Chapter 44

The words slipped easily from her mouth. Tinted by the moonlight, those cerulean eyes wavered with emotion. “I forgive you. Even if the king doesn’t, or the kingdom, or your great-uncle, or anyone else. Even if the gods don’t forgive you, I forgive you for everything. So you don’t need to worry about anything at all.” I’m being so bold, she thought, Scarlett Castiel herself wouldn’t have dared make such a declaration. But it was the truth, and there was nothing she could do about that. No matter what anyone else said, Connie forgave him. Of course she forgave him. If it would make this absurdly awkward man happy, Constance Grail would challenge the goddesses to a fistfight. “And if anyone says anything bad about you…” “…Yes?” Connie held up her palm and grinned. “Then I’ll slap them!” she announced boldly. Randolph’s eyes widened in surprise. Then he burst out laughing. “Sometimes you say the craziest things.” “Sorry… I-it’s a bad habit of mine…” She knew what she had said was shameless. As she unconsciously shrank back, Randolph looked at her as if she were as bright as the sun. “Try not to push yourself so hard… It’s far too charming.” With the burlap bag still over his shoulder, the kidnapper led Lucia to a covered wagon tied up behind the abandoned house. “A little present for you, Shoshanna.” As he said this, Salvador pushed aside the canvas cloth hanging at the entrance to the wagon and tossed the burlap bag to the girl sitting inside. Shoshanna, as he’d called her, looked over her shoulder in surprise at the dull thud. She looked a few years older than Lucia, with clear, even features and silver hair that fell straight as an arrow to her waist. Her large eyes were the color of garnets. When she noticed Lucia standing with her hand still in Salvador’s, she frowned. “There’s m-more of them…?!” she squealed. Salvador tried to smooth it over with that careless laugh of his. “Um, well, when it comes to pets, the more the merrier, right?” The silver-haired girl looked back and forth between the bag and Lucia, then hung her head and wailed. “You mean I’m supposed to take care of her, too…? I knew it… I just knew it…!” The two of them seemed very familiar. They didn’t look alike, but Lucia thought they might be siblings. Just then, the burlap bag started to wriggle. Lucia stepped away from Salvador and untied the string around the mouth of the bag. A handsome little boy crawled out. She was sure he was the one who had cried for help earlier. She breathed a sigh of relief. He was alive—although horribly pale and dressed in rags. But he was alive. She smiled kindly as she watched him tense his body warily and look around. “Pleased to meet you. My name is Lucia O’Brian. What’s your name?” she asked, stooping down to his level. A glimmer of light returned to his gloomy eyes. So he’s still all right, she thought. His heart hasn’t died yet. His violet eyes slowly focused on Lucia. “Ulysses.” Lucia O’Brian was missing. Deborah Darkian was named a prime suspect based on Leticia’s testimony and was eventually found, severely injured, in front of the convent where she was supposed to be held. They said she was not in a state to talk. She was receiving treatment, but so far, an interview was out of the question. Abigail had been working around the clock to find Lucia. Maximilian, whose daughter Lucia had saved, said he would do anything to help. But they could find no clues. San and Eularia were busy with another matter. Perhaps for related reasons, Ambassador Kendall Levine was planning to leave Adelbide soon and return to Faris. Ulysses’s whereabouts were still unknown. Currently, several members of Randolph’s unit were investigating Kiara Grafton, but she wouldn’t talk. She had nearly died once and seemed afraid of Daeg Gallus’s vengeance. Plus, even if she did talk, she was unlikely to know the prince’s new location. The only clue they had so far concerned the explosive used on the wharf. The black gunpowder was from Melvina. Melvina had some of the few saltpeter mines on the continent, but because of tariff conflicts and Melvina’s own restrictions, Adelbide didn’t allow the import of saltpeter or any weapons made with it. A connection with Melvina suggested the weapon had come from the Luze domain, overseen by Cecilia’s birth family. The domain shared a border with Melvina, and more importantly, the Viscountess Luze came from an upper-class Melvinan family. Evidence of smuggling was piling up, and the Security Force planned to summon the Luzes to the