Chapter 30

I still dream about it sometimes. The sweltering heat. The jeers of the crowd. The feeling of death approaching. But the glint in her amethyst eyes was the same as it always was. Every time I remember it, I can’t help but wonder. Why was she able to smile like that at such a time? I always hated to lose. Fortunately, I was blessed with better-than-average looks and talent from a young age. I was called a child prodigy more than once. Of course, I realize now that some of the praise was mere brownnosing to the daughter of Marquess Orlamunde. But at the time, I was ignorant of the ways of the world. I believed without a shadow of a doubt that I was someone special, chosen by the goddesses. But all of that was demolished the winter I turned five years old. “Look, Lily! There’s the young lady from the House of Castiel!” That morning, the maids had spent hours dressing me so that my father could bring me with him to a lavish mansion. I remember being overwhelmed by the gorgeous decorations inside, so sumptuous even the Orlamunde residence paled in comparison. That day, a birthday celebration was being held for Duke Castiel’s only daughter. Amid applause and cheers, the duke led the young girl leisurely down the spiral staircase. With only one look, I was charmed. What a beautiful child she was. Her wavy hair was like the night sky against her translucent white skin. Her amethyst eyes sparkled like stars. And her smile—such a grown-up smile. All of it was breathtakingly beautiful. She’d beaten me. In that moment, I tasted defeat for the first time in my life. No matter how expensive the jewels I wore or how stunning the clothes, I would never be more beautiful than her. I remember how frustrating that realization was. “Pleased to meet you. My name is Lily Orlamunde.” When I think back on it now, I believe I did hold at least some antipathy in my heart as I greeted her. So as not to be taken lightly, I tried to be more polite than usual. I thought that the more perfect my manners, the worse the other girl would look in comparison to me. The girl’s response, however, was extremely cold. “What a horrid face you have,” she said, glancing in my direction. “…That’s a rude thing to say,” I said, trying not to show how upset I was. But the other girl only shrugged like she didn’t care. “It’s true,” she said, spinning on her heels. The blood rushed to my face. “Please wait!” I shouted at her. “Just now, I told you my name. It’s proper that you tell me your name, too!” The girl stopped walking and looked over her shoulder at me. Smiling, she curtsied elegantly. I felt like she’d just thrown cold water over my head. It was an impeccable lady’s curtsy. “It’s Scarlett. Scarlett Castiel. But I must say that you were the first one to be rude.” I glared at her, my brows drawn together. What could she be talking about? “Those eyes of yours. Haven’t you ever looked in a mirror? Your eyes are so cold and awful. Just like Aunt Meaghan’s. Everyone hates her, you know, because she’s so mean.” “What…?” “You were thinking mean things about me, too, weren’t you? I think that’s rude.” I was speechless. She was right. I had been jealous of her beauty and wanted to shame her. “That sort of behavior in a lady is fourth-rate.” “Fourth-rate?” “My mother always says that,” answered Scarlett, proudly puffing out her chest. That was my first encounter with Scarlett Castiel. One day several years later, I heard that Scarlett’s mother, Aliénore, had died. It seemed she had always been weak and had spent most of the time since her daughter was born confined to her bed. Aliénore was from the Republic of Soldita, across the ocean. They said she was a beauty, with black hair and amethyst eyes. “Your face is as horrid as ever, Lily Orlamunde. Did you want something?” But even though she had just lost her mother, Scarlett acted exactly the same as always. “Of course not. You just happened to be in front of me. Don’t you think you’re a bit overly self-conscious?” I couldn’t help responding spitefully. She snorted, as she always did. Though I didn’t realize it at the time, when I think back on it now, Aliénore was something of a curiosity. Soon after the duke’s former wife, Veronica, gave birth to their eldest child, Maximilian, she eloped with her lover. Several years later, she and the duke were officially divorced by the church, meaning he was free to marry again. The problem was, Aliénore wasn’t a noble. It would be one thing to keep her in his mansion as a lover, but for a duke to make such a woman his proper wife was unthinkable. For that reason, people assumed there must be some kind of secret about her—that she was a noble’s illegitimate child, or of an esteemed lineage from some fallen country, or something similar. At the time, I knew nothing of those circumstances, and I had never experienced the death of a person close to me. When I heard that Scarlett’s mother had died, it felt unreal, as if it had happened in some far-off kingdom. Scarlett must have sensed my bewilderment, because she sighed affectedly. “How depressing to think I’m going to be seeing you every day from now on,” she said. It was early summer. We