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Chapter 1: The Unusual Lady Ophelia

Chapter 1: The Unusual Lady Ophelia

THE grand ballroom sparkled ethereally as the chandelier’s blazing light reflected off the copious golden decorations. Aristocrats packed the room, as was only to be expected at a ball hosted by the royal family. Ladies glamorously decked out in the trendiest colors did their best to outshine the other ladies, all competing for the title of belle of the ball. And the gentlemen, who smiled broadly as they chatted together, were no better. This was nothing more than a calculated assessment of how they could benefit from these acquaintances.

Claudio gazed out over the crowded ballroom, eyes narrowed in disdain, as if it were particularly odious. His formalwear was conservatively adorned, but the discrete sheen instantly gave away the fabric’s quality, even from a distance. The long, strawberry-blond hair he had loosely tied back was even more eye-catching than his clothing, much to Claudio’s dismay.

Although no one dared to make eye contact, everyone was paying close attention to Claudio’s every move. Even as they engaged in their own meaningless conversations, all of them were only half-listening, focused more on Claudio than the people in front of them.

One after another, the aristocrats offered bland greetings and attempted to ingratiate themselves with him. By the time the line had finally dissipated, Claudio struggled not to click his tongue in frustration.

Every last one of them a liar…

Many people wanted to form connections with Claudio. In addition to his striking appearance, he was also a highly ranked nobleman. He was simultaneously amused and disgusted by the way these desperate aristocrats, their faces flushed under the light cast by the flickering flames of candles set into ornate candelabras, would open and close their mouths repeatedly like fish, trying to find just the right moment to cut in and speak to him.

All it took was for him to reply dismissively to their well-masked, probing questions and glare at them a bit, and the cowards would turn tail and flee, their faces suddenly white as ghosts.

Anyone who would try something like this on Claudio—the Director of the Ministry of Justice, in charge of investigating and sentencing criminals—must have ulterior motives.

Claudio called over a servant who was circling the room with a tray and accepted a glass of wine. The way the servant lingered even after Claudio had taken his drink suddenly reminded him that he’d come with a date this evening. In fact, the beautiful young lady in question, her long black hair cascading in elegant waves down her back, stood right beside Claudio, practically snuggling up against him. With her refined bearing and perfect posture, she was a model of the ideal noblewoman.

“Stella, would you like something to drink?”

“Yes, thank you, Lord Claudio.”

Claudio picked up another glass of the same wine and handed it to Stella. She brought the glass to her lips and tipped it back ever so slightly, leaving him wondering if she was actually drinking it or just pretending.

“It’s delicious. Thank you.”

Stella lifted just the corners of her mouth in a well-bred smile. Claudio had no idea what she was playing at. Even if she had actually taken a sip of the wine just now, he seriously doubted that she’d drunk enough to detect the flavor.

Once again forcing down the impulse to click his tongue in irritation, Claudio dragged his gaze away from Stella.

“I was very much looking forward to attending tonight’s ball with you, Lord Claudio. It’s an honor to be able to stand beside you.”

“I’ve told you before, you don’t need to waste lip service on me.”

“That’s not… I really was looking forward to it, being able to stand beside you like this.”

Another clueless aristocrat, failing to pick up on the tense atmosphere between them, approached to speak to Claudio, effectively interrupting this frustrating conversation.

Claudio was giving the briefest possible responses to the nobleman chattering away at him when he sensed someone pushing their way through the crowd, moving in his direction.

Noticing that the people around him were all staring at something behind him, Claudio too turned to look.

“Ahhh… B-Brother, please… Help me…!” a young woman shouted as she stumbled toward Claudio, nearly plowing straight into him. A young man, reacting to her cry, grabbed the lady at the last minute, thankfully preventing her from crashing into Claudio. Both shared the same dark brown hair and strikingly similar features, and both were dressed in dark blue formalwear that seemed to have been intentionally designed as a matching set. They gave off the kind of plain, unremarkable aura that one would quickly forget about entirely the moment they were out of sight.

The young lady wobbled the instant the young man set her on her feet, as if truly incapable of so much as sustaining her weight.

“Ophie, get a hold of yourself! Here, hold on to me.”

“No more, I can’t! L-Let’s go home, please…!”

The young lady, somehow finding her balance while clutching onto the young man’s shoulder for support, finally spotted Claudio standing directly in front of her and sucked in a horrified gasp. Her deportment might be terrible, but at least it seemed she did possess manners, because the shell-shocked lady lifted her skirts in trembling hands and bobbed a shallow curtsy.

“U-Um, good day, Your Grace, Duke Stolarni… S-Such fine weather we’ve been having, isn’t it? Uh…”

The young man standing beside the disoriented lady gave a reluctant bow as well. Noting the displeased expression on the young man’s face, Claudio opened his mouth to speak.

“…What’s going on here?”

“Oh! Um, i-it’s nothing…”

The young man looked away evasively as he gave that unbelievable excuse. Clearly, something was going on.

