrong reasons instead. Their uncle was furious with Lira for doing something so dangerous, and he beat her as soon as they got home. As a rule, when she had obvious injuries, Viola took her place. Their uncle told Viola to apologize to the empress by sneaking into one of the d’Autriche duchy’s soirees, but it didn’t go well, and he lost his temper. After that, there was no knowing when Lira might be summoned to explain herself to the empress; not to mention that if she secured a marriage interview, her suitor would see her frequently. Their uncle realized it would be dangerous to do anything that would leave visible marks on Lira’s arms or back, let alone her face. That did mean Viola was dragged into his bedchamber more often, but if it meant he couldn’t strike Lira, she considered it a blessing. Once Isaac Lombard accepted the marriage interview, the violence ceased entirely. After all, the man was close enough to Her Majesty to be considered her confidant, so their uncle couldn’t afford to attract his suspicion. And, as Viola anticipated, his surveillance of them lessened as well. Lira grumbled, but she seemed to be enjoying herself. She said he gave her lip rouge, and she brought some home for Viola as well. “So what if he’s the empress’s confidant?” she blustered. “If he’s too incompetent to see through Uncle, I’ll just use him.” …And yet she suggested that maybe he might come to investigate. Anyone her little sister spoke about that way was worth meeting. Then, for the first time, there was a moment when Fate took her side: The man could tell her and Lira apart by sight, something neither the servants nor their uncle was able to do. When she asked him a leading question, she wasn’t sure whether he was Isaac Lombard or not, but it turned out her hunch was correct. The important thing now is that he is not, in fact, the person he claims to be. If someone sent an impostor, it means they’re under suspicion, and yet they are being allowed to do as they please: proof someone intended to thoroughly investigate the situation. Their uncle knows nothing of this. He’s apparently planning to make a direct appeal to the emperor at the opera house, while Viola has been assigned the role of claiming that “Master Isaac never showed up at the arranged time” in Lira’s place. What a farce. Putting on a red dress, she applies her lip rouge. Lira is always the one who is beaten, so Viola’s skin is unblemished and beautiful. She doesn’t think she’s anything but putrid on the inside, though; if it showed on the outside, she’s sure she’d smell rotten. Smiling brightly, she pockets a fruit knife. The servants don’t notice; their minds are hazy with demon snuff. Following her uncle’s orders, they put her into a carriage bound for the opera. Her uncle will be arrested. As Lira has wished, his wicked deeds will be exposed. And Viola, who has kept making demon snuff all this time, will probably be executed. Everything Lira has done has been to protect others: her parents, Viola… If the world punishes her kind, clever sister and those noble feelings, then it must be the world that is in the wrong. But her uncle still has that silver tongue of his. “—You say all this was orchestrated by your niece?” There, you see? He’s trying to wriggle his way out of it. She can’t let him get away here. Her rouged lips curve. Please, gods, don’t make me see the black magician I met in that moonlit garden. Anyone but him. Reflected in his eyes, she’d been lovely beyond belief. That isn’t her. She’s already discarded the part of herself that did nothing but cry over her wretched inability to resist her uncle’s tyrannical behavior. The part of herself that asked others for help. “—So you wore a gown in the forbidden color and picked a fight with Her Majesty to attract attention?” “I wasn’t expecting much. You should’ve seen his face, though.” Lira is wearing a confident smile, but she’s pressing gauze to her cheek, and the corner of her mouth is cut. It pains him to see it, and it’s hard for Walt not to look away. Lira seems to sense this. Rising to her feet, she sets a hand on the metal grate he’s trapped behind. “Don’t pity me.” “……” “You’re the last person I ever want pity from.” Now that she’s told him that, he can’t take his eyes off her. “Besides, my sister has it much worse than I do.” Lira’s remark is cryptic, but Walt doesn’t even contemplate asking for an explanation. The sorts of things that happen in situations like these are dismally predictable. As if Lira’s mentally switched gears, she raises her head. “If you spare her, I’ll give you the recipes for demon snuff and the antidote.” “Huh?” “Your people are researching demon snuff as well, aren’t you? My sister’s a genuine