Chapter 43

Dear Allie, How are you? The rumors say your new residence wears an iron dress so impregnable not even an ant can get in. Reminds me of our old enemy, Ms. Sullivan. I hope you’ll tell me all about it soon—oops, Ria just punched me. That’s why my writing looks all messed up. Pay no attention to that, okay? As for us, I’d like to say we’re doing very well, but unfortunately, we still haven’t found our cute little brother. At this rate, Kendall’s head will look like a logging site. Knowing what a worrier you are, I bet you’re more anxious about us than about yourself these days. But I don’t want you to worry. The wind is blowing from the east. Things are going to be fine, I’m sure of it. Since time immemorial, captured princesses have always been rescued at the last minute. And you know how lucky I am, don’t you, Allie? Please just hold on a little longer. We are coming for you no matter what. I’m so sorry you’ve had to bear the brunt of this. I’ll happily accept up to two slaps across the face as penance. Love, San and Ria The tower was shaped like a gently sloping cone with nothing inside, the only light coming from a round skylight at the top that glinted white in the sun when she looked up. But the walls were smooth, and there was no staircase. Only that empty shaft so tall, it seemed it would reach the clouds. But that was to be expected. Since ancient times, this had served as a prison for royalty, as well as their place of execution. Though they said she was merely awaiting her death, they still gave her three solid meals a day. She got her food trays through a slot no higher than a cat’s head. Someone must have bribed the person who brought them, because lately, letters had been arriving regularly underneath the wooden plates. And that day, a letter she had been waiting and hoping for arrived from abroad. When “Allie” read the words of encouragement, so like their author, she smiled for the first time in a very long time. The day after the ladies’ tea party concluded Roderick was behind the whole scheme, Connie heard that Simon Darkian had killed himself in prison. A few days later, she visited Abigail’s house again, this time with Randolph. She was taken to a leafy courtyard, where tea had been set out on a parasol-shaded table. There, she chatted happily for a while as she drooled over the famous O’Brian pastries. But this peaceful interlude was cut short when Randolph took advantage of a lull in conversation to announce that Deborah Darkian had escaped. “Deborah…escaped?” Abigail echoed with a frown. “Yes. It seems she slipped away when they were transporting her to the convent. The entire capital has been cordoned off since last night, but they still haven’t found her.” “I see…” Abigail sank into thought, looking grim. Even Connie, who had heard the news earlier from Randolph, grew anxious and darted her eyes around the garden. Suddenly, she heard children laughing behind them. She turned around to see two little girls romping in the shade of an evergreen tree a few paces away. Leticia Castiel was laughing happily, her hand over her mouth. The precocious Lucia was smiling mischievously as she whispered something into Lettie’s ear. What in the world could she be saying? Although today’s visit happened to coincide with Deborah’s escape, the original aim had been to introduce Leticia to the O’Brian family. This was a request from Randolph’s friend Maximilian. It seemed little Lettie Castiel was quite shy around strangers, and her father wanted her to make a close friend before her eventual debut in society. Abby’s adopted daughter Lucia was close in age and status to Lettie. Fortunately, their personalities seemed to be a good match as well, because they had warmed up to each other right away and were now running around the garden together laughing hilariously. “…It’s a pity. Debbie didn’t used to be like that.” Connie looked up at the muttered comment. Abigail was smiling sadly. “We were friends when we were little girls, you know. Deborah was quite a bit older, but in those days, she was very shy, and she always used to hide behind me. You’d never guess, would you? I’m not sure exactly when we grew apart,” she said, gazing at Lettie and Lucia as they squealed happily. Then, in a bright tone, as if trying to shake off her gloom, she asked, “And how goes the search for Prince Ulysses?” “Simon didn’t seem to know anything about it,” Randolph answered. “No clues were