Stella spoke up from where she’d been standing silently at Claudio’s side, concealing the bottom half of her face behind her fan. “This woman seems to be unwell. Is everything okay?”

“Yes, she’s just fine. I’m so sorry for the disturbance; I’ll bring her home immediately!” the young man exclaimed.

“Perhaps she had too much to drink? If she’s feeling unwell, you can ask the servant over there to prepare a room where she can lie down for a bit to rest.”

“Y-Yes, that’s exactly right! She’s such a lightweight that she got drunk from just one glass! I will do exactly as you suggest, my lady. If you’ll excuse us…”

The young man moved with practiced ease, wrapping an arm around the young lady whose arms and legs were trembling and whose eyes were practically rolled back in her head, and led her away as quick as a hare.

Based on how terrified they both appeared, it didn’t seem this was some strange ploy to create an opportunity to speak to Claudio. It must’ve been a genuine coincidence that the young lady had stumbled into Claudio in her unwell state.

Still, there was something strange about that young woman… Her arms and legs were shaking, and she seemed much more upset than the situation called for. Almost as if she’d been involved with something bad…

Claudio sought out his subordinate, Samael, whom he found awaiting orders a short distance away, and gestured to him. Samael, with his black bangs swept to one side and fashionable clothes following the latest trends, blended seamlessly into the crowd without drawing attention. Fortunately, that happened to align with the man’s interests as well. Without a moment’s hesitation, Samael responded to Claudio’s signal, disappearing into the crowd.

“I’ve never met that young lady before. I wonder which family she’s from,” Stella whispered conspiratorially as she traced the young man and the odd young woman’s progression with her eyes.

“If I’m not mistaken, I believe the young man is the eldest son of Earl Narve. They had the same color hair and eyes, so I assume the lady must be his younger sister.”

“Ohh, that person…”

“Is she famous?”

Seeing Claudio express an uncharacteristic interest in someone, Stella again spread her fan and concealed her expression. “I’m not sure if ‘famous’ is exactly the right word… The young lady of the Narve family is said to be very sickly, which is why she never attends any social functions. Although I’ve heard that since she reached the age of majority at sixteen, she’s been working as a secretary at the Architectural Institute, where her father and brother are employed, in order to improve her stamina a bit. I wish I could remember her name… But based on the way she appeared, she must be dealing with some kind of illness…”

Due to the fan concealing Stella’s face, Claudio couldn’t determine merely from her choice of wording whether she was truly sympathetic to the young lady’s plight or if perhaps she was just ridiculing her. Claudio averted his eyes from Stella and brusquely tossed back the remaining wine in his glass.

Both brother and sister had unremarkable dark brown hair and eyes with no outstanding features. The younger sister usually secluded herself from society, yet for some reason, she’d attended this ball. The question was, why now?

The nobles again circled around Claudio, seeking an opportunity to speak to him. He wanted nothing more than to shake off Stella’s hand resting possessively on his arm and return home so he could get back to work. Why did he have to waste his time in such a pointless manner at a place like this when he had so many cases that needed to be investigated?

The aristocrats who’d carelessly approached Claudio flinched as a brooding aura emanated from him stronger than ever.

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“HUFF,huff… I can’t do this. I want to go home!”

“You’re the one who wanted to come here in the first place, Ophie!”

Ophelia’s older brother, Bernard, set her down on a bench in the vacant courtyard they’d fled to, and she slumped limply in her seat. She let her arms and legs droop and leaned back to rest her head atop the bench’s backrest, heaving a sigh as she attempted to get her breathing under control.

“Well, yeah! That’s because I heard it was the first ball Duke Stolarni would attend with his fiancée, Lady Stella. I just wanted to get close enough to be able to say I’d breathed the same air as them. I didn’t plan to stay long in the first place!”

“I told you that you wouldn’t be able to handle coming to a place this crowded.”

“Yes, I realize now how foolish I was. I won’t ever come to an event like this again!”

“Let’s go home once you’ve calmed down a bit. At least you achieved your goal of seeing the duke and Lady Stella up close.”

“…I never imagined when I heard about their engagement that they would be like that.”

“Well, yeah, a lot of marriages between nobles are like that; it’s just how things are… But I guess that has nothing to do with us. Do you think you can walk now, Ophie?”

“Yeah, thanks, Bernard.”

“You’re welcome. I’m used to it by now.”

Only the sound of leaves rustling disrupted the silence as a passing breeze made the trees sway gently back and forth as if dancing. Through the brightly lit window, ladies and gentlemen could be seen within the ballroom laughing and chatting together. Outside, brother and sister made their way through the dark garden, carefully minding their footing.

“I greatly prefer watching from out here,” Ophelia said, breaking the silence.

“If I could, I’d rather stay out here too.”

