Chapter 52

Shoshanna flinched. “When I was hit, you brought me ice, and you chased away that violent guard.” “But that…” Shoshanna’s stern expression was quickly melting into confusion. “I’m not so rude I wouldn’t thank you for that.” Lucia’s lips curled into an easygoing smile. It wasn’t simply a kind smile—it showed her resolve. “So make your escape. But please don’t forget this. Any crime you commit from this moment on is also a crime committed by Lucia O’Brian.” “It’s time.” Connie opened her eyes and slowly stood. Her plain gray shift had been made specially for the occasion. As she left her cell, the guard quietly handed her a cup filled with crimson liquid. She immediately tensed. Could there be poison in the drink? As she hesitated, a dull voice said from behind, “It’s only juice.” She turned to find a familiar figure. Today, however, his barrel-shaped form was clad in white ceremonial robes. “…Viscount Hamsworth?” “Our mutual friend instructed me not to make you drink anything strange,” the viscount whispered so the guard wouldn’t hear. Then he giggled. Connie gave him a questioning look. Our mutual friend? For now, however, she decided to take him at his word. The portly priest was more sullied than most in his profession, but as far as she knew, he wasn’t a bad person. No sooner had she drunk down the juice than the guard fastened manacles on her wrists. Together with her executioners, she was led to a wagon and loaded in. As the gate leading from Moldavite Palace to the square was unlocked, an angry roar erupted. It grew louder as she stepped down from the wagon. Just like ten years ago, she thought. She glanced up at the sky. It was covered by damp, leaden clouds. Even that was the same as ten years ago. But I’ll never be able to handle this like she did. She silenced the crowd with her overpowering beauty and nobility. With this plain old face of mine, I couldn’t do that if I turned myself inside out. Connie smiled wryly, took a deep breath, and began walking. “Traitor!” someone screamed as she walked toward the executioner’s platform. “Beast!” “Demon!” “Where did you hide the prince?” Jeers flew at her. She bit her lip. Just then, a loud voice echoed across the square. “What an infernal racket! This is why I hate snot-nosed, hairless brats! Do you need a taste of my whip?” A procession of young women dressed like they were going to a ball filed into the square, led by a neatly outfitted matron, her back straight as a rod. The crowd fell silent at their otherworldly splendidness, stepping back to make way. “Audrey has such a foul mouth.” “What a fool you are, Miriam. Everything about her is foul, including her character.” The elegant women bantered and giggled. Within minutes, men, women, and even little children were gazing at them, spellbound. Connie’s mouth fell open. As she was staring at them in shock, a new voice entered the square from another direction. “Constance Grail is innocent!” Unfortunately, she could not make out its owner among the crush of spectators. “Fine, everyone gets a little stubborn and out of hand now and then. But Constance Grail doesn’t have a bad hair on her head! If ever a person is in trouble, she will come to their aid without a moment’s hesitation! Yet they accuse her of kidnapping a child? She would never do such a thing! You’re fools, every last one of you…!” Nevertheless, there was no mistaking that voice. It was Kate. Her ever-smiling, gentle friend was shouting in indignation. “It’s true! I have testimony from a girl who was friends with Pamela Francis! Those of you who want to know the details, it’s all right here in the special edition! Come and get your copy!” The slightly cheeky voice must belong to Mylene. Only moments ago, the crowd was fired up like a group of bullies ready to tear the wings off an insect, but now the cruel, agitated atmosphere had been replaced by a buzz of doubtful voices. The breeze of public opinion was shifting unexpectedly in the square. Connie blinked. What in the world was going on? Drops of rain began to fall from the sagging blanket of clouds. Soon, the drops became a downpour battering the ground. Suddenly, everyone was looking at Connie. They were all waiting for her to speak. Although she felt delirious, she opened her mouth to try to meet their expectation. But the next instant, someone kicked her violently in the back, and she collapsed to the ground. Ruthless hands yanked her