Chapter 20

2. The Silent Bride She was alone in the dream. There was nobody else around. Nobody could come in. She was standing in front of three books. Books that had everything recorded inside them. Part of her found it strange—frightening, even. Part of her didn’t want to be there. And yet she couldn’t bring herself to move. She was alone. What was it that frightened her? There wasn’t anything scary around. This was normal. This was who she was. She reached out toward one of the books in front of her. It was the tale of a king and a witch from long, long ago. “I…feel…sick…” Gasping for breath, Shizuku opened her bleary eyes to see the ceiling of the inn. “It hurts…” “Don’t worry,” responded the familiar voice of a young man. He was wiping her forehead with a damp cloth, and as Shizuku lay there on the floor, he peered down at her with his deep-blue eyes. “You have a mild fever. Your tiredness must be taking a toll on you, so just sleep. You don’t need to worry about anything else.” His voice, which washed over Shizuku like gentle waves, had a comforting effect on her. She nodded, still feeling woozy, then closed her eyes again and fell back into a dream. Having checked that Shizuku’s pained expression had relaxed slightly, Erik let out a sigh and stood up. Lyshien, who stood worriedly in the corner of the room, asked him a question. “How is Shizuku…?” “She’s fine. I think she’s just worn out. This is a good opportunity for her to rest, so I’ll let her get some sleep.” Erik was surprised to have found her collapsed on the street, but now that he thought about it, Shizuku had been traveling from place to place for more than two months straight at this point. For someone who’d been whisked here from another world, this was bound to have exhausted her, regardless of how slow paced their itinerary might have been. When they’d first met, Shizuku had been brimming with motivation that she didn’t quite know what to do with, and as it turned out, she was far more strong willed than he’d imagined her to be. She’d refused to back down, even when confronted with a manifestation of a forbidden curse, and her mind was so bright, it dazzled him—but there were occasionally times when her body struggled to keep up. She’d always had a diminutive figure, but Shizuku had become even thinner than before, and they’d been through their fair share of ordeals. Although she maintained her usual cheerful demeanor, her fatigue had undoubtedly built up. Erik knew she put herself through more than she could cope with—which was why he felt obliged to keep an eye on her. There was a knock at the door, and Lyshien’s protector stepped inside. The man, who called himself Oscar, placed a few paper-wrapped parcels on the small table in front of them. “I got some magic medicines. Hopefully one of them will help her.” “Thank you. I’ll get her to try some,” said Erik. “Still, I really think you two should leave. You never know whether someone will report you to Farsas.” Erik was taking Lyshien’s situation into consideration, saying this. The sheer amount of sealing gear she was wearing had made him suspect that she possessed outstanding magical strength. Shizuku seemed to view it as nothing more than jewelry, but it actually served the purpose of restraining a mage’s powers. Under normal circumstances, just one piece would have sufficed, but Lyshien wore several such articles, so it wasn’t difficult to envision that her magical abilities were extraordinarily strong. Oscar, her defender, must have forbidden her from taking them off for her own protection. If Farsas found out about her, they might have viewed her as a threat and placed her under surveillance. One wrong move, and Lyshien could end up confined again. Erik’s advice brought an uneasy smile to Oscar’s face. “You saw through us pretty quickly, huh? I understand. We’ll be on our way. Give her my thanks when she wakes up.” “I will.” “Oh, and use this if you need it.” The man placed a pass for entry into Farsas alongside the bags of medicine on the table. They wouldn’t need to apply for permission to enter the country anymore—this pass allowed them to cross the border checkpoint, no questions asked. Erik’s eyes widened. He’d been unsure how they would get into Farsas. “Thank you. This will be a big help.” “I’m the one who should be thanking you,” said Oscar. “Perhaps we’ll meet again at some point. Next time, I hope I’ll be able to return the favor.” Oscar ushered Lyshien—who’d been waiting in the corner of the room—over to him, then said a short chant to open a transit gate right in front of them. The young girl bowed to Erik and then to Shizuku, who was still asleep. “Thank you…so very much. I hope we meet again someday.” “I’ll pass on the message to Shizuku.” Once the pair had vanished through the transit gate, Erik let out a sigh. He’d never imagined that the man who was taking care of Lyshien would be a mage, too. Plus, he seemed to have some involvement with the royal family. It all seemed quite complicated. Every nation had a few secrets they preferred to keep hidden. The larger the country, the darker the secrets. Erik was very aware of this fact—which was why he had no intention of probing further into the situation. He just hoped that Lyshien would be happy now that she’d broken free of it all. Erik had once known a girl who’d suffered the consequences after failing to escape a similar fate, and he prayed things would be different for Lyshien. “…You need to be careful, too,” he said to Shizuku, who was still sleeping. Erik placed his chair by her bedside and opened a book. There was no time limit to their journey. Shizuku’s health came first, and now that they had an entry pass, there was no need to panic. Perhaps it would be wise to extend their stay in this town for a short while. Erik kept an eye on Shizuku as he read. She was evidently having a dream of some kind, because her brow had suddenly furrowed, and Erik reached out to gently massage between her eyebrows. Before long, Shizuku’s expression relaxed, and her sleep returned to a more peaceful state. “There we go.” Erik gave a small nod, then turned the page of his book. Shizuku continued to oscillate between slumber and a semi-awake state, before waking up bleary-eyed three days later. “I…feel like I had a lot of dreams.” “That’s probably because you slept so much.” Erik had been doing some writing in Shizuku’s room when he realized she was awake, and he stood up and peered down at her face. The three days she’d spent in bed had left her looking a little gaunt, but her complexion was reasonably healthy. Erik put some water and medicine into a glass, then gave it to her. “Drink this. It’s a magic medicine that will help you get back on your feet.” “Is it okay to take on an empty stomach?” “Why wouldn’t it be? It makes no difference.” Erik found Shizuku’s question a little odd, but it made sense—magic didn’t exist in her world. This probably meant that medicine was made differently, too. Shizuku nodded and gulped it down. The sweat covering her body must have made Shizuku feel uncomfortable, because she tugged out her collar and looked inside her clothes. Mea had wiped her down and changed her clothes a number of times over the past three days, but Shizuku seemed to have barely any recollection of this. Shizuku spoke, sounding as if she were in a daze. “A long time ago, Shula appeared in the land of the living, taking the form of a really big snake.” “Huh?” “Shula used a huge number of dead bodies as puppets…and went to battle with Farsas.” “…Did you dream that, too?” She cocked her head to one side slightly, then nodded. Her dark eyes seemed to open into the boundless expanse of Negativity, making a shudder run through Erik. What kind of dreams had she had, sleeping all that time? Shula had never fought against Farsas in the form of a snake. There were no records of such a thing ever happening. It wasn’t as if the incident had been concealed, either, as there was no trace of it in Farsas’s secret records. Had the ordeal surrounding the forbidden curse in Candela simply left a lasting impact on Shizuku? After drinking the medicine, Shizuku stared at the empty glass. When Erik lifted it out of her hand, she looked up at him with a terribly worried look in her eyes. “Erik, I’m scared.” “Of what?” “I don’t know.” Shizuku changed her clothes, then immediately fell back asleep. By the time she woke up the next day, she’d completely forgotten their conversation. When she woke up, Shizuku was astounded to discover she’d spent four days in bed. She crossed her arms and frowned, then posed a question to the young man in front of her. “Uhh, are you sure you’ve got the right person?” “Who else would I be talking about? Just hurry up and eat.” “Can I take a bath first?” “Sure, but take Mea with you, in case you pass out again.” “Fine.” Shizuku could feel a lingering lethargy throughout her body from the fever, and she still wasn’t fully awake. She wanted to soak herself in hot water and let it wash away all of her fatigue. She stepped into the inn’s bathing room. Since it was morning, there was nobody else around. Unusually, there was a full-length mirror in the bathing area, and Shizuku casually glanced into it, but she was startled by her reflection. The naked figure looking back at her in the mirror was so emaciated that she could barely recognize herself. It was hard to believe that four days without food had brought about such a marked change in her appearance. “I—I look like I’ve been working myself to the edge of death or something. I’m such an idiot.” Erik had insisted that she was suffering from exhaustion, but Shizuku honestly didn’t feel like she was that tired. She was disappointed that she hadn’t been able to say a proper good-bye to Lyshien, but considering how long she’d been asleep, she was also relieved that they hadn’t waited for her to wake up. Shizuku took her time washing away her sweat and lethargy in the bath. It wasn’t the kind of bathtub that you submerged your entire body into. Instead, there was a footbath and a large basin of hot water for you to rinse yourself with. As steam filled the room, Shizuku soaked her feet in the footbath and stared at her thin arms. “I’m looking a little too thin…” In her old world, she’d often wished that she could lose weight—but now she urgently needed to put some weight back on. Shizuku went back into the changing room, where Mea was waiting, and the younger girl dried her hair for her. It had grown considerably since she’d been asleep. The assistant demon had transformed back into a young girl, and she looked up at Shizuku with relief. “I’m so glad you woke up.” “I’m sorry for making you worry,” replied Shizuku. “Were you okay after what happened?” “I was fine. That magic was just supposed to disorient us, so I was back to normal almost immediately.” Shizuku thought about the man with the gray hair. It sounded as though he was working for someone, but he’d left without putting up much of a fight. Shizuku wondered whether this would anger his master—but at the same time, she didn’t have any reason to worry. “I can’t believe I was asleep for four days. It didn’t feel like it at all.” Shizuku couldn’t help but wonder if, once she’d made her way home, her time in this world might feel as if it had gone by in the blink of an eye, too. It was a bittersweet thought, which proved how accustomed to this new world she’d become. Shizuku looked up at Mea, who was doing her hair. “What will you do when I go back to my old world?” “I would be honored to accompany you, if you gave me permission.” “I’d like that… Thanks.” Shizuku hated the idea of losing the people she’d met, the memories she’d made, and the person she’d become. In her old world, she’d hidden in her sisters’ shadows, unsure of who she truly was. Now, though, she felt like she’d grown into a person of her own. She doubted that would have happened if she’d stayed behind and had an ordinary summer vacation. If she managed to successfully return home at the end of this journey, what kind of person would she be by then? Shizuku glared at her face in the mirror—it looked nothing like you’d expect of an eighteen-year-old. The girl she saw in the reflection with the slightly hollowed cheeks seemed to be saying, “You don’t know what the future holds until it arrives.” She hadn’t felt it when she’d come out of the bath, but once she got to the restaurant where Erik was waiting, Shizuku finally realized how hungry she was. In fact, her stomach was so empty, it hurt. She took a seat at the table, which was already laden with a variety of dishes, and put her head down in an empty spot. “Ughhh. I’m starving.” “I’m not surprised,” replied Erik. “But start with something that’s easy to digest.” “Y-yeah, you’re right.” Just as Shizuku lifted her face, someone brought over a bowl of soup, almost as if they’d been waiting for her to move. Erik watched her intently as she sipped the broth, which was devoid of any solid ingredients. “How do you feel? Should we get a doctor to check you over, just to make sure?” “Oh, I’m fine. I think.” “Really? It sounds like there are lots of people trying to see the doctors right now, but as long as we make an appointment, it won’t take up too much of our time.” “What? Is there a cold going around or something?” Shizuku asked nonchalantly, holding a spoon in one hand. Erik didn’t respond right away, which made her suspicious, and when she looked at him, Shizuku noticed he was frowning slightly. He made that face only when there was a problem. “I’ve heard that an epidemic has broken out here, as well.” “Huh? Is it an airborne infection or something?” “Not quite. We’ll both be fine; it only affects children between the ages of one and two.” “Whoa… That doesn’t sound good.” Parents of young children must have been beside themselves with worry. Shizuku leaned forward at the table. “What kind of illness is it?” she asked. “Is it life-threatening?” “No—but it causes a language impediment.” “A language impediment?” “Yes. It’s actually spread quite far in the western part of the continent. Every nation is trying to put measures in place to curb it, but at present, neither the cause nor the cure has been discovered. Even Farsas has no idea what to do, and it’s become a major issue. Nobody seems to know whether it’s contagious or not. Its explosive spread began over three months ago, but so far, few children in the east seem to have shown symptoms.” It was a genuinely alarming topic. Come to think of it, Shizuku could remember Shisea—who’d taken care of her in the first town she’d stayed in—talking about the spread of an incurable disease in the west of the region that only children could catch. Even Shizuku, who hailed from a world with advanced medical science, was unsure what could have caused this language impediment outbreak. She didn’t know much about illnesses to start off with; her knowledge of medical science in particular was almost nonexistent. Moreover, there was a chance that the condition was unique to this world. Still, the news of an incurable disease wasn’t the only thing that was troubling Shizuku. Now that they had moved to a town near the border, Shizuku could ask Erik about the aftermath of the Candela Castle incident. “Unsurprisingly, Farsas has placed Candela Castle under their emergency control. After all, the king was among those who died.” “Oh, that makes sense. The throne room was in a terrible state. There were no survivors.” Shizuku reflected on the exchange she’d had with the Negativity in the throne room. She hadn’t told Erik about her conversation with that nonhuman entity, but looking back, the fact that it knew she was from another world was strangely terrifying. The curse had been hell-bent on chasing her and her alone. Was that because she was from another world? If Shizuku had been by herself in the castle, that snake could have ripped her to shreds. “I hope the rest of my team were safe,” said Shizuku. “I don’t know about that, but it doesn’t sound like anyone’s been arrested for trespassing.” Tarkis and Lydia came to mind, but Shizuku couldn’t even imagine where they were or what they were doing. Erik placed an old bookmark inside his book. “For the time being, Candela will have a substitute government, supervised by Farsas. King Oltovine of Rozsark is expected to handle the day-to-day running of the country.” “Oh, I recognize that name.” “Yes. He’s the man who freed Lyshien from her confinement. He must have some link to Farsas. There might be a complicated story there—a story that could explain why Lyshien and Oscar are avoiding Farsas.” “All of that feels like it’s worlds away from me.” “It’s best not to get involved.” Erik’s handsome face took on a solemn, gloomy look. His attitude toward royal families and members of the nobility seemed fairly cold. In fact, cold wasn’t all there was to it—on occasion, his attitude was unmistakably hostile. Shizuku attempted to analyze his behavior in a nonobtrusive manner, but Erik noticed her looking at him and forced a smile. “I’m sure Lyshien will be okay. She’s not alone.” “…That’s true.” Shizuku doubted she’d ever see Lyshien again. She just hoped that the princess would be able to keep her freedom. The Lyshien that Shizuku had spent time with, at least, was a totally ordinary young girl, just like Shizuku’s younger sister. Shizuku stayed in the inn for two more weeks after waking up, which allowed her to get some rest. In just three days, her skinny, emaciated limbs regained some flesh, and after a week, she started to look healthy again. She checked her reflection in the bathing room mirror once a day and did some simple muscle exercises to improve her physical condition. It was nothing like the workouts Tarkis did, but it was still something. Once her health was stable again, they would have to resume their journey. Shizuku never knew