A simple flowerbed was tucked into a sliver of empty space in front of an open-air corridor elevated slightly above ground level, a good distance away from the ballroom. It appeared that the gardeners had planted some kind of short-stemmed flowers in an evenly spaced pattern in this unused space, but the dim lighting made it hard to see.

“Ahh!”

Ophelia crouched down to try to determine what color the flowers were, but her knees suddenly buckled, and she tumbled face-first into the flowerbed.

“Ophie?!”

Bernard reacted immediately to his sister’s scream, hurrying to her side.

Ophelia only had a moment to reflect on her good fortune in just barely avoiding crushing any of the flowers. She really wanted to brush away the dirt that had gotten all over her hands when she instinctively threw her arms out to break her fall, but her legs had begun shaking again, so badly this time that she couldn’t even climb to her feet. If she was shaking so badly that she couldn’t stand, it could only mean that something wrong was nearby.

“Here, Ophie, hold on to me.”

Unconcerned about getting dirt on his clothing, Bernard scooped Ophelia up from behind and helped her to stand.

Once she was stable on her feet, Ophelia turned to gaze up at the open-air corridor.

“Bernard, there’s something up there, I’m sure of it.”

“So it would seem. Let’s get out of here quickly.”

“No, wait! We can’t just leave like this.”

“…It’s fine. This is the Royal Palace, after all. I’m sure someone will…”

“No! I already know about it now. I can’t just leave knowing someone might get hurt…”

Ophelia grabbed onto Bernard’s jacket with both hands, desperately attempting to persuade him even as her knees wobbled. Her deep brown eyes were brimming with tears, threatening to overflow. Seeing that, Bernard’s eyebrows drew together, and he let out a defeated sigh.

“Okay, fine… Let’s go take a look.”

“I’m sorry, Bernard…”

Somehow Ophelia managed to take a step forward and hobbled back across the courtyard on trembling legs, holding onto Bernard’s arm for support.

Bernard’s shoulders drooped as he reluctantly pointed out, “I have a feeling that area is probably off limits… What are we going to do if someone catches us?”

“The usual—pretend to be lost.”

The two spoke in hushed whispers, their faces pressed close together so they could hear each other. Although there were no signs of other guests in the courtyard, guards were certain to be somewhere.

The siblings returned to the terrace from which they’d initially exited into the courtyard and entered the building through the door there. They stepped into a wide hallway that, to the left, led back into the ballroom and, to the right, continued toward the open-air corridor from earlier.

“There’s a break room set up for ball guests just before the open-air corridor. Let’s pretend we were trying to go there and got lost,” Bernard whispered, and Ophelia nodded.

“Oh, I was right. This is it, Bernard.”

“So it would seem.”

As they approached the open-air corridor, Ophelia’s hands began trembling as well. A moment later, they reached the corridor entrance and stopped to look around.

“There’s no doubt about it, this is the place… B-But where…?” Ophelia asked, her legs shaking so badly by this point that she was essentially hanging off of Bernard.

Bernard wrapped the arm Ophelia was clutching around her waist to prevent her from falling and narrowed his eyes as he searched the dimly lit area.

“Over there.”

“B-Bernard…!”

Bernard’s gaze fixated on a point a few steps ahead, at the closer end of the corridor, and Ophelia looked up at him beseechingly.

“I will make the arrangements first thing tomorrow for it to be repaired.”

“N-N-No, tomorrow’s not soon enough!”

The tremors wracking her body had rendered her hands almost unusable, but Ophelia forced power into them and tugged on her brother’s sleeve.

“As things stand, it’s already far too late. It’s already at its limit. I’m absolutely, positively sure, someone’s going to be injured soon.”

“Sigh… Not again… Fine, fine. I’ll go now…”

Ophelia released her brother and found a nearby pillar to cling to in his place, then called out words of encouragement to him, “P-Please, Bernard… Be careful!”

Bernard held onto the railing and slowly made his way out onto the open-air corridor, taking one ginger step at a time in a partially stooped position. He stopped when he got to the area that he’d been staring at suspiciously earlier. Ever so cautiously, he stepped forward with one leg, and the moment he transferred his entire body weight onto that leg, an alarming CRACK! cut through the quiet night.

“Oh, Bernard…!”

“Oops-a-daisy! Yup, this is the spot. Whoa!”

The board he’d stepped on was rotted through. It broke, making a much louder noise than one might expect based on the size of the hole. Since he’d anticipated it, he should’ve been able to pull his leg back in time, but Bernard moved just a bit slower than other people. As a result, his leg was sucked into the hole in the floor.

The moment Ophelia spotted the hole, her body stopped shaking, and she raced over to her brother’s side.

“Bernard! Are you okay?”

“Ow, ow, ow! Yeah, I’m fine. It’s probably just a few scrapes.”

“In that case, wait just a minute. I’ll call for help!”

With that, Ophelia sucked in a deep breath and screamed at the top of her lungs.

“Ahhh! Bernard! Oh, my brother! Somebody, anybody, heeelp!”