hair, forcing her to her knees. “Constance Grail!” The man shouting her name belonged to the Royal Security Force. She recognized him—Jeorg Gaina, the one who had interrogated her over the kidnapping. “You will now be beheaded for the crime of kidnapping the prince of the neighboring kingdom and planning to overthrow the government!” The executioner standing at his side lifted his sword high above his head. Without a moment’s pause, the blade whooshed through the air. Screams erupted in the crowd. Connie squeezed her eyes shut. To hell with regrets! Connie heard a groan above her head, followed by the sound of metal hitting something hard. The blow did not come. She cautiously opened her eyes. The executioner was crouching beside her. For some reason, a knife was sticking out of his wrist, and blood was dripping onto the ground. His sword lay beside his feet. “No more!” Connie’s heart skipped a beat at the deep voice. She looked up and saw black hair and cerulean eyes. There he was—the man with the frightening face. The most awkward man in the world, and the kindest. “This execution is invalid!” he screamed, though his breath was short and his forehead beaded with sweat. “If you want the prince, he’s right here!” Connie glanced over and saw a large woman with a messy ponytail the color of the sun standing by Randolph. It was San. In her arms was a boy whose violet eyes sparkled like jewels—most likely Prince Ulysses. San set the boy down on the ground. He was young, but his face looked intelligent. Though he seemed exhausted, his voice did not waver as he spoke. “I was kidnapped by men from my homeland, Faris! This woman had nothing to do with it!” A stir went through the crowd, spreading ripples of confusion. “Nonsense,” Gaina howled in obvious panic. “Who could believe that? And you—the woman over there. I know who you are!” He pointed at San. “You called yourself San, but—” Gaina’s face distorted hideously as he raised his voice to a shriek. “There is no San among the supporters of the third princess of Faris!” Several days before Constance Grail was to be executed, a sudden development struck the villa on the west grounds of the Royal Palace of Faris, once inhabited by Queen Anna, like a bolt from the blue. “…What do you mean?” Roderick asked angrily, trying to shake off the confusion that had welled up when the chamberlain brought the message. “Ernst has come to Faris?” The chamberlain informed him that the king had come with the smallest retinue of guards possible, evidently trying to avoid notice. Apparently, he claimed to have come to visit King Hendrick, saying the two had been friends since before Hendrick ascended to the throne. “Friends? What a joke. They’ve only met a handful of times! Anyhow, isn’t he supposed to be in Melvina right now?!” “N-no, actually, it seems Duke Castiel is the one who went to Melvina—” “The old fox…! What the hell is he up to?” The prince did not hide his displeasure. But quickly, he changed his mind and smiled. “On second thought, this could work in our favor. He may be king, but that doesn’t give him the right to enter a foreign country without a formal invitation. Who could be blamed for calling it an invasion? Of course, we’ll ask him to leave most courteously, but we might as well get a few favors in return.” The timing of the king’s visit was irritating, but it could serve as a good excuse for pushing forward preparations for war. After all, Theophilis would be out of the way soon. That hopelessly negligent man had left the night before to visit a shrine, intending to lay the groundwork for his impending accession to the throne. Little did he know the trip was a slyly laid trap. Theophilis would not return to the palace alive. A cruel smile played over the finely featured face Roderick had inherited from his mother. He turned to the chamberlain and ordered him to help prepare for a meeting with Ernst. But the white-faced chamberlain did not budge. “What’s wrong, man?” “About th-the invitation. He said he received one…” “What are you talking about?” “King Ernst said he was invited here by the third princess.” “Bluff right back?” Randolph echoed the words of the visitor from Faris. He had asked what she talked to His Highness about, and she had answered, of all things, that the conversation was about bluffing. Naturally, he was skeptical. “That’s right. To be honest, I wanted King Ernst’s support. But it’s like Deputy Hughes