How nostalgic, I thought, looking at the lipstick, with its rich color of blood. From the vaulted ceiling hung many sparkling chandeliers. The marbled floor had been polished diligently, so that it reflected the dancers twirling upon it almost like a mirror—so that if I looked down, I would end up dizzy.
I was in a ballroom, a place of opulent socialization. The sound of voices, gossiping and bargaining, floated into the air and scattered like a shower of flower petals.
“I hear this year’s vintage is particularly fine. I can’t wait to taste it.”
“Say, do you know her? That lady over there.”
“Indeed. I’ve heard that of late she has been extremely prosperous. She even looks younger, in her face and her clothes.”
I, Raven L. Osvard, listened intently. The words I overheard were barbed.
“Perhaps you might call it sophistication? But that woman’s daughter is already of an age to make her debut.”
“I’ve heard that she’s a handful to be around. I’ve heard that even her servants are constantly in a daze!”
“It seems a young noble has been sending her flowers, one after the other. The fellow in question doesn’t look too bad to me, but, like every such night, I can’t tell who she has her sights set on...”
“Shh, she’s coming this way.”
“Lord Osvard!”
I could sense the wives and daughters of nobles who had been nattering away behind me gasp collectively. I turned to face the one who had greeted me with a grin on my face. It was those vivid red lips that had called me, but it seemed now that I could smell the heavy fragrance of wine. Ah, I imagine this alone would leave a normal human intoxicated.
“If you wouldn’t mind, might we speak over here?”
I do not detest flatterers, actually. It is people who live their lives without ever giving flattery that I dislike. I think them arrogant.
But this—the color of her lips—this would not do. A red so vivid that it threatened to blot out my retinas. The intoxicating feeling they imparted might have convinced another man that he was in love.
“Your lipstick is lovely.”
“Indeed, it really is. I only recently acquired it.”
“From where did you purchase it?”
“My, interested, are we? Well, let me see. Where was it...again...?”
She had suddenly fallen into a daze. This lady was most likely just a victim—it was only lipstick, after all. Even so, it was lipstick that could grant wishes. I knew it well. I had seen it before. After all, I had once worn it myself, using it to transform into a young girl when I’d had my picture taken.
The lipstick was magical, able to completely change one’s appearance. It was one of the Imperial Heirlooms that even the angels had not been able to wipe out entirely.
Could it be that the Heirlooms were scattered across the earth? That might have been the best way to dispose of them. There was no upper limit to a human’s ambition. Even when warned of the danger, some humans would still try to get their hands on them. The angels’ cover-up had capitalized on that weakness. The thought suddenly crossed my mind: if I exposed this scheme, I wondered, what would happen? I wasn’t thinking of revenge or anything so lofty as that. Something simpler, more innocent. I would call it playfulness.
It was around this time that I’d become used to the rank of marquis that I had so skilfully obtained. In fact, I’d begun to grow tired of it. There was still no sign that His Highness, the queen’s brother, had noticed me yet. He probably thought I had died. Angels can be surprisingly foolish.
That being the case, I thought that starting a new game wouldn’t be too bad. I’ve got it—what about becoming some sort of phantom thief? Of all things, a phantom thief who targets Demonic Heirlooms. An act of direct provocation against the angels.
That sounds like fun. They’re always that simple, really, the thoughts that inspire people to embark on a new course of action.
It was the same sort of thinking that led me to become Octavia’s assistant. At least, I believe it was. It sounded fun. That alone was enough. The pursuit of nothing but pleasure, ephemeral and unproductive. Without such a stimulus, I cannot truly feel that I am free, that I am alive. So, of course, it wasn’t as if I had any objective in mind.
“Just try and steal my heart, Phantom Thief.”
Receiving such words as these is...
“So troublesome,” I murmured.
“What’s the matter, Raven?” asked Octavia now. “That was sudden. If something is troubling you, I’ll happily discuss it with you. For a fee.”
“Thank you for your consideration. You’re a truly dependable employer. But this is a problem I have to deal with myself.”
“I see,” said Octavia, returning to her paperwork. I was dissatisfied with how easily she had withdrawn from the conversation, but I was also aware of how unreasonable my excuse must have sounded. I, too, returned to my work opening mail.