genius—that has to be better than killing her. All else aside, she’s already dead. Let her live as someone else.” Lira sets a hand on her chest. “I’ll take the blame for both her crimes and my own. That will do, won’t it? It isn’t a bad deal.” “……” “If you refuse, I won’t tell you how to find my sister’s research. I’m the only one who knows. She’s careless about things like that.” Lira’s a shrewd negotiator, and in spite of himself, Walt is impressed. “You love your sister, don’t you.” “Are you mocking me?” “…Yeah, I guess so. Unfortunately, though, I’m not authorized to make the final decision about things like that,” he tells her honestly. Lira frowns. “But you belong to the Oberon Trading Firm, don’t you? Not only that, they’re letting you independently investigate demon snuff. You’re not an underling. You must have decent standing.” She apparently thinks that, even if he isn’t Isaac Lombard, Walt must be part of the Oberon Trading Firm since he’s been borrowing the Lombard name. Hmm. So she thinks I’m Isaac’s subordinate. He can easily picture Claude trying to crush both Isaac and the whole Oberon Trading Firm if he ever catches wind of that, so it’s a misunderstanding he’d like to correct, but… What’s the best move here? Lira isn’t an ally yet, so it’s too soon to tell her he’s one of the demon king’s top retainers. “I’m just cooperating with the firm. I belonged to the church once, way back when, which makes me the ideal person for a job like this.” That startles Lira, but she quickly buys his story. “I see. Using one of the church’s men in a demon snuff investigation makes sense… And it also means you can’t disclose your identity. After all, keeping that hidden is important when working undercover.” It’s really helpful that she’s so quick. “In that case, just get us to the negotiating table.” “And you won’t save me if I don’t?” “What are you talking about? None of this can happen unless you return home alive. They’d just get rid of both of us, and that would be the end of it. I’m talking about later on. I already fully intend for you to escape,” Lira tells him firmly, displaying a sharp intellect. In other words, she intends to save Walt whether or not he accepts her proposal. Oh, I’m done for. I’m seriously weak when people put themselves at risk to help me… It’s probably because he’s too used to being treated as a human weapon and disposable shield. Sighing inwardly, Walt comes to a decision, then rips through the rope binding his wrists. It takes Lira a second to register what’s happened, then she looks shocked. “Huh?! Y-you just—” “Well, anybody who trains can manage that much.” “Anybody who trains can tear rope apart?!” I’m a human weapon isn’t an easy thing to say, so he smiles and sidesteps the question. “Do you have a thin piece of wire or a pin or something?” “W-wait a minute.” Lira goes to her dressing table, rummages through a drawer, then returns with a plain hairpin. “What are you going to do?” “This is an old design, so I think I can probably get it, but— There we go, it’s open.” He tosses the lock to the floor with a clank and steps through the door, which is only about half his height. Dazed, Lira looks from Walt to the metal grate and back. “…Are you really just an investigator?” “Honestly, when you’re an investigator, this is really basic stuff. Now let’s see yours.” Walt steps around behind Lira and kneels on the floor. The chain that stretches from her ankle is embedded in the stone flooring. It’s magic; when Lira moves, it grows just as much as she needs. He picks it up and pulls on it, sending a burst of pain through his palm. Panicked, Lira crouches down and grabs his wrist to stop him. “Don’t try to pull it out. See, you’re hurt—” The magic-inflicted scrape vanishes before her eyes. Well, that does it, Walt thinks. He gives her a foolish smile. “It’s fine. I’m sort of a not-quite-human investigator.” Lira’s been staring, but then she scowls just like always. “What a stupid thing to say. Just because it heals up right away doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt!” This time, Walt’s eyes widen. Then he groans, looking up at the ceiling. “Look, could you not say stuff that hits me so hard?” “Huh?” “Nothing, it’s fine… The church cast this binding spell, didn’t they?” Lira nods. “That’s what I’ve heard. It’s tied to the brooch. If either I or my sister are chained in this underground room, the door opens. It won’t open if neither of us is wearing the brooch… There’s a way to release it, though. Some key that isn’t the brooch.” Walt glances at her, signaling for her to elaborate, and she continues. “We tried barricading ourselves in here once. We brought in provisions and water, and neither of us