Not a moment later, heavy footsteps ran toward the pair, and a moment after that, two guards appeared. The guards pulled Bernard’s leg out of the hole and sat him down on the floor. Ophelia crouched down beside him.

“It seems the floor was rotted out. Are you injured anywhere, sir?” asked the guard who’d been examining Bernard’s leg.

“I’m fine. Please place something here to prevent anyone from falling in.”

“This passageway is only used by the servants. Forgive me, but what were you doing here?”

“My sister was feeling unwell, so I wanted to bring her to the break room, but I’m afraid we’re not very familiar with the Royal Palace and got a bit lost… Once I realized we’d gone too far and tried to turn around, the floor gave out and, well, you can see the result…”

As she sat silently listening to Bernard speak, Ophelia’s hands trembled. She clung to her brother’s back to hide her hands, but it also seemed to convince the guard questioning Bernard that he was telling the truth.

“Can you walk? I’ll show you to the infirmary,” the guard offered.

“That won’t be necessary; it’s merely a few scratches. Besides, my clothes have gotten dirty, and it would be terribly embarrassing for anyone to see me like this, so I’d like to return home right away. If you’d please lead the way to the carriage depot?”

“As you wish.”

The guards helped Bernard and Ophelia to their feet, and once the two of them had brushed the worst of the dirt from their clothing, the entire group set off in the direction of the carriage depot.

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ONCE they’d gotten a safe distance away, Claudio and Samael stepped out from their hiding spot behind a thick decorative pillar.

“There’s something suspicious about those two,” Samael said.

“What in the world were they doing?”

After the sister had suddenly fallen over in the courtyard, the siblings, huddled together as if in fear, headed straight for the open-air corridor without ever faltering from their course. Samael had found that highly suspicious and ordered a nearby guard to report it to Claudio immediately. Claudio had hurried over, and the two concealed themselves behind the pillar where they could watch the siblings unseen.

“I thought they might try to set up some kind of dangerous trap, but I certainly didn’t expect they would step through some rotten floorboards almost as if on purpose… And then call attention to it, of all things?” Samael mused.

“What kind of objective could they possibly have for doing something like that?” Claudio asked.

“A normal person like me would have no hope of understanding. But perhaps a weirdo like you might have an idea?”

“I’ve got no idea what their game is! And who are you calling a weirdo?!” Claudio unintentionally shouted that last bit, and the moment they realized it, both men ducked back behind the pillar.

“Shh, they haven’t completely left yet! You can’t speak so loudly, or they might hear you.”

“Whose fault was that?!”

Claudio folded his arms and glared at the siblings’ retreating figures. Those two were entirely too suspicious. They were hiding something; there was no doubt about that.

“Look into both of them. And for the time being, assign surveillance to keep an eye on their movements.”

“Yes, sir.”

Samael turned to hurry off and do as he’d been ordered, but suddenly he stopped. When he turned to look back at Claudio, his expression was not that of the subordinate who’d just formally acknowledged his superior’s orders, but that of a milk-sibling who’d been by the other man’s side since they were both young children.

“You’d better hurry back now.”

“Huh?”

Following Samael’s lead, Claudio unconsciously slipped into a casual manner of speaking.

“You left Lady Stella by herself and rushed over here, didn’t you?” he pointed out.

“I’m sure she’s found people to talk to. She always seems to have an entire entourage following her around.”

“But you’re her fiancé, so get your act together and act like it. Today, you’re not the director; you’re the duke. Chop, chop, back to work, Your Grace!”

With this, Samael ran off, not waiting to hear Claudio’s reply. He was a troublesome fellow… But he also wasn’t wrong. And he’d gone as far as to change his manner of speech to let Claudio know that he was offering this advice not as an employee but as a friend.

Claudio looked back once to confirm that the strange siblings had disappeared into the distance before making his way back to the ballroom, feeling as if he had lead weights attached to his feet with each step he took.

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THE day after the ball was a day off. After their ordeal the night before, both Ophelia and Bernard slept until noon and still awoke exhausted. Even when the following day rolled around, the two were still dragging a bit as they sat slumped in the Royal Palace’s carriage.

Ophelia’s brother and their father, Earl Narve, worked at the Architectural Institute, which was under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Ceremonies. Generation after generation, the Narve earls had left the governance of their estate far out in the countryside to a branch of the family that held the hereditary rank of viscount so they could lead a simple, unobtrusive life in the Royal City and work at the Architectural Institute.

Every day, Ophelia would ride together with her father and brother in the carriage that took them to the Architectural Institute at the very outskirts of the Royal Palace grounds. It wasn’t a terribly busy department, so they were almost always able to leave together after work without needing to do any overtime. Add in the fact that they tended to spend most of their days off at home together without going out anywhere, and the Narves had earned the reputation of being a very close, loving family within the Architectural Institute.