said just now. We’ve got a lot going against us. The king would be hard-pressed to say yes. If anything went wrong, it could spark war.” Kyle nodded firmly. “So in the end, I didn’t say much,” San continued. “I only asked him to visit King Hendrick on his sickbed.” Something about her words didn’t sit right with Randolph. She must have sensed that, because she smiled and said, “It’s true. I brought a letter from Alexandra. I was planning to visit Adelbide even before Uly was kidnapped.” “A letter…?” “Yes. King Ernst is a good man. He was kind enough to tell me that while he couldn’t do much for the third princess, he could pay his friend a visit.” She couldn’t mean King Hendrick, could she? Randolph had no recollection of the two kings being friends. Kyle must have been thinking the same thing, because he eyed her suspiciously. “Wait just a second now,” he said. “You’re telling me that Duke Castiel went to Melvina in the king’s place merely so the king could visit a sick acquaintance?” “Oh, that was just a coincidence.” “…What?” “The duke happened to be there when the king granted me an audience. The king and the duke are close, no? The duke suggested that since the king was already preparing to go to Melvina, he could simply change his destination. And the duke could go to Melvina in his place.” San smiled like a naughty child at the two confused investigators. “That’s the whole story. As for how Roderick and Daeg Gallus interpret it—well, that’s another matter entirely.” “…You say Alexandra issued the invitation to King Ernst?” It was unthinkable. Roderick laughed off the chamberlain’s ridiculous claim. She was locked up in a cell in a tower on the castle grounds, unable to do anything. Even if she’d paid off the guards, it should have been impossible to act so boldly. “Yes. There’s no mistake about it. King Ernst had the official letter with him, signed by Lady Alexandra. And, well, he has already been admitted to the palace as a guest of honor—” Blood rushed to Roderick’s head. “On whose orders?!” he shouted with a look sharp enough to cut. The chamberlain scrambled to explain. “Prince Theophilis ordered it! He chased us all away! He is currently surrounded by his private soldiers, and I haven’t a clue what’s going on…!” Roderick ground his teeth. He was so irate, he almost felt dizzy. Now Theophilis was part of this mess? That fool’s feet were supposed to be tangled in a trap at this very moment. Roderick clicked his tongue in fury. How long? How long had Theophilis been in league with Alexandra? And why had King Ernst come to Faris? Did he truly think anyone would believe his flimsy excuse about visiting the ill king? Daeg Gallus didn’t say anything about this… No sooner had the thought entered his head than he jolted up and scanned the room. How strange. No matter how he thought about it, this was too strange. How could everyone have been so taken by surprise? And then, among his panicked underlings, he spotted the liaison, the one who always kept him informed. The man was just as panicked—and for the first time, the blood drained from Roderick’s face. “I know exactly what kind of man the second prince is,” San said with a grin. “He’s a fool, plain and simple.” Randolph frowned, unsure how to answer. “I’d be willing to bet Prince Roderick is in an absolute frenzy over King Ernst’s visit. Daeg Gallus was his only hope, but this time they won’t be able to do a thing. Because they don’t know about it. Once he finds out even Prince Theophilis is involved, he’ll probably be petrified.” “…You talk like you saw it all happen.” King Ernst had left Adelbide over ten days ago. He might well have made it to Faris by now and caused the reaction San described, but Randolph couldn’t imagine a report would have arrived yet. “I wish you’d compliment my powers of imagination. But the point is, Roderick is a suspicious man, and I’m certain he’s asking plenty of questions. Such as how long Theophilis and Alexandra have been in league, why King Ernst is there, and what his aim is. The truth is, he’s simply there to visit the ill king. But with Alexandra imprisoned, he can’t know the truth. So what will he do? Try to confirm his guesses, I’ll bet.” San smiled with profound happiness. “And our captive princess will be freed.” What was happening? What the hell was going on? Roderick sat down in a chair and fidgeted in irritation. One of his white-faced aides approached him. “Your