found at their residence, either.” The group heaved a collective sigh at the lack of progress. Scarlett, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke up. “That trader who used to visit Elbaite Palace all the time kidnapped Ulysses, didn’t he? What does he look like?” Connie relayed the question to Randolph, since only she could hear Scarlett. He nodded. “He’s a young man from the Republic of Soldita. I hear he always wore a hood over his head. I don’t know what his face looks like, but he has dark skin, and they say he probably belongs to one of the minority tribes that were absorbed into the Republic.” “Dark skin, you say?” Scarlett echoed. “Then he must have stood out here in Adelbide. Even if he was using dye to disguise himself, he must have kept it on the whole time he was posing as a trader—after all, he could have been questioned by anyone. He probably drew attention at his hideout, too. No one reported seeing him?” Connie repeated Scarlett’s words, and Randolph shook his head. “That means he must be somewhere no one would find him suspicious. Like a port that constantly has ships coming and going from the Republic. Shouldn’t we be looking into people who own land in such places? Especially those with a connection to Daeg Gallus. Oh, come to think of it, there is one,” Scarlett said with a satisfied smile. “Care to guess? It’s someone you rescued at the old Montrose residence.” Noticing Connie’s confused expression, Scarlett glared down at her in exasperation. Desperately, Connie racked her brain for the answer. The old Montrose residence was where the Earl John Doe Ball took place. Connie remembered a woman who collapsed in the middle of the raid. Scarlett had called her Jane. But that wasn’t her name—it was the nickname for the hallucinogen everyone was using. “That woman’s family owns land by the sea, if I remember correctly,” Scarlett continued. “Randolph said they were involved in smuggling Jackal’s Paradise, I’m sure of it. And I’ll bet that port gets a lot of boats from Soldita. Her name was—” “Kiara Grafton…,” Connie mumbled, the memory suddenly coming back to her. Randolph had told her in the carriage on the way to the Castiel residence the time Maximilian invited them. It was the day she first met Leticia. Randolph nodded as if he understood what she was talking about. “Ah, Kiara. She’s currently in her domain getting treatment for addiction. Her father, too. The Grafton domain isn’t too far from the capital. I believe they own several warehouses on the wharves. It’s quite possible Prince Ulysses is being held there. We’d better look into it immediately.” As he stood up, Connie reflexively cried out, “I’m going with you…!” “No. It’s too dangerous,” His Excellency replied curtly, fixing her with an imposing stare. She flinched but held her ground. “I know I’m useless, but Scarlett will be with me. She might be able to help you, like she did just now. And if everything works out, she could even peek into the warehouses—” “Exactly!” Scarlett broke in. “There’s no solid evidence yet, so he can’t get a warrant, and if he brings along his team, all the commotion will probably tip off the troublemakers. But I’m invisible, and brilliant, too. Just as Connie said, I’ve got the strength and skill of a hundred men, to put it mildly!” “I didn’t say that,” Connie replied with a straight face. After a pause, Randolph said stiffly, “…We’ll need someone to take Leticia back to the Castiel residence.” Abigail, who had been observing their exchange in silence, raised her hand. “I’ll have one of my servants take her back. Will that do? Let’s allow them to play a little longer, though. It’s not even noon yet, and they’re having so much fun.” Out of plausible excuses, Randolph Ulster sighed in quiet resignation. The carriage ride from the capital to the wharves in the Grafton domain would take half a day. They stopped at the Security Force headquarters to check the address of the marquess’s warehouses, then immediately boarded a long-distance carriage. The roads became rougher the farther they got from the capital, and the carriage began to rise and fall rhythmically, as if it were being tossed on the waves. Randolph was taciturn. Although his expression remained blank, he gave off a frightening aura. “…Are you a-angry?” Connie asked without really meaning to. “No,” he replied, though his tone was fairly curt. Noticing that Connie had stiffened, he tried to lighten up the mood. “I’m