“So, Ophie, what did you think of Duke Stolarni? I know how much you were looking forward to seeing him,” the siblings’ father, Sigmond, asked his daughter, who was lying against her brother’s shoulder with her eyes closed. Sigmond shared his children’s dark brown hair, eyes, and plain facial features.

“From a distance, he was very handsome and almost appeared to be sparkling, but…”

“But?”

“Up close… He was very frightening.”

Ophelia’s father couldn’t help the unbecoming snort that escaped him at the sight of his flustered daughter realizing what she’d said and covering her mouth with her hands in horror.

“I told you not to get your hopes up, didn’t I? The duke is famous for being a strict and difficult person.”

“It’s hard to believe he’s the younger brother of our kind and magnanimous king,” Ophelia remarked.

“It’s said that back when the duke was still the heir presumptive, many scheming aristocrats pegged him as an easy target due to being the king’s much younger brother, and yet each of them was dealt with ruthlessly and sent packing with their tails between their legs. I’m sure his prickly exterior is a result of dealing with such machinations ever since he was a child. He’s actually a sincere and hard-working young man, I’ll have you know.”

“Even so, it’s strange to glare at people simply for daring to greet him politely, isn’t it?” Bernard muttered, contradicting his father’s assessment of the duke.

“It’s not for you to say such things about those ranked above us, Bernard. In any case, the duke saw you in that state, didn’t he, Ophie? He’s an extremely perceptive man, so from now on it’s best you do all you can to avoid his notice.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice, Father. I have no intention of going anywhere near him ever again!” Ophelia dragged herself upright so she could gaze out the window. The sight of the familiar Architectural Institute coming into view calmed her nerves a little.

Ophelia had possessed a certain special ability for as long as she could remember. She was hypersensitive to the indescribable sense of “something’s not right here” that you might get when something wasn’t fitting into the place, or was in an unnatural state.

Whenever she detected that something was not right, Ophelia’s arms and legs would shake. When it was just a minor issue, just her hands would tremble a bit. But when it was a more serious issue with a high likelihood of resulting in injury, her whole body would shake to the point that she couldn’t even stand. At times, she even collapsed right there on the spot.

She’d fallen into the flowerbed the night before because she’d suddenly picked up on the sense of wrongness emanating from the rotted floorboards. That open-air corridor was meant to be a way for people to cross safely from one building to another. There shouldn’t have been any danger there. So the sense of wrongness hitting her so hard that it literally knocked her over could only mean that the floorboards were on the verge of caving in, and the corridor was no longer capable of serving its intended function.

Unfortunately for her, Ophelia’s special ability wasn’t only triggered by items.

She also sensed incongruency in the words people spoke. When someone spoke words they knew in their heart to be untrue—in short, when they lied—it caused Ophelia’s body to shake.

Among the nobility, compliments and flattery were unavoidable. For Ophelia, the scrapes and bruises from countless falls were nothing compared to the pain she felt in her heart knowing how others truly felt.

She did her best to avoid people altogether, spending all her time holed up at home, but her father wouldn’t have it and sometimes forced her to attend tea parties with other young ladies her age.

On one such occasion, a group of young ladies of similar rank had gathered together for a tea party held in the incredible gardens at a certain noble family’s manor.

It was common for young ladies to get together like this prior to their society debut so they could form friendships that would benefit them once they entered high society. However, because they were all nobles, the tea party operated under the same rules as any other society function. Faced with the sight of so many girls exchanging bland pleasantries designed to stroke one another’s egos, Ophelia’s entire body had started shaking violently, and she fell face-down on the lawn, unable to get back up. The other girls, disturbed by Ophelia’s peculiar behavior, slowly backed away.

However, one girl reached out her hand to Ophelia.

“Are you okay? If you can walk, I’ll help you back inside the manor. Or if you don’t think you can, I’ll go find an adult to help. What would you like to do?”

The moment the other girl’s hand touched Ophelia’s, her body stopped trembling. Her concern for Ophelia was genuine to the core.

“Th-Thank you… I think I can walk.”

“Really? All right, then, you can hold onto me, and we can take it slow. If you rest indoors out of the sun for a bit, I’m sure you’ll be right as rain in no time!”

The girl supported Ophelia with one hand and brushed the dirt from her face and dress with the other. She had golden blonde hair that formed gentle waves and emerald-green eyes. Her name was Dominica, and she was the daughter of Earl Moreland. Dominica was the same age as Ophelia, and after living at her family’s far-off estate close to the national border, she’d just recently come to stay at the family’s manor here in the Royal City in preparation for her debut.

“Um, Lady Dominica… Don’t you have to get back to the tea party?”

Ophelia had claimed she was feeling unwell, so one of the maids had led the two young ladies to a room overlooking the garden and set out tea for them there. At present, the maid had just left to send word to Ophelia’s father to come pick her up.

“It’s fine. I can’t tolerate being in direct sunlight for a long time. I’d much rather have tea in a shady place like this. So if it’s all right with you, I’ll rest here until your father comes to get you.”