capital within the next few days. However… “The king is going to Melvina?” Connie asked, confused. Randolph nodded. “Yes. Apparently, he plans to negotiate a new treaty in exchange for dropping the current smuggling allegations. I’m guessing they’ll lower the tariffs and loosen the restrictions on saltpeter and firearms. They’ve been talking about it for years, but this is a big step forward in negotiations.” The exact schedule hadn’t been announced yet, but word was King Ernst would depart soon for Melvina. It was being called a goodwill mission, but apparently the real aim was to finalize a treaty. Duran Belsford, commandant of the Security Force, was to oversee security. “Removing the restrictions on importing weapons will serve as a check on Faris, too.” One of the reasons the hawkish faction in Faris supported war was the country’s buddy-buddy relationship with Melvina. Faris was importing large amounts of explosives and gunpowder while requesting limits on those exports to Adelbide, thus reducing their military power. But if the king’s visit led to a new trade treaty between Adelbide and Melvina, Faris would no longer have the advantage. However much the hawks pushed for war, any decision would require serious debate. Randolph’s explanation put Connie’s mind at ease. “A little noble girl? No, I haven’t seen anyone like that.” This shop, too, turned up no clues. Connie sighed as she continued down busy Anastasia Street. She had learned that Lucia was missing as soon as she returned from the Grafton domain. When she thought about how such a young girl must feel in that situation, she couldn’t bear to sit at home doing nothing. Lucia wasn’t the only one she was worried about. Leticia Castiel had said, eyes puffy and red, “It’s my fault Lucia was kidnapped.” Connie heard she’d tried to run away from home multiple times, only to be caught and returned. She was blaming herself mercilessly, and Connie felt bad for her. It upset her to see such a little girl looking so haggard, so Connie had made her a promise. No matter what, I’ll save Lucia. Leticia said she and Lucia had encountered Deborah in an alley off Anastasia Street. The Security Force had already investigated, but Connie came anyway, hoping to find something they’d overlooked. So far, she hadn’t found anything. She was walking along, feeling ashamed, when someone called her name. “Constance Grail?” She turned around and gasped. “Pamela…?” It was Pamela Francis, the girl who had set her up at the Grand Merillian and been taken down in turn by Scarlett. She looked quite different now. Her pale golden hair had lost its luster, and her cheeks were hollow. Dark, sunken bags hung under her eyes. Although Connie could still detect a shadow of her charming former self, the transformation was chilling. “It’s been a while,” she said. Her fathomless smile looked as if it had been cut straight out of some portrait. “You look the same, just as you did that night. I’m sure of it. After all, I dream of that ball every time I fall asleep… What about me? I’ve changed a little, haven’t I?” Connie stood frozen in place, and Pamela stared at her, spellbound. After a moment, she continued in a whisper. “Actually, I saw you a few days ago. At a warehouse on a wharf in the Grafton domain.” Connie’s shoulders gave a jolt. “I—I think you must be mistaken…” “Do you? Oh, and I heard there was a gunfight. Some people died. Troubling, isn’t it? Were you there, by chance?” “I t-told you, you must be mistaken—” “Is that so?” Her bloodshot eyes rolled in Connie’s direction as she curled her chapped lips into a twisted smile. A shiver ran down Connie’s back. “Then never mind,” she said, looking awfully satisfied. “Good-bye. See you again.” In the royal bedroom at Elbaite Palace, Cecilia bore down on Enrique. “…What do you mean?” Her voice was edged with irritation. “You’ve never said a word about signing a treaty with Melvina before.” For the past several days, Cecilia had been absorbed in responding to the scandal in the Luze domain. The secret smuggling of saltpeter from Melvina had been exposed. Fortunately, the only person arrested was a mere pawn who could offer little in the way of information or evidence. There wasn’t much chance the investigation would reach Cecilia, but it had distracted her enough that she had failed to notice disquieting developments at the palace. By the time she received a report, King Ernst had already left the country. “How strange,” Enrique interrupted calmly, his delicate, feminine face blank. “I