really not. I’m just trying to convince myself I’m better off keeping you in my sight than having you off doing who knows what.” “Oof…” It might’ve been better if he were simply angry, Connie thought, hanging her head. They were both silent for a few moments, before she finally said, “By the way, the paperwork for the public announcement of our engagement arrived from the church.” “…Did it?” Randolph hesitated over his words for a moment. Then he continued flatly, “I should have told you sooner, but my uncle has officially announced he intends to pass on the Richelieu title to his son. It looks like I’ve escaped that troublesome role after all. So…” I don’t want to hear any more, Connie thought, despite herself. She knew what he was going to say. “So we ought to make arrangements to dissolve the engagement once the kidnapping is solved. Of course, we’ll do it in a way that lays no fault on you.” Her heart hurt. It was pounding in her ears. She felt as if she had been abandoned alone on an unfamiliar road. Loneliness and unease washed over her. When he saw Connie’s lost expression, Randolph showed an emotion for once, knitting his brows in concern. “…I’m sure the right fellow will appear very soon,” he said slowly, as if he were explaining something to a child. “The kind of man who would never hurt or kill anyone.” Connie shook her head without looking up. “…What are you going to do, Your Excellency?” “Return to my old life.” “You won’t…marry?” She looked up and saw a flash of conflict in his cerulean eyes. After a moment of hesitation, he said, “…No. I am not confident I can make someone else happy.” Scarlett rolled her eyes. “What an idiotic man,” she muttered. By the time they reached the Grafton domain, the sun was beginning to sink. In case a lookout had been posted, they stopped the carriage a block before the wharf and disembarked. The sky was beginning to turn deep red in the west, but on the docks, workers were still unloading cargo from ships and inspecting the contents. After walking a short distance, the activity around them faded, and presently, they came to several rows of gable-roofed brick buildings. Peering around warily, Randolph and Connie read off the address numbers engraved in each building. “It’s the third one from the left in this row,” Randolph whispered, looking down at the map in his hand. “I don’t see any guards. Think our guess was wrong?” “It is strange,” Scarlett said. “There’s a lattice window on the second floor. I’ll go have a look inside.” Connie watched as she floated up and peered into the window. “…What?” Connie heard her blurt out. She sounded upset. The next moment, Scarlett whipped her head around, squinting her amethyst eyes into the distance. For a moment, she seemed to be searching for something. Then she gave a soft gasp. “Scarlett?” At almost the same moment as Connie tilted her head in question, something flew through the air and landed near her feet, rolling across the ground. It was an oval piece of cast iron the size of her palm. “Run!” Scarlett screamed. “Run?!” Connie echoed. At that, Randolph pulled Connie protectively into his arms, leaped into the shadows, and pulled her facedown onto the ground. An instant later, an explosion thundered in her ears as a blinding flash of light consumed her world. Lucia O’Brian was practically floating on air. For the first time in her life, she had made a friend her own age. She had hair the color of black tea with lots of milk, pale magenta eyes, and a face like an angel. At first, she had acted as wary as a stray kitten, but very soon they were as close as sisters. Lucia had never dreamed she would experience such happiness. Until a few years earlier, simply staying alive had taken all her energy. It was Abigail who had rescued her from that hellish place. She and kind Teddy, who looked like a bear, and Rudy, who had a bad mouth but always looked after her. The three of them were Lucia’s irreplaceable treasures. From now on, Abby had told her with a smile, your stock of treasures will only grow. Lucia grinned. She was so excited. Outside the carriage window, Anastasia Street was lively as always. On the way to take Leticia back home, they had decided to make a stop and buy some of the cookies that everyone was talking about in the castle district. She’d heard they looked like shells small enough to eat in one bite. Supposedly, the crispy pastry had loads of custard filling inside. She knew Abby