wore the brooch. While we were sleeping, though, our uncle opened the door and came in with the servants…” Lira trails off, biting her lip. It obviously hadn’t ended well. Walt takes a coolheaded look at the door to the room, which includes a laboratory behind a metal grate. “I’m not seeing a keyhole.” “It isn’t a regular key, apparently. My sister seems to have some idea of what it is, though.” “The thing is, magic’s not my forte, either.” Having his demon gun would have helped, but he didn’t bring it along. Kyle’s constant nagging to be on the alert at all times pops into his head, which irks him. “I know a guy who can do something about that even without a key, though.” Elefas could, for one thing. Spells are his specialty, and he can borrow the demon king’s magic. The demon king’s power has also made the demon guns into something that’s kind of hilarious, and if Walt had his, he could break this no problem. Either way, it comes down to the strength of the demon king. In any case, he’s going to need to call for backup; this is too much for him to handle on his own. And to do that, he’ll have to leave Lira here. “It’s fine. You escape,” Lira tells him cheerfully, before he can say a word. “Hurry and go. Oh, but the servants are standing guard, so—” “Shh.” He heard a noise in the depths of the corridor. At his warning, Lira falls silent as well. Several sets of footsteps approach, then the door abruptly swings open. Three men are standing there, faces he’s never seen before. Even seeing Walt doesn’t seem to disturb them. Their eyes are vacant; it’s clear they aren’t in their right minds. With steady unflinching gazes like an eerie band of martyrs, they ready the lamps they’re carrying. Without a word, they scatter oil around as casually as if they’re cleaning, then pitch the lamps in. “Huh?! Wait just a— Hey!” By the time Walt shouts, the lit lamps have already touched off the thick, long-pile carpet, and the fire’s begun to spread. Stunned, he and Lira gaze at the blazing door. Pointlessly shielding the girl behind him, Walt clenches his fists. While he can run, unless he releases the binding spell Lira’s uncle and the church have placed on her, she won’t be able to leave the room. Claude’s mood grows worse and worse, and Kyle watches, his insides a bundle of nerves. His master’s beauty outshines even the glittering chandeliers of the opera house, and it’s at its most impressive when he’s angry. Aileen is beside him, and although she must have noticed it as well, her smile doesn’t waver. He’d like to learn from her composure. That said, outwardly, Kyle’s wearing the mask of a coolheaded guard. His face probably makes Claude’s smile look merciful by comparison. “You say your niece, Miss Lira, has been threatening you all this time.” “That’s right. She used demon snuff to win over everyone in the mansion. She meant to make herself Your Majesty’s wife someday!” Aileen opens her fan and uses it to hide her lips. She’s probably concealing a smile. The entrance hall of the opera house teems with operagoers. The imperial couple are on the landing of a velvet-carpeted stairway, and the poor count kneels below them, supposedly confessing the truth of the matter. It’s quite a spectacle. It may even be more entertaining than tonight’s opera: Audience members watch from a distance, whispering in the corridor upstairs and the hall down below, and none of them show any sign of entering the theater and taking their seats. “I’m really terribly sorry. It’s partly my fault for not noticing sooner. However, I thought it was fine for her to dream, provided that was all she did. I had no idea she would dare to strike Master Isaac Lombard when he realized she was selling demon snuff!” Elefas is standing next to Kyle, and the man’s dramatic remark makes him cover his mouth, struggling not to burst out laughing. “I-Isaac’s been attacked…” “You found that funny? What’s wrong with you?” Isaac sounds rather indignant. Kyle and Elefas’s current mission is to guard Isaac and keep an eye on things. They’ve blended in with the crowd and are intently listening to Count Revanche’s story. “Master Isaac is being held prisoner in my mansion,” the count insists. “Isaac Lombard, captive…” “Listen, like I said, what’s so funny about that, you shady mage?” Isaac demands. “My niece ordered me to come here and plead her innocence. She’ll be here soon, and she’ll seem very worried that Master Isaac has not come to pick her up, even though he promised to do so. After that, she plans to secretly do away with him.” “Isaac Lombard, murdered…” Elefas can barely keep it together. “Listen, you… Enough. Whatever.” “Yes, I see. In other words, you’re saying you knew nothing of your niece’s