can’t imagine why you’re so upset over something like opening up trade with Melvina.” But despite the softness of his voice, his magenta eyes watched her unwaveringly. Finally, it dawned on her what was going on. “…How long have you known?” As far as she could tell, it was around the time she’d poisoned the colleague who had kidnapped Kate Lorraine that he’d grown obviously distant. She’d known he had questions about her identity, but she hadn’t thought he had any evidence. So when had he figured it out? Unsurprisingly, he answered in the same calm tone. “Why do you think I went against everyone around me to marry you? Why do you think my father and Duke Castiel accepted our marriage?” Ten years ago, Cecilia’s assignment had been to win the love of the bothersome crown prince and manipulate him from the shadows. It had not been to marry him and become crown princess. But in the end, that had been his wish. She hadn’t rejected the proposal, in part because doing so would have been difficult for someone of such low rank, but also because she hadn’t taken seriously the possibility that the marriage would be permitted. But it had been permitted. Until now, she had never thought to wonder why. “…Don’t tell me you knew from the start.” Then why—she began to ask, only for the words to catch in her throat. It’d all been for this moment. To get close to Cecilia, a member of Daeg Gallus, and put a stop to their plans. In other words, he’d used her—and the Luze domain. “I did indeed. I was so devoted to you, you see. Who would question a husband who looked into the activities of his beloved wife, or visited her hometown? I know all about what you and your people were doing in the Luze domain.” He had always been a simple man. She had been able to trick him because he was simple. He had believed Scarlett betrayed him because he was simple. He had never questioned his sense of justice because he was simple. And later, when he realized his mistake, he had regretted it. Cecilia had always thought him a careless, stupid man. “…And what will you do now?” “You oversaw the smuggling in the Luze domain, didn’t you? We have evidence. And in this kingdom, criminals are punished.” “…If this becomes public, you may be suspected of criminal activity yourself.” If the crimes of the crown princess were exposed, her husband would no doubt be made to take some responsibility. “Didn’t you know?” he asked, his smile vanishing at last. “I’ve been a criminal for a very long time.” He reached for the water pitcher and slowly poured himself a glass. He brought it to his lips and drank it down. Cecilia looked down and sighed. “Enrique.” She had spent ten years of her life with this man, however warped their relationship had been. He looked at her with a puzzled expression. So it was as she’d always thought. “It seems you are a careless man after all.” The next instant, he began to cough violently. The blood drained from his face, and he began to wheeze. Cecilia looked down on him, blank-faced, and drew a deep breath. “Somebody, help! Enrique is having an attack!” The maids who had been waiting outside the room rushed in. When they saw Enrique gasping on the ground, they ran back out to call the royal doctor. Cecilia took advantage of the sudden commotion to leave the villa. She went to the office of the comptroller-general. When Simon Darkian was imprisoned, all his high-level colleagues had resigned, leaving his lowly assistant, Rufus May, to leap into the position of vice-comptroller-general. Since Comptroller-General Colbert was currently undergoing treatment for an illness, Rufus was, in practice, in charge of the organization. “You didn’t kill him?” Rufus asked in a tone that might be read as critical. Having dismissed everyone else in the office, he was now reclining in an armchair with an attitude so relaxed, one would have thought he had always held this position. Cecilia shrugged. The substance she’d added to the pitcher wasn’t poison. “Whatever else he is, he’s still the crown prince. We’ll have an easier time of it with him alive. If you’ve received a report, then you probably know what condition he’s in. He won’t be up and about for quite a while, let alone acting as king in Ernst’s stead. Just as you wished.” “Oh, I have no complaints. If he’d died, that would have been a problem all its own.” Rufus—that is, Krishna of Daeg Gallus—rested his chin in his hand and observed Cecilia with narrowed eyes. “But you let that redheaded reporter go, too. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” “Is there some problem?” she answered coldly. Krishna turned his lips up into a crescent shape. But his eyes weren’t smiling. “No. But I’m concerned. Neither you nor Salvador have officially sworn allegiance to the organization. Salvador isn’t so hard to understand. But you, Cess—” He paused. His silver-blue eyes surveyed Cecilia mockingly. “You, I think, were just a little girl after a target for your rage.” Cecilia didn’t answer. She didn’t feel the need to. Krishna could hardly have expected one from her. Paying no attention to her reaction, he continued. “Let’s return to the problem at hand. It will certainly be annoying if they sign a treaty with Melvina, but the situation does have some advantages. Ernst and Duran Belford are both away. Adolphus Castiel is a pain, but most likely he’ll be busy taking care of Enrique. And Kendall Levine has returned to Faris.” Krishna grinned. “If we’re going to do it, now is the time.” Cecilia was not surprised by his words. She knew they were out of time. She nodded and turned to leave so she could begin preparations. “Oh, I almost forgot,” Krishna muttered as she put her hand on the door. “First, we’d better take care of anyone who might get in the way. Just to be safe, you know.” His voice was chillingly sadistic. The kidnapping of Prince Ulysses was made public several days after King Ernst left for Melvina. The king’s party had already crossed the border. Even the fastest horse would take several days to reach him with the message, and he would need another few days to return to Adelbide. The criminal group behind the kidnapping was said to be a domestic extremist organization bent on destroying the alliance with Faris. Outraged that the safety of the young prince was in jeopardy, Faris was ready to declare war. To the innocent public, it was like lightning from a clear sky. Adelbide was as unsteady as a rowboat out to sea in a ferocious storm. Day after day, the tabloids were filled with news of the crisis. Connie let out a slow breath. So this is how it happens, she thought. She had never imagined it would play out like this. “Scarlett, I forbid you to touch them!” she said, reining in her accomplice, who was staring at the intruders as if trying to curse them to death with her eyes. “If you lash out now, they’ll hit back. We don’t want Layli and the others to be hurt.” Anger flashed in Scarlett’s beautiful eyes for an instant before she bit her lip and stepped back. They could hear sweet little Layli shouting something in the distance. The head maid, Marta, was desperately restraining him as he tried to run toward Connie, just as Connie had asked her to. It was the same request she’d made of Scarlett. They were not to resist. But Marta’s face was white as a sheet as she hugged Layli to her chest, and her whole body, which seemed large enough to take on a bear, was shaking with rage. Everyone was. All the servants in the Grail residence were terrified for Connie’s sake, their faces openly hostile. Her heart hurt seeing them. “Constance Grail?” The man who’d burst into the Grail residence along with his unit introduced himself as Jeorg Gaina. He had narrow eyes the color of a cloudy sky and thin lips. His sandy hair was plastered back from his forehead. He looked somewhat older than Randolph. He pulled a warrant from his breast pocket and smiled as if he couldn’t contain his amusement. “I am arresting you for the crime of aiding and abetting the kidnapping of Ulysses Faris.” “It was quite a coincidence. Until just recently, I was unwell, but I’ve been much better lately. I went to the Grafton domain on the recommendation of my doctor. It’s by the seashore, you know. I simply love the sea. At the wharf, I became separated from my maid… Yes, I’m certain it was Constance Grail. I wouldn’t mistake a childhood friend. She was stuffing a child into a carriage in a terrible hurry, and the child was wailing and sobbing. I tried calling out to her, but just then the gunfight started. It was so frightening, I ran away. But that child. When I think back on it, I’m certain it was Prince Ulysses.” The girl with the silver-white hair let out a high-pitched peal of laughter. The middle-aged detective questioning her continued in a serious tone. “You said there was a gunfight. Did Constance Grail fire back?” “No. It was the man she was with. I didn’t get a good look at his face, but she’s engaged to a lieutenant commander in the Security Force, isn’t she? I’m not certain, but I think it was him. He looked like he was used to handling a gun.” She laughed again. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so instead of returning to my domain, I came to the capital to find Constance and ask her myself. She got terribly flustered and insisted I must have mistaken her for someone else. My maids were nearby. You can ask them—they’ll tell you I’m not lying. But to think, the sincere Miss Grail telling a lie… I’m certain something frightening must be going on. That’s why I decided to come forward with my testimony.” “The good-for-nothing weasel!” Kyle Hughes muttered, scratching his head. The situation was completely unfair. Pamela Francis had appeared out of nowhere, and there were no obvious inconsistencies in her testimony. It was true that Constance Grail and her fiancé Randolph had gone to the Grafton domain. It was also undeniable that an explosion and a gunfight had taken place there. Dead bodies had been found at the site. According to Jeorg Gaina, they were probably informants hired by Faris to search for Prince Ulysses. Obviously, that was hogwash, but the dead don’t talk. True, the corpses in this case all belonged to worthless hooligans, who could easily have been informants connected to the underworld. Kyle had worked with Morie in the Alchemy Division to examine them down to the location of their moles, but he hadn’t found the signature sun tattoo of Daeg Gallus. They were probably disposable mercenaries. The galling thing was, Randolph had also been taken into custody based on Pamela Francis’s testimony. He was still only a key witness, but depending on the outcome of Constance Grail’s interrogation, he could be imprisoned. Kyle pounded the stained wall, and it reverberated with a dull thud. He bit his lip hard, then turned to his subordinates, who were practically catatonic with disbelief. “We’re going to find Ulysses!” he growled. That was their only way out. After being brought in by Jeorg Gaina, Connie was questioned in a room in the Security Force headquarters. Gaina was conducting the interrogation, and a secretary sat in one corner taking down Connie’s answers. “Where is the prince now?” “…I don’t know. I didn’t kidnap him.” “That’s what all the criminals say. Or did Randolph Ulster put you up to it? We already have Pamela Francis’s testimony. She said he pulled his gun.” Connie gaped at him and shook her head. He snorted in amusement. That was when she realized. This is a farce. Right now, Randolph was probably being questioned as well. That would delay the search for Ulysses, making war even more inevitable. The enemy already knew everything when they set this up. It was pointless to be sincere and tell them the truth. It would only be a waste of time. Then what should she do? Think! You must not give up! There is always a way. Never mind herself—she couldn’t let them pin down Randolph. Oh, now there’s an idea! Connie slowly lifted her head. There was just one thing she could do. “Earl Ulster knows nothing. It was someone else,” she said decisively. Jeorg Gaina frowned slightly, as if he didn’t know what this slip of a girl was up to. His reaction confirmed her suspicions—he was probably involved in Daeg Gallus. Their goal was to buy time. They were trying to immobilize anyone who might get in the way of their plan. Connie squeezed her shaking fingers and smiled to hide the fear welling up inside her. Sincerity be damned. “I separated from the earl at the wharf. After that, I met with my accomplice. I’m certain he was the one Pamela saw.” “Connie!” Scarlett exclaimed, her eyes wide with disbelief. “What are you saying…?!” Her face was turning pale—an unusual sight. Connie squeezed her hand into a fist and kept talking. “Yes, that’s right. I helped kidnap Prince Ulysses. But Earl Ulster had nothing to do with it. I had support from other quarters. An enormous, cruel criminal organization that would not hesitate to kill to achieve its aims.” If the enemy wanted to stall by interrogating Connie and Randolph, then she might as well confess. “…What are you saying?” “I think you know. I made my first move at Viscount Hamsworth’s ball at the Grand Merillian. Earl Ulster wasn’t there that night.” “Connie, you fool! You insufferable fool!” Scarlett cried, her voice shaking as tears pooled in her eyes. I’m sorry, Scarlett. I really am, Connie whispered over and over in her heart. “The name of the organization is Daeg Gallus.” A white-faced Jeorg Gaina was shaking his head from side to side. Serves you right! Connie thought. She turned to the