what she’d find herself up against in this world, but she felt like her physical strength was key. She still studied in the morning and afternoon, but she had also started going for short jogs in the morning and doing ab workouts before bed to help her build up a basic level of fitness. It was the daily routine of an ideal student on their summer vacation. “If my old world runs on the same timeline as this one, then summer vacation ended long ago, though.” “Why do you have an extended break in the summer?” asked Erik. “Probably because the heat makes it hard to study—or because kids need to help out on their families’ farms. In university, the faculty members also need time to conduct their own research, so that’s another factor. They can’t make much progress when they’re teaching and have all sorts of other tasks to worry about.” “I see.” Books and notebooks were spread across every inch of the spacious desk. Shizuku was checking through her handwritten dictionary, which listed words from this world alongside their Japanese equivalents, jotting down important vocabulary as she went. Meanwhile, Erik was cross-referencing the notes he’d made as he attempted to decipher a beginner’s German textbook that belonged to Shizuku. As soon as he’d grasped the language’s basic patterns, he dove straight into reading. That was just the kind of person Erik was. Being unable to comprehend Shizuku’s German-Japanese dictionary was a disadvantage, but going by the questions he’d pose to Shizuku from time to time, his understanding of German was already almost on par with Shizuku’s. At this rate, he’d eclipse her English skills as well in around six months. This thought filled Shizuku with an inexplicable agitation, causing her to grip her pencil even harder as she took down notes. Oblivious of her distress, Erik stopped writing and looked up from his book. “Japanese really is the hardest of them all.” “Yeah, I guess it is. People in my old world often say the same.” “There’s so much flexibility in the word order. It seems like you can discern some things just by looking at the particles, though.” Erik was pointing at one Japanese sentence, Ashita ni wa watashi wa toshokan he ikimasu, meaning, “I’m going to the library tomorrow.” He asked Shizuku why the particle he had been used in place of the particle ni, despite them both being grammatically correct and having the same fundamental meaning. For a few seconds, Shizuku was stumped for an answer. Explaining the subtle nuances of particle usage to someone who wasn’t Japanese was challenging. Why say ashita ni wa with the particles instead of just ashita for “tomorrow”? Why use toshokan he instead of toshokan ni when you wanted to talk about going “to the library”? While the meaning of the sentence would remain understandable, the choice of particles subtly altered the impression given by the sentence. It would take hours for Shizuku to efficiently convey these subtleties to Erik. “You hate it when parts of speech change case, but particle usage in Japanese is just as difficult.” “I—I guess you’re right.” People always commented on how many different conjugations there were in Romance languages and how hard it was to remember them all, but these languages were relatively flexible when it came to word order. Japanese was also malleable in terms of word order—but instead of relying heavily on verb and noun conjugations, the language employed particles to determine the structure of a sentence. From an objective standpoint, English and German actually felt like the most learner-friendly languages. Not only were there set conjugations and a greater number of prepositions, but the word order followed a consistent pattern. At any rate, Shizuku was glad she was Japanese. She stretched out her arms, having forcibly brought the discussion to a close. “Ahh…I’m getting a headache,” she said. “You should replenish your sugar levels and give your eyes a rest,” replied Erik. Shizuku laughed. It sounded like the kind of advice you’d give someone who was studying for a big exam. She was surprised by just how much she enjoyed times like this, where she and Erik could just sit across the table from one another and casually study together. “Ready! Sorry for making you wait so long!” “There’s no need to rush. Are you sure you haven’t forgotten anything?” “I’m sure.” Shizuku placed her bag on her horse’s saddle, put her foot in the stirrup, and lifted herself up. When she’d first started riding, the saddle had felt extremely high up, but now she was totally used to it. She used a rope to tie her bag in place and stop it from falling. Erik, similarly mounted beside her, checked to make sure that Shizuku was okay before lightly nudging his horse’s flank with his foot. The pair were about to set off for the northwestern border of Farsas. If all went well, they’d reach a town inside Farsas’s borders in two days’ time. The magic kingdom was finally within reach. Shizuku was excited—but not just because she might be able to go home. There was something else she was looking forward to. “I’ve still yet to see anyone flying. Do people use broomsticks in your world?” “Broomsticks?” asked Erik. “You mean to sweep?” “No, to put between their legs and fly…” “What for? That sounds like it would be a difficult way to move around.” The straightforward, calm way in which Erik replied made Shizuku realize how surreal the scenes she was imagining truly were. Aware of how bizarre her preconceptions were, Shizuku decided not to mention broomsticks ever again. Instead, she simply asked Erik how people flew. “They use a levitation spell to support their body in the air. If you’re skilled enough, that’s all it takes.” “Oh, so they basically use superpowers to fly.” “Superpowers?” “That’s what people call magical powers in my world. Most stories involving superpowers are fictional, though. Nobody knows whether they really exist.” “So where do the broomsticks come into it?” “Can we stop talking about broomsticks, please?” Shizuku had no choice but to forcibly shut the topic down. If not, Erik would have kept questioning her about it. By placing emphasis on the “please” at the end of her sentence, she had effectively brought the discussion to a temporary halt. The two horses trotted down the main road at a gentle pace. The greenery surrounding them made for a beautiful view, and every now and then, a pleasant breeze would waft toward them. On either side of the highway lay rolling hills, covered with lush grass that swayed gently in the wind. Shizuku had never seen sprawling scenery like that before, and she thought about her sisters, wishing that she could show them the breathtaking landscape. It had been about three months since Shizuku had found herself in this world. She wondered how her family back home would be feeling; her older sister might have cried, and her younger sister had likely been searching for information while bravely supporting the rest of the family. It was easy to imagine what kind of scenes might have played out. She wished she could let them know that she was okay, if nothing else. The world she’d ended up in was full of unknowns, but she’d been blessed with good people who had helped her out, and she was staying healthy. She squinted at the long, trailing road ahead, and a breath not quite deep enough to be a sigh escaped her lips. “What’s wrong?” asked Erik. “Nothing, really… I was just thinking about my family. Do you have any siblings?” Shizuku asked. “I have a young sister. I haven’t seen her in a long time, though.” This was the first time Erik had told her about his family. Even though Shizuku had been the one to ask the question, she was so surprised that she almost dropped the reins of her horse. “Um, can I ask what your family are like?” “Sure. They’re pretty normal. I have a mom, a dad, and a younger sister. I haven’t seen them for about ten years, though.” “Ten years.” Shizuku found herself wondering whether this was normal, but it wasn’t as if she could ask him that. Ten years ago, Erik would have only been twelve. Picking up on her confusion, Erik gave her a bittersweet smile and filled in the blanks. “I left home at twelve to study as a mage. I was born in a small village, you see. Since then, I’ve moved from place to place attending lectures and conducting research, so I haven’t gone back to my village at all.” “You mean Wanope isn’t your hometown?!” “No. I only moved there three years ago.” “Whoa… I assumed you’d spent your whole life there.” Shizuku and Erik had spent a fair bit of time together by now, but Shizuku still didn’t know the first thing about his life. She felt like she’d revealed a lot about herself, but perhaps that was because she’d felt so lost in this new world. She’d told him about herself and her family, and she’d even talked about school, written languages, and fairy tales. She would find herself sharing these things with him at random moments, and just having him listen made her feel less trapped. Being the kind of person he was, he always approached things from the perfect distance—he never pried, but he was never dismissive, either. “Thank you for everything you do for me,” she said. “Where did that come from all of a sudden?” Erik glanced over at Shizuku, his deep-blue eyes wide with surprise. The look on his face was strangely amusing, and Shizuku couldn’t help but laugh. “I make a point of thanking people whenever I feel like it.” “You know, sometimes I get the feeling that your thoughts are like stepping stones, all scattered around the place.” “But they’re still kicking beneath the water.” “Wait, the stones are swimming?” This image was even more surreal than that of people flying on broomsticks, and Shizuku burst out laughing, unable to hold it in. Stunned by his companion’s reaction, Erik gave Shizuku a dumbfounded look—but he swiftly concluded that Shizuku’s response was beyond the realm of his understanding, and he redirected his gaze toward the road. Before long, a large stone arch appeared in the distance ahead of them, standing alone amid the expanse of greenery. “That’s where they carry out the immigration checks,” Erik explained, pointing at the gate. “All we need to do is show them our pass, though.” “Don’t people ever just go around the gate?” “If they tried that, they’d get caught in the magic wards. Large countries tend to have detection wards in place, so if you don’t go through the inspection gate, you’ll trigger the sensors and be placed under surveillance. Once you reach the nearest town, you’ll be instructed to complete the necessary procedures there.” “Whoa… So there’s an invisible wall.” “Setting wards is easier than constructing a fence along the entire country’s border and installing gates everywhere. Do you have walls everywhere in your world?” “I’m from an island nation, so the sea acts as our border… But some countries have walls; some don’t. It varies.” The first border-separating wall that came to mind was the Berlin Wall, but that had already been destroyed by the time Shizuku was old enough to understand the world around her. It had been built in Germany, which was split into East and West Germany following World War II. Shizuku had initially assumed that this wall acted as the divider between East and West Germany, but in one of her high school classes, she’d found out that this was a misconception. In reality, this wall had served to split Berlin—which was situated inside East Germany—into western and eastern sections, and the wall that surrounded West Berlin was called the Berlin Wall. Apparently, many people had attempted to evade the eyes of the guards and sneak over the Berlin Wall—but a magic wall would have made this impossible. Once the pair had gotten down from their horses, they gave their entry pass to a soldier in front of the gate. The soldier glanced down at the document, then asked Erik a question. “You’re mages, huh? Are you coming here to study?” “Yes. There are some documents we want to take a look at in the castle city.” “If it’s the castle city you’re aiming for, then you should head southeast to the town of Laobbe. You should be able to get permission to use the transit rings, seeing as you’re mages. Plus, the festival’s going to be starting soon.” “Thank you.” That was their entire conversation. To Shizuku, it felt like a bit of an anticlimax, but she made sure not to let it show on her face as she climbed back onto her horse and passed through the stone gate. At last, Shizuku had taken her first step into the magic kingdom of Farsas. “Right, and then the heavy mortar fell on the monkey’s head…” “Ah. So mortars can move by themselves,” remarked Erik. “No, they can’t—and they don’t speak, either. It’s a folktale, so take it with a grain of salt. I think I picked the wrong story to tell you!” Still astride her horse, Shizuku found herself clutching her head in her hands. It was their second day in Farsas, and they’d decided to swap folktales to help pass the time as they traveled down the main road. Shizuku had foolishly chosen to tell Erik the Japanese folktale The Crab and the Monkey. This story, which was about getting revenge for a parent’s death, revolved around a monkey, a crab, and several other living creatures and inanimate objects. It bore resemblance to many other folktales of its kind, but Erik was the wrong person to tell it to. First, he’d asked, “Why are the crab and the monkey talking to each other?” followed by, “Do persimmon trees really bear fruit that quickly?” and the endless stream of questions had worn Shizuku out. “Don’t you have fables in this world? Ones where animals talk, for example…” “None that are well known. The only animals that can talk in fables and fairy tales are the ones that can talk in real life. Most of our fairy tales are based on true stories.” “Urgh. I expect nothing less from a world with magic.” Shizuku hung her head, overwhelmed by the culture shock, and Mea, perched on her shoulder, let out a little chirp. Shizuku’s assistant demon had witnessed firsthand the true story that a folktale was based on. Just as Shizuku was going to give up, a possibility came to mind. “Don’t you have any myths about gods?” “We do. Just old ones that have been passed down by word of mouth, though.” “That’s exactly what I meant! Tell me one!” Shizuku suspected that the absurd, preposterous nature of these myths might help bring Erik onto the same wavelength as her. The beings that people referred to as gods in Erik’s world tended to be especially high-ranking demons, but there had to be exceptions to that rule. Shizuku’s eyes were sparkling with excitement, but Erik just grumbled as he racked his brain for something to share. “There are loads of slightly different versions of the same story. Which one do you want to hear?” “That sounds promising. That’s what myths are like! Tell me the most famous version!” “All right, then. This story is about a god called Aetea. Until fairly recently, Aetea was the most revered god on the continent.” “Until fairly recently? Have things changed?” “It’s difficult to say. I think the majority of people are atheists nowadays. It’s not that people have any contempt for religion, but not many people actually believe anymore. Everyone’s different, though.” With that introduction, Erik began telling Shizuku one of the continent’s oldest myths. It was a myth about the creation of the continent. Long ago, there was just one continent in this world. It stretched all the way to the edges of the sea, and though there were some quarrels, the many people who made it their home largely lived in peace. In those days, there were no “countries,” as such. People worshipped five brothers—all of them gods—and enjoyed peaceful lives under their rule. One day, however, the brothers looked at the growing population and had a disagreement. The eldest brother wanted absolute control over the people and even suggested that the gods regulate their births and deaths. The second eldest brother proposed that they pick kings from among the humans to rule over the continent on their behalf and let the people war between themselves. The third eldest brother believed that they should not interfere any more than they already had. If there were too many people on the land, then the entire species needed to be annihilated. The fourth brother viewed humans as beings that should be protected, and he said that they should be left to proliferate as much as possible. The youngest brother, Aetea, insisted that since humans were intelligent creatures, they should be allowed to make their own decisions. All five brothers insisted that they knew best and refused to give in. In the end, relations between them broke down, leading to the four older brothers breaking off pieces of the continent for themselves and fleeing across the sea. Aetea, who was left alone on one of the five pieces of the continent, fell into despair, but eventually he went on to marry a human woman. When their children grew up, they, too, became gods and spread all over the continent, providing humans with nature that could enable them to survive on their own. “Ohh. That’s why people claim there are other continents, despite not having any contact with them.” “Basically, yes. It seems like they do actually exist, though. There are even records of humans from distant continents being rescued after their fishing boats got stranded.” Since Erik was the one doing the choosing, Shizuku had been worried that he’d tell her an extremely realistic-sounding myth, but this one was far more fantastical than she’d expected. She felt relieved but at the same time wanted to know more details. “Does the same story exist on the continent to the east?” “Apparently so. People say that the eastern continent was created by the second god—the one who recommended the people go to war against each other. I’m not saying that’s the reason why, but they saw