Cruello let out a small laugh.
His voice lowered slightly.
"In truth… there were people who weren’t afraid of , even though they were weak."
"Who?"
"My first fiancée… and a maid."
"Oh… ah."
I shouldn't have asked.
For once, I was grateful that my expression was hidden from Cruello's view.
"Well, I was a mild child back then, so technically, it’s just the maid. I changed a lot after my fiancée died."
"Hmm, I see."
"You really don’t sound interested."
"It’s not that, it’s just…"
"She was blonde too."
Cruello brushed his fingers through my hair, just barely grazing it.
His voice was slightly subdued but steady, unreadable.
I didn’t know how to react.
I wanted to escape, but since we were riding the sa horse, that was impossible.
If this were about soone else, I could at least try to sympathize, but since it was about …
My heart pounded.
He must have heard it, but Cruello didn’t point it out. Instead—
"You asked before, didn’t you? If I killed my fiancées."
It was a conversation we had when we left the guild.
"All of them… even the ones who supposedly died from illness."
"Was it because of you?"
"Did you personally kill them?"
"I said no, but that was only half true. My first fiancée died in my place."
I stared straight ahead, unable to answer.
The steady rhythm of hooves filled the silence between us.
"There was poison in my tea. She switched cups with over sothing trivial… and then…"
"…"
"If I had drunk it, I wouldn’t have died. But she… she was already sick."
It was a aningless death.
"Sotis I wonder what she was thinking in those final monts. Whether she resented ."
"Ah…"
"What about you, darling? How much do you think she hated ?"
It wasn’t a question laced with deep aning.
I…
Swallowed the lump of emotion rising in my throat. Then I said—
"She didn’t hate you."
It was the truth, yet I could only answer in speculation. That stung.
"I’m a servant of the divine, rember? My intuition is strong. So I can say this with certainty."
I could feel Cruello’s gaze from above.
My stomach twisted, as if I were lying, but for once, I had spoken only the truth.
I whispered sothing that never reached him.
I didn’t hate you. I never did.
I had known from the start that the tea was poisoned.
I hadn’t been certain at the ti, but the ominous aura coming from the cup was unmistakable.
I had planned to knock over the teacup entirely, but I realized it wouldn’t matter.
There was no guarantee that they wouldn’t serve poisoned tea again if Amy hadn’t been there that day.
So instead, I had wanted to teach Cruello to be cautious.
Besides, at the ti, Amy’s lifespan was already nearing its end.
It was the first ti I had inhabited another body, let alone a child’s.
I had carelessly overused my divine power, worsening the disconnect between body and soul. That accelerated Amy’s decline.
So, if I was going to die anyway, I figured I might as well make my death aningful.
No.
That was only half an excuse. A lie.
While I was Amy, I had received a revelation from the gods.
[Stay silent.]
I could not speak of the truth—I was only ant to guide Cruello.
I had been exhausted.
Lying to a child who only looked at with pure affection was draining.
Maybe I wasn’t as heartless as I thought.
I had been alone for so long that even his clumsy affection had hurt.
And so, that deceptive self-rationalization crept into my mind.
I’ve almost undone his conditioning. This boy isn’t like the villain from the book. Maybe it’s okay now.
At the ti, I had thought possession was a one-ti thing.
If Amy died, that was it.
No more guilt, no more burdens—I could end it here.
In a way, it had been suicide.
It was only later that I realized how wrong I had been.
But by then, it was too late.
"That would be nice," Cruello murmured, scattering my thoughts.
I exhaled softly, as if breathing out negativity.
I shouldn’t dwell on this.
"Amy. That was her na."
"…Yeah."
"This is the first ti I’ve talked about this. I lived too obsessively. It felt like everyone in the world was a spy from the Elder Council."
A devotee of an ancient god who knew how to defend herself—of course, that was soone Cruello had never encountered before.
Wanting to change the atmosphere, I raised my tone.
"Well, you don’t et people as reliable as every day. I an, who else has my looks, personality, and abilities?"
"True."
Cruello’s imdiate agreent made my words sound strangely arrogant.
Wait, did I just end up bragging?
No, it’s not arrogance if it’s true.
"Then I’ll give you a chance to prove yourself."
"An honor, but how exactly?"
"I’ve lost all feeling in my lower half. Cast a spell to remove the pain."
"Is there such a spell?"
"There isn’t? Really? I thought magic could do anything!"
"You rely too much on magic."
"No… no, you can’t say that! Tell it exists!"
"It exists."
"Really?"
"Really."
Cruello snapped his fingers.
Instantly, all the soreness in my lower body vanished.