openmouthed secretary with a smile. “Did you write that down? Yes? Then you must know what to do next. The suspect confessed to the crime. If I were you, the first thing I’d do would be to release Randolph Ulster.” Connie found herself in a detention cell with a cold draft. After the interrogation, Jeorg Gaina had roughly grabbed her arm and thrown her inside. The only thing behind the iron bars with Connie was a worn-out blanket. After Gaina, still agitated, disappeared, Connie sat rubbing the red spot on her arm. Scarlett glanced around and snorted with dissatisfaction. Then she fell silent. She was apparently quite furious. Connie leaned against the cold wall and pressed her forehead to her knees. After a while, the iron door opened with a rusty creak. “This place hasn’t changed at all.” In walked Viscount Hamsworth, his barrel-shaped body shaking like pudding. “I was here once ten years ago. I came to see Scarlett Castiel.” Connie slowly looked up and gave Scarlett a questioning glance. She was looking the other way, as if to say she had nothing to do with any of this. “Still, I’m surprised,” Hamsworth said with an incongruously bright smile. “To think that you of all people would call for a clergyman.” The teachings of the church permitted prisoners to beg forgiveness of the gods. The Security Forces were not able to refuse a request to see a priest. Connie had asked to see Hamsworth right after Gaina finished interrogating her. “Although I can hardly imagine you called me here to repent.” In response to the viscount’s mischievous wink, Connie offered a quiet smile. “What in the world are you up to?!” When she saw Randolph come rushing to her cell all out of breath, she felt overwhelming relief. If he was here, that meant he must have been released unharmed. “And I don’t just mean the crazy story you told Gaina! Hamsworth, too…!” It seemed that Ham moved faster than his ponderous size might suggest. Just as Connie was thinking how impressive that was, a low, threatening voice interrupted her. “You’re abandoning me?” The expression on Randolph’s face reminded her of a lost little boy. She gave a small, strained smile. Needless to say, she hadn’t called for Hamsworth in order to confess. She’d called him to break off her engagement to Randolph. The viscount agreed with surprising ease. She knew it was a selfish thing to do, but she didn’t regret it. She was sure he would have never done it himself. That would have been a problem. As long as he had a connection to someone involved in the prince’s kidnapping, he would be barred from continuing his investigation of the matter. And that was just what the enemy wanted. She’d always been a burden to him, but this was one thing she could do to help. She wasn’t giving up. Not too long ago, she probably would have. But she was different now. She had confidence in other people—enough confidence to leave the rest to them. It wasn’t just Randolph. She had friends who at this very moment were doing their utmost to solve the mystery. She trusted that they would rescue Ulysses and Lucia. That they would preserve the future of the kingdom. “…What will you do?” Randolph asked. “Who’s going to marry a girl who’s broken off two previous engagements?” He was at a loss. His eyes, as blue as the sea on a sunny day, wavered. The blue was so clear, she felt she was falling into it— So deep, it took her breath away. She gazed quietly into his eyes. “If,” she whispered. “If, when everything is over, there comes a day when we can all laugh together again, there’s one person I’m going to seek out. Someone very strong and kind, and always just. Someone who, despite all that, thinks he doesn’t have the right to make another person happy. What a fool he is! So next time, I’ll be the one to go to him and take his hand.” “…That won’t be easy.” She froze in the face of this flat rejection. But then, hesitantly, Randolph held out his arms. “Because I’m certain,” he whispered, nearly inaudible, “that before you can do that, someone will ask you to marry him. Someone with no domain, who never manages to be clever, and always chooses the worst places for dates—yes, that horribly dull man will beat you to it.” Connie stared at him wide-eyed for a second, then broke into a grin. She took the hand he’d extended and pressed it to her cheek. His knobby fingers were surprisingly hot. Tears spilled from her eyes when she blinked. Before they could travel down her cheek, a rough, dry finger wiped them away. Randolph looked down at her and frowned, a