even more battles during the Dark Age than we did, and strangely enough, you don’t get any spirit sorcerers over there.” “Spirit sorcerers are a type of mage, right?” “Yes. It’s a talent you have to be born with, and very few of them exist. It’s their aptitude for manipulating the forces of nature that sets them apart.” Erik and Shizuku were on the continent where the youngest god, who respected human dignity, had ended up staying. Shizuku remembered Erik saying that the gods he had fathered spread throughout the continent, so was it thanks to their blessings that spirit sorcerers were born here and not on the continent to the east? “The actual myth differs depending on the region. Sometimes, the gods’ proposals are different, and in some variants, the part about Aetea choosing a wife varies. From around a hundred years before the Dark Age began…meaning about a thousand years ago, most stories started to be documented in writing, but there are no written records whatsoever of the tales that predate that.” “I see. But that’s what myths are like. A lot of them have only ever been passed down by word of mouth.” From what Shizuku could remember, the majority of Japanese myths were recorded in famous books like the Kojiki, the Nihon Shoki, and the Fudoki. However, it was theorized that the Kojiki had been compiled from oral traditions. That wasn’t the only example, either; many ancient myths had been passed down through the spoken word. It wouldn’t be surprising if there was a period of time where myths were not recorded on paper at all, if you went back far enough. Erik responded to Shizuku’s comment with a simple “Yeah” and a dour look. Shizuku found this reaction a little odd, but he didn’t look like he was going to offer anything more. Instead, Shizuku voiced a question of her own. “Do you think Aetea really existed, Erik?” “No. High-ranking demons don’t have blood relations, so he couldn’t have had brothers, and he was far too powerful to have been a human mage. At the end of the day, most of the story was probably made up. That said, there might have been some sort of incident that caused that myth to surface…” “Yeah, I guess you’re right. They have myths about the creation of my country back home, too, but it’s not like there’s any truth to them.” Shizuku glanced at her shoulder and saw Mea sitting there, grooming her wings with her beak. Back when she was in her old world, Shizuku had assumed that magical birds existed only within the realm of fairy tales—but now a bird like that had become her treasured friend. When Mea noticed Shizuku looking at her, Shizuku broke out into a smile. “You know what? You never know what things are like until you experience them firsthand. You just have to dive in headfirst.” “I think that maintaining a slightly lower profile might be a wiser decision,” Erik said rationally, making Shizuku go quiet. Just then, they heard a rattling sound behind them, and Erik and Shizuku turned around in their saddles to see a stagecoach coming down the highway toward them. The pair moved toward the side of the road and waited for the stagecoach to pass by. “That stagecoach looks like it belongs to someone pretty important,” Erik muttered, looking over his shoulder. “Not a member of the nobility, but still.” “I guess it’s hard for us to predict how much respect they have for human rights, then.” Shizuku watched with considerable curiosity as the horse-drawn carriage approached. Made of wood, it looked like a small room built on wheels, and it definitely seemed the type of vehicle to belong to someone influential. One man rode in the coachman’s seat, and the curtains in the carriage window were drawn—but as it passed by, a shiver ran through Shizuku. “What’s the matter?” asked Erik. “Oh, nothing. I just felt like I made eye contact with the person inside. It was probably just my imagination.” She hadn’t noticed who the person was—just felt seen through the gap in the curtain. As Shizuku watched the stagecoach disappear off into the distance, she shook off the weird feeling she was having, and the pair resumed their southward journey down the road. It was just before they reached the town of Laobbe that Shizuku discovered her strange feeling earlier hadn’t just been all in her imagination. “I assume you two are travelers?” a tall man with a swarthy complexion asked. He looked to be in his late twenties and was well dressed with a long sword hanging from his waist. Shizuku thought he might’ve been the bodyguard to someone important or the like—an impression she got from the fact that he was standing in front of a parked horse-drawn carriage in the middle of the street. She wondered where the stagecoach that had overtaken them earlier had parked, and she glanced toward the town that awaited farther down the road. “You out of gas?” Shizuku quipped, but the man ignored her attempt at a joke. Erik, on the other hand, answered the man’s question properly. “You’re right, we are. What seems to be the problem?” The man with the sword on his hip gave Erik a straightforward reply. “The festival in Laobbe is about to begin. Since dignitaries will be gathering there, unknown individuals are forbidden from entering the town.” “Weh?!” If they couldn’t get into the town, then they’d have to stay by the roadside or camp out. The man ignored Shizuku’s strange squeal and continued. “I assume this might pose an issue for you, which is why I would like you to stay at my master’s residence until the day of the festival.” “Are you saying that you want to place us under surveillance?” “That’s one way of looking at it, yes. However, we’ll make sure you’re looked after during your stay. I don’t think it’s a bad offer.” This suggestion made Erik frown. Shizuku looked at the man from the side as she mulled over his sudden proposal. He essentially wanted to put them under a nice-sounding version of house arrest. It was like they’d stepped into a high-security area while a summit was being held. Shizuku gently whispered something to her traveling companion. “I don’t mind not going to the town, Erik.” Their plan had been to travel to the castle in Farsas using the transit ring in Laobbe; however, Shizuku didn’t care if they took a detour and went to another town. She didn’t want to restrict Erik’s options—but he remained stony-faced. “He’s making it sound like a suggestion, but I don’t think we have the right to turn it down,” Erik explained. “Huh?!” In contrast to Shizuku’s alarmed reaction, the man standing in their way just laughed. “I’m glad you caught on so quickly. I can’t give outsiders a pass, so if you choose not to comply, your available freedoms will be further restricted.” They hadn’t even done anything, yet he was treating them like would-be criminals. As Shizuku stared at the man in open-mouthed surprise, Erik, standing beside her, calmly asked a question. “How many days would it take for us to be freed?” “The festival is in six days’ time. Once it’s over, we’ll let you go. And if you want permission to use a transit ring, I’m sure we can figure something out.” It was a length of time that wasn’t particularly long, nor particularly short, and Erik turned to Shizuku with a bitter expression on his face. “I’m thinking of accepting his offer. Are you okay with that?” he asked. “Sure. I don’t think we have any other option…” Though she had become somewhat used to horseback riding, Shizuku still struggled to get her horse to gallop at full speed. If they’d be allowed to use the transit ring once the six days were over, then it was best for them to go along quietly. Once the pair had agreed to his proposal, the man signaled toward the horse-drawn carriage behind him. “Then I’ll ask you to move to the carriage right away. I’ll get some servants to fetch your horses later.” “T-that’s so strict…” Shizuku had ridden in a hooded stagecoach before, but this was the first time she’d seen the sort of carriage that people of status used. The pair got down from their saddles and passed the reins to the man. Hesitant to board the vehicle, Shizuku peered into the coachman’s seat, but all she saw was a large black cloth parcel lying on the floor. The man called out to her from behind. “Not that way. My master’s inside the carriage itself.” “Oh, okay…,” said Shizuku, startled. At the same time, Erik opened the carriage door to find a well-dressed man sitting alone inside. “Nice to meet you, dear guests. My name is Daytas, and I work as a merchant in the town of Laobbe. I acknowledge that you may feel constricted for a little while, but I appreciate your patience nonetheless.” The man flashed Erik a friendly smile. The carriage took them to Daytas’s residence. Since the curtains were closed, they couldn’t see what was going on in the town, and they didn’t see a single person as they were led to an external building on the estate. Once the pair had been left alone inside one of the rooms, Shizuku muttered something to Erik in hushed tones. “I’m not so sure how much these people respect our basic rights…” “They do seem pretty strict,” replied Erik. “This festival in the town of Laobbe must be quite unique.” Shizuku looked down at her bag, which was sitting by her feet. The olive-skinned man had made sure to take it off her horse and bring it in for her. He said that his name was Nay and that he worked as a bodyguard for Daytas. It was hard to work out what his intentions were, and she was honestly quite wary of him. Meanwhile, Daytas—who’d been the one to invite them in and had earned a reputation for himself at a young age as a merchant—seemed like a friendly and shrewd individual. He’d smiled and apologized for putting the pair in such a difficult situation, and he said that he’d pay for their meals and anything else they might need during their six-day stay. Erik looked around the spacious room that they’d been taken to for the time being. There were no windows, and the walls were filled with bookshelves. “This is certainly an impressive collection,” commented Erik. “They don’t look to be sorted at all, though.” “They’re not? Either way, it makes for a mesmerizing sight.” “Different genres and eras are all mixed in together. It’s as if they’ve just been crammed in at random. Still, there are some fairly valuable books on these shelves. It’s fascinating.” Shizuku just had to take his word for it. She couldn’t identify any of the volumes by their spines. As she stood next to Erik, gazing absentmindedly at the shelves, she happened to notice some white powder on the hem of her skirt. “Hm? How did that get on there? Whatever it is, it smells nice.” “What’s the matter?” The powder came off as soon as she wiped it with her hand, and it had a sweet, floral aroma. Just as Shizuku was about to respond to Erik’s question, Nay came back to take them elsewhere. “Bring your bags with you and follow me. You’ll be having dinner later. Daytas wants to hear what you have to say.” “I don’t think we have anything to talk about…” When Shizuku and Erik were inside the carriage, they’d told him that the purpose of their journey was to visit the castle city of Farsas for “academic reasons.” Of course, this was a lie, and there were a lot of things that they hadn’t said, but they had no intention of revealing anything more. Even so, Nay seemed unconcerned as he showed them to their respective rooms in the same building. Once they’d left their bags behind, they were shown to the dining hall. The food that was served consisted of the most luxurious dishes that Shizuku had seen since arriving in this world. The plates were adorned with an exquisite array of meats, fish, and vibrantly colored vegetables, and Shizuku couldn’t help but let out a cry of wonder. “This is incredible! It’s like the Last Supper!” “A little ominous, don’t you think?” Soon after the pair sat down, Daytas turned up. The slim man looked to be in his mid-twenties and was dressed entirely in gray—apart from his white gloves, which made him look very proper. “Sorry for making you wait. I know such an apology doesn’t make up for all the trouble I’m putting you through, but please allow me to extend a warm welcome to you both.” “Thank you so much!” They did feel constricted in a sense, but they still had delicious food to eat and a mountain of books to enjoy. What more could they ask for? As Shizuku savored her first taste of red-fleshed fish since arriving in her new world, she listened intently to what the man had to say. “In truth, I don’t really view the Laobbe festival as sacred. The festival itself centers around a reenactment of the god Aetea’s wedding, but I’ve only been in this town for a few years myself.” “Aetea’s wedding? To the goddess Ludia?” “Yes. I have been graciously invited to play the character of Aetea. Five girls are playing the role of the brides. The women seem to enjoy themselves, but I can’t say I’m very enthusiastic about a spectacle like this.” “Five people are playing the role of the bride?” said Shizuku, her curiosity piqued. As soon as she noticed her error, Shizuku went quiet. She suspected that not being familiar with the story of the most famous god on the continent would arouse suspicions. Neither Nay, who was waiting their table, nor Daytas seemed bothered by her ignorance, though, while Erik tried to help Shizuku out by saying, “That story might not be very well known where she comes from.” The story in question was the continuation of the myth that Shizuku had heard not so long ago. After his brothers went on their way, Aetea, alone and in a state of despair, embarked on a journey around what was left of the continent. He hid his divine status, intending to observe the humans from the perspective of an ordinary person. He sealed away his power as he traveled around, but various issues plagued him wherever he went. Some of these difficulties were chronicled in the form of myths, but some of them succumbed to the obscurity of history. As his journey was coming to an end, Aetea came to a forest near the town of Laobbe. At the time, the area was covered in thick woods, and Aetea wore himself out attempting to push his way through it. In spite of this struggle, he refused to use his divine powers. As he ventured farther into the forest, he relied solely on droplets of water from the leaves to quench his parched throat. Eventually, he reached a settlement deep within the forest. The villagers, whose lives were cut off from the outside world, were surprised to receive an unexpected visitor, and when Aetea begged for a place to stay for the night, they kept him at arm’s length. But just as Aetea was reluctantly leaving the village, five young women appeared before him, brimming with curiosity. Aetea asked them for some water, and a few of the girls appeared bewildered, while the others just smiled. When he asked them for their names, they didn’t even try to answer him. Instead, they began to run around Aetea, as if they were trying to encircle him, until finally he left the girls behind and escaped back into the forest. Then one young girl appeared in his path, almost as if she’d gotten lost looking for the others. She was the youngest and most innocent of them all, and without saying a word, she handed Aetea a jug of water. He thanked her, and she looked down, seemingly embarrassed. When he asked her what her name was, she told him: “Ludia.” This was the woman who would became Aetea’s wife. “Oh. Does this story get reenacted at the festival because it’s a local myth?” asked Shizuku. “It seems that way—but it sounds like they need one more woman to complete the reenactment. After all, there are six women in the story, including Ludia. Or maybe they’re all going to play Ludia?” “This sounds like a fun school festival…” Shizuku had heard about school plays where several people played the role of Snow White, for example, out of fairness. It seemed like things weren’t much different in this other world. Daytas smiled wryly as he cut into something that looked like an omelet. “No. We do need six people: five to play the women who ignored Aetea’s questions and one to play the role of Ludia. However, things didn’t work out with the girl who was meant to portray Ludia, and she is unable to return to town. My future prospects are at stake here, but to be honest, I have no idea how to proceed.” “She isn’t able to return?” Shizuku asked. “I assume she’s not a local, then.” The man gently shrugged in reply. “Her name’s Amabelle Lyshkariza, the daughter of a noble family from the south. We were going to use the festival as an opportunity to get married. It’s a strategic marriage, so to speak—a marriage between two towns.” “Huh? But if she can’t come to town anymore, then…” “She’s been complaining, saying that she doesn’t want to have a last-minute ceremony at the festival of a town she doesn’t even know. After all, she hasn’t even met me. Not only that, but she didn’t seem to like the idea of suddenly becoming the center of the town’s attention. I was going to be nominated as a town councilor under the condition that I marry her, and I’ve even made a pact with the most influential figure in town, Lord Deseuah, but if there’s no bride at the festival, everything is going to fall apart.” “That sounds like a really tricky situation…” Putting the pros and cons of strategic marriages aside, this festival was an opportunity for Daytas to receive an important promotion—and there was a risk that it was all going to come to nothing. Shizuku gave him a look of sympathy, which Daytas returned with a bittersweet smile. “At the end of the day, I’m an outsider. I’ve worked my fingers to the bone ever since coming to Laobbe, and this is what I have to show for it. The noble families in this town look down on me, and I’m used to that—but I never expected nobles from a whole other town to whine about me, too. My only saving grace is that the townspeople here are yet to find out about Amabelle’s