…Wow. That actually worked?
Cruello laughed softly.
Half of was amazed. The other half was resentful that he hadn't used this spell sooner.
But whatever.
"Use it again on the way back, too."
My body and mind both felt significantly lighter.
There was still a lingering sense of unease, but I was used to that by now.
Stay light. Stay cheerful. Stay carefree!
The smile I forced felt slightly awkward.
***
The Bonetti Territory. Whistle.
The na alone conjured images of a peaceful countryside village.
In reality, Whistle was an imposing city, with a low mountain range to the back and a sharp peninsula jutting toward the sea.
Because of that, the checkpoint line was long.
We bypassed it with magic.
The place was riddled with detection spells, but if we had been the type to get caught by them, we would have been exposed back at the Harvest Festival.
So people bribed their way through, but Cruello’s face was too well-known. If he was recognized, it would be reported to the higher-ups.
And whose fault was that? May Pebula have rcy.
I pulled my hood down as low as possible to keep my face hidden.
"Your darling brother entered the castle."
"I’m not following him. I just need to sneak in at dawn, find the ancestor’s journal, and leave."
I had made up my mind again while we were riding.
I wasn’t soone who should be getting attached to people.
Gavotte must have so plan to handle this situation himself. I just needed to slip in, get what I ca for, and slip out.
"If that’s your plan," Cruello nodded without further comnt.
The sun was already setting, so we decided to find an inn.
An old man with a triangular bandana greeted us.
Then, he uttered those words.
"There’s only one room left. Will that be a problem?"
"…Seriously? Why?"
"Why else? The Count just passed away. People have been pouring in for the funeral."
No wonder the streets were so crowded.
Considering how many people made their livelihood off Bonetti affairs, it was no surprise they could fill an entire town.
Such was the influence of high nobility.
I hesitated, wondering if we should try sowhere else, but the old man must have sensed my hesitation because he quickly added—
"Just take the room. It’ll be the sa everywhere."
"Hmm."
"In a little while, we’ll have nothing left either. From the way you two look at each other, you’re close, aren’t you? Might as well—"
"We'll take it! We'll take it!"
"Geez, no need to shout."
Grumbling, the old man handed us the key.
Naturally, Cruello paid.
I had no money. I was glad he had co along.
After securing the room, we decided to eat before heading up.
"Two bowls of chicken stew!"
The difference from what I was used to in the mansion was imdiate.
But I was hungry.
As I lifted my spoon, I felt eyes on .
It was Cruello, resting his chin on his hand.
"What?"
"Aren’t you going to say grace?"
"No. That’s not really a thing in—"
"Young one! You have to say grace before eating, or your parents would be furious!"
Oh.
I had forgotten. It had been a thing once.
"I an, it used to be, but it faded over ti. Just an old custom now."
I wasn’t wrong.
Cruello didn’t comnt further, and I took a spoonful of stew.
It was passable.
Cruello didn’t even touch his.
Considering I had to sneak into the castle at dawn, I needed to eat.
But honestly, eavesdropping on the other conversations was more entertaining.
The variety of topics was impressive.
Who in which town was absolute garbage, how to seduce soone in three minutes, soone chasing off a debt collector with a plow—
And then—
"So, the young lord is here?"
"He must be. He’s supposed to inherit the title. He even brought the Count’s remains back himself."
Minuet’s na had co up.
Without making it obvious, I glanced over.
Two rchants. Faces flushed red from drinking, eyes unfocused.
"Then, she’ll be the new Count? I heard she isn’t married yet."
"The higher-ups are in a bind over that."
Not a very flattering reputation.
"It’d be perfect if she married the Third Elder’s son. You know, Mikael."
"Good man, that one. But why hasn’t she married yet? I get that we common folk don’t care, but nobility is different, right?"
"She’s still young. You know how kids are at that age—they hate being told the obvious."
"Sigh. Not that we can say anything to the higher-ups. Honestly, I wish Mikael would just beco the Count instead."
"Hey! You’re drunk! What the hell are you saying?"
The other rchant, suddenly alert, clamped a hand over his friend’s mouth.
The conversation ended there.
I turned back to my half-finished stew.
But my ears remained open.
With so many people packed in, there was plenty to hear.
Even when they didn’t outright voice their opinions like those two, it was clear—
The public sentint toward Minuet wasn’t great.
She had spent most of her life at the capital estate, so the Bonetti Elder Council must have shaped the narrative against her.
But if they were this blatant about it… was she really in that much trouble?
"Are you worried?"
"No!"
I imdiately shouted in response to Cruello’s question.
Reviews
All reviews (0)