demon snuff trading.” Count Revanche hangs his head. “I don’t intend to make excuses. I failed to stop my niece, just as I failed with my older brother. The responsibility hangs on my head. Punish me in any way you see fit.” He presents himself as a martyr, and it draws admiring sighs and sympathetic murmurs from the surrounding spectators. “He’s good,” Isaac mutters. “If the emperor passes judgment on him now, everyone will think he’s ruthless.” “However, would you save Master Isaac first? He trusted me enough to confess that he feared for his life. If he hasn’t returned, it may be my niece’s doing.” If they didn’t know better, Count Revanche’s story might pass for the truth. That’s how good his reputation is and how adept he is at working the crowd. “Isaac Lombard confided in you? And now you say he’s being held captive?” “Yes. If we don’t act quickly, there’s no telling what may happen.” Count Revanche raises his head. Deliberately, Claude sets a long finger against his chin. “There seems to have been some kind of misunderstanding. What do you think, Aileen?” He gives his wife a troubled look. Aileen, who’s still elegantly hiding the lower half of her face with her fan, glances their way. “Go on,” Elefas urges in a voice trembling with suppressed laughter as he gives Isaac a little push. Isaac, who’s dressed in his finest, smacks his hand away crossly. He’s bad at making this sort of entrance. “Yes, there must be. After all, my confidant Isaac Lombard is here with us now.” Isaac was frustrated just listening to his new wife fret as she dressed him: “What?! Dress him up for an impressive entrance? Yes, just leave it to m— But if I dress him up too much, he’ll get popular…” Now he steps out of the crowd and walks down the stairs to the landing where the imperial couple wait. “A good evening to you, Your Majesty.” “Yes, Isaac, to you as well. You haven’t changed a bit.” Watching the empress and the real Isaac exchange amicable greetings, the count clambers to his feet, turning pale. “Th-that can’t be! Then— Who on earth is that man?” “Who do you think?” For the first time, Claude lowers his voice. He must be nearing his limit; leaving his wife on the landing, he descends the stairs to the count. “Now then, tell us once more, Count Revanche. Who was it that spoke to you about your niece and felt his life was in danger?” “Wh-what…?” “Would he have gone to anyone else before coming to me? Is that possible? I’m extremely curious.” “Master Claude is really holding on to that grudge,” Elefas says calmly, and Kyle sighs and nods. Even so, he feels anxious. He is all right, isn’t he? Claude probably feels the same way. His red eyes are fixed mercilessly on Count Revanche. “I—I know nothing!” Claude frowns. Elefas narrows his eyes. “He’s stubborn. He still hasn’t shown his true colors.” Kyle almost lets out a tsk of irritation, but then he notices an unusual movement downstairs. While the crowd’s attention is riveted on the imperial couple and Count Revanche, someone is threading their way through, making for the spot everyone is focused on. At the foot of the stairs, where the count is standing… That’s— His eyes widen. He could never mistake that figure for anyone else. “That’s right— My niece! Ask my niece. She’ll be here soon anyway.” “Then you claim your niece was the one who engineered all this?” “That’s right! I know nothing.” Kyle isn’t listening to the farce at the base of the stairs. All he can see is the girl. As Count Revanche’s excuses hold everyone’s attention, she creeps closer. There’s a smile on her lips, and in her hand, she’s holding a… “If that Isaac Lombard is an impostor, then he’s another one of those demon snuff traders and he deceived me—” “This is for my mother and father!” The blade reflects the bright lights of the chandeliers. Just before it falls, Kyle kicks Count Revanche out of the way and catches the girl’s thin wrist, stopping it. Her eyes are the same color as the ones he saw in that moonlit garden. They widen in shock, then waver as if she’s about to burst into tears. It’s her. For some reason, he’s sure of it. However, before he can ask, her face hardens. “Unhand me, please. This is demon snuff. —If you come near me, I’ll scatter it.” She holds a small bottle right in front of his eyes, and Kyle shuts his mouth. His heart is in turmoil, but his mind is calm. Elefas is here, too; it would be easy to take that bottle away from her. Since there’s no telling what might agitate her, though, they can’t make any careless moves. “All right.” Releasing her wrist, he steps back, shielding Claude. The girl immediately points her knife at the count, who’s lying at her feet. “The key to the underground room. Give it to me.” “G-girl, do