The hand Ophelia was using to hold her teacup trembled faintly. Dominica was staying here simply to avoid leaving Ophelia alone when she wasn’t feeling well. The realization that there was actually such a thing as a “kind lie” had tears welling in Ophelia’s eyes.

A little later, Ophelia’s father came to fetch her, worked up into quite a state of panic, and somehow or other they made it safely home. In no time at all, rumors of the “strange, sickly Lady Ophelia” began circling amongst the younger members of society. After this, Ophelia’s father stopped forcing her into crowded situations.

A few days after the disastrous tea party, Lady Dominica came to call upon Ophelia, bringing along a gift of sweets. Seeing Ophelia chatting happily with the other young lady without shaking or falling even once brought tears of joy to the eyes of not only her father and brother but also the family’s servants. It was what they’d all hoped and prayed for: Ophelia’s long-awaited first friend.

After that, Dominica visited Ophelia many more times. Ophelia’s heart ached with guilt every time Dominica expressed concern over her health, genuinely believing the reason Ophelia couldn’t leave her house was because of a weak constitution. The fact that Ophelia also reacted to her own lies only exacerbated that, and the way her body shook every time she answered Dominica’s well-meaning questions only made Dominica worry even more.

Unable to bear lying to her only friend any longer, Ophelia decided to reveal her secret. She knew Dominica might find her creepy and hate her. But she didn’t want to lie anymore, so she came clean about everything. For a long moment, Dominica just stared at Ophelia in shock. Then she opened her mouth and said something entirely unexpected.

“So does this mean I don’t have to put on an act at all around you?”

Dominica smiled broadly when Ophelia nodded, confusion plain on her face.

“You see, I grew up in the countryside and have a bad habit of always saying the first thing that comes to mind. I’m always being scolded for it. But if you actually prefer that… It’s a huge relief for me! Let’s be the very best of friends, okay?!”

When the hand that she’d been prepared to have to let go of only clutched on tighter, it touched Ophelia so deeply that she couldn’t stop crying for the rest of the day.

The days passed peacefully, and before they knew it, Ophelia and Dominica had turned nineteen. Most noble ladies were married by the age of twenty. In keeping with this rule, Dominica, too, had married several months earlier. The groom was Margrave Bressando, who ruled over a border province close to the Moreland family’s country estate. He was significantly older than her, but Dominica had harbored a secret crush on him for years.

Ophelia had used up every drop of courage she’d possessed to attend the first “friend’s wedding ceremony” she’d ever been invited to—and probably also the last if she was being realistic. She’d spent the entire two-week journey out to Margrave Bressando’s province holed up in the carriage all day and her room at the inn each night, but in the end, she arrived safely.

Then came the day of the wedding ceremony…

Duke Claudio Stolarni was among the guests gathered inside the solemn, majestic old church. She’d heard from Dominica in advance that he would be attending as a representative for the king. However, his beauty far surpassed all the rumors she’d heard about him.

His strawberry-blond hair, so rare for a man, was thick and glossy and tied back elegantly to fall past his shoulders. Long eyelashes, the same color as his hair, framed a pair of intense lapis lazuli eyes. He was blessed with an elegantly shaped nose and attractively thin lips. Truly, he was just so beautiful that one might be tempted to mistake him for a female angel if not for his impressive height and fit, masculine figure.

This beauty, combined with the perfectly tailored, high-quality suit he wore, its intricate design and embellishments distinguishing him as a former royal, was too much for Ophelia, who became an instant fan.

Just looking upon such a beautiful person from afar was enough to make the ordeal of attending this wedding worth it, she decided. It was just a shame that she’d probably never get another glimpse of him, given her entire world was restricted to her home, the Architectural Institute, and the short carriage rides back and forth between the two.

Around the time the duke’s face had started to grow fuzzy in her memory, Ophelia’s brother received an invitation to a ball hosted by the royal family. The list of attendees attached to the invitation included the names of Duke Stolarni and his fiancée, Lady Stella Meucci. Stella was famous for being one of a very short list of ladies who constantly vied for the title of “most beautiful woman in society.” It was rumored that she’d refused all suitors until the age of twenty-two because she was single-mindedly in love with Duke Stolarni.

What a majestic picture the most beautiful woman in the country would make on the arm of the most beautiful man in the country…

In an entirely uncharacteristic move, Ophelia impulsively decided to attend the ball. Her pride at surviving the trip to Bressando Province, which spanned an entire month, may have skewed her assessment of her abilities.

The night of the ball, Duke Stolarni wore a fierce expression, and there was a sharpness to his gaze that hadn’t been there during the wedding ceremony. Even from across the room, Ophelia could feel the brooding aura that rolled off of him. Everyone in the vicinity practically shivered from his sub-frigid attitude. Even Lady Stella, despite her supposed true love for the duke, had been almost entirely ignored by him.