had left our respective domains and come to verdant Greenfields, one of the domains under the direct control of the royal family. That summer, the king had invited the Orlamunde and Castiel families to the royal summer retreat as a reward for our devotion. It was no mere coincidence that both families had brought their daughters with them—we had been chosen as playmates for the first prince, who was recovering from an illness. Acknowledging our service was only a pretense. His Highness Enrique hid behind his nurse when he met us. Though he was a year older than us, he looked much younger. I was taller than most children my age to start with, but he was even shorter than Scarlett. His skin was a sickly white, and he was very thin. He looked as if he would snap in two if you pushed him. Before we arrived at Greenfields, my father had reminded me many times that I mustn’t play roughly around the prince because he was weak. That was probably one reason we were chosen for his playmates, rather than boys his own age. But what were we to do if he showed no interest in playing with us? When his nurse tried to coax him out, Enrique only shook his head and retreated farther behind her. Then he stared down at the floor. I was unsure what to do and unable to speak to him, when a flash of shiny black hair shot out before me. “Hello. I’m Scarlett. Scarlett Castiel.” It was strange—although Scarlett’s voice was by no means loud, it always carried so well. “By the way, can’t you talk?” Enrique’s eyes widened at her high-handed tone. He took another step backward, as if he was afraid. Then, for the first time, he spoke. His voice was so soft, it was almost inaudible. “…Y-you’re very rude. D-don’t you know who I am?” Scarlett’s eyebrows shot up, and she smiled boldly. “What a foolish boy you are,” she said. “If you don’t introduce yourself, how do you expect people to know who you are?” I was very anxious. This was a member of the royal family—the first prince at that. “S-Scarlett!” I scolded softly. But Scarlett’s answer was bold. “What? I introduced myself properly. I’m not the one being rude.” Everyone could hear her. The look on Enrique’s face changed to one of astonishment. “…I’m Enrique.” Scarlett smiled with satisfaction. “So you can talk! I’ve heard you’re a recluse. I’ve only just gotten here, but I already know this place better than you do. Follow me. I’ll show you something good.” She took the prince’s hand and headed off. I froze in fear, but neither his nurse nor the guards standing several paces back said a word. I understand now that Scarlett had her own unique role to play. At the time, I think, His Highness was rejecting the outside world. Greenfields Castle sat atop a hill overlooking the whole domain. Scarlett strode out of the building with guards trailing behind, looked all around, and headed toward a castle wall with a lookout tower. She did not run. She walked quickly, but with each step, she planted her feet firmly on the ground. At first, Enrique was confused, but soon his eyes lit up and his cheeks flushed. Before long, we reached the stone tower. At the top of the steep staircase inside, we emerged to an expansive view. “Look.” Scarlett pointed to a hillside sloping gently down toward the village. It was covered completely in olive trees, whose white flowers fluttered in the breeze. Far away, the boundary between sky and land blurred into an indigo haze. Clouds trailed across the sunny blue sky. A refreshing breeze was ruffling our hair and clothes. “…How beautiful,” Enrique mumbled. “Isn’t it?” Scarlett answered with a carefree smile. “It’s such a waste to stay inside the castle all the time. Just look how wide the world is.” Enrique squinted in the sun and gazed out over the endless landscape. I watched the two of them from a slight distance. After a moment, Scarlett noticed and met my gaze. She rolled her amethyst eyes as she placed her pointer finger over her mouth and smiled casually. “My mother always used to say that.” After that day, Enrique slowly began to change. He turned his gaze toward the outside world. To be honest, Scarlett usually had to drag him out and lead him around by the nose. Nevertheless, lean muscles developed on his stick-thin body, and the color started returning to his bluish-white skin. “Oh no,” Enrique mumbled in a daze as his tart tumbled to the ground. On days when the weather was good, teatime was held in the courtyard. A parasol was set up over the table, and bite-size tarts and cookies were arranged on each plate. There were cookies like snowballs that crumbled in your mouth and golden-brown madeleines shaped like seashells. Spicy orange carrot cake and tarts overflowing with bilberries from the nearby forest, which Enrique liked best of all. He always saved them for last to savor slowly. This time, he had dropped his on the ground. “…My tart…” “How clumsy of you,” Scarlett said callously. Tears filled Enrique’s magenta eyes. I would have given him my tart, but I’d already eaten it. “I suppose I have no choice.” A jewel-like piece of red tart appeared on Enrique’s plate. “I gave you half.” “B-but it’d be rude of me…” “Be quiet. I will allow