Light filtering through the curtains woke Connie. She rubbed her eyes and stifled a yawn. She’d had a hard time falling asleep the previous night. According to the letter Lily Orlamunde had left behind, Faris had been trying to invade Adelbide—its supposed ally—ten years earlier. San and Eularia, who were supporters of Princess Alexandra, had said the same thing. But according to them, the plan had failed at the last minute. The reason? Why, the execution of Scarlett Castiel, of course. What in the world could San have meant by that? Connie shook her head and climbed out from under the covers. She walked over to the window and threw aside the curtain. Sunlight poured in, illuminating the dim room. She squinted. Behind her, someone snorted. “This damn weather is so perfect, it’s depressing.” Scarlett’s disdainful tone was the same as always. But Connie detected a hint of unease, perhaps the result of San’s words. San had left without explaining what she meant—talk about evasive. The revelation had shocked Connie, but she wasn’t sure about Scarlett’s reaction. When she tried to remember, everything was hazy. In other words, mouthy Scarlett had kept her thoughts to herself for once. And that hadn’t changed. Her continued silence about the previous day’s events struck Connie as unnatural. Connie stared at her. Noticing this, Scarlett scowled back suspiciously. “What?” “Nothing, I was just wondering if…you’re okay.” “Me?” Her well-shaped eyebrows shot up. It seemed she was as short-tempered as ever. Just as the room’s atmosphere was beginning to chill, someone knocked on the door. Grateful, Connie called out, “Yes?” Marta opened the door, looking slightly frazzled. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re awake. Sir Ulster is here.” “His Excellency?” Connie asked, blinking in surprise. She didn’t remember making a date with him. “He said he happened to be in the neighborhood,” Marta explained. “What shall I tell him, miss?” Connie opened the door of her wardrobe in a panic. “I’ll get dressed right away, so please ask him to wait a moment—” “I guessed as much. I’ve already shown him into the drawing room. He appears to be off work today. I’ve brought him some tea as well, so you just take your time and get dressed, miss. Did you hear me? Take your time. I won’t have you going out there in one of your usual slapdash outfits, with your hair barely brushed. And remember, however anxious you feel, a lady must not run!” “Yes, ma’am!” Connie replied smartly, slipping off her nightgown, grabbing the first dress her hand touched, and pulling it over her head. Ignoring Marta’s screeches of admonishment, Connie flew out of the room, still tugging a comb through her hair. She was sorry about not listening to Marta, but the only reason she could think of for Randolph dropping in to see her like this was Daeg Gallus. The fact that he hadn’t sent word in advance surely meant there must be some emergency. Or so she thought. But for some reason, when she got to the drawing room and sat down, the young man across from her, dressed all in black, remained silent as he stirred a cube of sugar into his tea. Connie was sure the sugar must have fully dissolved by now, but the unspeakably solemn atmosphere emanating from His Excellency kept her silent, too. Finally, Randolph stopped stirring. “Actually…,” he began. His unusually stern expression sent a nervous shiver down her back. “…I went to the Castiel residence the other day.” He fell silent. Around the time his tea was becoming lukewarm, she tilted her head in confusion and finally managed to ask, “And…?” He looked the same as always. She was used to his masculine features and bearing by now. Since he was off work, he wasn’t wearing his military uniform, but she wasn’t surprised to see him nevertheless dressed as if he were on his way to a funeral. She had known Randolph Ulster long enough by now to understand certain things about him. For example, he didn’t much care for sweet things, but he did enjoy nut cookies. He preferred tea to coffee. She had learned all sorts of things about him over the past two weeks. That was how she knew he was acting a little strangely today. No, more than a little. Right this very moment, he was adding three more cubes of sugar to his tea. Normally he didn’t even add one. Watching the fourth sugary victim drop from his fingers into the teacup with a plop, she made up her mind to speak. “And, um, did