Highness, it’s hard to imagine, but…” “…What?” “…could it be that Alexandra has already joined forces with Adelbide…?” “Don’t be stupid!” “B-but then why did King Ernst come to Faris? Do you believe his story about visiting the king? And for Lord Theophilis to act like that, when not long ago they were enemies—” His aides whispered among themselves. Roderick could stand no more. Before he knew it, he was on his feet, screaming. “I’m going to the tower! I will make that woman explain this to me! I’ll have her motive before I’m through!” He stormed off to the tower immediately, his attendants in tow. Alexandra was locked up at the top of the tallest of the three watchtowers. The cell had been constructed primarily for highborn prisoners. It was not a cage but rather a cylindrical room, and once the door was locked, it was impossible to open from inside. Even food was delivered through a vent. When Roderick opened the single, tightly closed iron door to the tower, a moldy draft spilled out along with a shaft of sunlight. Beneath the skylight stood a woman, gaunt but still beautiful, facing him with a smile. Roderick stared at her in disbelief. “No!” He stepped back, the blood draining from his face. “No—that’s not Alexandra!” Even to himself, his voice sounded like a shriek. But no—it wasn’t her. Yes, her hair color and her eyes were identical to Alexandra’s, and the general features of her face were similar. From a distance, you might confuse them. But not from close up. This was a different woman. “Who are you…?” he asked in a shaky voice. She bowed her head in a perfect retainer’s bow. “My name is Aliana, Prince Roderick.” “Ali…ana?” he echoed in a daze. “Yes,” she answered firmly. “I have the honor of serving Queen Alexandra as a lady-in-waiting. My friends call me Allie.” There is no San among the supporters of the third princess of Faris! When Connie, still crouched on the executioner’s platform, heard Jeorg Gaina’s words, she looked up in surprise at San. The big-boned woman with hair the color of the sun and eyes like lapis lazuli smiled back at her a little awkwardly. Ulysses clung to her leg, a puzzled look on his face. “I don’t know who that boy is, but I find the claim that he’s the prince extremely suspicious,” Gaina said, shaking his head theatrically as if he found the situation most regrettable. Another wave of whispers surged through the crowd. San said nothing. She simply watched the scene unfold. Connie wondered in a panic why she would not speak. Why didn’t she contradict him? Why did she let the doubts multiply? There seemed to be nothing false in the way she worried over the kidnapped prince and tried so earnestly to save him. Just as shouts of suspicion and condemnation were beginning to rise from the crowd, a quiet voice silenced them. “The boy before you is without a doubt Prince Ulysses.” A middle-aged man stepped forward. Although he was neatly dressed, he looked exhausted. And his hair was unmistakably thinning. I’ve seen that man before, Connie thought. “Kendall!” Ulysses shouted happily. “Oh!” Connie blurted out. That’s right—Kendall. Kendall Levine, the special envoy from Faris. But she had thought he was back in his homeland by now. “You made it here fast,” San said, raising her eyebrows in surprise. “This old body can still move when it has to. And I had the horse gallop the whole way,” Kendall replied with a shrug. “Here.” He withdrew a document from his breast pocket and held it out to San. “I’ve brought a letter of approval from the meeting of the Council that just took place.” “So the motion carried on such short notice.” “Prince Theophilis put in a good word—but King Ernst’s visit was key. Those with a hand in the plans for war must have been terrified by the thought that the princess already had ties with his kingdom. Our bluff may have been hastily put together, but it was very effective. We have the approval of the shrine as well, so all that’s left is for you to sign, my lady.” “Is that so?” San said, unfolding the letter. Suddenly, she grimaced. “They want me to seal the signature with my blood? A bit behind the times, I’d say.” “I’m afraid that is the custom,” Kendall replied. San sighed, then signed fluidly with the pen he handed her. When she was done, she unwrapped the large sword on her back. “Unfortunately, some of the blood in these veins isn’t very noble—” She slid the blade over the pad of her thumb and sloppily pressed the