it.” However many times I think back on those words, I feel like pulling my own hair and asking her just who she thought she was. But at moments like that, Scarlett carried herself with absolute confidence, and if you were with her, you somehow thought she was right. It was very annoying. “And just how long do you intend to embarrass me? If a lady says she’s allowing it, then you ought to stop worrying about it and do it in a hurry!” A solemn bell chimed from inside the castle grounds. It was the bell on the watchtower at the top of the hill. “…We’re too late,” the boy said sorrowfully when the bell had stopped ringing. Until a moment earlier, he had been rushing ahead with unusual restlessness, but now he was plodding along as if he had lost heart. I looked at him, wondering what was wrong, and saw his beautiful magenta eyes slowly fill with tears. He had been a crybaby ever since I met him. Scarlett was the cause of ninety percent of his tears, but today was different. He held in his hand an assignment the tutor had given him the day before. He was to turn it in before the afternoon prayer bell rang. The reading room where he was supposed to bring it was just in front of us. “It’s fine,” I said, smiling at the dejected boy. Just then, the hook-nosed tutor appeared from around a corner in the hallway, and Enrique looked down, forlorn. “It’s not fine…” “True, if we did nothing. But I’ll buy you some time,” I said. Fortunately, the tutor hadn’t yet entered the room. We had plenty of options. The important thing was that he didn’t notice. I glanced at Scarlett, still smiling. She raised her eyebrows crossly, as if she’d just realized what I was thinking. “I’ll tell you now, I’m not helping you. It’s too much trouble.” “What, you don’t have the guts to do it?” “…What did you say?” Scarlett had a short fuse, and I could see her growing more outraged by the second. Of course, I didn’t care. I knew her too well for that. I placed my hand dramatically on my forehead and swooned. “L-Lily?!” Enrique cried. At the same moment, I heard someone clicking their tongue in disgust—Scarlett. She sighed with profound distaste, then in a loud voice said, “Someone, please help us! Lily has fainted!” The servants who were nearby gathered round in a flurry. “Miss Lily?!” “Quick, fetch a doctor!” In a flash, I was surrounded by grown-ups. Surveying the scene through barely open eyes, I spotted the tutor. His attention was focused on me. I turned my head slightly. I saw Scarlett grab Enrique’s hand, taking advantage of the chaos. “Scarlett! What are you doing?” “Stop daydreaming and come with me! You need to turn in your assignment, don’t you? He’s distracted right now, so you can still make it.” “B-but, Lily…” “Lily’s the one who wants you to do it! Urgh! Why do I always get pulled into these annoying schemes…?!” Enrique turned in surprise to look at me. My eyes met his magenta ones. When I saw they were no longer teary, I winked at him playfully. Several weeks after our arrival in Greenfields, the reclusive prince had turned into a curious, happy boy. He was getting stronger, and while he used to often skip his lessons with the tutors, he now had them every day. Scarlett and I were allowed to attend, too, while we waited for them to finish. On this day, his teacher was the middle-aged man with the hooked nose from before. At the end of class, there was to be an oral quiz, and if we passed, we would be allowed to play outside. However, Enrique seemed to be having trouble answering. “At this rate, you’ll never catch up with your clever younger brother. You already have to make up for the time you missed.” The tutor sighed. Enrique’s face clouded over, and I became angry. The tutor didn’t need to speak to him like that. True, the Second Prince, Johann, was said to be intelligent, but the sickly Enrique had spent half a year in bed. Although he’d revived a bit lately, comparing the brothers wasn’t fair. “If you’re talking about the traders’ city that thrived in the reign of King Endielle, then the answer is the Markland, to the west of the City of Alslain. Although I hear it no longer exists,” a nonchalant voice announced. “What?” We all turned in the direction of the speaker, caught off guard. “I believe that’s the end of today’s lesson. Let’s go, Enrique.” But the speaker, already used to being the center of attention, ignored our stares and stood up as if her business here was done. “Wh-where in the world did you learn that?” the tutor asked her. Scarlett gazed coolly at him. “You told us yourself just yesterday.” “…Th-then tell me this. What is the name of the bell tower that was constructed in the capital during the reign of King Endielle to allow for surveillance of Markland?” “Saint Mark’s Bell Tower in Saint Mark’s Square. You said that yesterday, too.” The hook-nosed tutor widened his eyes and stepped closer to Scarlett, his fists trembling. “Outstanding! You have an outstanding mind! You ought to have a tutor yourself! I would be happy to—” “Oh, stop blathering. It’s rude. Step aside.” Scarlett pressed her hands over her ears and scowled theatrically. Then she looked down at the prince, who was still sitting, and