would enjoy them. Plus, she’d been so busy lately. The maid went into the shop first to look around, then came back to inform them that there was a line and that she would go back in and wait. In the meantime, the two girls would stay in the carriage and chat. Not a moment later, Leticia was looking curiously out the window when she exclaimed, “Oh no, that cat’s hurt!” and jumped out of the carriage. Sure enough, the cat she was running toward was bleeding from its hind leg. It must have been agitated because of its wound, as its fur stood on end threateningly while it raced off into an alley. Leticia ran after it. The blood drained from Lucia’s face. Although they were in the busy castle district, you never knew where danger might be lurking once you left the main thoroughfare. She jumped out of the carriage in a panic, but Leticia was nowhere to be seen. Although the sun was still high, the alley was deserted and dusky. Her heart was beating so hard, it hurt. She heard a cat meow behind her. At the same time, a hoarse voice called her name. She turned around. Then she froze. “…Lady Deborah?” Leticia was standing there—with Deborah Darkian. The cat meowed again. Leticia was holding it in her arms. But her face was white as a sheet, and she looked on the verge of tears. “…Oh!” Suddenly, the cat writhed temperamentally, showing no sign of injury, and leaped from Leticia’s arms onto the ground. Leticia let out a gasp but did not chase it. She couldn’t. Deborah was holding a knife to the trembling girl’s neck. Her lips formed a sweet smile. Lucia gulped. She had met Deborah only once before. Abby had taken her to the theater, and by chance, they had run into her. Although it had lasted only a moment, Lucia could not easily forget the way her ashen eyes had burned with loathing. That was why she understood right away what Deborah was trying to do. I’m glad, she thought. I’m so glad Deborah Darkian is the one standing in front of me. After all, it wasn’t Leticia she wanted to hurt. Lucia let out a soft sigh of relief. “Lady Deborah, please let that girl go. The person you want is me—Lucia, isn’t it?” Leticia’s eyes widened. She shook her head frantically. Lucia found herself distracted, worrying the movement might cause the knife to pierce Leticia’s skin. “I don’t think it’s realistic for you to try and take both of us,” she continued. “And I’m sure you’d have a very hard time killing someone with those skinny arms of yours. There would be lots of blood, and it would get all over your dress, and you wouldn’t be able to use your knife anymore.” She walked slowly toward Deborah with both hands held in the air. Deborah let go of Leticia. She’d probably only intended to threaten her from the start. Leticia crumpled to the ground. Lucia quickly looked her over to make sure she wasn’t hurt, then smiled. “Tell Abby I’m sorry, won’t you, Lettie?” Every day of Lucia’s life since she was rescued from that hell had been happy. Really, truly happy. She had no regrets at all. To the contrary, she felt glad she could protect the first friend she had ever made. At her words, Leticia—who had been struggling to catch her breath with hands planted on the ground—jerked up her head. “No!” Lucia’s eyes went wide. She hadn’t expected this kind of resistance. “Never…! Whatever happens, we’re going home together…!” Leticia had been shaking a moment earlier, but now her pale eyes glittered with unmistakable anger. “You witch! You think you’ll get away with this?!” Leticia shouted, latching her arms on to Deborah before Lucia could stop her. Deborah flinched but quickly fixed her cold glare on Leticia. “Shut your mouth, child,” she spat out. Then, with the hand not holding the knife, she whacked the back of the struggling girl’s neck. She must have hit her mark, because Leticia sank back to the ground and did not move again. “Lettie!” Lucia screamed, running to her side. Her face was pale, but her heart was still beating. She seemed to have fainted. As Lucia breathed a sigh of relief, Deborah clamped her hand around the girl’s arm. Lucia looked up. The woman’s cloudy gray eyes reflected her image. “I wonder what face that hypocrite will make when I send her your head!” It seemed Randolph Ulster and his fiancée had left for the wharves in the Grafton domain. When Royal Security Force Lieutenant Jeorg Gaina informed Rufus May of the news in his office at Moldavite Palace, the vice-comptroller-general’s lips curled