you think you can do a…a thing like this and escape without—?” “Isn’t this where you’re supposed to play the victim and beg His Majesty for forgiveness?” Kyle can practically hear Count Revanche grinding his teeth as he glares at his niece, but she seems to know that her uncle can’t defy her. Right as she’s about to riffle through his pockets— “Demon king! Emergency, emergency!” “Fire! Count Revanche’s mansion is burning!” A murder of crows swoops in through the main entrance, and more screams go up. There’s a sound of scrambling footsteps; people have started to flee. Taking advantage of the confusion, Count Revanche makes a break for it, running deeper into the opera house. Everyone’s eyes follow him. In that moment, the girl bites her lip, then turns on her heel and dashes for the door. It all happens in an instant, just as it did in that moonlit garden. Elefas descends at a leisurely pace, landing with a light step beside Claude. “Master Claude, what should we do?” Claude shrugs. “Kyle. Go after her.” “A-are you sure?” “She made a public attempt to kill her uncle, so she must be pretty desperate. She probably knows something about Walt as well. I don’t know where she went or what she plans to do there, but do her a favor and stop her. The way you just did.” Startled, Kyle stands straighter. Claude goes on impassively. “A fire at Count Revanche’s mansion, hmm? They’re destroying evidence. If demon snuff is burning, we can’t send the demons. Elefas, you work with Keith and get that fire put out. Search for Count Revanche as well.” “Understood, sire. I’ll return to the castle to report the situation to Sir Keith.” Elefas vanishes. Returning to the landing, Claude gently takes his wife’s hand. Nothing about the situation has rattled her. “Let me send you home. We’ll have to postpone the opera. You don’t mind, do you?” “Not at all. Besides, I got to see something unusual. So she’s your fairy, Kyle?” Kyle looks up. Aileen is wearing a mischievous smile. Beside her, Claude blinks. “She is? That wasn’t Lira?” “No. She looks just like her, but I’m fairly certain… Do go save her, won’t you?” Kyle hastily bows to Aileen, then takes off running. The crows continue circling near the ceiling as a white shape leaves their ranks and flies down to him. “Sugar, where did she go?!” “The girl boarded a carriage!” “This way! This way!” Leaping from the teeming crush of people to the roof, Kyle scans for the carriage, guided by Sugar and the others. He’s searching for the girl he’d never considered searching for. I’m… Unexpectedly, regret wells up inside him. If only he’d looked for her sooner… He can’t get the thought out of his mind. The image of the knife she tried to bring down is still burned onto his retinas. She’d never do such a thing—even if he can believe that, he doesn’t know for sure. How did it come to this? What sort of life has she endured up till now? What happened in that moonlit garden? Why had she been crying? He doesn’t even know her real name. At this point, he understands how Walt feels. Walt had tried desperately to learn about the girl because he’d wanted to help her. He’d believed she was someone worth saving. She’s a fairy; as long as she’s happy, that’s enough. Kyle had prayed for that, but it was all he’d done. He’d been running away. Compared to him, Walt had been far more sincere. “There! That’s it, lackey!” A carriage is racing through town, spurred on by a constantly lashing whip. By the time Kyle catches up to it, he can see smoke ahead. Count Revanche’s mansion? Is she planning to go back? Why would she return to a blazing mansion? At this point, he remembers Walt’s theory. If this really is the “deceased” sister, and she has a twin… Avoiding the crowd, the carriage stops at the rear entrance. The girl practically tumbles out, grabs a hose that’s meant for watering the garden, turns on the tap, and douses herself. It’s clear what she’s about to do. “Wait—!” A gust of wind whips up the flames, and the noise drowns out Kyle’s shout. With no hesitation, the girl plunges into the inferno. Luckily, they’d been able to put out the flames in the underground room quickly. However, the fleeing servants had apparently scattered oil everywhere to keep anyone from pursuing them, and when Walt reaches the entry hall, what awaits him is a sea of fire. The blaze is far too large to extinguish. “The wind’s blowing the fire toward the building in the other direction, but it’ll be back this way before long,” he tells Lira, once he’s returned to the underground room. “Why did you come back?! Are you a fool?! Hurry up and escape!” she shouts at him. Walt responds as calmly as possible. “I can’t let you get away now. This is work.” “You