something happen?” Randolph widened his eyes slightly, then glanced around restlessly. “…Hmm?” He really was acting strangely. Normally his forbidding expression made even military men shake in their boots, but today it was utterly transparent. Connie vaguely remembered reading in Young Lady’s Friend, her favorite magazine, that in a situation like this, a lady ought to pretend she’d noticed nothing, and now she’d gone and said something. She couldn’t think of any way to smooth it over, either. They stared at each other for a moment. Scarlett was the one who broke the silence with a discontented snort. “I’m the one who ought to be depressed right now,” she said. “…Why?” “Randolph Ulster went to my house, didn’t he? That can only mean one thing. It was my father’s fault.” “…Whaaat?” Although Connie couldn’t make sense of Scarlett’s words, she had a feeling she’d just said something terribly important. “If we can believe what those two women from Faris said, my execution allowed the kingdom to avoid war with their country, did it not?” she continued. Connie recalled the words of the woman with hair like sunshine. “Deep down, I always knew my father would sell his own daughter without a second’s hesitation if it would help the kingdom.” “The Duke Castiel?!” Connie shouted. Randolph looked away. “Your Excellency!” she said in an unintentionally accusing tone. Why was he being so obvious today? “I knew it,” Scarlett said with a shrug. Adolphus Castiel had sent his own daughter to the executioner’s block. Connie was in shock. Could it possibly be true? Could such a thing happen? Something so cruel? She reflexively glanced at Scarlett, who looked innocently back at her as if nothing at all was wrong. But for some reason, to Connie, she looked like she was about to cry. Connie hesitated for only a second. “…Let’s go, Scarlett.” “Go where?” “Let’s go talk to the duke right now,” she said, gazing into Scarlett’s amethyst eyes. Scarlett gaped at her, and Randolph groaned. “Miss Grail—” “What, Your Excellency? It’s no use trying to stop us.” “…The duke isn’t an easy man to gain access to,” Randolph said reproachfully, after some hesitation. True enough, Adolphus Castiel was a high noble rumored to be nearly as powerful as the king himself. Not so long ago, Connie wouldn’t have dreamed of trying to see him. But she had changed. “If I fail today, there’s always tomorrow. If I fail tomorrow, there’s always the next day. And the day after that. As long as I don’t give up, he’s sure to see me eventually. So I’ll go to see him today.” She knew now that as long as she didn’t give up, a path would open before her. No matter how hard the battle, there was always a way forward. Randolph drew his brows together, sighed like he was suppressing a headache, and turned toward Connie. “…I see. In that case, I will arrange for you to meet the duke. Please wait a few days. Do you understand? You must wait. Do not even consider doing something as foolish as trying to sneak into a mansion that closely guarded.” For some reason, he was very insistent in his warning. Honestly, what kind of person did he take her for? She was the plain, average, unremarkable daughter of a viscount. That was all. Obviously, she pretended with all her might not to hear when Scarlett jokingly said, “Oh dear, he’s seen right through us!” Thanks to His Excellency the Grim Reaper’s earnest efforts to restrain his fiancée, plans were made for her to meet Duke Castiel two days later, on the condition that he accompany her himself. “Does that man intend to become your watchdog?” As usual, Scarlett was perched on the dresser with the three-paneled mirror in Connie’s room. The rounded edge must have made a comfortable seat, because it had become her standard spot. Although her spiteful tone and exasperated shrug at first seemed typical, Connie thought Scarlett’s expression looked slightly lackluster. Maybe Connie was imagining things. But having gotten the idea in her head, she couldn’t get it out. She bit her lip. Shaking her head to clear away her doubts, she summoned her courage. “Let’s go for a walk!” she suggested brightly. “A walk?” “Yes! I’ve heard that spending time in the sun improves your mood! Not that I think y-you need to improve your mood, of course!” She had intended to sound casual, but it came off a little forced. Scarlett gave her a hard stare, then snorted. “Fine, but I’ll tell you something else