up in a placid, unreadable smile. “They’ve certainly got sharp eyes,” he said after a pause, in a voice so frighteningly quiet it made cold sweat run down Gaina’s cheek. He tried to explain. “B-but it was a good thing I stationed a guard in the document room, like you said.” Gaina, who was forever being ridiculed as a “spoiled noble boy,” had never gotten along with Randolph, who despite being a noble as well, went about his work shrewdly. All he’d had to do this time was tell his subordinates that their perennial rivals in the Ulster Unit were sniffing around the Earl John Doe Ball incident, and they’d obeyed his orders without question. That had allowed him to get the jump on Randolph. To start with, the whole point of the Earl John Doe ball that night had been to kill Kiara Grafton. Grafton’s lover had convinced her to join the organization, but her drug abuse had caused her to become mentally unstable, so they’d decided to shut her up before she could make a mistake. With Deborah Darkian’s help, they had covered up the attack with a raid. For some reason, however, Constance Grail had been in attendance, and she had rescued Kiara, ruining the plan. At the very least, Gaina had managed to prevent Kiara from being interrogated, but somehow they’d still figured out she was a member of Daeg Gallus. At one point, he’d thought he was getting an ulcer as Kyle Hughes slowly homed in on his blunders. Just thinking about the behavior of that handsome-faced scoundrel made him grip his stomach. “And what’s happening now?” May asked, his tone icy. Gaina hurriedly straightened his back. “It’s all going according to your plan. We’ve already sent a fast horse to the warehouse where they’re hiding, and Salvador and the others are on the move.” Gaina didn’t know how the man acted within the organization, but the Rufus May he knew was extremely shrewd. His schemes were always perfect, right down to his detailed contingency plans for when something went wrong. In the present case, they were supposed to divide into two groups after removing Prince Ulysses from the hiding spot. One would take the boy to a new location while the other handled Randolph and his fiancée. “Did you send a messenger to Pamela Francis?” Gaina’s eyebrow twitched. It was only a few days ago that he’d received a strange message from a liaison for the organization. Apparently, the notorious nobleman’s daughter who was supposed to be recuperating in her family’s domain was back in the capital. He’d been ordered to inform Pamela if that thorn in their side, Constance Grail, somehow figured out Prince Ulysses’s location and made a move. “Yes. I did as I was ordered. By now she should be heading to the Grafton domain. But…,” Gaina said with a confused frown, “…is there any point? Neither of them is likely to come back alive.” It was true that Randolph was a highly skilled man. He had learned from Simon, who was reputed to be one of the top Ulsters in history. But he had no support, and Gaina doubted he’d be able to get out of this particular fix with his untrained fiancée weighing him down. A faint smile formed on Rufus May’s handsome face. “You’re probably right, but nothing is certain. Pamela Francis is our insurance—just in case.” The flash of light lasted only an instant. It seemed they had escaped a direct strike. And thanks to Randolph pulling them behind some scrap wood in the nick of time, they were not injured. Still, Connie’s vision was blurry, and her ears rang and echoed as if a membrane had been stretched over them. “We’re a-alive…” The relief lasted only an instant, however, as a rally of gunshots flew over their heads. Connie froze. “Where’s it coming from?” Sheltering her in his arms, Randolph scanned their surroundings with narrowed eyes. “I saw someone on top of the warehouses a moment ago!” Scarlett answered without pause. “They’re in the third row toward the back left!” “She says th-third row toward the back left! On the roof…!” Connie shouted. She looked in that direction and caught a glimpse of reflected light. “Ah, over there?” Randolph said. He looked up and instantly fired the gun in his hand twice. The recoil reverberated through Connie’s body. The sniper tumbled from the roof and hit the ground with a heavy thud, then lay motionless. “They must’ve been waiting for us. I should’ve been more careful,” Randolph muttered in frustration. For once, Scarlett shook her head. “The warehouse was already empty. It looked