needn’t worry; I won’t be going anywhere. And ‘work’? If you’re dead, there’s no point! Besides, I’ve already told you everything. Value your life over your job!” “I can’t do that. You’re an important witness.” “I’m sure you’ll figure something out. You’ll have my sister. If you need evidence, take those notes over there and whatever else you want!” “I’m telling you I can’t let you die! Get that through your skull!” he yells. He’s startled Lira, and the look on her face brings Walt back to his senses. “…Sorry.” He rubs at a sooty cheek, not exactly sure what he’s apologizing for. Unbidden, his hand reaches for Lira’s chest. His fingers brush the brooch that’s holding her here. It’s an important piece of evidence. “Even this is valuable evidence, you know.” Lira looks down. Walt thinks she might be crying, and the sight makes him a little flustered. “I-it’s all right. I’ve always been weirdly lucky.” “…Luck? How can you talk about luck at a time like this?” “Mm, well, it’s true—” “Lira!” The sudden shout makes Lira’s eyes widen. Walt turns. “Sister!” “Thank goodness you’re safe! Come, swap places with me. If you go now, you can still escape. Give me the brooch…” Lira turns pale. Covering her chest, she hides behind Walt. Viola is covered in a layer of soot, and her soft, beautiful hair is singed here and there. She must have run through the burning mansion to get here. Walt doesn’t bother asking why she came back: It’s obvious. She wants to get her sister safely away before the flames trap them—and plans to stay here in her place. Wearing the face of a troubled older sister, Viola pleads with Lira. “Hurry, there’s no time. Give me the brooch.” “No. Absolutely not.” “Do you want this man to die with you?” With a gasp, Lira looks up at him. Walt pretends not to notice. Under the circumstances, he doesn’t want to hear her answer. So there’s just one question he does ask. “Did you meet a prince in a moonlit garden?” Viola blinks at him. Walt’s realized she isn’t dressed the same way she was when she left the room. The fragrance of her perfume has burned away, but she’s wearing a magnificent red gown, and although it’s coming off, she’s wearing makeup and lip rouge. She’s most certainly dressed for the opera. He doesn’t actually know where she’s been or what she did there, but her response to his question matters more. “What…are you saying?” She’s obviously shaken, and that makes the answer clear. Walt shrugs. “In that case, it’s fine. If we just wait it out, we’ll all survive.” “—Relying purely on others isn’t the best plan, Walt.” Viola’s eyes widen; she didn’t notice she was being tailed. Frightened, she backs away, and Lira’s gaze sharpens. The only one who smiles is Walt. “Hey. Thanks for coming to pick me up.” “Who’d come for you? I just…followed her here, on Master Claude’s orders.” There’s nothing wrong with that: His partner can pursue his fairy now. Walt raises a hand, and Kyle sullenly tosses him a demon gun. There’s no way Kyle wouldn’t notice he forgot to bring his along. The guns seem to frighten the two girls. He feels bad about that but doesn’t have time to explain. Wordlessly, Walt levels his gun, aiming at the magic chain that binds Lira’s leg, and pulls the trigger. When they reach the first floor, the paths to both the rear door and the front entrance are already an impenetrable sea of flames. “Listen, you,” Walt shouts. “Did you charge into a burning building without letting someone know first? Are you an idiot?!” “I don’t want to hear it from you! You must have had any number of chances to escape, and still—” “Argh, just can it already! Watch what’ll happen if that fiend of a mage ends up having to rescue us. We’ll get stuck with no time off for six months!” Walt threatens. Kyle looks incredulous. “As if you can talk. You’ve already lost yours due to that blunder the other day. —Anyway, what do we do now?” “Are there any other doors?” Lira and Viola have been huddling close to each other, watching them bicker in stunned silence, but now they exchange looks. “Th-they’re already burning…” “Any stairs that go up?” “O-over there. What are you going to do?” “Jump out a window. If you’ll excuse me…” Walt scoops Lira into his arms, putting her over his shoulder before her surprise wears off. He’s already taken off his coat and draped it over her. “Wh-what?” “It’ll keep the sparks off you. Don’t talk; this way’s faster.” When he glances at Kyle, the other man hastily takes off his coat, drapes it over Viola’s head, and picks her up. She doesn’t seem surprised; she simply lets him do it. Actually, have those two even said a word to each other? It tugs at him a little, but that can wait. The stairway is a narrow one meant for the