I’ve heard. Spending time in the sun turns dead people to ash.” They wandered aimlessly down the tree-lined street outside the Grail residence. The summer sun beat down as strong as ever. Connie shaded her eyes against the white light. Just then, she heard someone behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw a woman with a dark hood pulled low over her eyes standing on the sidewalk. When Connie flinched, the woman raised her hood. The cloth fell away to reveal curly red hair and gray-green eyes. Connie knew those features infuriatingly well. “A-Amel—!” “Shh! Be quiet. That woman will kill me if she finds out I’m still in the kingdom.” “What?!” Quite a thing to say, Connie thought to herself. But Amelia Hobbes ignored her confusion and quickly pulled some papers from the bosom of her dress, pressing them into Connie’s hands. “Hey, wait, what is this?!” Connie protested. Afraid of being pulled into another mess, Connie tried to return the papers, but Amelia had already backed away. “Go ahead, keep them. They contain all the information I’ve collected about Crown Princess Cecilia,” Amelia said proudly. “The rest is up to you.” “…Huh?” Connie was bewildered. Amelia must have sensed her confusion, because she turned around as she was leaving and raised her eyebrows in irritation. “You really are dense…! I’m telling you to use this information to throw that woman in jail! You like that sort of thing, don’t you?” No, Connie didn’t. Not one bit. She shook her head, but Amelia seemed not to see. Incomprehensible. “Do a good job of it, all right? I’ll be back when the fuss blows over. I have high expectations for you, Constance Grail!” she announced arrogantly, before slipping into a two-horse carriage that must have been waiting for her. The carriage clattered off at a furious pace. Connie looked back and forth between the bundle of papers in her hand and the cloud of dust on the road. “What just happened…?” she mumbled. “—And that about sums it up.” Connie had gone straight from her encounter with Amelia to the O’Brian residence, where she told Abigail and the others about how the redheaded reporter had ambushed her. Aldous Clayton looked like he had just discovered a dead fish by the side of the road. “…Amelia went missing a few days ago,” he said. “I was sure someone made her disappear to shut her up—but she seems to be more stubborn than I realized.” The papers from Amelia appeared to be an unfinished article. It was covered in red lines, arrows, and notes, which made it nearly impossible to read. No doubt she had planned to make a clean copy and submit it to some publisher. As far as Connie could tell from a quick skim, there were some exaggerations, but basically the article said that Crown Princess Cecilia’s mother had been a prostitute, that Kevin Jennings discovered the truth and was subsequently debilitated by drug addiction, and that the hospital he was staying at was run by a charitable organization directed by Princess Cecilia. Crown Princess Cecilia, having received the management rights to Saint Nicholas Hospital from the earl, Kalvin Campbell… Something caught Connie’s eye, and she stopped reading. Kalvin Campbell. She’d heard that name before. Very recently, too. “My, my, it’s our friend the judge. The one who was planning to hand down an unjust verdict for Abigail,” Scarlett said. “…That’s right!” Kimberly Smith had dealt with him after she learned he’d been cooking books at the Violet Association. Connie tried to remember what else she knew about him. According to an anonymous source, the earl handed over the hospital under pressure from Comptroller of the Treasury S, a loyal supporter of Crown Princess Cecilia. S, originally an army man, is said to be in line for the position of Comptroller-General of the Treasury… Someone was tittering. Connie looked up. It was Abigail. “This article is supposed to be an exposé of Cecilia, but it actually contains something even more interesting. I’m sure Amelia didn’t even realize it.” “I’m afraid I don’t understand, myself…,” Connie admitted apologetically. “After my trial, I wanted to know what Kalvin Campbell’s relationship to Daeg Gallus was, so I poked around a little,” she explained. “He may not look it, but he’s actually quite cunning, it seems. I learned he’s been laundering money in more places than just the Violet Association. Until now, I didn’t know where he was getting it.” She paused to smile