tilted her head. “What’s wrong?” He looked down, a dark expression on his face. “…going.” “What?” Scarlett drew her brows together. Enrique jerked his head up. His eyes were moist. “I’m not going! I hate you, Scarlett!” he shouted, then flew from the room. The guards hurried after him. I’m sure it was simply a temper tantrum. But he hadn’t run in so long that it brought on a fit, and he was once again confined to bed rest. We returned to the capital without exchanging another word with him. Several years passed. Before I knew it, Scarlett had been executed, and Enrique had married a viscount’s daughter below his rank. Life is always unpredictable. And no matter how piously one lives one’s life, in the end, we are no match for fate. In which case, why not live as we please? I couldn’t help feeling that way. And so, for the time being, I stopped caring what the rest of noble society thought of me. I didn’t need their approval. I had no regrets. I would never get what I wanted by staying in that world. Fortunately, by pretending to be wounded by the execution of my friend at such an impressionable age, I managed to avoid the prison of marriage and instead satisfied myself with charitable work. Until. “…An arranged marriage. I see.” After some years of this, my parents finally ran out of patience and began loading me down with a mountain of résumés from potential suitors. One day, after I had grown bored of feeding the fire with such garbage, I came across a familiar name. The moment I saw it, I realized it was my chance. The name was Randolph Ulster, the Grim Reaper. “I’m sorry, but I have no intention of marrying anyone at the moment.” A meeting was arranged right away. But no sooner had my mother announced that she would “leave the rest to you young folks” than he rejected me. According to him, his father had proposed the marriage without his consent. I’m sure he wanted me to decline the proposal. I thought I knew what kind of person Randolph was, but he had even less delicacy than I had expected. Most girls would probably have burst into tears or flown into a rage. But I simply smiled. “I know that,” I said. “That’s why I invited you here. I have something of a proposal for you.” Randolph knit his brows suspiciously. “To tell you the truth, I have no interest in marrying, either. But if I go on like this, people will be lecturing me for the rest of my life. For my own sanity, I’d like to avoid that. So I had an idea. What about a marriage of convenience?” “A marriage…of convenience?” “Yes. Our lives would remain exactly the same as before we married. Of course, you and I would have to live together. The condition would be that neither of us interfered in the other party’s life. You would be able to devote yourself to work as much as you like, and I would be allowed to do as I please as well. In other words, we would be strangers who pledged our commitment to each other in a church. That would allow us to avoid all sorts of annoyances. Quite appealing, isn’t it?” His cerulean eyes narrowed as if he were considering the proposition. Theoretically, it ought to suit him as well as it did me. “…You would be all right with that?” he asked. “I’m the one who should ask you that. I’ll tell you this from the outset: I don’t want children. I want to give my life over to the activities I’m involved in now. If you want an heir, I’ll ask you to produce one elsewhere. Do you still accept the idea?” The young man nodded. “What a coincidence. I feel the same way.” This was even better than I’d imagined. I thrust out my hand in high spirits. “I look forward to our collaboration—my dear accomplice.” In the end, there could have been no one as suitable as Randolph Ulster. For one thing, he hardly ever came home. This was important because I wanted to prioritize time for myself. Plus, he wasn’t the sort to complain about a woman being active in the public sphere. To the contrary, he respected my position as his partner. Our relationship began on paper, but the outcome wasn’t bad. He was like a roommate I only saw from time to time. “It’s been quite a while, Lily! I’ve been longing to see you!” Cecilia, who had leapt from viscount’s daughter to crown princess, greeted me with apparent joy sparkling in her rose-colored eyes. A consummate actress, as always. “And I am glad to see you in good health, Your Highness,” I said. We both giggled. Cecilia was a smart woman. She never let you guess what she was really thinking. And she hadn’t for the past eight years. I handed her the petition I’d received from a nun who was my acquaintance. It had to do with the education of children at the orphanage. I explained the circumstances, then took my leave. On my way down the long passage, I passed a dark-skinned trader. When I looked at him, he gave me a sunny smile typical of someone from the south, then continued to Cecilia’s rooms. I assumed he was one of her favored traders. I had left the palace and was walking through the courtyard when someone called my name. I turned around. It was a frail, handsome young man—Enrique, the first prince. “…It’s been a while,” he said. “Eight years, Your Highness,” I said wryly. His