Then I chanced upon a particular envelope, and my eyes opened wide. “Octavia, it’s from Reine Manor—from your father.”
“Just open it for now. And see what’s inside. Thanks.”
“Are you sure? It might be private.”
“I don’t mind. It’s too late to keep you out of my family matters.”
Did she say this out of her faith in me or her lack of concern with her family? I decided to take it as the former; that was more favorable to me, after all. With a twist of my paper knife, I opened the envelope and ran my eyes across the letter.
“What does it say? Ah, but I’m sure it’s another letter I won’t quite understand...”
I couldn’t prevent my voice from becoming lower. “He says he has more suitors to introduce to you.”
I heard another voice respond at the same time, which said, “He what? That rubbish family of yours again!”
It could’ve been that the hat had cottoned on to the fact that I could hear him, now. Probably he was hollering with the intention of provoking a reaction. Either way, I decided to treat this as an auditory hallucination.
Octavia’s hand, which had been writing with a quill pen, froze. She sighed.
“Not again...”
“Again?” I repeated thoughtlessly, dreading what I might learn. I tried to convey that this was the first I’d heard about any new suitors.
But Octavia only shrugged. “This is the third time he’s sounded me out since the start of this month. I’ll happily ignore it.”
“Are you sure? You won’t even ask who your prospective suitors are?”
“They’re all the same.”
“I might be misremembering, but I thought you believed in marrying strategically.” What had caused a note of sarcasm to slip into my voice was the fact that the candidates Octavia’s father had offered up were all of quite high standing. Though I wouldn’t have called them men of the very highest pedigree, all things considered, Octavia’s father had nevertheless made quite a good effort, it seemed. It wouldn’t have been strange for Octavia, set as she was on a strategic marriage, to seize upon any one of them.
This was the same father who hadn’t wanted Octavia to make a societal debut. I never would have imagined that he would come to her with an offer like this. Perhaps he had finally acknowledged the fact that Octavia would inherit his peerage, contingent as this was on her capturing Crow, the Phantom Thief. This was a ploy to ensure that she at least married a man he could support.
Come to think of it, I had heard a rumor that Edward was now working on the ground. Octavia’s father would probably have to resort to someone else for his other daughter, too.
“Well, in the first place, your income is higher, isn’t it?”
My mind had been so occupied with these strange concerns that I took a while to respond. “Hm? What? Income?”
“What I mean is, there’s no room for comparison, is there?” Octavia looked at me with an expression as if to say, Don’t you get it?
I couldn’t help but think I was being stupid. No, wait a moment. No, this is not a cause for celebration. Presently, Octavia—without the slightest hint of embarrassment—returned to her work. She had given me as much consideration as she would when comparing two items in a shop, one in each hand, and judging one of them to be better value.
To be sure, I was a high-value prospect. Given my income, my title, my reputation, and my looks, young noblewomen around my age would surely line up around the block. In short, Octavia had finally realized that fact. That was all. In other words, this was nothing for me, a believer in marrying for love, to celebrate.
No, I suppose it’s good that she’s at least become aware of that. I may have managed to slip past her defenses. Or have I?
Could it be that those words of hers—just try and steal my heart—were not the charming invitation I had taken them for, but a proclamation of defiance? A declaration that I would never manage that feat? I became aware of an icy feeling in the bottom of my heart.
“She is formidable...” Her assistant’s resentful muttering did not seem to reach the ears of the detective, enthralled in her work as she was. Touching the tip of her quill to her lips, she pondered something. Though I had already touched those lips twice, there was now not a hint of eroticism between us.
But—challenge accepted. Isn’t stealing the unstealable what makes me the Phantom Thief? What fun is there in stealing treasure from an unlocked chest?
“Raven. The figures on this invoice are wrong—” Octavia broke off. “Raven? What’s the matter with you?”
“Nothing, sorry. I was lost in thought. I’ll be right there.” With a smile worthy of an assistant, I rose to my feet.
I had slipped a letter of announcement into her opened mail. Almost like a love letter.
That night, the Phantom Thief flitted across the sky. This time, to steal the detective’s heart.