Ophelia had been clinging to her brother’s arm while observing the duke, but the lip service of the nobles around her caused her legs to shake so badly that she could barely stand. When Ophelia found herself unexpectedly separated from her brother by the press of bodies all around them, she ended up stumbling around, disoriented, as she tried to find her way back to Bernard.

The next thing she knew, the duke was standing right in front of her with his back to her, and Lady Stella was speaking to him, a wine glass raised to her lips. Just as she registered how pleasant Lady Stella’s slightly husky voice was to listen to, Ophelia’s knees suddenly buckled.

In a desperate bid to keep herself upright, Ophelia crouched in a wide-legged, bent-kneed position that, although highly inappropriate for a gently bred young lady, was fairly stable. However, the flattering comment one of the gentlemen offered the duke a moment later was the final straw that made Ophelia’s legs give out completely.

Mere seconds before she would’ve crashed directly into the duke, her brother swooped in to save her.

The duke turned a frigid gaze upon Ophelia and her highly suspicious behavior. In the space of a single heartbeat, she stopped shaking completely, proving that he was genuinely as angry as he appeared.

Looking back on it, Ophelia was mortified that she’d not been able to properly respond to Lady Stella, kindly asking if she was okay. All of her focus had been on trying to control the shaking that had started back up in her legs as her brother desperately attempted to cover up her odd behavior.

Ophelia was shocked that the duke was actually so frightening. She’d completely misread him at the wedding ceremony. Now she was more convinced than ever that she shouldn’t go out among people.

Immediately following the disaster of the ball, Ophelia had donated the custom-made gown she’d been wearing to the local orphanage. They would carefully deconstruct it and use the fine material to make various small cloth items to sell at the local bazaar.

A horse’s whinny and the carriage’s squeaking tires snapped Ophelia out of her musings. They’d arrived at the Architectural Institute. Ophelia took Bernard’s hand and allowed him to help her down from the carriage.

While walking sandwiched protectively between her father and brother, Ophelia never noticed Samael watching her from the shadows.

🌷 🌷 🌷

TWO weeks had passed since the night of the ball, and on this day, Ophelia had gone to work at the Architectural Institute with her brother and father like normal. Their father worked in another department, so they parted ways in the foyer. Ophelia followed her brother toward the Management Department’s office.

The Repairs Division, where Bernard and Ophelia worked, was part of the Management Department, which was in charge of maintenance and repairs of public buildings.

“Today, we’ll be performing a regulatory inspection at the Ministry of Civil Affairs.”

“Okay.”

“But first, I’m going to submit a work order for that open-air corridor.”

“All right. I’ll get started cleaning.”

“Thanks.”

A decent number of people worked for the Management Department. However, most of them spent the majority of their time out of the office carrying out repairs and inspections, so the Management Department’s office was usually almost empty. Ophelia made her way around the office, cleaning the floor with a broom and occasionally exchanging a few words with one of her colleagues.

“Miss Ophelia, thanks for always keeping this place so spick and span.”

One of Ophelia’s coworkers called out to her from where they sat at their desk, and their words didn’t evoke any shaking or trembling whatsoever. The knowledge that this person genuinely appreciated her efforts made Ophelia flush with happiness.

“I’m not useful for much except cleaning the office, so I’d better at least do that well!”

The coworker laughed good-naturedly at Ophelia’s humble reply and turned back to their work.

By the time Ophelia had finished cleaning the office and organizing the paperwork, Bernard had returned. The two of them shrugged on their Ministry of Ceremonies-issued uniform jackets. Ophelia slid a file folder with the blueprints for the building they would be inspecting into her shoulder bag, and Bernard slipped his arms through the straps of a large, heavy backpack. This backpack contained a portable toolset. If they discovered anything that could be repaired easily, he would perform the repairs on the spot.

The two of them had the highest repair record in their division. From small defects to complete functional failure, the number of maintenance issues they discovered surpassed that of the second-place title holder by no insignificant amount. This was only to be expected, of course, since all they had to do was walk around until Ophelia started shaking or fell over, and they were bound to find something in need of repair in that spot.

“I was told that most of the people working for the Department of Civil Affairs left today for a meeting in a neighboring country. There should only be a few people left in the building. Fortunately for us, they were the ones who requested we do all the maintenance while there aren’t many people around to be inconvenienced by it,” Bernard explained.

“I see. That really works out well for us.”

The Ministry of Civil Affairs primarily handled international relations, so the employees were all exceptionally charismatic and had a way with words. When they spotted Ophelia, who was technically a young lady, they always greeted her in the most dashing, gentlemanly manner possible. They would then lavish such flowery praises on Ophelia that the blatant exaggeration would’ve been comical if not for the fact that it inevitably caused her arms and legs to shake so badly that she probably looked like she was having a seizure.

A gentle breeze ruffled Ophelia’s bangs, sending them dancing lightly over her forehead, and she let out a sigh of relief. She was glad to hear she wouldn’t have to interact with those people this time.