placid face tensed. It was clear whom he was thinking of. Something prickly settled into my own heart. How unpleasant and bothersome and gloomy. Even after eight years, her memory hadn’t had the courtesy to fade. I sighed, irritated by memories flooding back as vividly as if they’d happened the day before. Enrique’s shoulders twitched, but he lowered his head and pretended not to notice. “Well, I must be going. I have some pressing business to see to,” I said. “Lily…are you…angry?” Angry about what? I thought but didn’t say it. “Why, of course not,” I said instead, smiling. “I should apologize. I couldn’t help lashing out at you, but I shouldn’t have behaved in such a fourth-rate way.” “Fourth-rate…?” I smiled bitterly at the familiar phrase. “Just something a wicked girl I once knew liked to say.” Several days passed. I had stopped by the Maurice Orphanage to borrow a nun’s habit. I needed it for a visit I planned to make to a slum in preparation for a new charitable project. If I went out in my noblewoman’s clothing, I could expect to be stripped of all I had, but if I dressed as a nun, people generally left me alone. Of course, I always carried a gun to protect myself. Vagrants and beggars lay like corpses on the foul-smelling streets, and young children sold flowers on the busier byways. I seared those images into my mind. I wanted to give the children in this district the education they deserved. In which case, my home base would have to be the church. I found the local house of worship, which looked like no more than a dilapidated shed. There were holes in the walls, and parts of the ceiling were caving in. I sighed and made up my mind to begin by collecting donations for its repair. At that moment, I glimpsed the profile of a woman wearing a deep hood. “…Cecilia?” I mumbled before I could stop myself. She looked exactly like the crown princess I had seen only days before. Almost without thinking, I followed her. Fortunately, she didn’t notice me as she walked into the church. She walked without a moment’s hesitation toward the altar and addressed a man sitting on a bench there. “Kiriki kirikuku.” What strange words she spoke. The man raised his head and quietly said something in return. The woman nodded and pushed back her hood. She had pale golden hair and rose-colored eyes. It was Princess Cecilia after all. “Good news,” I heard the man say. “Very soon, the Holy Grail of Eris will be revived.” “It’s too late. Do you know how many years I’ve been waiting?” “It can’t be helped. We can’t make the same mistake twice. Not us—and not Faris. You understand that, I’m sure.” Cecilia clicked her tongue in annoyance. “And how are things in the Luze domain?” the man asked. “The viscount is already severely addicted. As long as he gets his Jackal’s Paradise, he’ll do anything he’s told. One of our people holds the real power there. We’ve been having them stockpile regular shipments of explosives smuggled from Melvina in the guest house. We can launch the rebellion whenever we want.” “I’m delighted to hear it,” the man said with a low laugh. Cecilia pulled her hood back up over her head. The meeting seemed about to end, so I hurriedly left the church. What just happened? Explosives? Rebellion? I placed my hand over my pounding heart and whispered in a shaking voice, “The Holy Grail of Eris…?” Eris was the Goddess of Discord. The Holy Grail brought blessings to the kingdom. Both terms had originated in the old Faris Empire. Cecilia had used the word “rebellion.” Discord that brought blessings to the kingdom. In other words—were they talking about a planned invasion by Faris? A light rain was falling. In a corner of a dingy alley, a man was sprawled on the open ground, unbothered. I stood wordlessly in front of him and dropped a few coins into his palm. “You know the earl who went bankrupt the other day? It was the same drug again,” he said. “You mean Earl Burnes?” “Aye. Couldn’t pay his gambling debts, I hear, but it seems he was hooked on more than betting. No doubt he became a slave to it and ruined himself.” “…Where was he getting the Paradise?” From that day forward, I began to secretly gather information. Appearances to the contrary, the man before me was a skilled informer. As I investigated Faris, I realized a strange drug had become all the rage among nobles lately. Jackal’s Paradise. It was illegal now, but in the past, it was an indispensable amusement for those who enjoyed the nightlife, just like alcohol and tobacco. But now it was different. “A gambling house. Place called The Goat’s Ankle. To think it’d get this bad. That drug is a poison that ruins people.” A poison that ruins people—the words brought flooding back a dark memory I had long suppressed. It happened a few years after the summer we spent at Greenfields. Enrique had grown from a sickly boy into a fine young man. But his relationship with Scarlett remained uneasy. Of course, the two had various opportunities to meet over the years. Each time, Enrique seemed to want to say something to Scarlett, but she must have been unable to forgive him for saying he hated her, because she always made a point of ignoring him. I was fed