servants. Taking the stairs three at a time, Walt races up it to the third floor. The stairs deposit him right at a corner of the corridor. Flames are erupting from a room whose door has collapsed; they’re in his way, but if he gets past three rooms or so, there’s a big bay window that overlooks the back garden. “I’m going to charge through, so keep your eyes, ears, and mouth covered, and hold your breath. Here we go.” Once he’s seen Lira pull the coat tightly over her head, Walt launches himself into a run. Holding his breath but keeping his eyes open, he sprints past the rooms. Kyle follows suit. Now all they have to do is break the window and get outside. Working in sync, he and Kyle smash the glass using one hand each—and a black shadow falls over them. “?!” “Kyle!” It’s just a matter of where they’re standing: Walt manages to avoid the attack by ducking back into the corridor with Lira, but Kyle and Viola are flung out through the broken window. “Sister!” Lira tries to lean out, but Walt holds her back, then makes her take cover behind him. A hand and arm so thick they don’t seem human grab Viola’s slim body and pull her back. “…You ingrates. How dare you.” A grotesque shadow stands right where Kyle and Walt were a moment ago, blocking their way. A bitter smile creeps onto Walt’s face. “Count Revanche…” The figure turns toward him, and the left half is unmistakably that of the count. His right half, however, has degraded into something ugly and warped, and he stands there with Viola in his grip. “This is your fault. You’ve ruined everything,” the count says. His voice is strangely warped. Even as he speaks, his muscles swell and contract with unsettling, distorted noises. Viola must have fainted for a moment. Opening her eyes with a gasp, she looks around, probably searching for Kyle. Then she sees the monster that’s caught her, and her face turns white. “U-un…cle…” “It’s your fault, both of you! Everything’s ruined!” “Your servants set the mansion on fire to destroy evidence on your orders, and you’re blaming it on them? I mean, I think you might have a little bit of trouble convincing people of that, don’t you?” Walt speaks in an intentionally cheery voice, trying to draw the man’s focus to him. When humans are enhanced—or corrupted, really—by demon snuff, they tend to think very simplistically. Just as he anticipated, the man’s eyes, which were darting in every direction, turn to glare at him. “Y-you… That’s right. You tricked me, so the emperor—” However, Walt has Lira there with him. She seems to be keeping it together, but she’s clutching Walt’s coat, and her hand is trembling. “S-Sister… A-and the, the other one, that man… He fell…out of the window…” “He’s fine,” Walt says briefly. Figuring out how to get Lira and Viola safely away takes priority. “Fine? But my uncle— He’s no longer…human…” “Lira, get out of here! Please, run!” Viola screams. The second half of that plea is probably directed at Walt. Apparently only just now remembering that Viola’s also there, Count Revanche yells. “Shut up, shut up, shut up! I told you I’d make you my wife, and yet you— You shameless little—” “Who’d marry you?! If that’s my only option, I’ll bite through my tongue and die right here!” “Sister, don’t!” Lira tries to lunge at them, but Walt grabs her by the waist and backs up to a part of the corridor that hasn’t caught fire yet. At the same time, Count Revanche takes a blow from above and falls to the floor with a tremendous crash. Viola is nearly flung out into empty space again, but Kyle deftly catches her, then flies back into the corridor through the broken window. “I can’t have you marrying him or biting your tongue off.” Walt has scooped Lira into his arms. After launching Count Revanche down the blazing corridor with a kick, he leaps through the bay window, switching places with Kyle. “Never mind that, it’s time to go!” Having Lira and Viola there puts them at a disadvantage in combat. Kyle promptly shifts Viola into a more secure position, then jumps from the third floor, following Walt. Both Lira and Viola have gone pale, but there’s no time to be solicitous: No sooner have they touched down in the rear garden than a grotesque shape bursts through the wall of the mansion and plummets toward them. “Give them back, they’re mine!” “Who’d—?” “Kyle, don’t talk back to him, getting to safety comes first!” “L-leave… Leave us here!” Lira shrieks. Even though Viola’s face is white, she calls to them as well. “W-we’ll be fine, so please, leave us and go. The two of us can escape together.” “Walt, here he comes!” An enormous fist swings down, smashing into the ground. As they evade it, Lira shouts again, “H-he’s after us, isn’t he?! If you leave us and