“You have the device, don’t you? The one that can test for a person’s blood relations?”
As for whose relations, that I won’t say. Of course, Edward and Octavia’s family, who knew nothing, would say nothing—but neither could Henry, who would not wish for it to be known that he had produced a fake, nor that he had worked to create a test subject in order to utilize the Imperial Heirlooms. They could not prevent the queen of the angels from seizing upon an incorrect answer to her question—that the girl in the photograph was Crow, the Phantom Thief, and a scion of the empire.
“You need only to check.”
Raven L. Osvard was not a descendant of the imperial line. Therefore, Raven would definitely be set free. But he could never become the Phantom Thief again. If he did so, he would lose his freedom. This was the same thing as saying that Octavia had put the Phantom Thief’s crimes to an end; she had in essence captured him.
“I am certain that the answer you seek is here.” With a daring smile, Octavia presented the playing card to the queen.
This was a frightfully dangerous gamble. At the very least, the queen would learn that an imperial heir was still alive.
Thinking of Raven, I really shouldn’t smile. However... The joy of finally being able to catch that man won out over the fear of her own survival, of being discovered. Octavia didn’t quite know what to call this feeling she had, but she was sure that her grandmother would have forgiven her.
You were fooled by a bad man, weren’t you?
I was, Octavia would have replied, prompting laughter and praise from her grandmother.
“Now then, Queen.” I’ll let you have that title, so let me go on being a detective. Otherwise, I won’t be able to catch the Phantom Thief.
Behind the gauze curtain, the queen rose to her feet, as if hooked by Octavia’s bait.
A voice descended suddenly from the ceiling: “One.”
At the sound of it, Octavia opened her eyes wide.
“Two.”
There was a commotion in the corridor outside. A sentry came barging in.
“What is the meaning of this?” cried Henry at the sentry.
The sentry replied, “We’ve received a message from the police! Crow, the Phantom Thief, has stolen the music box from the art museum, and now he’s made his way he—”
“Three!”
The stained glass in the ceiling of the audience chamber shattered, falling down in shards. Reflexively, Octavia raised her hands to protect her head.
“Protect the queen!”
“Octavia, the card!” shouted Hat.
“Ah.” Prompted by Hat, Octavia realized that the playing card she had just presented to the queen had vanished from her hand.
“I can’t let you do that, Miss Detective.” The Phantom Thief was suspended amid falling shards of stained glass, which glittering all around him with reflected light; he planted a kiss on the playing card and smiled. “I can’t let you get away with exposing my identity with this little playing card. I’ll be taking this back.”
“Why, you... Give that back! I need it—”
“Now, then, Your Highness, Prince Henry the Foolish. I’ve come to exact my revenge.”
“Y-You what?” Henry, who had been cowering on the floor, raised his head. He likely had no idea how to deal with this sudden development. He looked more pitiful in this moment than Octavia would have ever thought.
Crow made the playing card vanish, like in a conjuring act; he produced the music box in its place. Octavia goggled at him, shocked.
“Don’t tell me he intends to activate it?!” cried Hat.
“I should have done this from the very start. These are your just deserts.” Crow forced the music box open, then hurled it at the prince.
He hadn’t simply activated it. He had torn away the queen’s seal upon it. It no longer played the clear melody that it had played last time. Now, it played out of tune, and a black mist spilled out of it. As if it had already determined its target, the mist began to make its way toward Henry, who was crouched on the floor nearby.
“Before the queen’s seal was placed upon this Heirloom,” said Crow, “its last owner was you, Prince Henry.” In other words, now that the seal was broken, the Demonic Heirloom would consider Henry to be its user. Underneath his mask, Crow sneered. “Now, then—go mad as it engulfs you.”
Seized by the black mist, Henry let out a scream.
“Why, he’s sent the box amok!” Hat cried, finally regaining his composure. “The cur!”
Panicked, Octavia shouted, “Wh-What should we even do in this situation?!”
“Simple. We’ll let Her Majesty stop it.”
At Crow’s cavalier answer, Octavia turned to look beyond the gauze curtain.
Just as she did so, she heard the queen’s staff ring out as it struck the floor. The curtain billowed upward, and a magic circle rushed out from behind it. The queen’s magic circle soon engulfed the area around the music box, even as it continued to spout black mist. Eventually, with a creak, the lid of the box closed again. The music box, no longer playing its tune, fell down from where it floated in midair.
Octavia instinctively reached out to grab it, but it was snatched away from her. Crow had taken it.
Quite unexpectedly, Octavia now found herself facing Crow at point-blank range. She gasped. From this distance, she could see his beautiful red eyes perfectly. But before she could blink, this flash of color vanished, and a shadow descended over her in its place.
“Ah!” cried Hat.
Something stifled Octavia’s mouth. As she opened her eyes, a sweet sensation withdrew from her lips.