budding droplet onto the document. “This good enough?” Kendall nodded in satisfaction. “I think that should be plenty,” he said. Then he kneeled deferentially and looked up at Ulysses and San. “Allow me to say once again how glad I am that you are both unharmed, Your Royal Highnesses.” Connie blinked. “…Highnesses?” San smiled like a child whose prank had just been exposed. “That we are. My name is Alexandra Faris. Legitimate heir to the royal throne of Faris, and…” She held up the letter for Connie to see. “…as of this very moment, the new queen.” So Alexandra had us wrapped around her finger the whole time. That was the thought running through Theophilis’s mind as he stared down at Roderick kneeling dejectedly at his feet. Theophilis had pretended to fall into the trap set by Daeg Gallus, but instead had waited for the right moment to storm the tower with his private troops. And now here he was. Roderick was a cowardly man. Without Daeg Gallus, he most likely would have given up his right to the throne long ago. That’s why Theophilis had misread him. He’d left him alone, viewing him as beneath consideration. But Alexandra was different. She had found an opportunity to use Roderick. And this was the result. Theophilis laughed mockingly at himself. The circumstances should have been to my advantage. If only it weren’t for Roderick— —or if Queen Anna were still alive…then things might have turned out differently. Something occurred to him then. Had Queen Anna really died of illness? No, an autopsy had been performed. There could be no mistake. But the Second Shrine had presided over the death—and Eularia was at the Second Shrine. Theophilis followed the thread of his thoughts that far and stopped. He hated pointless endeavors. He would never know the answer, and even if he did, it would be meaningless. Anyhow, things would soon be getting busy. For some reason, Kendall Levine had been in a great rush to gather support for the new queen. It seemed certain he would take advantage of the visit from the king of Adelbide to gain the Council’s approval within the next few days. A voice broke into Theophilis’s thoughts. “…Where is the real Alexandra?” Roderick asked. Theophilis looked at him. His brother seemed to be clinging desperately to any shred of hope. Another few steps and everything should have been his. “In Adelbide, of course,” replied the smiling woman who had been locked up in the tower in her place. Roderick’s mouth trembled. As he sank limply to the floor, Theophilis bound him. The miserable man lacked even the strength to resist. His aides put up much more of a fight, but they were no match for the sheer number of Theophilis’s private soldiers. All of them were bound and taken to the dungeon. Theophilis stepped into the now-quiet cell and gazed down at the woman who so closely resembled his older sister. Although she presented herself as a lady-in-waiting, Kendall Levine had told him that she was, in fact, Alexandra’s stand-in. Aliana was her name, if he remembered right. “Weren’t you afraid of dying?” Theophilis asked out of sudden curiosity. One false step and she might truly have been executed in Alexandra’s place. The woman glanced at him. “I am no more than her shadow. I would welcome the opportunity to offer up my life in her service. And besides,” she continued, “San never breaks a promise.” She spoke as if that was the most important point. Theophilis snorted. How ridiculous. “You think she can rebuild this country?” “Of course I do.” Theophilis nodded. Knowing Alexandra, she just might do it. Then he frowned, irritated at himself for having such a stupid thought. “But I must admit,” the woman mumbled in a mystified voice, “I was certain you and San got on horribly.” “That rat Roderick was on the verge of murdering me. My sister saved my life. It’s only natural to return a favor.” “That is most gracious of you, Your Highness. May I ask your true feelings?” “You think I can beat the legendary Kendall Levine at a negotiation? After he told me Roderick was planning to have me assassinated, he threatened to withhold further information unless I cooperated. Can you believe it? Those brutes as good as told me they’d leave me to the dogs.” “…I see.” “On the other hand, if I withdrew my immediate claim to the throne, they promised me a post. And I won’t have to give up my succession rights entirely, it seems. If Alexandra dies before producing an heir, I will be