mischievously before continuing. “Comptroller of the Treasury S is most likely Simon Darkian. Do you know who he is? Deborah’s husband, who married into the Darkian family.” “Deborah’s husband…?” Connie couldn’t forget Deborah even if she wanted to. She was the glamorous, cruel woman who had tried to pass judgment on Connie in the Starlight Room in the Grand Merillian and had been involved in human trafficking at the Earl John Doe Ball. “The article says the earl gave up the hospital under pressure, but Campbell is utterly corrupt. I have no doubt he demanded a reward. Considering Simon’s position…perhaps he asked him to turn a blind eye to his ill-gotten cash.” Connie was still confused. “But why did they want him to give up the hospital?” “This is only a guess, but it seems likely they were doing clinical tests of Jackal’s Paradise there. Under the pretext of treatment, of course. If the oh-so-charitable crown princess was involved, no one would ask too many questions even if their activities were a little suspicious. The question is, just who is Simon, the middleman? Although the answer is fairly clear by now.” Just then, Scarlett seemed to remember something. “That reminds me,” she muttered. “Simon was having an affair with Aisha’s cousin ten years ago.” Aisha’s cousin? Connie blinked, unsure what Scarlett was talking about. It sounded vaguely familiar, though. After a moment, she remembered that the rumor was about Sharon Spencer, who had died the same day as Aisha. She recalled the conversation she’d had with a friend after bumping into her at Sharon’s funeral. It was back when Sharon was engaged…so it must have been about ten years ago. Apparently, she was seeing someone other than her fiancé. Can you guess who she was seeing? Simon Darkian. “…You said the Jackal’s Paradise going around today is very different from what people used to use—that they changed it to suit their needs,” Scarlett said. “Which means they must have tested it on people before actually putting it to use. After all, things don’t always work out how you think they will. I’m sure there were failures. Ten years ago, Sharon was a quiet, obedient girl. The kind who would never go against someone in a higher position.” Just before Aisha died, she had told Aldous to talk to Sharon. Ten years ago, Aisha had stolen a bottle of weight-loss tonic from her cousin. She had used it to harm Cecilia, not knowing it was poison. Scarlett had said it herself. Maybe it was Jackal’s Paradise in that bottle. When she’d said it, it had been a mere possibility. But what if the “weight-loss tonic” really was a failed version of Jackal’s Paradise from when it was still being tested? A chill ran down Connie’s back. Was Deborah’s husband a member of Daeg Gallus? And what about Deborah herself? “…Aisha Huxley,” Scarlett said in a low voice as Connie hugged herself to keep from shaking. “Enrique. Cecilia. Daeg Gallus. Those sly foxes from Faris, and my father. And now the Darkians?” Unmistakable fury emanated from her subdued voice. “All of them…!” Her amethyst eyes glinted with violent emotion. They were so beautiful, Connie couldn’t help staring. “I’ve had all the rudeness I can stomach! How am I supposed to know who to exact revenge on when everything is such a mess?! How about thinking about me for a change?!” But her words were absurd. “Well, I’m going to tear that ridiculous plot called the Holy Grail of Eris to pieces and slap silly each and every fool who had a hand in my execution…!” Wait one second! Connie wanted to say as Scarlett let her feelings explode in a torrent. True, Connie had made up her mind to help Scarlett get revenge. She had no objection to that. Scarlett might have a slightly problematic personality, but nevertheless, she was an innocent person who had been driven to her death. The responsible parties deserved to be punished. Punished in a proper and just way, of course. But that wasn’t the problem right now. The problem was who, exactly, was going to slap all those eminent personages Scarlett had just named? Scarlett stamped her foot. Her father had promised her over a month ago that today he would take her to see the play everyone was raving about. She hadn’t had her father all to herself in a long time, and she had been eagerly counting down the days. And now this? “Father doesn’t care about me at all!” she shouted angrily. The message saying he wouldn’t be able to make it home arrived