tantrums…but when they see that there’s no Ludia at the festival, I won’t be able to cover it up any longer.” Daytas had a sadness in his eyes—it was the look of somebody who’d hit a wall, despite their best efforts. The class system that existed on the continent was likely a burden for those not in the higher ranks. “Is it too late to convince her?” asked Shizuku hopefully. “She’s refusing to come to Laobbe until the festival is over. I can’t use a stand-in, either; everyone already knows she has black hair and black eyes. You don’t find anyone who fits that description very often.” “Oh…” Shizuku remembered asking Erik about this shortly after their journey began. She hadn’t taken much notice of people’s hair and eye colors, so she didn’t realize that dark hair and eyes were particularly rare. Shizuku had been struck by the fact that Lyshien’s hair and eyes were a darker shade of black than hers, but it wasn’t something she would’ve noticed if the color hadn’t been so intense. As Shizuku was mulling over the topic, she noticed eyes directed toward her, and she looked up to see Daytas, Nay, and Erik all staring right at her. It took her a moment to realize why that was. “Huh? Are you suggesting that I be the stand-in?” The black-haired, black-eyed girl from another world pointed to herself, stunned. It was a sumptuous meal, but after a certain point, Shizuku had stopped being able to taste it. She had repeatedly turned down Daytas’s request for her to stand in as the role of his bride—but he was so unyielding that in the end she told him she’d think about it and returned to her room. “People will definitely realize…I’ll be standing in for a noble’s daughter. I almost feel bad for her.” “I’m not so sure about that. Daytas and Nay are the only people who’ve seen your face since you arrived. It would be different if you had to socialize with people, but this is a structured event. I doubt anyone would pick up on your lack of refinement.” “You’re not getting on board with this, too, are you?!” snapped Shizuku. “Seriously, I couldn’t deal with the pressure…” “I’m just talking about what would happen if you were to agree to it. I know you were sympathetic toward his current situation.” Erik was gazing at the bookshelves, looking as unruffled as ever. The pair had been given their own rooms, both with bookshelves. Arms crossed, Shizuku looked up at the ceiling. “Well, yes. This is a big deal… It’s like there’s this major project with a bunch of companies involved, but the boss’s daughter has messed things up by being selfish.” Shizuku had heard that Laobbe was a relatively new town compared to many of those in Farsas, which boasted a long history. Noble families from the castle city had moved here and channeled their own money into the town’s development, which, combined with the fact that it was a considerable distance from the castle city, resulted in Laobbe having a high level of autonomy. “I heard that the nobility and the council share the responsibility of governing the town, but is that the case all over Farsas?” “No. I actually think it’s quite rare. It seems that the councilors are decided through elections, but unless they have the backing of a noble family to begin with, it’s very hard to get elected. On paper, it’s a joint government, but the reality is that councilors’ powers only stretch as far as their noble counterparts allow.” “Hmm. It sounds like running for the council and serving on it are both pretty suffocating tasks…” Lord Deseuah, the most influential member of the nobility in Loebbe, had offered Daytas a place on the council under the one condition that he married the daughter of a noble family from the south. The family that Amabelle had been born into, the Lyshkariza family, had amassed their wealth following generations of success in merchant ship trading, and forging a connection with them was expected to benefit the town of Laobbe as a whole. Following the wedding, there was a plan to install a direct transit ring between Laobbe and the port town of Nisre, where Amabelle came from. If this plan became a reality, it was expected to transform commerce in the town completely. Amabelle Lyshkariza’s bold refusal to partake in the festivities stemmed not only from her concerns regarding Daytas’s promotion, but also from her reservations about the development of Laobbe. “If people find out that I’m a substitute, it’ll create an even bigger issue… I think he should be up front with Deseuah about the situation and come up with another solution.” “You can’t negotiate like that with members of the nobility—I believe that’s part of the problem. They can be unpredictable, and at times, their actions can seem illogical, yet they still possess unwavering influence.” “It’s not like we’re dealing with a Greek god here.” “If I may share my personal opinion, then I’m against the whole substitute plan. It’s too big a responsibility for you.” “It’s not that the responsibility bothers me…” They were enduring a form of enforced confinement, but Shizuku still felt like she owed Daytas something for the shelter and food he’d provided. She didn’t mind enduring hardships on her own terms, but still… “…I think I’ll have to turn him down. At this rate, I feel like I’m going to spin myself a web of lies and get stuck in it.” “Yeah, I think that’s a good decision. Tomorrow, you can tell him your mind’s made up.” Erik said good night and went back to his own room. Shizuku sat on her bed and called out to the small green bird sitting by her pillow. “You’ll be stuck in here for a while, Mea. I’m really sorry about that.” Shizuku suspected that people might view the fact that she had an assistant demon as suspicious, so she’d been keeping it a secret from Daytas and Nay. To them, Mea was just a bird. The bird chirped and spread her wings, and Shizuku lifted up the hem of her skirt. “Wait, what?” She took a closer look and realized that some sort of small gold sticker was stuck to it near where the white powder had been. “What could that be?” Up until then, the pleats of her skirt had kept it hidden, and she gently peeled off what turned out to be a piece of gold leaf about a centimeter long. It had a nice egg-like shape, but the upper half was slightly misshapen and had a dark smudge—likely because it had been stuck to her skirt. There was a delicate pattern drawn on it in silver, suggesting that it had originally been part of a decoration of some kind. Shizuku was bewildered, unsure how it had gotten stuck on her skirt. “Is this pure gold…?” Could she have accidentally snagged herself on a piece of gold furniture? After very carefully wrapping it in a scrap of paper, Shizuku left her room to ask Erik for advice. When she knocked on his door, however, nobody answered. She figured he’d gone somewhere to take a look around, but as she reluctantly made her way back down the dimly lit corridor, Shizuku happened to notice something gleaming outside the window. “…Oh, it’s Daytas.” There, she spotted the master of the estate standing behind a shrub in the dark courtyard. Dressed in the same clothes he’d had on at dinner, Daytas held a lantern and was looking down at the ground. He looked despondent, which pained Shizuku to see. Even so, she couldn’t agree to becoming his stand-in bride. Once he told one lie, he’d need to tell even more in order to cover it up. Whereas Shizuku could just pack up and leave town, Daytas would have to stay there as a councilor. “Mea, can you stay in here for a moment?” Shizuku pushed aside her melancholy temporarily and tucked the small bird safely into her breast pocket. Then she trotted down the corridor and headed outside. When she made it to the courtyard, Daytas was still there. “Daytas!” She called out to him from behind, making him jump with surprise. Daytas looked over his shoulder and smiled weakly. “What’s wrong? Have you forgotten something?” “No,” replied Shizuku. “It’s about what we discussed earlier… I really don’t think I can do it. My hair has quite a brown tinge to it, and I have totally different facial features… Plus, I was born and raised as a commoner, so I don’t even know how upper-class people act.” In a certain sense, Shizuku’s Japanese facial features stood out even more than her hair and eye color. Not only that, but she couldn’t possibly behave as the daughter of a noble family would. Daytas, however, tilted his head to one side, looking confused. “Do you think so? I thought your hair color was rather similar to Amabelle’s, and your behavior is not worth fretting about. I didn’t notice anything unbecoming while we were eating dinner together.” “Even so…those aren’t the only reasons. I’ve given it some proper thought, and I’ve decided to decline your request.” “Oh. But why?” Daytas narrowed his eyes at Shizuku. She looked up at him, then hesitantly started to speak. “First, I can’t bring myself to take on such a responsibility. And second, I think I should avoid doing things that could be used against you when you do become a councilor.” From Shizuku’s standpoint, it seemed like Daytas’s lies would come back to bite him when they were exposed. It might not have been the easy road, but she believed it would be in his best interests for him to maintain his integrity. Shizuku bowed her head in apology. “I’m sorry for being so brazen with my opinions, even though I’m just an outsider. I wish I could have been of more help, since you’re letting us stay here.” With that, Shizuku remembered the gold leaf that had been stuck to her skirt, and she took out the paper she’d wrapped it in. “Also, do you have any idea where this might be from?” She opened it up and showed him the gold leaf. Daytas didn’t answer. Finding this strange, Shizuku looked up at him. His face was cast in silhouette, making it hard for her to discern his expression. She couldn’t even tell what he was looking at. “Um, Daytas…?” “…I see. I didn’t realize something like that would be left behind.” “Huh?” Daytas suddenly reached out and grabbed Shizuku by the shoulders. His grip was so tight that it made Shizuku scream, and Mea, nestled against her chest, began to stir slightly. “Why do you think I came to this town? What do you think I’ve been working toward all this time? I can’t afford to let some young girls ruin it all for me!” “…Mea!” Shizuku cried out, feeling Daytas’s fingers dig into her shoulders with bone-jarring strength. An invisible power repelled the man’s arms, and the recoil sent Shizuku tumbling backward. Dirt and grass were scattered around, creating a faint, unpleasant odor. The one thing that left Shizuku truly bewildered, however, was the change she’d witnessed in the man in front of her. She simply couldn’t make sense of what had happened. Daytas scowled as he looked at his arms, which had been forcibly pushed away. His right sleeve was torn, revealing a bleeding gash underneath—Mea must have unleashed too much power. The man clicked his tongue in vexation. “She has something with her. Nay!” “Seems like an assistant demon. I’ll make her behave.” Nay emerged from the darkness and reached out toward Shizuku. He pointed at Shizuku’s chest with his tanned fingers, and the next moment, the small bird let out a cry of distress. Nay hadn’t even used an incantation. “Stop it!” What had caused the sudden shift in Daytas’s demeanor? Shizuku wasn’t certain, but after all the conflicts she’d witnessed throughout her journey, she could tell that they were serious. She desperately racked her brain, then began to speak, searching for a way out. “Please, stop this violence… I’m sorry you got hurt. I was the one who gave her the command.” “If you know you’re in the wrong, then listen to our proposal.” “Sure, if you want…” As Shizuku spoke, however, she noticed something about Daytas that made her eyes widen. Mea’s magic hadn’t just created a small tear in his sleeve—the rip extended right up to the back of his white-gloved hand. Underneath, Shizuku could see several cuts in his skin. Although they didn’t look fresh, they were definitely recent. In fact, they looked like… “Scratch marks?” They weren’t the kind of scratches he could have given himself. Come to think of it, Daytas hadn’t taken his gloves off even when he was eating. “…Who did that to you?” “Who knows? I suppose it must have been a cat,” Daytas replied. “Or—” All of a sudden, something clicked in the back of Shizuku’s mind, and realizing what it was, she clasped her hands over her mouth. Noticing that Shizuku had gone pale and silent, Daytas smiled. “What is it? Spit it out,” he said. He spoke in a self-deprecating tone of voice, suggesting that he likely already knew what realization she’d come to. That was why he was asking. Shizuku hesitated…then finally asked. “Where have you got Amabelle locked away?” “What are you talking about? She’s refusing to come to this town—I’m sure I already told you that.” “That was a lie, wasn’t it? You said my hair color was similar to hers, but at dinner, you claimed you’d never even met her… You contradicted yourself. She came to this town just as planned, didn’t she?” This was mere speculation—and Shizuku hoped she was wrong—but the scratches on Daytas’s arms looked like they’d been made by human nails. He gave Shizuku a smile, but it was full of rage. “You act like you’ve seen it all with your own eyes,” he snapped. “But do you know what she did? That woman called me a stray mutt. She said I should get on my hands and knees to thank her for marrying me. She’s beyond help. The nobility sees everyone other than themselves as cattle!” Shizuku gulped, intimidated by the outburst. Every single word that came out of Daytas’s mouth was brimming with fury. His emotions scattered like sparks through the dark garden, as if he thought his anger would prove that he was telling the truth. “It’s not as though I told her to obey me. I just told her that we needed to avoid interfering in each other’s business. But that woman tried to control me like an animal! She’s the kind of person who would throw stones at you to drive you away if you do something to upset them!” “B-but…” If what Daytas said was true, then Amabelle had acted rather arrogantly toward him. Considering he’d climbed the ranks solely due to his own efforts, that must have really hurt his pride. The look on Daytas’s face was contorted with a mixture of humiliation and anger. “Look at your feet,” he said. “Huh?” “Your feet. She’s showed up at the perfect moment.” Shizuku looked at the ground beside her hand. She could see something amid the scattered soil and unearthed mud. Whatever it was, it was faintly reflecting the small amount of light emitted by the lantern. That reflection had reached all the way to the window, and it came from a thin piece of gold leaf. It was egg-shaped, just like the thing Shizuku had found earlier— And it was stuck to a white fingernail buried in the dirt. “Huh?” Shizuku couldn’t comprehend what was happening. She stayed frozen to the spot as Daytas haphazardly kicked at the dirt. Mea’s magic had gouged out a hole in the dirt, and he started sweeping it away with the toe of his boot. The pale hand of a woman came into view. Gradually, her arm, covered by the sleeve of her dress, and her shoulders appeared from underneath the soil. However, that wasn’t all. Next came her white face—followed by her neck, which bore marks made by human fingers. “Stop!” Shizuku yelled. Daytas covered her mouth with his hand, then grabbed hold of the lower half of her face as he taunted her. “This is what happens to those who don’t see their fellow humans as people. Has that sunk into your thick skull yet?” As she listened to his whispered threat, Shizuku watched that out of the corner of her eye. The grass must have been keeping it covered before, but what had emerged from the dirt was a person who was already dead. A corpse had been buried right beneath her. Shizuku groaned with terror. The powder that had been stuck to Shizuku’s skirt must have been Amabelle’s face powder. When she thought about the timing of it, it made sense that both the gold leaf and the powder had stuck to her while she was in the horse-drawn carriage, and the edge of the gold leaf she’d picked up must have been distorted and discolored because Amabelle had scratched Daytas’s hand with her nails. Shizuku could also recall there being a large black parcel in the front of the carriage. “That body was in the carriage when we got on…,” said Shizuku. “Hmph,” replied Daytas. “It seems you are of average intelligence after all.” Standing underneath the moonlight, Daytas gave Shizuku a sickeningly cruel smile. Any hope that he might revert to the man he had been was lost. “You wanted to know where Amabelle was? That should be obvious by now—she’s the woman right in front of me.” His anger had dissipated, leaving something else in its place. Shizuku, who was still sitting on the ground, listened in silence. “You are Amabelle Lyshkariza,” announced Daytas coldly. “Now, let that sink in.” The sunlight pouring in through the window caressed Shizuku’s eyelids. Dragging herself out of a deep slumber, she opened her eyes. “Oh. Are you awake, Amabelle?” Hearing an unfamiliar woman’s voice, Shizuku was reminded of everything that had happened the night before, and she jumped up in bed—to discover that she was not in her room in the external building, where she’d spent the previous night, but in the main house, where Daytas lived. It was so ridiculously luxurious that it made her head hurt. The maid who’d spoken to her was about the same age as her mother. She greeted Shizuku with a friendly smile. “My name is Auna. I will be taking care of you.” “Oh, thank you,” replied Shizuku. “…I’m Amabelle Lyshkariza.” She couldn’t use her own name. And Mea wasn’t around anymore. Shizuku rose from the pure white bed, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on her. Amabelle Lyshkariza no longer