the next king. I suggest she take care not to incite any insurrections.” With a smile, Theophilis turned to leave, his velvet cloak flapping behind him. Left alone, Aliana looked up at the tower skylight far overhead. She shaded her eyes and turned her thoughts to the eastern sky—to Adelbide. “The new queen…?” “Well, the coronation hasn’t happened yet,” San joked. Connie was dumbfounded. “Are you hurt?” Randolph asked, running to her. Without so much as a glance at the new queen of Faris, he knelt beside Connie and peered into her face. His cerulean eyes inspected her from head to toe. When they arrived at the manacles still clasped to her wrists, they narrowed slightly. He wordlessly pulled several long, thin pins from the breast pocket of his military uniform, inserted one of them into the lock hanging from the manacles, and dexterously spun it. The lock popped open with a metallic click. “…Your wrists are red,” he said, taking them gently in his hands. Her heart pounded. “I’m f-fine!” she said, shaking her hands to show him. His tense expression relaxed slightly, and Connie smiled weakly back. “Queen, you say? What nonsense…,” Gaina exclaimed, seeming to have regained his senses. Shaking like a wet dog, he looked again and again in San’s direction. “Give up,” Randolph said, his voice low. “I know about your connection to Rufus May. We’ve already arrested him. Your other associates, too. It’s over.” No sooner were the words out of his mouth than a squadron of military police surrounded Gaina. He grimaced, roughly batting away the hands that reached out to restrain him. “You won’t get away with this…!” he shouted like a curse, reaching for his hip. He pulled out a fist-sized lump of steel, yanked out the pin, and waved it wildly above his head. “Get down!” Randolph screamed. A second later, there was a roar like the rumbling of an earthquake. Connie was blown off her feet by the blast, her back slamming against the ground. The force of the blow knocked the wind out of her. The next thing she knew, black smoke was rising up before her eyes. People were screaming and running in every direction. She seemed to have twisted her ankle when she fell, and she could not stand up. She looked up and saw that the base of the statue of Adelbide’s founding father, Amadeus, was crumbling immediately above her. It must have been hit by the explosion. With its foundation gone, the statue teetered perilously. Instead of falling backward, which would have been much more convenient, the shadow loomed slowly over Connie. But she could not escape. “Connie!” Just then, a desperate-looking Randolph planted both hands on the ground, covering her with his own body. She screamed. The two of them would be flattened together. “Please get off, Your Excellency! I’m begging you, get off of me!” “I will not retreat!” Boor Excellency! On the verge of tears, Connie struggled beneath his arms to push him off, but his stubborn body, like a cage of iron around her, would not budge. She could see the statue of Amadeus toppling toward them. She had no time. “Help, somebody…!” Connie shrieked. Somebody, anybody! “Scarlett!” She heard something shatter. The enormous statue above her head instantly disintegrated into fragments. At the same time, wind swirled into a vortex. Her hair and skirt flapped in the air. Along with the dust, the whirlwind sucked in the mass of crushed stone that had been flying down toward them like a rain of arrows and carried it far away. Connie watched, wide-eyed, as the magical scene unfolded like something straight out of a fairy tale. “Remember this, Constance Grail.” The voice was as light and clear as a bell. Black hair, as if scooped from the depth of night, streamed in the wind. The amethyst eyes were like caged stars set in an irresistibly bewitching face. Scarlett was the very picture of a notorious vixen. She puffed out her chest proudly. “Heroes always arrive late.” Imagine, having to trouble myself like this! Awfully cheeky of Connie, in my opinion. Scarlett sighed. It was quite exhausting work not only to demolish a statue but also to manipulate the wind to sweep the pieces away. No doubt she had used that superhuman strength said to come out in emergencies. She could feel the energy draining from every corner of her body. Normally, it would have left her too exhausted to stand, but this time, for some reason, the sensation felt as pleasant as lolling in a patch of spring