just after she had put on her new dress and had the maid pile her hair into a fetching updo. What a fool she must have looked, spinning around in front of the mirror, so pleased with herself. She picked up whatever was closest at hand and hurled it onto the floor. “He always does this! Always! Father hates me, I’m sure of it! He never even kisses my cheek before bedtime…!” A muddled mix of feelings welled up in her chest. She bit her lip, trying not to cry. “—Your father may look clever, but in fact, he’s a very awkward man,” a soothing voice told her. “Please don’t be angry with him. Oh, and he’s also extremely stubborn.” “Are you telling me to simply put up with it, Mother?!” Scarlett looked up. Her mother, Aliénore, giggled. “Not in the least. You’ve done nothing wrong. At times like this, there are other ways. I’m going to tell you a magic phrase that has been passed down in my family over the years.” “Magic…?” “Yes. A magic spell you must remember,” Scarlett’s mother whispered, her amethyst eyes glittering with excitement. “If you have a complaint, tell it to Cornelia Faris.” Adolphus smiled wryly. The fiancée whom Randolph had somewhat pushily insisted on bringing over to introduce only looked more ordinary the longer he examined her. The way she kept glancing around nervously reminded him of some small animal. Constance Grail. The impression he got from seeing her was completely incongruous with her actions over the past few months. At first, he had wondered if someone else was pulling the strings, but that suspicion had vanished when she became engaged to Randolph Ulster. He had too high an opinion of Randolph for that, even discounting the natural partiality he felt toward the son of his deceased friend. But Adolphus still didn’t understand why he had come. He could hardly imagine it was genuinely to introduce his fiancée. “I’m a busy man. Did the sincere young lady want to ask me something?” he asked provocatively, thinking of the many ways in which this girl was going against the Grail family motto. She hesitated, as if trying to decide whether it was really all right to speak her mind. She looked up timidly at Randolph, who was sitting next to her. Only when he nodded did she seem to make her decision. Her green eyes took in Adolphus. “Duke, are you the one who sent Scarlett to the executioner’s block?” Adolphus’s eyes widened at her words and the force of will that filled them. He had taken her for the kind of ordinary girl you could find anywhere. He let out a low laugh at her unexpectedly steely nerve. “If I am, what will you do?” Constance Grail turned down her mouth in consternation. “…That would be a bit of a problem.” “For me? Or for you?” “For both of us,” she mumbled. Apparently, the spirit animating her a moment ago had vanished, because she looked ready to die. Somehow, her open display of nerves caught him off guard and made him speak when he otherwise might not have. “What are you doing this for?” he asked. Those green eyes blinked. “For her,” she said, like the answer was obvious. “…You mean as an act of kindness?” “No. It was I who received the first kindness. Now I want to return it.” He saw nothing false in her expression. Adolphus was confused. He could think of only one person involved with all of Constance Grail’s actions—but that was impossible. Because that person was no longer of this world. “And what is your relationship to this benefactor? You said ‘her,’ so I assume you are not referring to this unsociable fiancé of yours.” She glanced at the empty air before crossing her arms with a troubled look. “Our relationship? Well, we’re a bit like friends, or perhaps like a boss and her underling, or a bully and her victim…” As Adolphus was trying to decipher this answer, her face brightened. “I think of her as a partner, although she might not like that term.” Her smile was as carefree as that of a small child. It was perhaps her unaffected expression that prompted him to speak. “And this person…,” he began. It was an absolutely absurd idea. But if this person was who Adolphus thought it was… “…They must surely detest me.” Constance Grail fell silent. “…May I say something?” she asked finally. “Of course,” Adolphus answered, nodding. The green-eyed girl stood slowly, took a deep breath— And slapped Adolphus hard across the cheek. The bride from across the sea was a picture-perfect wife. Ernst had strong-armed Adolphus into taking