up with how childish they were both acting. Their relationship changed only after the engagement was announced. Forced to meet whether they liked it or not, the ice gradually began to melt. To be honest, I didn’t foresee that Cecilia Luze would be a problem. Of course, I poked at her playfully to keep her in check, but it didn’t occur to me to actively try to crush her. Who is it that said love is like a fever? True, Cecilia may have been Enrique’s first love, but I’m sure that love would have cooled with time. As the successor to the throne, he needed influence. In that sense, Scarlett had the perfect lineage. I saw no need to get worked up over a mere viscount’s daughter. But within no time at all, I found out Scarlett had been imprisoned. “…Poison, you say?” When I first heard the story, it struck me as so ridiculous, I couldn’t even laugh. Scarlett Castiel tried to poison Cecilia? The same Scarlett who acted the second a thought occurred to her? Impossible! But evidence and testimonies kept cropping up, and eventually they said she had dropped her earring at the Luze residence. To top it all off, her own fiancé denounced her at the Grand Merillian. “Your Highness!” I marched into the Moldavite Palace knowing full well I might be ignored. I lifted the hem of my skirt in a perfunctory curtsy and continued, without waiting for the crown prince to respond. “What in the world is going on? Do you honestly think Scarlett would stoop so low?” I demanded. Enrique’s face tensed. “…No, I don’t.” “Then why?” “I heard that a moonstone earring was found at the Luze residence.” I held my breath. “I went to see it so I could clear her name,” he went on. “I, of all people, would surely be able to tell the difference. After all, I gave those earrings to her myself shortly after our engagement.” Enrique’s lips trembled slightly. “It was the real thing. I felt betrayed, like she was no longer the Scarlett I knew. I called her to the Grand Merillian and broke our engagement on the spot. I brought Cecilia, the victim of the crime, along with me, but I never said she and I were getting engaged. That’s only a rumor. Afterwards, they searched the Castiel residence and discovered the poison bottle in Scarlett’s room.” He paused. “…But I never thought she would be executed. I didn’t want that.” I could never want that, his eyes all but told me. He looked on the verge of crying. I sighed softly. But there was no undoing what had been done. “Can’t you do anything about it?” I asked. “It’s impossible. My father—His Highness—has made a decision.” “But why…?” It simply did not make sense. True, there was material evidence. But no one who knew Scarlett Castiel would believe she had planned an assassination. It was much easier to imagine she had been framed. Plus, it was odd that the king would involve himself in a failed assassination attempt on a mere viscount’s daughter. And what was Duke Castiel doing in the face of his own daughter’s execution? Was he unable to act—or simply unwilling? “I’m a fool,” Enrique said in a strained voice. “I’m the one who let this happen…Lily.” Hearing my name, I looked up and met the prince’s bright magenta eyes. Purple was the royal color. The eyes of the Castiel family were purple, too—proof of a lineage rich in royal blood. But as I looked at Enrique’s eyes, I realized that Scarlett’s were not tinged with red like his were. Instead, they were a shade of amethyst exactly between red and blue. “Scarlett’s execution is certain—which is why I hope you will forgive me for marrying Cecilia.” I don’t believe those words came from a man who wanted to be with the woman he loved. His expression was too grief-stricken for that. But I could not bring myself to answer his request. Because the girl who once told him, I will allow it, with that confident smile of hers, was no longer with us. “…You beat me.” The man sitting across from me threw the cards in his hand onto the table. “Damn it, I’ve lost again. You’re pretty good at this, young lady.” I wasn’t particularly good at gambling. I was good at numbers and statistics, which was why I limited myself to card games. I was in the gambling hall my informant had told me about. The Goat’s Ankle was, at first glance, just like any other restaurant for the masses. However, in its basement was a gambling hall awash with greed. It wasn’t only cash the gamblers wagered for. “Was it Paradise you wanted to know about? The bird brings it.” “The bird?” “The bird that signals a new day. I can say no more.” His words led me to the criminal organization Daeg Gallus. I considered discussing it with Randolph, but I knew that people from the organization were already in the Security Force. I didn’t suspect that straitlaced man of being one of them, but the fact remained that I didn’t know him well enough yet to trust him. It was around the same time that I began to sense someone watching me. But whenever I turned around, no one was there. One day several weeks later, I noticed a dark-skinned, sunny-looking young man out of the corner of my eye. Cecilia’s trader. The hair on my arms stood on end. Perhaps I had been too obvious in my attempts to gather information. I