sunlight. The fire from the explosion had already been put out, and the military police had evacuated all the spectators to a safe place. The large woman and the boy said to be the prince seemed safe as well. The only one hurt, it seemed, was that balding old goat Kendall. Apparently, he’d banged up his rear end and had to be carried off to a first-aid station, much to San’s amusement. Randolph Ulster wore a rare look of surprise as he gaped at the remains of the statue. The girl encircled in his arms, staring at Scarlett with eyes peeled wide, seemed somehow to be doing just fine. I suppose this will put an end to Constance Grail’s execution. After parting ways with Hamsworth at dawn, Scarlett had been following the military police, so she knew the current situation. The undercover arm of Daeg Gallus in Adelbide had been pulverized. Rufus May and all the other perpetrators of the present crime had been arrested, and Prince Johan’s daughter, whom they had kidnapped, had been rescued unharmed. Pamela Francis’s testimony would likely soon be withdrawn. Ernst would return from Faris any day now. She had heard that her father, Adolphus, had already departed from Melvina. Everything would be fine. Connie’s name would be cleared. Unlike ten years ago. Scarlett let out another long sigh. Yes, Connie really had behaved with unbelievable impertinence. The nerve, worrying Scarlett like that. “I’m going to tell you something right now, young lady,” she announced, planting one hand on her hip and frowning sternly as she descended to Connie’s side. “If you’d gotten yourself hurt, I’d never have forgiven you!” Scarlett had gone to a lot of trouble for this. She did not intend to forgive any idiotic behavior on Connie’s part. Connie, who had been watching her in a daze, suddenly gasped and her eyes went wide. The blood drained from her face until finally she wailed, “Scarlett…?!” Wondering what all the fuss was about, Scarlett followed Connie’s gaze and realized her own body had become transparent. She must have used too much energy. But no—this was different. When she raised her arm, flecks of light sparkled around it. It’s over. Connie brought her hand to her mouth and gasped. Her lips trembled. Normally she was as slow as a turtle, but for once she seemed to have guessed what was happening. “No…!” She shook her head frantically, her voice unsteady as if she were wrenching it from deep in her throat. “No-no-no, Scarlett…!” So I’m going to disappear, right here? Scarlett wondered with peculiar detachment as she watched her body grow gradually more transparent. It seemed she was vanishing because she had saved Connie. Just as if she were here to right the wrongs not of ten years ago, but of right now. But she had been so fixated on revenge! Calling this outcome a joke would be generous! All the same… All the same, she felt deeply satisfied. As soon as you feel your revenge is complete— Suddenly, Hamsworth’s voice ran through her memory. —you will return to the realm of the gods. Scarlett felt like laughing for no good reason. Connie was sobbing convulsively beside her. Her face was so hideous, Scarlett didn’t even want to look at it. So she laughed until she couldn’t laugh any more. “You should see your own face, Connie, you fool!” She’d be damned if she was going to say good-bye. She lifted her chin proudly. “I’ll tell you something,” she continued. The girl Scarlett Castiel had met at the Grand Merillian was timid and unremarkable. “You have an ordinary face, your handwriting is horrid, and you tend to say things you shouldn’t.” She was clumsy, and whatever you had her do, she did with poor taste. But it was a mistake to assume she was weak-kneed. To the contrary, she was surprisingly bold. “You’re an idiotic fool, and you never listen when people tell you things.” Despite it all, you couldn’t help liking her. Just when you thought you had her wrapped around your finger, you realized she was the one who had you wrapped around hers. “But Constance Grail,” Scarlett continued, smiling brightly before revealing her best-kept secret. “I adore you!” Connie stopped breathing and opened her green eyes as wide as they would go. Then her face crumpled, and she reached out her hands. Between sobs, she was crying something over and over. Scarlett couldn’t hear her anymore. But she looked like she was trying so terribly hard, Scarlett smiled at her one last time— —then vanished into thin air.