The sounds of shattering, breaking, and screaming filled the air, mingling with a sense of foreboding.
I stared at the locked door in front of .
"…It’s a dream."
Originally, it took several days for things to reach this chaotic state.
Yet here, it ended too quickly, unnaturally so.
Heavy footsteps approached. Thud. Thud. Thud.
Then ca the sharp, grating sound of tal hinges creaking open.
The library door swung wide, casting a long, ominous shadow across the floor.
I slowly lifted my gaze.
Standing there—
Was my mother.
Her entire body was drenched in blood, yet she was smiling.
"Now, it’s just you. You’re the last disciple."
Her twisted love was reflected in her eyes.
No—perhaps it wasn’t love at all. More like an obsession with God.
And then—
She crumbled into dust.
I stepped out of the library, scanning my surroundings.
There was no one in sight.
Lowering my gaze, I looked at my hands again.
This ti, they were the hands of an adult.
"It’s about ti I wake up."
I clenched my fist and shook my head.
Or maybe—there was still sothing I needed to do in this dream.
I hesitated, then decided to search for sothing to pass the ti.
"Maybe I should look for 〈Fate〉."
Stopping before a mountain of books, I began digging through them.
That was the last book I had read before becoming Amy Royalsand—so it had to be here.
But no matter how hard I searched, the brown leather-bound volu was nowhere to be found.
Maybe it was never here to begin with.
Maybe—
This wasn’t a dream at all.
What if the place I believed was real had been the dream instead?
What if Siora Bonetti had never existed at all?
"Ah."
I suddenly tilted my head upward.
The temple was as massive, towering, and hollow as always.
And inside—
There was only one person.
.
Alone.
"…Siora?"
A voice echoed through the vast space.
My vision blurred—I instinctively squeezed my eyes shut and then opened them again.
And when my sight cleared—
I had finally woken up.
The first thing I saw was red.
Vivid, unmistakable red.
Cruello’s color.
"Ah."
For no reason at all—
I felt a strange sense of relief.
It was ridiculous, really. But sohow, I was glad the first face I saw after waking up was Cruello’s.
Of course, he had no way of knowing that. He only looked… a little caught off guard.
Why?
Wait—
Did I wake up at the exact mont he was about to assassinate ?
Just as suspicion crept in, I felt sothing wet slide down from my eye.
I reached up.
My fingertips brushed against damp skin.
I lowered my gaze, half-expecting to see blood.
Instead—
"…Tears?"
Did I just wake up crying from a dream?
?
The Harvest Festival was different—I knew those weren’t my emotions.
But this ti—
I had no idea why.
I couldn’t even rember the last ti I’d cried.
And the dream wasn’t even a nightmare—so what the hell was this?
Baffled and a little embarrassed, I wiped my eyes with my sleeve.
"…Did you have a nightmare?"
Cruello had already recovered, now sitting comfortably at the edge of the bed.
So at ease.
As if this was his own bed.
Of course, it wasn’t mine either.
"I don’t think so?"
If anything, that had been my ho. I was going back there soon.
So it wasn’t a nightmare.
Ah.
Maybe I was hosick.
Now that made sense.
Satisfied with my reasoning, I nodded firmly.
"Why do you look so shocked, Cruello? Did you get caught trying to murder or sothing?"
"You suddenly started crying, so I woke you up—and this is what I get in return?"
"My eyes were probably just dry. I don’t cry."
"Hmm."
"The Harvest Festival thing? That wasn’t crying on purpose. It’s too complicated to explain, but—"
"Then why are you defending yourself?"
"Because you’re interrogating ."
Cruello shrugged, then casually reached out his hand.
His fingers grazed my forehead.
Cool.
"You still have a fever. Are you feeling unwell?"
"Mm, just a bit dazed."
"It’s the fever."
"What, are you worried sick about ? Is your heart shattering into a thousand pieces because I’m ill?"
"Yeah. I’m worried."
…
Fully grown Cruello wasn’t as fun to tease.
Tch. I gave up on the attack.
"We are engaged, after all. Shouldn’t I be?"
"Try rembering the divorce clause in our contract before you say that, partner."
"I never knew Darling would be so heartbroken about that. I’m touched."
"Alright, enough pointless chatter. How long was I out?"
"It’s been three days."
Whoa. That long?
I must’ve still been dealing with the aftereffects of the Nine Gates. No wonder my body had been in such bad shape.
That would explain the weird dream too.
Cruello began filling in on everything that had happened while I was unconscious.
After the territory stabilized, the Elder Council—who had fled without looking back—started crawling back.
But public opinion had already shifted.
Several residents had witnessed the Elders running away.
And worse—Minuet had cleared Tempestas.