some time off after the wedding. That said, returning to the family domain kept him as busy as ever. In particular, the Morell River had flooded the previous year, and workers were reconstructing embankments and inspecting canals. Adolphus was occupied with meetings and inspections for most of the daytime hours, and sometimes his engagements stretched over days. Although Aliénore ended up essentially alone in an unfamiliar land, she never once complained. To the contrary, Adolphus heard she was caring for her stepson, Maximilian, as if he were her own, even though they didn’t share a drop of blood. Her sole fault was her frail constitution. When Adolphus learned she had a fever, he returned home for the first time in a week. Aliénore was resting in her bedroom. When he asked how she felt, she smiled innocently. “What?” he asked. “You seem to be worried about me,” she replied, giggling. “Of course I am. You are my wife.” He stroked her forehead soothingly. Her smile widened. “My dear…” “What is it?” “In the future…” Her voice was as warm as the spring sunshine caressing his ears. “Would you mind waiting until you’re asleep to talk nonsense?” Adolphus raised his eyebrows in confusion. He felt like his wife had just said something strange. He looked at her. The same placid smile was still on her lips. Had he imagined it? As he was thinking this over, she continued. “Or were you sleeping with your eyes open? That would be a problem of its own. It could be a sign of illness. Otherwise, I suggest you look up the definition of wife in the dictionary. A person with whom you do not share a bedroom and with whom, even when you do meet, you limit your conversation to mere greetings is not usually called a wife. They are called an acquaintance.” Adolphus’s mouth fell open. “Whatever is the matter?” Aliénore asked. “Nothing… It’s just that my impression of you has changed…,” he said in a fluster. Predictably, she giggled charmingly. “Impressions aren’t worth a damn if you’ve only met someone a handful of times.” “Damn?” Adolphus blinked at the unexpectedly coarse word. “Oh, pardon me. As you know, I was raised in the countryside.” It finally dawned on him. “…Are you angry?” Her smile slowly widened. “As I said,” she replied. He noticed something then. Her jewel-like amethyst eyes were not smiling in the least. “I would appreciate it if you waited until you’re asleep to talk nonsense, you dunderhead.” “Dunderwhat…?” “Dunderhead.” “What does that mean?” “…It’s not something a lady can say.” She was blushing, apparently on purpose, which was enough for him to guess that the meaning wasn’t very nice. “And I am not angry. I am praying.” A saintly smile was pasted on her beautiful face. “Praying that every last one of them dies.” “…That’s not very nice.” She giggled frivolously again. “My life has never been very nice,” she said as casually as if she were talking about the weather. “I may be a foolish little girl, but I’m not so ignorant that I don’t understand your concerns. I know that the blood in this body of mine has the power to spark a war. Although I myself would never wish for that, of course.” A dark flame flickered in the depths of those amethyst eyes. Her gaze pierced Adolphus. “But are you telling me that means I should simply bear the burden? Are you saying I ought to accept being treated as a prisoner until I die? That it’s right for you to show me how broad the sky is and then, when things turn bad, shut me up in a dungeon where the sun doesn’t reach? I might as well be dead!” “That’s not—” Adolphus began, but then broke off. The girl in front of him was made not of fragile glass but of burning hot steel. He had heedlessly touched her before realizing that fact, and now he could not help withdrawing his hand from the painful heat. Which is to say, Adolphus Castiel had been overpowered by a girl more than ten years his junior. “I am about to say something quite rude to you.” “…I see.” He nodded. She smiled happily and stepped slowly toward him. The next instant, a sharp pain shot through his cheek as her fist made contact. His cheekbone made an unpleasant sound. His head reverberated like a bell. He brought his hand to his cheek. It felt hot. A second later, pain washed over him, as if his body had finally realized what was happening. Tears sprang to his eyes. He wondered if the left side of his face might have swelled to twice its normal size.
Chapter 39
24 min read