don’t remember how I got home that day. I was exhausted in both body and mind. For once, Randolph came home early. The moment he saw me lying on the sofa, he furrowed his brows. “You look pale,” he said, sounding less like a worried husband and more like a senior employee scolding his subordinate for failing to take care of her health. I frowned and sat up. “I haven’t been getting enough sleep. My new project is at an impasse.” “I see. Can I help you with anything?” “…Why?” For some reason, I felt defensive. He had never involved himself in my business before. Why now? “A colleague told me married couples are supposed to support one another. He’s always been a nosy one.” His unexpected response took the wind from my sails. I blinked. Normally I would have laughed it off, but at that moment, his proposal struck me as appealing. A little devil whispered in my ear: Just pretend you never heard about that silly old plot. Then you can return to your peaceful, satisfying old life… Suddenly, a vision of my future with Randolph flashed before my eyes. He was a workaholic without the least bit of delicacy, but I had already come to realize that underneath all that was a serious, kind man. Living out our lives as partners who supported one another wouldn’t be so bad. Not bad, but… Not the path I was meant to take. “Miss Lily!” George came running from the far side of the sparkling fountain, gasping for breath. “Look, look! I can write my name!” He handed me a crumpled scrap of paper. I flattened it out. The letters of his name were written across it, lines unsteady like wriggling worms. “Hey, no fair, I did too!” “Me too!” “And me!” Mira, Mark, and Carol, four-year-olds like George, had soon surrounded me. They were all grinning with pride in their newfound ability to write their names. If war breaks out— These children with no families of their own would be the first victims. I bit my lip at the thought. I was boxed in on every side. In the end, I was no more than a helpless young girl. I was no match for the hulking enemy I had so carelessly offended. “…Tony,” I said, calling over the redheaded boy who was keeping watch over the others from a slight distance. With a solemn expression, I told him the password I’d heard the man use with Cecilia, so that at the very least, the children might be able to avoid danger. Tony gave me a puzzled look. “Kiriki kirikuku? What’s that?” “It’s a spell to show you who the bad guys are… If something happens to me in the future, I want you to say this spell to anyone who comes asking about me.” “A spell…” “Yes. If they react even a little, that means they are a very bad person, and I want you to take everyone with you and run away. You can do that, right, Tony?” Of all the children at the orphanage, Tony had the strongest sense of responsibility and was the most reliable. I thought he would handle my request quite well, but he stared at me in silence with a troubled expression. “What’s the matter?” “…You have to come with us, Miss Lily,” he said, on the verge of tears. “I wouldn’t like it if you weren’t with us.” I gulped. “What do you mean about something happening to you?” he went on. “Do you mean something bad? I’ll do anything to keep the bad things away from you! Don’t worry. I’m a kid, but I’m strong…!” What should I do? How could I protect these innocent children from a horrible future? That very instant, I made up my mind. I would place my final bet. “Oh, Miss Lily! You seem to have dropped something.” As I walked down the street, an acquaintance who happened to be passing by stopped me. “Oh dear, how could I have been so careless!” I said, making a great show of hurriedly picking up the object I had dropped. “…Is that a key?” the woman asked, peering with interest into my hand. Someone was still following me. The other day I had allowed myself to become panicked, but upon reflection, I realized it was already clear they did not plan to attack me immediately. Which meant I could use the situation to my own advantage. “Yes, but please don’t tell anyone about it. It’s a secret.” That was why I was acting in a way I was sure would draw their attention. I was sending a message that I knew about their plans. That I had information—that I had a trump card. That’s what I wanted them to think. “I’ve hidden something very important,” I said, flashing the fake key at her. I knew someone must be watching. The key to ensuring a plot succeeds is to finish before anyone realizes what you’re up to. That’s what Scarlett told me. I had sent a letter to Cecilia asking to speak with her about charitable education and had received an appointment with surprising speed. Was it coincidence, or wasn’t it? Several days later, I was walking down a hallway in the Elbaite Palace heading to my audience with the princess when I bumped into Enrique. I stepped aside and looked down, but he told me to raise my head. “You’re on your way to meet Cecilia, aren’t you? I’ve been hearing good things about you lately. My father was praising—” “Your Highness,” I interrupted, at the risk of sounding disrespectful. “Do you remember when you asked me to forgive you for marrying Cecilia?” His face