“The truth is,” he said, “I was often bullied as a boy.”
“You? Bullied?!”
The mere thought was preposterous. Here was a man for whom harassment and torture were mere hobbies, yet he was saying that he himself was once bullied? Bernadetta could not hide the shock in her eyes.
“Surprised, are you?” asked Noel.
“I-I am, yes. I had heard that among all the Seekers in the empire, you are easily one of the most aggressive… It’s hard to even imagine you being on the other end.”
“I suppose that made me what I am today. Yes, I’m more aggressive and merciless than others—and that’s because I myself have experienced cruelty. It made me want to become stronger and to develop a strength that no one could look down upon. I do not want to lose to anyone.”
After saying so, Noel chuckled sheepishly.
“Not a word to anyone about this story, please. I haven’t even shared this with my fellow clan members. It would be rather humiliating for it to be floating out in the open.”
“Oh, but of course. Why did you tell me about it, though?”
“Because I feel indebted somehow. We shoulder the same burden as partners in crime, deceiving your father.”
“Indebted?” Bernadetta couldn’t help but laugh. “Your deception will net you six billion fil, you realize? Please do not talk to me of debt with such honesty.”
His misguided honesty tickled her, and her laughter rang out through the restaurant.
“Is it really so funny?”
Bernadetta wiped at the tears in the corner of her eyes. “Yes, quite,” she said, nodding.
“I’m a little surprised by how easy it is to make you laugh.”
“It’s only because you’re such an eccentric.”
“Really? I don’t think so at all. Then again, it is my first time on a date with a woman, so perhaps it’s a case of nerves.”
The word “date” startled Bernadetta. She had almost forgotten that they were on one in the first place. Although they were faking their relationship, the fact that they were out on a date was undeniable. Noel had admitted that this was his first time on a date with the opposite sex, but Bernadetta was no different—it was her first time too.
“Your face has gone red,” said Noel. “Are you all right?”
Bernadetta’s voice rose sharply in pitch as she replied, “I-I’m fine!” She channeled her embarrassment into clearing her throat. “Speaking of dates, I’m four years older than you. That’s not an issue for you?”
“It’s neither here nor there. Especially considering our love is fake to begin with.”
“Ah, yes. Of course…” Bernadetta had slipped up. In her panic, she’d asked about their age gap. Thinking about such a thing with any sort of seriousness was stupid when this was all just a farce.
“Besides,” added Noel, “the difference is no longer four years. I turned seventeen yesterday.”
“Really? Well then, happy birthday.”
“Thank you.”
Noel smiled and looked at his watch.
“We should be heading to the theater. Let’s finish up.”
The theater performance was about a young prince who took up the crown when his father, the king, fell ill. It was a war story about facing off against an invasion plotted by a neighboring nation. Though it was dark and moody, the efforts of the young and intelligent prince and his loyal retainers was evocative and exciting. The enemy king leading the invasion was no one-dimensional villain either. It was difficult to hate him outright—he was both a loving father and a patriot devoted to his country.
All of the actors were exceptional, as were the props and the stage direction, which made lavish use of cutting-edge technology. It was everything one could expect from the most popular show running in the imperial capital. Every seat in the house was full, the audience fully immersed. Bernadetta was no exception.
Only Noel, sitting by her side, had a different reaction. His eyes were closed, and short breaths of slumber could be heard from his nose. There was zero zeal to be found on his restful, sleeping face. Perhaps he was bored or tired—either way, he seemed happier in the world of his dreams.
Even when asleep, however, Noel left little in the way of openings for surprise attacks. As Bernadetta looked upon the childlike innocence of his slumbering form, she marveled at how comfortable she felt around him.
She thought about his behavior and realized that he might not actually know her real identity. Nobody would be crazy enough to fall asleep right in front of their enemy. Even if it was to catch her off guard, it was too inefficient. Besides, someone like Noel would be much more likely to come at her directly instead of doing things in such a roundabout fashion.
All of Bernadetta’s worries had been in her imagination. It was just as she had first suspected—his sights were set on her father’s money. Noel had no other motives. He wouldn’t suspect her of being the Lord of Flies even in his wildest dreams. Relief flooded Bernadetta’s heart.
She wondered how she could put Noel to use in her plan to kill Malebolge. Having them kill each other was simple—she merely needed to send Noel an anonymous tip revealing who Malebolge was. The problem was that there were still things Bernadetta needed Malebolge to do, and there was no point killing her before they were done. The best possible outcome was that the two killed each other. Noel would be just as much of a bother in the post-Valiant world as Malebolge was. The thought of it was far too dangerous. He had to die. Bernadetta had to work out a script for it all, just like the drama playing out before her eyes.
At the end of the show, the theater erupted with applause as the audience rose to their feet for a standing ovation. Bernadetta joined in too. While clapping her hands, she noticed that Noel had woken up and was now sleepily applauding as well.
The story had ended with the prince’s demise. He faced off against the enemy king only to make a fatal mistake—one that cost him his life. A tragedy if there ever was one. However, even in death, the prince had succeeded in quelling the foreign invasion. Though the kingdom had lost its prince, so long as his retainers followed his wishes, it would survive.
It was a tragedy, to be sure, but one that brought with it a strange catharsis. Bernadetta had even found herself crying at points—tears that mourned both the prince and everything that was coming to a head in her own future.