existed. She had been killed following a quarrel with Daytas, who’d gone to bring her to his estate. The same day that Shizuku and her companions had met Daytas, Amabelle had gone to visit him at a villa he owned, but when the topic of conversation turned to the festival and their wedding, Amabelle had broken things off with him. Thoroughly humiliated, Daytas murdered Amabelle in a fury and tossed her body onto his horse-drawn carriage. On his way back to his residence, Daytas spotted Shizuku and decided to approach her. “He approached me with the intention of making me Amabelle’s replacement…,” Shizuku mumbled to herself as she washed her face in a clay washbasin. Shizuku hadn’t been imagining it when she’d sensed someone watching her from the stagecoach that overtook them. That was when Daytas and Nay had spotted her and decided that they could use her as a stand-in for Amabelle. Their assertion that outsiders should steer clear of the festival was merely a ruse to capture Shizuku, and they’d ensured that nobody but themselves had seen her since she arrived in town so that they could use her as a substitute. Auna, for example, genuinely believed that Amabelle had arrived in town to take part in the festival. If Shizuku had meekly agreed to acting as Amabelle’s stand-in that first night, Daytas’s crime might never have come to light. In the end, however, Shizuku had stepped right into the lion’s den—and now she had no choice but to play the role of Amabelle. The festival was in five days’ time. There wasn’t a moment to waste. “First things first—I need to save Mea and get in contact with Erik…” Shizuku had been detained in the courtyard the previous night and thrown into this room. Mea had been sealed away by Nay and taken as a hostage. Shizuku really wanted to ask Erik for his advice, but now that she knew the truth, she was going to be under constant surveillance. If she acted recklessly, anything could happen to them. Daytas had an unpredictable personality, and Nay seemed to possess a mystical degree of power. Shizuku could feel anxiety creeping over her—a sensation she experienced fairly regularly—and she slapped herself on the cheeks to snap herself out of this state. “Are you all right in there, Amabelle?” asked Auna. “Yes!” Shizuku wiped her face and walked out of the bathroom. Auna tried to help her get dressed, but she refused. There were still marks on her shoulders from where Daytas had grabbed hold of her, so she had to keep them hidden until they disappeared. Auna combed Shizuku’s hair, which had grown a little past her shoulders, then let out a cry of admiration. “You really do have beautiful black hair, Amabelle. It must just be the southern sea breeze that’s made it a little wild.” “Oh, y-yes, I’m sure.” “I’ll tidy up your ends later. For now, let me apply some hair oil.” Their conversation trailed off, which filled Shizuku with relief. At this rate, cracks in her act were bound to show. She wasn’t even from the same world as Amabelle, so there was no way she could keep up the charade for very long. “I’m sure it will be a lovely ceremony. The town church is always very busy. Once you’re married, Daytas will become a member of the council, so guests from the nobility will also be in attendance.” “…I—I see.” Shizuku wanted to escape before it came to that, if at all possible—but first, she needed to get a better grasp on what was going on, so she tried asking Auna a question. “Are there any other guests in this residence?” Could she get in touch with Erik in some way? As Shizuku grasped for a solution, Auna just tilted her head to the side in thought. “Well, I think there was somebody in the detached building yesterday, but it seems like they left early this morning. In fact, they left when you arrived.” “Huh…” Astonished, Shizuku looked at Auna’s reflection in the mirror. There was no way Erik would have left her behind. Had Daytas kicked him out now that he no longer had any use for Erik? The color began to drain from Shizuku’s face, but at least they weren’t keeping Erik locked away, at least as far as she could tell. She just hoped she could save Mea and break out of Daytas’s residence. Once Shizuku was ready and Auna had left the room, Shizuku went over to the room’s third-floor window and looked around. “For now, I just want to find a way out…” Shizuku stared motionlessly out the window. The courtyard where she’d been the previous night was shaded by trees and difficult to make out. When Erik woke up in the morning, the girl he’d been traveling with was gone. This was an unexpected development that he definitely hadn’t seen coming. Unusual for her, Shizuku hadn’t woken up and come to him, so Erik had gone to her room instead. When he realized that both she and Mea had vanished from her unlocked room, he inquired with the master of the house. “Shizuku’s gone. Do you know why?” Daytas, who had shown up after hearing about Erik’s concern, responded to this unambiguously pointed question by shaking his head. “Unfortunately not. Are you sure she hasn’t just gone out for a walk?” “Her things are still here, but she’d never just go out without telling me.” Either she’d been abducted, or she’d found herself in a situation where she couldn’t get back. With a sigh, Daytas asked Erik a question of his own. “Are you suggesting that someone broke in? Was the door locked?” “When I checked, both her door and the entrance to this building were open.” “Then she must have left of her own accord. We keep both of the keys for safekeeping, but there’s no sign that they’ve been used. The entrance is locked at night, but it can also be opened from the inside.” Unable to argue against this, Erik fell silent. There was a side of Shizuku that would dive into situations headfirst, unable to ignore what was happening right in front of her. However, that didn’t mean that Daytas wasn’t involved. Erik thought to himself for a moment, then spoke up. “I want permission to search for her.” “You’re very welcome to, but Nay will accompany you while you’re inside my residence. There are a number of areas you are forbidden to enter.” Erik frowned slightly at that, but his reply came smoothly. “Of course. I mean, you don’t know whether she and I have been conspiring together, and if she’s disappeared to search your house.” “…I’m not accusing you of that.” Unable to conceal his discomfort, Daytas looked over his shoulder at Nay, who’d accompanied him, but the other man only gave a calm, faint smile. “I have things of my own to take care of—but I can join you on your search this afternoon.” “That’s fine with me. I’d also like to search the town. Give me permission to leave your residence.” “Fine. Tell me when you’re leaving. Just make sure nobody gets wind of what you’ve seen or heard here, and hide the fact that you’re an outsider. Keep your trips in and out to a minimum. I’m busy negotiating with Amabelle and putting preparations in place for a replacement in case things fall through.” “I understand. Thank you for your cooperation. I’ll leave right away.” It seemed that Daytas really was busy, because once the pair had come to an agreement, he swiftly left the outbuilding. Having been left behind, Erik thought things over for a short while. Then he started to get ready for his trip into town. Shizuku couldn’t eat even half of her breakfast. Once she was done with her meal, Auna served her some tea and made an announcement. “After this, the town dressmaker is coming for your final meeting about your bridal dress.” “…My bridal dress? …Will it fit me?” “Of course it will. It’s been sent here from your family home, so I’m sure it will look wonderful on you.” Shizuku realized that she’d probably asked an awkward question. Sensing a cold sweat on her back, she smoothed it over by adding, “It’s just that this new environment has caused me to lose a little weight.” But Auna carried on, seemingly unconcerned. “There are only five days left until the ceremony, so we have a lot to do. Don’t worry, though—the town festival will be spectacular. I’m sure you’ll love it.” Shizuku responded to Auna’s enthusiasm with a vague smile. Regardless of how good the festival might be, Shizuku hated the role she would be playing in it. First and foremost, she knew nothing about what lay outside this residence. There was no way that she could get excited about it. Once breakfast was over, Nay supervised Shizuku as she moved to the next room. “I advise you not to entertain the idea of escaping,” he said shortly after they’d begun walking down the hallway. Shizuku couldn’t help but feel annoyed. Daytas and Nay were the only people who knew she wasn’t really Amabelle. When she spoke, her words prickled with anxiety. “You’ll kill me if I don’t keep quiet, won’t you? Believe it or not, I value my own life. More to the point, where are Erik and Mea? What’s happened to them?” “The assumption is that you have gone missing. The man went into the town to look for you, while your assistant demon remains in our care. Once the ceremony is over, you can have her back.” “…Don’t hurt her. Are you a mage?” “No—but I’m not an ordinary human, either. Regardless, that has nothing to do with you. Focus your energy on eating properly instead.” Shizuku figured he was giving her this unexpected warning because he’d seen how much food she’d left on her plate. “You’re thin,” he continued. “You need to eat as much food as you are served.” “I only wish I could enjoy my meals… Are you worried that my dress won’t fit? I doubt I can put on enough weight for that in five days.” “That’s not the issue. I’m just telling you not to worry any more than necessary. You’re not from this town, and you’re not even a member of the nobility. Once the ceremony’s over, you should be set free.” Shizuku had almost brought up the dead body she’d seen the day before, but Nay’s hopeful words made her keep her mouth shut. The dressmaker was waiting for her in the room she was guided to. Several maids offered to help out, but she shook them off, and once she was alone in the dressing room, she reluctantly put on the bridal gown. When she came back out, she was alarmed to discover that Daytas was there. The dressmaker let out a cry of admiration. “Well, would you look at that! It’s not every day that I get to see a bride as pretty as you. What do you think, Daytas?” “What can I say? I’m a happy man.” What a liar, Shizuku thought—but she kept this comment to herself. The dressmaker checked her measurements, then cocked her head in confusion. “Did you lose some weight? You seem to be slimmer all over than the measurements from your dressmaker in Nisle suggested.” “I—I’ve just been suffering from pre-wedding blues,” Shizuku said, immediately coming out with an excuse. Everybody else in the room looked perplexed, and when Shizuku noticed this, she hastily rephrased herself. “I mean, I think I’ve lost weight because of nerves.” It might just have been one comment, but Shizuku knew that she needed to be more careful from now on. She pasted a sweet smile on her face and thanked the dressmaker. The old lady took a few steps back, gazed at Shizuku, then tilted her head slightly to one side. “How about a bit of a longer veil? I have several in stock back at my shop.” Was this Shizuku’s big chance? She hesitated, glanced back at Daytas, then swiftly came to a decision. “I’d like to see them for myself before I pick one. Would I be able to take a look?” “That would be no problem at all! I’ll finish my other jobs early and come back this afternoon.” “Er, could I come and pick one right away? I hate the thought of taking up any more of your time.” Shizuku wanted to leave the residence and go into town. That was where Erik had gone to look for her. Daytas had probably worked out what she was intending on doing, but since everybody else saw her as Amabelle, he couldn’t stop her right away. His only real option was to keep her confined and threaten her. And after the ceremony was over, he’d no longer have any need for her, so this was really her only window of opportunity. Shizuku was betting on this slight possibility working out, which was why she’d asked to see the veils. Her legs were trembling beneath her dress. If Daytas had shot her a menacing gaze, she wouldn’t have known what to do—but he was surprisingly forthcoming in giving her his permission. “If that’s what you want, then go ahead.” Shizuku was shocked by this response. Daytas glanced at her, as if there was something he wanted to say, then left the room, leaving Nay behind. As he did, Shizuku caught a glimpse of his eyes. It wasn’t a threatening look she saw, nor one of resentment—instead his gaze was vacant. Like a wild wasteland. Shizuku felt like there was a word to describe that expression, but no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t think it. She stayed glued to the spot, letting the frustration drive her crazy until Auna eventually called out to her. When Shizuku stepped down from the horse-drawn carriage, she found herself in front of a shop that faced out onto a large street. Several pure-white bridal gowns were on display in the window, and she could tell by the shop’s exterior that it was a luxurious establishment frequented by wealthy customers. Nay took Shizuku by the hand and led her inside. The moment she set foot inside the shop, a row of employees bowed to her in unison, causing Shizuku to tense up. Nay, who was surveilling her under the pretense of being her bodyguard, casually pushed Shizuku forward, guiding her farther inside the shop. Everything inside the shop’s spacious interior was eye-catching and white, and Shizuku gazed at the countless gowns that were on display. “They’re so beautiful…” “Thank you very much,” replied the dressmaker. “The veils are this way, Amabelle.” Being called Amabelle brought Shizuku straight back to reality. If she let herself get preoccupied, then the risk she’d taken to get here would have all been for nothing. Members of the staff came and went in rapid succession as they brought Shizuku different veils. As she was taking a look at them, she attempted to inconspicuously glance out the window. At long last, she was able to see the streets of Laobbe. It really was a pretty place. Laobbe might only be a provincial town, but it seemed around the same size as Candela’s castle city. The buildings were colorful, with some painted red or green, and an endless stream of pedestrians filled the streets, with rows of flower decorations hanging from the eaves of stores—signs of the festivities to come. Shizuku chose the longest of the veils that had been lined up for her, thinking that it would obscure her face the most. Then, saying that she’d like to see some other accessories, she walked around the store and noticed a map on the wall. The map, which was elaborate and likely valuable as a piece of art, seemed to depict the town from above. With the exception of the central square, the entire town was structured in an orderly manner like a checkerboard. Shizuku turned back to Nay, who was standing behind her. “Where is the church that I’m getting married in?” she asked. “In the central square.” Shizuku looked out the shop window, wondering if she’d be able to see it, but a tall building directly opposite was obstructing her view. She gave up, but just as she was about to look away, she spotted a familiar young man among the crowds of people. “Er—” She had almost called out his name, but instead, Shizuku looked over her shoulder to see Nay’s piercing, cold stare. His sword hung from his waist, even in the dressmaker’s shop, and his gaze chilled Shizuku to the core. Overwhelmed by this menacing look, she turned pale. Shizuku doubted Nay had noticed Erik. He was just watching every single move she made. Perhaps having detected her agitation, he drew a step closer to her and whispered something in her ear. “If you try to escape, I will kill someone else in your place.” “Wha…?” “Do you think I’m bluffing? Want to try it out?” Judging by his tone of voice, he was completely serious. Shizuku knew he wasn’t just trying to threaten her. Daytas had let her leave only because Nay was there—a fact that was just now sinking in for Shizuku. She smiled uncomfortably. “It’s nothing. Sorry.” Shizuku left Nay behind and went back to the center of the shop, where a number of accessories had been laid out for her to look at. She spotted a pure-white quill and asked a shop employee about it. “Can you really write with this?” “Of course. It’s what you’ll use to sign your marriage vows.” “Oh,” responded Shizuku, stroking the soft feather with her fingers. She dipped it in a bottle of ink, then used it to make little swirls on a piece of nearby testing paper. Nay peered over her shoulder. “Amabelle, I think it’s about time we went home,” he said. “Okay. Thanks.” Shizuku weaved through the employees, who were bowing to her again, and left the shop—but as soon as she went through the door, she almost tripped on the flagstones, figuring her high-heeled shoes were to blame. “Agh!” Nay grabbed her from behind to keep Shizuku from falling, but her shrill cry attracted the attention of the nearby onlookers. “I-I’m sorry.” “Be careful.” He pushed her into the horse-drawn carriage, just like he had earlier, and Shizuku squinted at the little she could see of her surroundings from the window. I’m sure I’ll reach him, she told herself. Things are sure to work out somehow. Once the guest of honor had left and the staff at the dressmaker’s shop were making the final alterations to her bridal gown, they were visited by a male customer. He hadn’t come with a woman, which puzzled them, and his deep-blue eyes were so intense that the seamstress who went to greet him flinched. “Was there a girl here before?” he asked. “She’s young with black hair… Her features are a little unique. I thought I heard her voice.” “I apologize, but we can’t disclose any