tensed slightly. That was the day I had learned that Scarlett, imprisoned for a crime she did not commit, had no chance of escaping execution. That day I had been unable to answer his question, which had sounded more like a plea. But now, for some reason, I found the words spilling effortlessly from my mouth, just as they had when the three of us had played and laughed together. “What in the world have you been doing these eight years? It’s downright fourth-rate.” He must not have been expecting those words, because his magenta eyes widened in surprise. Then he grimaced as if deeply hurt. “…You’re right. As things stand, I cannot expect forgiveness.” I couldn’t help snorting in laughter at his pitiful, unkingly attitude. “I’m the wrong person to ask in the first place,” I replied. “Only one person in the world can forgive you.” That young girl who was haughtier, fiercer, and more beautiful than anyone else. Enrique’s eyelids trembled. Still a crybaby, I thought, remembering the old days. “You haven’t given up yet, have you, Your Highness?” He must have had some goal in marrying Cecilia. Unfortunately, he seemed not to have achieved it yet. He nodded, biting his lip. “In that case,” I said, like I had once long ago, “I will buy you some time.” “Which is to say, I believe that the advancement of Adelbide itself hinges on educating the children of the slums,” I said, wrapping up my argument for the future of charitable education. Cecilia clapped her hands enthusiastically. “I knew I could expect something marvelous from you, Lily! It’s a wonderful idea!” “Thank you very much. Actually, I have already been to the slum several times to get a sense of the situation. I think the church on Leda Street will require some repairs.” Cecilia looked at me, expressionless. “Speaking of which,” I went on, “I saw Your Highness the other day.” “Do you mean to suggest that I would go to a place like that?” “I never said where I saw you,” I replied with a smile, tilting my head slowly. “But that reminds me, have you ever heard of the Holy Grail of Eris?” Silence descended. I stood and curtsied gracefully. “If you have, I suggest that you reconsider your plans. You can’t make the same mistake twice now, can you?” I had thought and thought about what to do, trying to find another way. But in the end, I realized it was an impossible task for a sheltered noble’s daughter. Accepting defeat, however, was out of the question. Lily Orlamunde has always hated losing. I left the palace and climbed into a fiacre by the side of the road. I told the driver to take me not to the Ulster residence but instead to the Orlamunde mansion. The cheap carriage rattled down the street. It had been a long time since I’d ridden in a carriage without a family crest. The last time, in fact, was immediately after Scarlett was sentenced to death. On that day, too, I had boarded a carriage hoping to avoid prying eyes and taken it to the prison where she was locked up. Executions were vulgar public carnivals at which the victim was paraded before a mocking, jeering mob. I couldn’t stand the thought of haughty, beautiful Scarlett meeting such an end. And so I immediately secured what I thought she needed. It would work quickly, ensuring death with as little suffering as possible. At the very least, her dignity would be preserved. But— “No thank you.” Her voice was terribly nonchalant and cold. Even dressed in a dull gray shift, Scarlett was as beautiful as ever. “Just who in the world do you think I am?” she asked, snorting disdainfully. She was acting exactly as she always did. “You think I’m going to turn my back and flee? You must be joking.” I stood there gaping at her. “A public execution, is it? What could be better? I’ll have the last laugh, and then I’ll rub their noses in it.” At that moment, Scarlett Castiel was as beautiful as she was the day I met her. She had beaten me again. Inside the swaying carriage, I ripped a page from the tourism pamphlet I had brought with me and wrote a note on the paper. Then I slipped it into an envelope holding the fake key and sealed it shut. I tossed the rest of the pamphlet out the carriage window. When I arrived at my family home, I went immediately to the chapel. Fortunately, nobody questioned me. I had done everything I needed to do. I had had the key engraved with the code and left all the information I could gather at the museum. And I had told the children at the orphanage what they needed to do if it came to that. Most likely, Daeg Gallus would come for me very soon. That was only natural. I had set it up that way myself. I had hinted at the existence of the key to those around me and said I’d hidden something more important than life itself. I had lit the fuse myself, of my own will. Not to brag, but before this, I had never done anything violent. I was not confident that I could withstand torture or the like. In other words, once I had placed this bet, my only choice was to act before they did. Cecilia had said at the church that they could not afford to make any more mistakes. I would use that against them. As long as they didn’t know what cards I held, they would be temporarily immobilized.