troubled expression on his face. Ah, Connie thought. I love this man. She gave him a watery smile, but the crease between his brows only deepened. He looked frightening, but endearing at the same time. As she looked up, the masculine, angry-looking face moved closer to hers. For a second, a shadow fell over her. Before she could register surprise, his warm lips brushed her forehead. “…My forehead?” she asked, blinking in confusion. “…Well, you’re not my fiancée at the moment,” he replied, and she couldn’t help smiling at the dissatisfaction in his voice. Then, for a little while, she cried. The next day, Scarlett disappeared. After visiting his older brother, Enrique, in his sickbed, Johan sighed inwardly. Although Enrique’s condition had stabilized, it was still unclear if he would pull through. Just when the king was away, a prince from neighboring Faris had been kidnapped. It was totally unprecedented. Normally, Enrique would have handled the response, but right now he was tottering between life and death—hardly capable of weathering the storm. Until now, Johan had occupied the relatively easy position of second prince. But for the past several days, he’d had the overwhelming task of serving in the king’s stead. Duke Castiel, ordinarily a reliable pillar of support, was nowhere to be seen. Presumably, he was busy taking care of Enrique. Enrique’s collapse had been attributed to a worsening of his chronic asthma, but that wasn’t the truth. According to Adolphus, someone had cleverly set him up. He hadn’t been poisoned, but rather given an ordinary painkiller. That was why the royal taster hadn’t detected any problem. But this particular painkiller, extracted from willow bark, had induced asthma attacks in the prince ever since he was a boy. “Prince Johan, may I speak with you?” “…Is that you, Rufus?” Johan had pushed aside his stack of papers and was taking a moment to massage his temples when the very source of his recent headaches stepped into his office. Rufus May, vice-comptroller-general. As far as Johan could remember, May had always blended into the woodwork, but ever since he took over Simon’s position, he was like a fish skillfully navigating the raging seas of state. “Faris wants war. They have their honor to consider, after all. We need to show them what we’re capable of if we want them to back down,” Rufus said, placing on the desk the same draft decision he’d brought to Johan a few days earlier. The memory of how he’d dismissed the ridiculous document out of hand was still fresh in Johan’s mind. “Constance Grail has confessed to her crime. All that remains is for you to make a decision.” “…I read the report, and it seems the girl was only an accessory. Doesn’t that mean the real culprit is still on the loose? The one from that organization, whatever it was called. It’s too early for me to make a decision. If it’s unavoidable, I’d prefer to consult Duke Castiel first—” His words were interrupted by the clatter of something being set on the desk in front of him. He looked down. It was an exquisite hair ornament. He knew it well. He had ordered a craftsman to make the clip, fashioned from pearl-encrusted coral, for his daughter’s third birthday. She adored it and wore it nearly every day. Or so he thought— The blood drained from his face. “Where the hell did you get that…?” “Your daughter’s nurse is called Hannah, I believe? Oh, don’t worry, we haven’t harmed a hair on either of their heads. Not yet, that is.” Johan was speechless. “Your Highness,” Rufus May continued in a kind voice. “Would you like to hold your darling daughter in your arms again?” Goose bumps rose on Johan’s skin. “You will; of course you will. But as for whether her little body is warm or cold, that depends on you. It’s not a difficult decision, is it? The girl is only a viscount’s daughter, after all.” “…You lowlife,” Johan spat out contemptuously. But Rufus’s smile remained placid. Johan glanced up at the ceiling as if to seek salvation, then, with a shaking hand, he picked up the royal seal. That day, special editions of the papers were published in Alslain, the capital of Adelbide. A sentence had been handed down to the viscount’s daughter currently imprisoned for her involvement in the kidnapping of the seventh prince of Faris. All the articles were unanimous in their assessment. Even given the need to appease their neighbor, the lightning-speed decision screamed “scapegoat.” The sentence, handed down by royal order… …would be the first public execution in a decade.