like they left in a hurry. They knew you were coming. Instead of blaming yourself, maybe you should try asking who gave you away.” Before Connie could relay her words, another gunshot rang out. “…There’s more of them,” Randolph said, clicking his tongue in irritation. To Connie’s surprise, he released her and pushed her into a blind spot. Gesturing for her to stay still, he leaned partway out of the shadows and returned fire. The gunshots paused briefly, as if the enemy was observing them. Connie cautiously let out the breath she had been holding. But nothing had changed. They were still in danger, and it seemed they had more than one opponent. One misstep would see them filled with holes. She had no idea what to do. She cursed herself for being such a burden. “I’ll draw the enemy’s attention. You escape,” Randolph said. “What…?” “Scarlett, please take care of Miss Grail.” Randolph pushed up the barrel of his gun and discarded the empty shells before swiftly loading fresh bullets. “What was that?” Scarlett said, her well-shaped eyebrows shooting up. Of course, Randolph neither saw nor heard her. And because of that, he didn’t have to answer her. Without a backward glance, Randolph leaped out of the shadows. An instant later, a hailstorm of bullets rained down on him. Connie gasped. He nimbly dodged them, weaving between warehouses and piles of old wood and shooting back exactly where his opponent was standing. “Your Excellency!” But it was impossible for him to dodge every attack. A bullet grazed his arm, sending up a fountain of blood. Without knowing what she was doing, Connie leaped up. She tried to run to his side—but Scarlett stepped in front of her in a panic and held her back. She felt the shock of static electricity. “Think for a second! What can you do by going to him? You’ll only become a second target!” “But His Excellency…!” The gunshots were relentless. Randolph seemed to be hiding in the shadows for the moment, but how long could he last? “Scarlett, what do I do…?!” she wailed, looking up with tear-filled eyes. Scarlett flinched back and hesitated for a moment, then sighed. She was at her wit’s end. “I suppose I have no choice!” she yelled, before floating through the air to Randolph. By the time she noticed, the sun had sunk below the horizon. The moon that a moment ago had been illuminating Lucia’s surroundings must have slipped behind a cloud, because only a faint glow remained. No doubt wanting to escape the crowds downtown, Deborah had taken her to a small house on the outskirts of the city. Perhaps to avoid making a bloody mess, she stopped short of going inside. Instead, she set Lucia down in the garden before taking out her knife. The area was surrounded by woods, meaning no one would hear her if she screamed. “If you’re going to blame anyone, blame Abigail,” Deborah whispered into her ear. Lucia could sense the strength behind the blade as it pressed into her neck. She felt it break through her skin. She shut her eyes, steeling herself for what was to come. “Enough!” An oddly cheerful voice ripped through the silence. “Granny, you’ve become a real pain lately,” the voice went on jokingly. The speaker was a lanky young man. He was holding a large burlap bag in one hand. Lucia blinked at him in surprise. “Salvador?” Deborah sounded upset by this unexpected intruder. “Why are you here?” “I should be asking you the same thing. I wish you wouldn’t use my relay spot without asking. But seriously, did you even think before coming here? Hmm? How many people saw you? I won’t be able to use this house anymore. I just came here to bring some cargo, and now I’ve got more work to do. Man, what a pain. Of course, it’s me that Krishna’s going to chew out.” “I’ll leave as soon as I’m done. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t interfere,” she spat out. The man tilted his head lazily. “Ordinarily, I’d go along with that. I couldn’t care less if you escape or die like a dog. But…” He paused to give a flippant laugh. “…I don’t believe in killing kids.” Lucia looked up in surprise at the man named Salvador. “So just run along to the convent like a good girl. And why don’t you distract those pesky military police while you’re at it. Although you might end up wishing you’d died here,” he said casually, grabbing Deborah’s wrist and twisting it upward until the knife dropped to the ground with a clatter. Now that the deadly weapon was gone, Lucia distanced herself from