information about our customers,” replied the seamstress, gently rebuffing his inquiry. Even so, she couldn’t help but be charmed by his handsome face. “…Did I mistake her for someone else?” He’d heard someone who sounded a lot like Shizuku let out a yelp—but since he’d seen her only from the side, he’d been unable to see her face. Still, it was hard to imagine that Shizuku would stop by a bridal store. Just as Erik was about to leave the white interior of the dressmaker’s, he spotted a piece of paper on a nearby table. Someone had drawn some soft, curved lines on it, perhaps testing out the ink. “…I see.” It was something that Nay, who’d been keeping a close eye on Shizuku, had missed. After all, he never would have imagined that those curved lines could be letters. But Erik knew. Shizuku had taught him them herself. Scattered around the paper were three English words: true, bride, and killed. The true bride had been killed. Erik frowned at the message that Shizuku had written in cursive, then he silently left the shop. “I guess they’re using her as a stand-in after all,” he muttered to himself. Erik had been suspicious of Daytas from the outset, and the day after telling them about his troubles, Shizuku had disappeared. It was all too convenient. Plus, as soon as Erik had mentioned that he wanted to search for her, Daytas had told him that some rooms inside the residence were out of bounds. Since the door leading outside had been open, any normal person would have assumed that Shizuku had gone into town, but Daytas’s mind had drifted elsewhere for one specific reason—he knew that Shizuku was inside his home. “It was Daytas who suggested I look inside his residence,” Erik said to himself, “so I doubt I’ll find her in there.” To complicate things further, there was no way he could confront Daytas head-on. Daytas’s own abilities aside, Erik had no idea what Nay was capable of, but the fact that Mea had also gone missing was proof enough that Erik would be outmatched. Shizuku wasn’t used to dealing with an assistant demon, and Mea wasn’t used to fighting, but neither of those things mattered—the fact that Daytas and Nay had managed to take care of a mid-ranking demon was a testament to their skill. Further still, these men had already killed Amabelle. They would stop at nothing to get what they wanted, so Erik needed to come up with a plan as well. Deep in thought, he walked down the bustling streets on his way back to Daytas’s residence. Before he met with Nay that afternoon, Erik grabbed his things and fled. When Shizuku came back from the bridal shop, she went to her room and ate lunch there. That, however, was when her brief return to house arrest ended. After she’d finished her meal, Nay turned up holding a small box. “Your companion has disappeared,” he announced. “Huh…?” Shizuku’s eyes widened. Leaving that note had been a last resort—but Erik being Erik, he’d actually spotted it. She was astonished, but what Nay said next quickly brought Shizuku back to reality. “He’s a pretty smart guy. He slipped out from under our watch.” “Does that mean…?” “He must have worked out that Daytas is holding you here. If we’d just killed him in the beginning, we could have saved ourselves all this trouble,” Nay said casually, leaving Shizuku speechless. Erik could have been killed just because Shizuku happened to have black hair and black eyes. This didn’t make any sense to her. It was too hard to wrap her head around. Feeling more confused than scared, she clenched her fists. “How could you possibly treat people like that…?” Was that how far Daytas was willing to go to become a councilor? The man was completely impossible to understand. As anger surged within Shizuku, her fists began to shake. “That was just a hypothetical,” Nay added, glaring at her. “Daytas wouldn’t have actually killed him. You guys are different from Amabelle and that other man.” “Different how?” Nay tossed the small box he was holding at Shizuku. She caught it in a panic, then opened it. Inside was a small green bird. “Mea!” She didn’t look like she was going to be opening her eyes anytime soon, and a black belt was wrapped around her small body like a bandage. “What is that…?” “It’s just there to seal away her consciousness,” explained Nay. “It’ll disappear on its own in five days’ time. Pure demons are vulnerable to the powers of beings from other realms.” On closer inspection, the black belt didn’t look like it was made of fabric, as Shizuku had initially assumed. It had an immaterial quality more like smoke coiling around Mea’s body. Nay had admitted that he wasn’t a mage or an ordinary human. Was this substance a product of Nay’s unusual abilities? Holding the small box close to her chest, Shizuku asked him a question. “Why are you giving Mea back to me?” “No reason. I’m just telling you to carry out your role. We don’t have much time, so you need to hurry up and come to terms with that.” Nay went and stood by the desk in the room and knocked on it, as if telling Shizuku she had better get studying. She still couldn’t decide whether he was scary, or whether he might surprise her and be reasonable. Shizuku hesitated, then placed Mea on the windowsill and sat down in front of the desk. Nay told her how the ceremony would work and what things she needed to do. Not only was there a detailed schedule, but he also taught her things like how and from which entrance she should enter the church and when it was appropriate to bow. There was so much information, it felt like her head was going to explode. “Is there really not a more suitable stand-in? I don’t feel very confident about all this…” “We don’t have time to find one. The more people involved, the more problems will arise. Just make sure you don’t fail.” Unable to argue back, Shizuku bit her tongue, and with a pained expression on her face, she recalled what she’d learned. First, she had to enter alone and stand by the five brides at the back of the church. Then Daytas would enter. He would take each of the five brides’ hands and ask them for their names, but they would ignore him and refuse to answer. Finally, he would take Shizuku’s hand. She would respond, “I’m Amabelle Lyshkariza,” and then they would sign their names on their marriage vows. That was the general order of proceedings, at least. “So it’s a reconstruction of the myth of Aetea… Do you have outfits ready for the other five brides, too?” she asked. “No. They’re all daughters of local noble families. They put themselves forward for these roles, so they prepare their own costumes. They’ll be dressed up to the nines, with both theirs and their parents’ vanity on full display.” “Ugh… That sounds awkward enough in itself.” Nobody would be able to tell who the main character was. The real Amabelle might have been able to compete with the other girls, thanks to her strong-willed nature, but Shizuku was exhausted just hearing about them. She let out a deep sigh, but then came to a sudden realization and looked up at Nay. He usually seemed so impassive, but his tone of voice had shown hints of animosity when he’d been talking about the noblewomen. “Do you hate the nobility, too?” Shizuku observed a ripple of emotion in Nay’s eyes. Although this look bore no resemblance to Daytas’s earlier wild gaze, she was reminded of it nonetheless. There had been a world of drought, desolation, and deprivation behind those eyes—a vast expanse that pushed away everything that entered it. Nay must have been surprised, because he flinched and stared intently at Shizuku before abruptly averting his gaze. “I’ll get you out of that church as soon as the ceremony is over. As soon as you meet back up with that guy, you two should leave town.” With that, Nay fell abruptly silent. Shizuku didn’t know what he really wanted to say, but she could sense an emptiness there, and she kept quiet, too. There were a few sights that came flooding back whenever he closed his eyes, even after so much time had passed. The smiling faces of the town children as they threw stones at him. The way the grown-ups looked at him with disdain, as if he were a piece of dirt. His mother’s hands as she embraced him. The cold stare of that young girl. Recalling these sights brought him no joy whatsoever, and yet he couldn’t forget them even for a second. He didn’t even want to erase those memories. He was constantly trapped inside them, even now. In the end, he’d never be able to break away. He’d be stuck in this dry wasteland forever. At the end of the day, his only way out was— “Have you learned what you have to do?” “Mostly,” Shizuku responded succinctly as she sat across from Daytas at the dinner table. He wasn’t the kind of person she could have a long conversation with. Daytas was demanding a certain result from her and nothing more, but unfortunately for Shizuku, her life depended on whether she gave him what he wanted. Shizuku didn’t want to act subservient toward the man who was threatening her, but she didn’t feel like recklessly picking fights, either. “Don’t mess this up. Everyone’s attention will be on how you behave,” he told her. “I’ll try my best. I’m aiming to be perfect.” “Good.” It was hard to imagine any other soon-to-be-married couple having a conversation like this. If someone unaware of the current situation were present, they’d surely be scowling at the couple’s behavior, but the only other person in the room was Nay. He was acting as the pair’s waiter. Whenever Daytas looked away, she’d glance at Nay’s eyes. She couldn’t tell what was worrying either of them, but every now and then, she sensed something was off about the two men. They both had a sort of far-off look in their eyes that was impossible to define. There was probably no point reading into those vacant gazes—Shizuku doubted there was much to be gained from understanding a murderer. Even so, that emptiness was impossible to ignore, and Shizuku found herself peering into Daytas’s eyes nonetheless. “What’s wrong?” Before Shizuku had the chance to look away, he shot her a piercing glare, and Shizuku tensed up, startled. She’d almost dropped the glass she was holding. “N-nothing.” “Don’t lie. I can see right through you.” There was something, but there was no way she could put it into words. Flustered, Shizuku searched for the right words—and ended up voicing a totally unrelated concern. “What will happen to me once the ceremony is over?” Nay had told her to leave town, but his words carried only so much influence. If his master said no, then she imagined he’d be overruled. Simply asking the question might have been risky, but Shizuku wanted to check what Daytas himself was thinking. The man glanced at her momentarily, and another dry wind blew beyond his eyes. Shizuku felt herself unable to look away. “When the ceremony is over, you can go wherever you like—as long as it’s outside the town.” “…You’re letting me go?” “When the ceremony is over, yes. Or would you prefer to become my real wife?” “Definitely not.” Shizuku’s true feelings had slipped out without her realizing it, and her expression stiffened. She only realized she might’ve messed up after the words had left her lips. Yet Daytas didn’t seem angry. He just snorted with laughter. “But if you arouse suspicion before the ceremony is over, you’ll pay for it with your life.” “Okay. But…” “But what?” Shizuku wasn’t sure whether this was a smart thing to ask, but her curiosity won out. She’d never be able to calm down unless she knew the answer. “What would you do if I went to another town and said you were a murderer? Wouldn’t that create problems for you?” Daytas had killed Amabelle, and Shizuku knew her body was buried in the garden. Her death was a major issue that couldn’t be covered up, which was why Shizuku hadn’t expected them to let her go so easily. How was Daytas going to smooth things over after the ceremony? Did he think that silencing the complaints of a suspicious young girl would be easy once he was on the council? Nay might have told her otherwise, but wouldn’t killing Shizuku be the safer option by far? His cold gaze brushed over Shizuku’s face. Every time she looked into his empty eyes, her doubts grew. “It wouldn’t really be a problem. Where you go and what you do after the ceremony is none of my concern.” Daytas stood and left the room, seemingly finished with his dinner. Shizuku just sat there, staring absentmindedly at the ceiling. For some strange reason, the patterns on it looked like they were changing shape. “‘Killed,’ huh…? She must have meant the passive voice, rather than the simple past tense. ‘She was killed.’” A man set to join the council and the daughter of a noble family from a faraway land, the pair’s marriage was the focus of lively celebrations among Laobbe’s nobility and powerful merchants. Erik was already convinced that they were forcing Shizuku to play the central role. Shizuku had written the words true bride on her secret message, implying the existence of a fake bride. As Erik looked at Shizuku’s dictionary and her note, he let out a sigh. It seemed she wasn’t as bad at learning languages as she thought she was. If she’d had the time, she probably would’ve been able to explain the situation in further detail. It was obvious that she’d kept her note as brief as possible because she was under constant supervision—Nay’s constant supervision. “After Lord Deseuah introduced Amabelle to Daytas, it was decided that they would marry. Then she was killed… Daytas must be the one responsible. And Daytas…was the ex-lover of Lord Deseuah’s daughter.” Erik had uncovered this information when he’d been doing some investigating of his own in town. Daytas and Lord Deseuah’s only daughter, Varola, had once been lovers, and everyone had expected them to marry. However, her father had ordered another bride to be arranged for Daytas. What was the story behind that? “He’s a powerful man… Unless I have proof, he won’t even give me the time of day.” Erik had escaped Daytas’s surveillance, which was better than them both being held prisoner, but he wouldn’t get Shizuku back by playing fair. Erik looked up at the ceiling, his fingers laced behind his head. Then he left the small room to carry out his plan. Shizuku’s first meeting with Varola had not been a coincidence. Far from it, in fact. Lord Deseuah’s daughter had come to visit Shizuku out of the blue the day after she went to fetch her veil, just as she was practicing for the ceremony. “Nice to meet you. I’m Varola Deseuah. I’m sure you already know who I am, but this is the first time we’ve met.” The woman, who didn’t have anybody accompanying her, gave off a haughty air as she smiled faintly. Her attitude, which could have even been described as arrogant, actually made a strong impression on Shizuku, as it was her first time seeing a member of the nobility in the flesh. “I’ve been dying to meet you, Amabelle,” she continued. “I’m going to be one of the brides on the day of the ceremony.” “Oh. It’s nice to meet you, too.” She knew she wouldn’t be able to respond with flowery, stately language, so she didn’t even try. Instead, Shizuku responded in her own words and bowed her head. When she did, Varola looked shocked. She must have expected that “Amabelle,” being the real bride, would treat her as an equal or as an inferior. This interaction had gone contrary to her expectations, leaving her taken aback. “You don’t really seem like a member of the nobility,” she remarked. “People often tell me that,” replied Shizuku. It made more sense for her to act like an unconventional noblewoman, rather than forcing herself to be something she wasn’t. Shizuku glanced at Nay, who was also in the room, but his expression hadn’t changed. Having interpreted this as implicit approval, she stood up straighter. “Did you come here especially to greet me?” “Yes. I wanted to see what you were like. You’re not at all what I expected, though.” “I’m sorry about that,” Shizuku apologized. And I’m sorry that I’m an imposter, Shizuku added internally, forcing a smile. It wasn’t as if she were faking it for fun. As Shizuku chided herself, Varola shot her a dubious look. “You’ve met Daytas, haven’t you? What do you think about him? Will you two be able to get along?” I think he’s a short-tempered murderer. We definitely won’t get along. —is what Shizuku wished she could say, but they might have gagged her if she did. Varola’s father was the one who’d introduced Amabelle to Daytas in the first place, so he might have forced her to come and check how things were going. “He’s very good to me. Thank you for your concern.” “…Right.” Varola’s response seemed lackluster, and Shizuku frowned slightly. For some reason, she felt like there was something below the surface that only she was oblivious to. With that, it seemed like Varola’s job was done. She lifted up the hem of her dress with a graceful smile, and Shizuku saw a flicker of relief and sadness in her large eyes. “He might be lucky, having someone like you by his side,” Varola said. “Do you think so?” “Yes. He needs what you have. Well, I suppose I’ll see you again at the ceremony.” With that, she left almost as suddenly as she’d appeared. Once she was gone, Shizuku turned back toward Nay. “What did she mean by ‘what I have’?” “Who knows?” Nay replied. “Probably something so obvious that you don’t even realize you have it.” Judging by the way he was speaking, this mystical quality wasn’t something that Nay possessed, either. As it turned out, Shizuku remained clueless right up until the very end. “Oh! Varola was here?” Auna had come to take over from Nay, and once she heard what had happened, she hadn’t been able to contain her surprise. “It was only a quick hello… Do you know her?” Auna glanced around awkwardly, then lowered her voice. “The truth is…Varola and Daytas were close until quite recently. I think that’s why she was curious about you, Amabelle. Did she