The Elders tried to claim Cruello had helped her pass, but—
"The Elders are all in prison. Well—except for the Second Elder. He went missing."
"Eh? Just like that?"
"An anonymous informant reported the Elders' corruption."
"Would that informant’s initials happen to be C.W.?"
"Hmm. Hard to say. It was anonymous, after all."
Cruello smirked slyly.
Considering the Second Elder of Bonetti had gone missing, there was no doubt that Cruello had orchestrated this.
No complaints from —after all, I still needed to confirm whether Ares was really the one behind all of this.
"Oh, and your sister officially beca a Count as of yesterday. Given the circumstances, the succession ceremony was done in a simplified format."
"Ah-ha."
"And that Count asked a question—why I ca all the way down here."
"What did you say?"
"Mm, I gave a suitable answer, but let’s match our stories later."
…What did he say?
Why wasn’t he telling ?
A bad feeling crept up my spine, but I had no ti to dwell on it.
"Shall we go eat now?"
Ah.
Nothing was more important than the current state of my stomach.
***
I got indigestion.
It made sense, I suppose.
Shoving steak into an empty stomach after three days of not eating?
Still, I felt wronged.
Who the hell gets indigestion from eating just a little at?
I must have been scamd by my god when I reincarnated into this body.
"…"
I gazed out the window with a sidelong glance.
At least there was no storm, no howling wind, no thunder.
Hmph. Not that I was scared or anything.
In the end, I spent the rest of the day in the Count’s manor, bedridden.
Not that it mattered—we were leaving for the capital tomorrow anyway.
I half-expected Minuet to storm in and interrogate about what exactly happened that day.
Surprisingly, she only watched for a mont before saying nothing at all.
I had been preparing myself for it, and while I wasn’t entirely sure she would let it go, I was relieved that she did.
As for Gavotte, the one who had been acting strangely ever since we were in the capital—
"Hey… is it true?"
He stood just inside the doorway, talking to from an awkward distance.
Whether he was standing there or inside the room didn’t make much difference to , but it seed important to him.
"What is?"
"The rumor. That you couldn’t ride a horse, so you dragged the Duke along to the territory."
…He really told them the truth?
I nodded without hesitation, but Gavotte frowned.
"Minuet told to teach you how to ride."
"How could she say that?! Learning physical skills from you is an insult to my pride!"
"You can’t even ride a horse!"
"Not my fault. My family was too poor to own one."
"Wait… was it really that bad? No, I wasn’t actually trying to—"
…How has this guy managed to avoid getting scamd his whole life?
I stared at his bright red face with utter disbelief.
He must have noticed my expression because he imdiately got defensive.
"Anyway… thanks."
"For what?"
"For helping Whistle."
"See? I’m still an outsider to you. If you really considered family, you wouldn’t thank just for helping our territory."
"What? Hey, that’s—"
"Sniff, sniff. I’m so hurt. My dear little brother still sees as a stranger. The ostracization is too much—I’m suffering!"
"Siora!"
Gavotte, flustered, marched forward as if to grab —then hesitated.
Realizing that this was my bedroom, he froze.
He stood there, hovering near the doorway, unable to step in or retreat.
Like a lost puppy.
I burst into laughter.
Gavotte glared, about to protest, but seeing how thoroughly amused I was, he ended up laughing too.
The warmth of that mont only lasted for a short while.
As the laughter faded, so did the lightness in his expression.
Gavotte hesitated, then spoke.
"…Siora."
He didn’t finish the sentence—instead, he watched carefully.
That reaction told everything.
He knew more than I expected.
Had Minuet told him? Or had he pieced it together himself?
Was that why he kept his distance in the capital?
I pretended not to understand.
"He’s in a better place now."
"…Yeah."
It was a shallow comfort, and we both knew it.
Gavotte lowered his head.
The carpet at his feet grew damp.
I saw the tears dripping from his face.
I pretended not to notice.
The distance between the bed and the door was enough that I could pretend I saw nothing.
And that was fine.
***
The mont we arrived back in the capital, Cruello disappeared sowhere.
He entered the drawing room of a monochro mansion, where a deep masculine voice resonated.
"I know that the Second Elder does not share the Grand Elder’s opinions."
The person across from him was an old woman, dressed in plain robes, calmly smoking a pipe.
She was the Second Elder of White Desert.
"When you were young, you were the sa as him. But at so point, you stopped interfering with ."
"Did you assu I had abandoned the cause?"
"Of course not. I imagine you simply believed that leaving alone would yield better results."
"Are you judging now? Enough with the roundabout talk—say what you want."
"Give the key."
For the first ti, the Second Elder’s gaze lifted from the floor, now locked onto Cruello’s.
Their eyes t.
The old woman’s thin lips curled into a smile.
"You want to gather the keys myself and open the door?"
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