Deborah. “You…!” Infuriated by Lucia’s escape, she raised her free hand as if to strike Salvador’s face. But suddenly, she screamed and sank to the ground. Confused, Lucia looked at her—and her eyes went wide. The knife was sticking straight out of Deborah’s thigh. “You don’t really need your arms or legs. As long as your heart is beating.” Salvador laughed again and roughly pulled the knife back out. She let out a shrill scream. The pool of blood grew, along with the nauseating smell of rusted iron. “Of course, we’ll have a problem if you wag that tongue of yours during the interrogation. I’d really like to pull it out right now, but the kid’s watching…” Deborah went white and shook her head over and over again like a broken doll. Salvador narrowed his eyes and delivered an icy command. “Make sure she can’t talk by the time she gets to the convent.” Lucia didn’t know when the pair of men had appeared, but they stepped forward and dragged Deborah away. Lucia shivered at the thought of what might happen to Deborah. Noticing her pale, frightened face, Salvador laughed carelessly. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll take you home. You’re still a kid, after all.” She wasn’t sure if she should feel relieved. As she was trying to decide what to do, she heard a muffled voice. “Save me.” It was a child—a boy. She glanced around but saw no one. The man looked at her suspiciously. It seemed he hadn’t heard anything. She wondered for a second if it had been a ghost, but the voice had been so frightened and real. She could almost hear the boy breathing. He must be alive. She didn’t know why, but she felt sure of it. The question was, where was he hiding? He couldn’t be far away. She looked around. He could be in the woods, or— Just then, Lucia remembered that Salvador had been carrying a large burlap bag. A child could easily have fit in that bag. He must be in there. Salvador’s face suddenly tensed. He gave her a curious look, then followed her gaze. When he realized she was looking at the bag in his hand, he smiled wryly. “You’ve got a good nose.” Lucia’s heart pounded. “But now I can’t let you go home. What should I do?” His reddish-gold eyes, the color of the setting sun, darted around pensively. The storm of gunshots fell silent. Randolph, who was surveying his surroundings from behind a pile of junk, took advantage of the lull to tear off a strip of his shirt and tie it tightly around his shoulder. The bullet hadn’t struck near an artery, so the wound wasn’t as bad as it looked. Still, they were unquestionably at a disadvantage. …Not good. That was his conclusion after counting his remaining bullets. He’d taken down a number of opponents, but he didn’t know how many were left. As he caught his breath, his shoulders heaving, he thought about what to do. The problem was, instead of strategies for defeating his opponent, all he could think about was whether or not Constance Grail had escaped safely. For such a timid person, she was principled about the strangest things, unexpectedly stubborn, and so good-hearted that the second he took his eyes off her, she always got herself wrapped up in some new mess. Her expression was constantly changing, but her honest green eyes always stayed the same. Before he knew it, she had brought color to his gray world. Maybe that was why he’d done it. He knew from the start he had no chance of winning. But he had decided to fight anyway because he wanted to stall the enemy, even for a minute. She brought endless complications into his life, but if only she could make it out safe and sound— —Now. He made his decision with the utmost calm. At that very moment, a man rolled across the ground with a low wail, clutching his wrist as his gun skidded over the ground, throwing off blue sparks. This wasn’t a misfire. It was as if a small bolt of lightning had hit his weapon. The gunfire started up again all at once. Countless bullets flew like arrows toward Randolph. “…Scarlett?” he mumbled in a daze. A gust of wind blew past him as if in answer. As if leading a charge, the wind turned back the rain of bullets. Randolph could sense the enemy flinching back in the face of the invisible force. His lips curled up in a wry smile. He’d asked Scarlett to protect Constance. This must’ve been her way of saying she didn’t take orders from anyone. Still— “Thank you.” A path opened up before him. He raised the gun in his hand once more and followed in Scarlett’s