mention anything?” “Not really. When you say they were close, do you mean that they were in a relationship?” Shizuku’s frank question left Auna flustered. She’d asked purely out of curiosity, but Auna probably thought Shizuku felt affronted. “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable or anything,” Shizuku assured her—and finally, she coaxed the full story out of the other woman. Daytas and Nay had appeared in the town five years earlier. At the time, Daytas had only just turned twenty-two. He used the little money he had to launch a wholesale business, and with a keen eye for quality and an aptitude for seizing the right opportunities at the right time, he quickly increased his clientele and made a lot of money. His exceptional skills turned him into one of the town’s most successful businessmen, eventually granting him access to the mansions of the nobility. That was how Daytas and Varola first met. She was the beautiful daughter of a lord, and he, a shrewd young man. He had been the one to make the first move, and the couple soon grew close and started dating. Varola’s father, Lord Deseuah, even gave them his approval. However, one day, the couple broke up with no prior warning, and Lord Deseuah presented Daytas with another young noblewoman to take as his bride. “If I were really Amabelle, that story definitely would have given me the pre-wedding blues…,” Shizuku murmured as she enjoyed a rare moment to herself. She’d been allowed a break, so she was using her time to make notes in Japanese on her notepad. Auna seemed like the kind of woman who loved to chat. Although she’d initially hesitated to discuss her master’s former lover, once she realized Shizuku was interested, it had been like opening up Pandora’s box. The revelations that followed were not the sort that any bride would have wanted to hear, and if Shizuku really had been Amabelle, she was sure she would’ve ended up in a huge argument with Daytas. “They would’ve hit a dead end…and the relationship would’ve been over.” Now that Shizuku saw it from this perspective, Daytas and Amabelle would have been totally incompatible—Amabelle would have needed a tremendous amount of luck on her side to avoid the tragedy of being murdered. Shizuku held her head in her hands. “Still, it doesn’t seem like Varola hates Daytas,” she said to herself. In fact, she seemed concerned about him and his impending marriage. She’d turned up just to see Amabelle, and Shizuku didn’t get the impression that she despised him or bore a grudge against the man. Did that mean Daytas was to blame for their breakup? “Hmm… I can’t wrap my head around this.” Putting the intricacies of their relationship aside, Shizuku couldn’t even imagine Daytas making a move on anyone. Could a man as short-tempered and arrogant as him really change his behavior when faced with a woman he liked? Shizuku stopped thinking about it for the time being and lay down on the bed. Just as she was about to doze off, Varola’s faint smile drifted into her hazy consciousness. Her smile had held a hint of sadness when she’d spoken about Daytas, but Shizuku wondered if she’d ever find out why. It was two days before the wedding, and Shizuku had committed almost everything she’d been taught to memory. She’d never really had a problem with memorization—once she’d convinced herself that she needed to remember something, it was simple. As part of her practice, Shizuku rehearsed the ceremony’s proceedings with Daytas. “Not bad,” he said, making her breathe a sigh of relief. Daytas looked her up and down. She was wearing a dress she’d been given to rehearse in. “I’d prefer it if you were a little more refined, but this will do.” “Well, I was raised as a commoner, so this is about as good as you’re going to get. Mio probably could have played the part a little better than me, though.” “Mio? Who’s that?” “My younger sister.” If Daytas had been from her old world, Shizuku wouldn’t have mentioned that she had a younger sister—but they were in a completely different universe right now. No matter how impatient and violent Daytas was, he’d never be able to reach her family. “So you have a younger sister?” asked Daytas. “I have an older one, too. I’m the middle sister.” This mention of Shizuku’s sisters seemed to have piqued Daytas’s interest, but she couldn’t understand why. His eyes darted around anxiously before he asked bluntly, “What are they like?” “What are they like…? Normal, I guess. My older sister is pretty and kind. Everyone likes her. And my younger sister can do anything she puts her mind to and is always full of confidence. She’s smart, and she can be annoying at times, but she’s cute.” “You’re very complimentary about your sisters. Could it be that you feel inferior to them?” “Sort of. Not so much anymore.” Shizuku’s younger sister could tackle any challenge that came her way. She could have played the part of the blushing bride with the air of nobility the role demanded. Her older sister, on the other hand, might have adapted to the situation right away. Shizuku viewed them as “special,” in contrast to her. In the past, that had caused her some distress. It frustrated her that she was the only one who seemed to lack individuality, which was why she’d chosen to leave home. Before she knew it, however, she’d stopped worrying so much about comparing herself to her sisters. Was that because she’d ended up so far away from them? Or was it because she’d changed as a person? Shizuku wasn’t entirely sure. With a derisive laugh, Daytas sat down on his couch. “It takes real resilience not to feel inferior when your siblings have something you don’t.” “…It’s not that I don’t feel inferior,” Shizuku replied. “I just get on well with them.” “You must do. That’s why your perception of them hasn’t been tarnished,” spat Daytas. It felt like there was a hidden meaning behind his words, but he continued to speak without so much as a pause. “Not all siblings get along as well as you and your sisters. I’m a prime example of that—my younger sister threw stones at me when she learned I was her brother. She made no effort to conceal her dislike for me.” “…Huh? She threw stones at you? …Like, metaphorically?” “No. Real stones. I doubt my story is that uncommon. My father had me with a different woman, and out of consideration for my father’s reputation, my mother didn’t tell anyone that I was his child. Instead, the two of us lived a frugal life on the edge of town.” With his elbows on the table, Daytas rested his chin in his hands. He wasn’t looking at Shizuku but off in the distance, as if he were staring at someone. “We were shunned by everyone around us. All of the townsfolk derided my mother for having a child with an unknown man, and as soon as my younger sister got wind of the truth, she drove me away like a monster. In the end, we were kicked out of the town…and the incident led to the death of my mother, who was already frail. My father saw it all, but he never tried to help her. I guess what I’m trying to say is that blood ties mean nothing.” Daytas didn’t look enraged. He’d simply shared what had happened to him, and for that reason, Shizuku didn’t know how to respond. His family was so different from her own that it left her speechless. His gaze brushed Shizuku’s face again, and she suddenly had the urge to cry. Perhaps the one thing this man needed was someone who could offer him real emotional support—assuming he could atone for his sins, that is. If there was someone who could water the barren land inside him, there was a chance that he might one day be saved. However, Shizuku couldn’t be that person. She didn’t feel capable of something like that. The type of person Daytas needed would have to know his past, sympathize with him, and develop a strong urge to support him. Could she change anything by suggesting this to Daytas? She had a genuine desire to help him and get him to change his ways, but how could she get this across without damaging her own integrity? It’s impossible for a person to leave the narrow cage called the self. Whether you’re telling them something or listening to what they have to say, there are always bars in the way that hamper straightforward communication. Shizuku could say a thousand words; maybe a hundred would get through to him, and he’d understand only ten. In the end, he might accept only one or two of them. Language provided you with a stifling kind of freedom. Eventually, everyone would come to realize how hopeless that was. With the celebrations having begun the previous day, every corner of the town of Laobbe was teeming with noise and excitement. The central square was full of entertainers vying for the public’s attention, with every performance eliciting huge cheers. Erik weaved through the excited adults and children as he made his way toward the church. The wedding, which was part of the festivities, was set to be held the following day, and craftspeople were rushing around trying to get things ready. He saw a real mix of equipment and people inside the church, and the corridors, lined with large statues of gods decorated with white flowers, were no exception. Since the work had been outsourced to multiple workshops, there was no one overseeing the wedding’s overall organization, which allowed Erik to freely take a look around without attracting suspicion. He checked the route into the church and where the different entrances were, then he took a look in the rooms at the back that would presumably be used by those involved in the wedding on that day. Finally, he stepped inside the church itself and cast his gaze around the room, noticing the high ceiling and the chairs that had been lined up in preparation for the big day. It was at that point that he happened to hear a clanging noise behind him, and Erik turned around. A large gold candlestick had fallen to the floor. A young apprentice craftsman reached out for it in a panic, and once he’d picked it up, he placed it back in front of one of the pillars equally spaced out around the venue. “…What’s that?” Erik asked. “Huh?” The young man’s eyes widened; he was surprised that a strange mage had suddenly spoken to him. “A candlestick…,” said the apprentice. “Why?” “It’s not that, so much as the floor. There’s a fire-generating magic circle drawn on the floor, isn’t there?” “Is there? I can’t see it. But these are magic candles. Apparently, they all light up at the same time.” Appearing busy, the apprentice quickly dashed away. Erik walked over to the candle and looked down at the floor. The magic circle drawn on the floor was undoubtedly a fire-producing one. It wasn’t especially powerful, but once activated, it would generate fire and heat on top of it. Upon closer inspection, he saw that the same magic circle had been drawn at every pillar, and all of them were connected by a single magic line. The candles that had been put in place appeared to be magic implements that would absorb that fire to light their flames, but they could have just used self-lighting candles instead. There was no need to create a separate ignition mechanism and draw magic circles. Apparently, Daytas had been the one who’d decided on the interior decorations. Did he like doing things the hard way? Erik scanned the spacious church with a cold look in his eyes, then left. When Shizuku pictured a bride on the day before their wedding, she’d always imagined her kneeling down on a tatami mat in front of her parents, bowing her head, and thanking them for everything they’d done for her—but in this world, tatami mats didn’t exist. Plus, this was a sham wedding. Shizuku didn’t feel sad about it. In fact, a different kind of anxiety was causing her to lose her appetite. “You should go to bed early tonight. You’ll want your skin to be glowing in the morning,” Auna said to her, so Shizuku did as she was told. She closed her eyes and counted sheep, but she didn’t feel sleepy at all. If anything, the harder she tried to fall asleep, the more difficult it became. Once she’d counted more than eight thousand sheep, Shizuku got up to get a drink from the water jug in her room. It was stuffy inside, so she opened the window to let some air in, and she looked at Mea, sleeping in her makeshift bed on the windowsill. “The wedding’s tomorrow… Just hang on a little longer.” The black belt coiled around Mea’s small body had mostly faded by now, allowing the color of Mea’s wings to show through. Maybe she really would be freed the following day, in which case Shizuku just needed to find Erik and leave town. Erik had managed to slip out from under Daytas’s watchful eye, and she was sure he’d worked out that she would be in the festival. With the night breeze brushing against her face, Shizuku let out a sigh. All of a sudden, she noticed a few dozen potted white flowers at the side gate. They hadn’t been there when she went to bed, and Shizuku felt herself staring intently at them. “…They’re beautiful.” These white flowers were likely being used in the ceremony the following day. The gate was opened soon after, and Nay came into view. He began loading the flowers onto the horse-drawn carriage parked outside. Shizuku watched in admiration as he deftly loaded the pots onto the vehicle—yet one of the plants in the shadow of the hedge ended up being left behind. The gate closed, and the horse-drawn carriage disappeared into the distance. “Oh, he’s forgotten one…” Shizuku could see it from the bedroom window, but Nay couldn’t have noticed it. For a moment, Shizuku didn’t know what to do, but then it occurred to her that the flowers might wither if they were left out all night. She threw on some clothes and left the room, rushing down the silent hallway and out through the front door. Once she was outside, she started heading toward the side gate. If the flowerpot had been in the corner of the courtyard where Amabelle’s body was buried, she probably couldn’t have brought herself to go—but this was in the opposite direction. After making her way through the trees, Shizuku reached the gate. The blooming white flowers were still sitting there, and she lifted the pot up into her arms. “Good. Got it.” The white porcelain flowerpot was decorated with milky-white paper and had a white ribbon tied around it. The paper shimmered in the moonlight, which made Shizuku smile, and the small white flowers looked really cute. She drew her face closer to smell them…but then, her expression turned skeptical. For some reason, they didn’t smell like flowers. They gave off a disturbing yet familiar odor, and Shizuku cocked her head in confusion—but just then, she was slammed against the ground. Her field of vision turned white. Shizuku was down on her hands and knees, and she heard the callous voice of a man coming from above her. “What are you doing here?” It was Daytas. Shizuku couldn’t answer him. He’d punched her cheek before she could spot him, and the impact made her head spin. She could taste a mixture of blood and grass in her mouth. Having fallen on her face, she tried her hardest to move her right hand, but Daytas just stamped on it in a rage. Shizuku shrieked, but no sound came out. “I asked you what you were doing. Were you trying to escape?” “…N-no.” Shizuku would probably be killed if she couldn’t justify why she’d been out here. Struggling to hold her cheek in her left hand, she began to explain. “No… I just saw…these flowers…” “Is that it?” “I thought they’d been left behind…” The man tutted as he lifted his foot. Shizuku pushed herself up with her trembling hands and covered her mouth. She could taste blood, but it was too dark to tell where she’d cut herself. She was too scared to look up at Daytas but could still make out the white flowerpot in the periphery of her vision. I’d almost forgotten this is the sort of man he is, she thought to herself. Shizuku had almost fallen victim to his wrath once before, but since he hadn’t been violent for several days and had assured her that she’d be set free after the wedding, she’d let her guard down slightly. Or maybe it was the look she occasionally saw in his eyes and the story about his past that had made her less vigilant. Either way, she hadn’t expected to end up in a situation like this again—not until he’d actually hit her. “If your life is as precious to you as you claim, then don’t leave your room for any reason.” “…F-fine.” “Get back inside.” Daytas reached out his hand. Startled, Shizuku leaned back, shaking, and Daytas gave her a self-effacing smile. Instead of pulling her up by the hand, he brushed the dirt out of her hair, then wiped her dirty face with his fingers. He wasn’t gentle about it, but it was hard to believe that this was the same hand that had hit her just moments earlier. Eventually, he took her hand and lifted her to her feet. “Can you go back on your own?” “Sure…” Shizuku walked away before Daytas changed his mind. As she turned past the hedge, she spun back toward him. He was still standing in front of the pot, looking down at the flowers. It was too dark for Shizuku to make out the expression on his face, but strangely enough, she felt like she knew what it would be. She spun around and continued making her way to her room. This time, she didn’t look back. Shizuku had secretly worried that her cheek would swell up or bruise where Daytas had hit her, but when she woke up in the morning and looked in the mirror, she was relieved to see it hadn’t. All she needed to do was get through this one day. Then she’d be free. She wanted to reduce any sources of concern, however minor. After hastily getting dressed, she placed Mea in the small box she’d been using as a bed, then put it in her bag. Nay was traveling with her, as he always did, and once they were in the horse-drawn carriage, he offered her a small leather bag. “This is your reward. Take it with you.” When Shizuku realized what this meant, she frowned at him. “I don’t want it. If I were to accept something like that, it would make me complicit in your crime.” “Don’t you want to get something out of this ordeal? Otherwise it won’t be worth your while.” “It’s not a matter of ‘getting something out of it.’ I just don’t want it.” It was just as likely that Nay would understand where Shizuku was coming from as it was that he wouldn’t. Maybe she was being childishly stubborn, but she still couldn’t allow herself to give Daytas the satisfaction. She’d witnessed death a number of times since arriving in this world, but killing someone out of sheer emotion was unforgivable. No matter what had happened between them, using death as a means to an end was wrong. Shizuku glanced out the carriage window. The town was abuzz with a celebratory atmosphere, and children smiled and placed flowers in each other’s hair. This heartwarming scene would have cheered most people up, but Shizuku just felt sad. She closed her eyes. Since nobility and councilors would be attending the ceremony, security was extremely tight, and only those involved with the wedding were allowed to enter the church. To make up for this, once the ceremony was over, the newlyweds were supposed to ride around the town in a horse-drawn carriage, allowing the public to get a glimpse of them. Shizuku, however, would not be there for the eyes of the public. Nay had told her to sneak out of the church’s back entrance before the carriage set off. Shizuku wondered how the crowd would react seeing Daytas alone, but right now, she wasn’t in any position to worry about that. As soon as Shizuku reached her dressing room in the church, the first thing her attendants did was cover her in makeup. The endless succession of instructions telling her to “Look this way,” “Look that way,” “Close your eyes,” and “Look up” made her zone out halfway through. She was sitting in a chair, so she hadn’t moved an inch, but for some reason, the process was gradually wearing her out. If she had been a real bride, she would have flaked out from exhaustion. However, when Shizuku was told that her makeup was done and she looked at her reflection in the mirror, she was left speechless. She’d felt like it had been taking far too long, but the time that her makeup artist had spent had definitely paid off. Her eyes, which had always been on the larger side, had been enhanced by beautifully applied lines and highlighted with silver, adding a touch of glamour. In combination with her black eyelashes, which looked glossier than they had before, they made Shizuku look cute yet alluring. Although her skin—which had been suffering from a few breakouts—had been carefully covered with foundation, it looked pale and clear, rather than heavy. Pearl-colored highlights and rosy shading had been gently applied to different parts of her face, adding definition to the bridge of her nose and giving her the pink cheeks of a truly happy bride. With this makeup, she might have really passed for the daughter of a noble family—even if their facial features were different. She looked like herself and yet like a completely different person at the same time. She sighed in admiration, gazing at the girl in the mirror. “Whoa, makeup is amazing. This might actually fool people.” Her makeup artist had been wearing a satisfied smile on her face, but hearing Shizuku’s over-the-top comment, her shoulders drooped. Shizuku knew she couldn’t sit around and stare captivatedly into the mirror all day, though. The ceremony’s schedule had been worked out to the minute. “Next, Miss Amabelle, you need to get dressed.” “Oh, okay.” Shizuku moved to the corner of the room, not wanting to get in the way while her attendants were preparing her dress. From the window beside her, she caught a glimpse of the area surrounding the church’s rear entrance. She found herself staring at the open doorway for no particular reason. Plant pots were being taken out of boxes and carried in through the door, one after another—the same pots that Nay had been moving the previous night. It looked like they were decorations for the ceremony, as she’d assumed. But just as Shizuku felt satisfied by that explanation, she realized something. Last night, the smell of the white flowers had strongly resembled that of gunpowder. Erik had figured out which route the couple would take in their post-ceremony parade, but it would still be hard for him to act in that space of time. Stopping a moving carriage wasn’t easy. Instead, he had his sights set on an even earlier opportunity. Only authorized individuals were permitted to enter the church, however, so in order to weasel his way in, he would first need to approach someone else. Varola arrived at the church on time, accompanied by two ladies-in-waiting. No amount of makeup could conceal how sickly she looked, however. As she entered the church, covering her mouth with her hands, a young man who’d just disembarked from his own carriage called out to her. Dressed as a mage, the man asked her whether she was, in fact, Lord Deseuah’s daughter, then walked over to her. “I was originally going to speak to your father, but he wasn’t home,” the man told her, keeping his voice low. “I have something to tell you about the bride who’s getting married today.” “Do you mean Amabelle? What’s the problem?” Varola asked. “She’s an imposter. She’s just an ordinary girl who’s been coerced into playing the role of Amabelle.” “What?” “The real one is… Look.” The man held out a small portrait. The girl in the picture, who had black hair and black eyes, had a decidedly arrogant smile on her face. Her features were totally different from Shizuku’s—yet there in the corner of the picture was the name Amabelle Lyshkariza, alongside the signature of a famous artist. “Is this…?” “I used my connections to get hold of it. There are a number of copies in circulation in the towns in the south. I also have this.” Erik unfolded the cloth parcel on his palm. Inside were a number of expensive accessories, and one of them, a golden ring, had the name Lyshkariza etched into the back of it. Varola stared at it with a look of disbelief. “Where did you…?” “At Daytas’s residence. I was waiting until he and his guard both left, and today, I finally had the chance to search the property. It was clear what happened as soon as I saw where the soil had been dug up in the courtyard.” Varola’s eyes widened. Staring straight into her eyes, Erik continued. “The real Amabelle Lyshkariza was murdered. The girl who’s about to become the bride is my companion. I need you to help me.” The cold edge to Erik’s voice suggested that he wasn’t prepared to take no for an answer. Once she’d finished getting dressed, Shizuku looked at Nay, who watched her from the corner of the room. For several days, they’d spent the majority of their time together, and yet Daytas’s right-hand man was still an enigma to her. Beginning to find the silence uncomfortable, Shizuku opened her mouth to speak. “Isn’t it horrible how everyone ignores the god in the myth this ceremony is based on? I mean, his wife is the only one who speaks to him.” “An unwillingness to understand is the issue here,” said Nay. Shizuku thought he was implying that she didn’t fully comprehend the story, but upon seeing her reaction, Nay clarified his point. “The other girls and the villagers had no intention of understanding what the god was saying to them. Only the god’s future wife, Ludia, was genuine and sincere enough to do so.” Shizuku was taken aback by his surprisingly serious response. Now that she looked at it from that angle, though, it made more sense. A god’s words were often hard to comprehend, leaving plenty of room for interpretation. The other people who Aetea spoke to hadn’t even tried to understand him. Only the woman who’d treated him with sincerity had been able to become his wife. Shizuku thought that perhaps the role of the god’s wife was like that of ancient Japanese miko—female shamans who could convey messages from the gods. With her newfound understanding, Shizuku let out a sigh. “Whew, it really is an interesting story.” At that moment, there was a knock on the door to her dressing room, and Nay stood up to answer it. Standing in the doorway was a young girl who appeared to be a servant. She whispered something to Nay, who nodded, then turned back to Shizuku. “Lord Deseuah wishes to see me. I’ll be back shortly, so just stay where you are.” “Okay,” Shizuku replied. He quickly left the room, following the young girl. Shizuku relaxed, alone at last. This moment of relief was soon brought to an end, however, as moments later, she heard another knock at the door. Shizuku rose to her feet in a panic, but with her dress dragging along the floor, she didn’t feel confident walking. She opened her mouth, intending on answering by shouting loudly enough for the person outside to hear, but before she could, the door opened by itself and a young man stepped inside. “Hey. Long time no see,” he said. “Y-yes. It has been a while.” “Sure has. I’m glad to see you’re not hurt. Now then, get undressed.” “You might want to watch your phrasing…” Erik looked skeptical. It was an expression that reminded Shizuku of her everyday life in this world up until now, and she was so relieved, she began to laugh. Erik wasn’t the only one who’d entered the room. Once Varola came in with one of her ladies-in-waiting, she made her way over to Shizuku and gave her a deep bow. “Forgive me. I didn’t know that you weren’t Amabelle…” “I-I’m the one who should be apologizing. I’m the one who lied.” When Shizuku bowed back to her, Varola’s beautiful face formed a smile. To Shizuku, there was pain in the expression, though she wasn’t sure why. Her face pale, Varola issued her nearby court lady an order with a glance. The other woman went and stood behind Shizuku, placed her hands on her veil. “I’m sorry you got mixed up in all this. I’ll play the role of the bride for you. You should escape as soon as you can.” “Huh? But I thought you were already playing one of the brides.” “My court lady will wear my outfit. It’ll be fine. With the veil and the makeup, nobody will be able to tell the difference.” Shizuku was going to be freed after the ceremony either way, but wouldn’t this carelessly anger Daytas? She glanced at Erik with apprehension, but Erik just urged her to hurry and left the room. As the court lady removed the pins that kept her veil in place, Shizuku expressed her doubts to Varola, who’d begun getting undressed. “Daytas…is a scary man. And he’s assured me that he’ll set me free once this is over. I don’t want to cause problems for you, Varola…” “You’re not going to. We’re the ones who caused problems for you—that’s all there is to it. It’s best if you don’t get involved any further. I’ll put a stop to this.” In that moment, Varola looked unwell. Still, Shizuku could sense her conviction. Shizuku’s breath caught a little, but she couldn’t waste any more time arguing with someone as determined as Varola apparently was. Shizuku took off her dress and changed back into her plain clothes. She took Mea out of her little box and held her small body against her chest. Erik had already fetched all of her bags from Daytas’s residence, so Mea was the only thing she had to worry about right now. Meanwhile, Varola had swiftly changed into the bridal gown, assisted by her court lady. Once she’d put the veil on to conceal her face, Shizuku gazed at her in a daze. “Um, is this really okay?” she asked. “Your dad will help us if we need him to, right?” “Yeah. Don’t worry, nothing’s going to happen to me. I’ll buy you some time so you can get away.” The veil made it hard to see Varola’s expression, but Shizuku did as she’d been encouraged to do and reached a hand out for the door. As she did, though, she couldn’t help but feel worried, and she looked back over her shoulder. “…You were Daytas’s girlfriend, weren’t you?” For a brief moment, an expanse of emptiness stretched out before them like a dry, barren land. That fractured, irretrievable moment in time lay there between them…and Varola laughed. “The truth is,” she said, “I felt as if someone like you might be able to change him bit by bit. I thought you might try and understand him. But that was naive of me. I’m the only one who can listen to what he has to say; it’s always been that way. Though I don’t know if I have the right to do that anymore…” Varola was talking about the past—about things that were unattainable. Having unwittingly touched the depths of Varola’s psyche, Shizuku fell silent, unsure what to say. Something must have happened between them, but Shizuku felt she’d be overstepping her bounds if she tried to find out what it was. So all she could do was suppress those indefinable emotions and bow her head. “Thank you very much,” she told Varola. “…And take care.” Covering her chest where Mea was hidden with her hand, Shizuku left the room. Erik was waiting for her outside, leaning against the wall. “Okay. Let’s go.” “Yep.” With that, the pair began walking down the hallway. It was full of people, hurriedly rushing back and forth. There were barely fifteen minutes before the ceremony was supposed to begin, and time was ticking. “Lord Deseuah hasn’t arrived yet.” Daytas scowled when he heard the news—an expression that he never would have made in front of his other employees—but Nay maintained eye contact, unfazed. When Daytas asked him what he meant by this, he retold the sequence of events in order. “Lord Deseuah’s messenger just called for me, but when I arrived at the specified location, Lord Deseuah wasn’t there. Not only that, but there was no trace of him anywhere in the church. Though Varola seems to have arrived…” “Did he flee?” “I’m not sure. I don’t see how the truth could have gotten out.” Despite his role as Daytas’s attendant, Nay was conveying his message to his master in a rather impolite manner, and Daytas glared at him. Despite this, however, he looked more thoughtful than annoyed. “Keep searching the venue, right until the last minute,” Daytas commanded. “There’s no point to any of this if he’s not here.” “Got it. Do you want to postpone the wedding if we can’t find him?” “…No, we can’t do that. It doesn’t matter whether we keep that girl under confinement—if she’s unveiled to the public, people will realize she’s not Amabelle. And besides, my contract with you ends today.” “Ah, that’s right.” Nay knew this better than anyone, but he nodded as if he’d only just remembered, and Daytas’s face contorted into a sardonic smile. Just as his attendant was about to leave the room, Daytas called out to him. “What will you do after tomorrow? Will you return to your country?” The olive-skinned man stopped in his tracks. He answered the question without turning around. “Of course not. I might not be as hung up on the past as you are, but I still have no interest in going back. There’s no place for me there.” With that, Nay left in silence; even his footsteps were inaudible. The only sound that could be heard in the room was that of the door closing behind him, leaving an expressionless Daytas alone. Shizuku covered her face as she followed behind Erik. Hurrying along, she worried about Mea, who was still lying against her chest. The church’s passageways were bizarrely complicated, with some paths leading up and some going down. Yet despite this, Erik seemed to know the way, and he picked a quieter route toward the exit. As Shizuku approached the atrium overlooking where the ceremony would take place, an area off-limits to regular guests, the scene unfolding below caught her attention. “Th-there are so many people here… I’m glad I’m not part of it anymore…” “Pretty much all the influential people from the town are in attendance. It is a festival, after all.” “I’d hate to have a wedding like this—even if all the expenses were paid for…” Shizuku glanced down at the church, which was adorned with white flowers and fabric, and her gaze fixed upon something in her line of sight. “Wait, that flower…” “Huh? Which one?” asked Erik. “The one beneath the candlestick. That’s…” Just as Shizuku was about to tell him that she recognized it, she collided with a man who had emerged from an unseen corridor, making her stagger. “S-sorry,” she said, apologizing out of sheer habit—but when she looked up, she froze. Nay looked down at her, understandably dumbfounded. “You… What are you doing here…?” Erik was the first to act. He hurled something at Nay, who dodged it but was caught off balance, and Erik used that opportunity to pull Shizuku by the hand and start running. They swiftly turned a corner. “We’re in trouble now. I’m not really sure what he’s capable of.” Shizuku couldn’t bring herself to look over her shoulder. She couldn’t hear any footsteps, but she could tell that Nay was still chasing them because she could sense an unpleasant pressure following them from behind. The pair sprinted down the narrow hallway. At the end of the passage were piles of leftover wedding decorations and tools about as wide as a person. Shizuku held Mea against her chest so she wouldn’t drop her as she ran, but their escape didn’t end up lasting long. She could sense Nay closing in on them from behind, and Erik, who’d been pulling her by the hand, shoved her to the side. “Run,” he said, then immediately turned around to confront Nay. “Erik!” Shizuku wanted to stop him, but she’d built up too much of a momentum. Once she was a few steps ahead, she looked over her shoulder, and what she saw left her speechless. A magic circle had appeared on the floor. Nay had stepped inside it, and innumerable white threads were coiling around him. They had enveloped both his sword and its sheath, preventing him from pulling it any farther out. Nay glanced at the white threads wrapped around his right arm, then glowered at Erik, who was reciting an incantation. “A trap, huh? Damn mages.”