go—” “What are you talking about?! You’re shaking!” “Shall I help you?” a sudden voice says behind them. Lira gasps, but Walt tsks in irritation. That fiend of a mage has arrived. “You sure know how to show up right when it means we’ll owe you.” “Don’t talk like that. I was getting ready to help put the fire out, and I just happened to see the two of you hard at work over here.” “Elefas, take care of her,” Kyle calls over. He’s just kicked Count Revanche flying again, putting some distance between them. Viola looks completely taken by surprise at the sight of the mage, who’s still floating in midair. Landing lightly beside Kyle, Elefas smiles. “Of course; leave it to me. I wish Walt could also admit that he needs my help as well.” “Yeah, yeah, say whatever you want. You’re more crooked loan shark than mage. —She’s all yours.” “Is that any way to ask a favor? Oh, very well.” “U-um…?” Walt sets Lira down on the lawn, and she eyes the mage uneasily. Elefas gives her an incredibly dubious smile. “Now then, young ladies, if you’d follow me.” “But…” “It’s all right. I think those two will score a stunning victory. Unlike myself, they’re outstanding in actual combat. Aren’t you—? Whoops.” Before Walt can respond to his taunts, tremors shake the ground. Count Revanche is growing bigger and bigger, and he crushes a flower bed as he gets to his feet. “I won’t, let you, get away.” Lira and Viola cling to each other, white-faced. It’s probably how they’ve lived for the past several years. “You are mine. Who’d give you to complete nobodies like—?” “Complete nobodies? That’s rude.” “You said it.” Walt and Kyle stand in his way. Peering down at them, Count Revanche laughs. “You think you can win against me? Mere humans, when I’ve been strengthened by demon snuff! Even the demon king would be no match for—” “Hey, whoa, stop. Don’t say careless stuff like that, okay? He’ll actually show up.” “We can’t let him do that. This is our job.” “Exactly. And we’re not complete nobodies. We’re the demon king’s guards.” They cock their demon guns. This is what they’re here for. “Kyle Elford. In the name of our lord.” “Walt Lizanis. We swear on our pride.” They stand side by side, mirror images of each other, and the muzzles of their guns spit silver bullets. Walt Lizanis. That’s his real name. Lira engraves the name she’s finally learned on her heart. At the same time, the reality of his position sinks in. He’s one of His Majesty’s closest retainers…! An investigator for the Oberon Trading Firm doesn’t even come close. He’s even higher up the ladder than Isaac Lombard, who’s renowned as the empress’s confidant. Lira has hardly ever left the mansion, but she’s heard that the current emperor is the demon king, and that since he’s been disinherited once, he chooses his retainers very carefully. This is particularly the case for his guards, since they’re always at his side, and apparently even having Prime Minister d’Autriche put in a word for someone doesn’t help. She hears that they call themselves “the demon king’s guards” because they’ve pledged their loyalty personally to Claude Jean Ellmeyer. They aren’t even nobles, but the things they say and do can’t be ignored: They are the emperor’s eyes, ears, hands, and feet. “Come this way, you two,” the blond, mild-looking young man prompts them, and Lira recovers her senses with a start. “Um, but… Are you sure they’ll be all right…?!” Their uncle is now twice his former height, and he really doesn’t seem human anymore. It must be due to the power of Viola’s demon snuff. Viola looks pale as well. “That demon snuff is potent. Its effects will last much longer…and the antidote has burned up…” “Is this any time to be worrying about them? You two are suspects. At this point, I’m your only opponent. Haven’t you considered attempting to flee?” The question sounds mischievous, but Lira picks up on the accusation deep in his eyes. “It’s the other way around!” she shouts. “If you’d only arrested me straightaway, this never would have happened! You noticed the demon snuff, but you left me to struggle futilely on my own, didn’t you?” “No, I’m the one who can make demon snuff, so I’m the one our uncle’s after, not Lira! Give me to him. That will buy you time to figure out a real plan and muster soldiers.” “I see,” the young man says carelessly. Then his smile vanishes. “In other words, you think our emperor is a fool who could be manipulated by two little girls?” When he responds to their impassioned cries with a chilling gaze, shivers run down Lira and Viola’s spines. However, after a moment, his gentle smile returns. “If you’re worried, would you like to stay here and watch? As long as I protect you, they shouldn’t be angry about it.”