wake. Night had fallen. The moon was covered by clouds, and the world was swathed in a deep navy. From a distance, it was impossible to know what was happening. All Connie could hear was the chilling sound of bullets cutting through the air. She watched and waited, praying. Suddenly, everything went silent. It seemed to be over. Her heart pounded. Was Randolph safe? Was Scarlett? “What a ridiculous face you’re making.” The exasperated voice came from directly overhead. Connie sniffed. “Scarlett! You’re s-s-safe!” “Obviously. Who do you think I am? And by the way, Randolph Ulster is alive, too. Which is only natural, since I lent him a hand.” Connie hastily looked over her shoulder. If she squinted, she could make out a silhouette slowly approaching. It was indeed Randolph. He seemed to be walking steadily, but he was pressing a hand to his slumped left shoulder. When she realized who it was, she leapt to her feet and rushed toward him. “Your Excellency! You’re wounded!” Panting, she threw herself at his large form. He looked down at her with a vacant expression. “Your Excellency?” “…You didn’t escape?” She blinked. “I thought I told you to escape.” It sounded vaguely like an accusation. She blinked again, slowly—then suddenly narrowed her green eyes. “……You!” Her voice was low, like she’d wrung it from the back of her throat. She felt a thread snap somewhere inside her. “You utter boor…! You really thought I would leave you like that?! What were you thinking, leaping into battle all by yourself?!” Even harebrained, naive Connie knew that had been tantamount to suicide. He hadn’t glanced back even once as he flew into the hurricane of bullets. She truly thought she would have a heart attack. Maybe she was a burden. But that couldn’t have been the best strategy. There must have been plenty of other options. There must have been a way for them both to make it out alive. But even as she yelled at him with all her might, he simply stood there with his mouth hanging open, confusion on his face. His obliviousness only made her angrier. Connie raised her fists and beat them as hard as she could against his chest. “It’s…it’s so maddening! Your Excellency…Boor Excellency…!” His muscular chest was harder than she’d expected, and her tender maiden’s fists, unused to such exertion, soon began to ache. She frowned, and he backed away, flustered, before giving her a puzzled look. “Boor Excellency…?” “Yes, you’re being a boor, so I called you Boor Excellency! Do you have a problem with that?!” She glared at him. His cerulean eyes grew round with confusion and shock. After a second, very quietly, he burst out laughing. Connie gasped. “Why would you laugh at a moment like this…?” Randolph lowered his brows in consternation. “Why are you…crying?” She hadn’t even realized tears were spilling from her eyes. Huge droplets flowed down her cheeks. “…Because I was terrified!” “That’s why I told you to escape!” She couldn’t ignore his I-told-you-so tone. She jerked her chin up and snapped, “No!” Of course she had been afraid of the flying bullets, but even more than that— “I was afraid you were going to die! How foolish are you?! Boor Excellency! You huge, foolish boor…!” Her voice was shaking. She couldn’t breathe right, and she was sobbing convulsively. She wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand, her shoulders heaving. As she rubbed fiercely at her eyes, Randolph gently took her hand, stopping her. “I was scared, too.” His voice was calm. “I thought I was going to lose you.” She looked up slowly. “We’re just the same, Connie.” Randolph Ulster gently narrowed his eyes, blue as a cloudless sky, and gazed at her. Surprised—shocked, really—Connie stopped crying and stared at him, her eyes wide. What was this? “…I-if you think I’ll forgive everything just because you laughed, you’re wrong…!” she squeaked, refusing to admit defeat. Randolph’s shoulders shook with poorly suppressed laughter. Connie felt her heart contract; she didn’t know what to do. She glanced around uncertainly. His voice halting, Randolph said, “…If you can forgive me…” His voice was so quiet, she had to strain her ears to hear him. “If you can forgive me, I’d like to spend the rest of my life with you.” Without her noticing, the moon had moved out from behind the clouds. Pale white light poured down from the sky, gently illuminating the world below. Connie took a long breath, then let it out. “In that case, I forgive you.”