To save time, travel between the Architectural Institute at the furthest edge of the Royal Palace complex and the other ministries was done in a simple, open-topped wagon. Because they sometimes received visitors from other countries, the building housing the Ministry of Civil Affairs was grand and ornate. As the glittering façade of the Ministry of Civil Affairs drew closer, Ophelia unconsciously clutched the strap of her bag tighter.

“Let’s find everything that needs even the smallest repairs so we can take care of them all now and not have to come back here for a while,” Ophelia said with determination shining in her eyes.

“…Regardless of the reason, I’m glad you’re feeling passionate about work!” Bernard chuckled as he climbed out of the carriage. Then he turned and, as always, helped his sister descend.

The two stopped by the reception desk to get visitor passes, then slowly made their way around the building, referring to the blueprints as they went.

As they’d been told, the building was nearly empty. They made their rounds in record time without anyone stopping them to chat. Even so, by the time they made it back to the Architectural Institute, lunchtime had come and gone.

“Ophie, I’ll return the blueprints, so you can go ahead and start lunch without me.”

“Okay, thanks, Bernard. I’ll be in the usual spot.”

Ophelia took her packed lunch out into the courtyard. She sat on a bench inconveniently located in a spot with poor lighting and no view to speak of and ate her lunch. The Architectural Institute had an employee cafeteria, but Ophelia rarely went there because the idle chatter made her hands shake to the point that she was in danger of spilling her tea. Instead, she preferred to sit in an out-of-the-way spot like this and have lunch with her brother.

On the way back to the Architectural Institute, Ophelia heard a man’s voice somewhere behind her.

“Good day, my lady.”

Fairly certain that these words couldn’t be directed at her, Ophelia reflexively slowed her gait but didn’t stop walking.

“Ah, excuse me! You, miss… Please wait.”

Ophelia turned to look at the speaker and was surprised to find he’d nearly caught up to her. Ophelia instinctively recoiled, and the man reacted as if flustered, quickly lowering the hand he’d been reaching out to tap her shoulder.

“I-I’m sorry. I-I didn’t realize you were speaking to me…” she stuttered.

“No, I’m the one who should be apologizing for suddenly calling out to you.”

What could he possibly want with me?

The man’s stiff black bangs were swept to one side, and he was wearing a formal jacket tailored for a highly ranked noble, but it was casually unbuttoned as if he were intentionally flaunting society’s strict dress code. The man smiled brightly at Ophelia as he peered down at her. Looking into his blue eyes, Ophelia felt just the very tips of her fingers start to tremble almost imperceptibly. She knew this feeling very well—it was a sign that he was about to tell a lie.

“Wh-Wh-What business d-do you have with me, sir?”

“Now there, calm down, miss. You’re such a lovely girl that I just couldn’t help myself, and before I knew it, I was calling out to you…”

Ophelia’s knees folded, and she very nearly fell over right there.

Lie! He’s lying!

“Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine… Or, m-maybe not, actually…” she eked out.

“I was hoping if you had the time, we could talk for a bit, but it seems you’re in no state for that right now! Are you well, miss? Suffering from some illness perhaps?!”

“No, no, that’s…”

The shaking stopped just as suddenly as it had started. The man, genuinely concerned about Ophelia’s well-being, let out a sigh of relief before his suspicious smile returned, and he examined Ophelia’s face carefully.

“Are you feeling better now? Do you work here? That jacket you’re wearing belongs to the Ministry of Ceremonies, right? Would you mind telling me your name?”

The shaking in Ophelia’s legs came back full force. He already knew her name, but he was asking anyway for some reason.

Why does he know my name?!

Ophelia could no longer stand due to her wobbling knees, so she hobbled over to the side of the Architectural Institute building so she could lean against the wall for support. She wasn’t sure at this point whether her hands were trembling on the wall because of his lies or from fear.

“It seems you really aren’t feeling well. Here, take my arm. I’ll bring you to the infirmary.”

“I-I’m fine. I can make it back from here, so… Um…”

How does one say, “Please go away,” politely?

“I’m not up to anything suspicious, I swear,” he said. “I just happened to be walking by when I saw you. Please calm down. Take some deep breaths, like this…”

“I’m sorry! Please forgive me! I… I’m technically from a noble family, yes, but… My family are very simple folk, and we’re not particularly wealthy—all of us have jobs because we need to work for a living, even! So there’s really no benefit to kidnapping someone like me—you won’t get much in ransom!” she blurted.

Finally overcome by the shaking of her legs, Ophelia crumpled to the ground, and the man hurried toward her.

“Nooo! Don’t touch me!” she screamed.

“Hold on, you’ve got the wrong idea! I’m just—”

Ophelia slapped the man’s hand away as he reached for her, but try as she might, she couldn’t get her legs to hold her weight to stand and run away. With no other option, she scrambled away from him inelegantly on her bottom, shrieking at the top of her lungs.

“Somebody, help me! Bernard!”

“Ophie?!”

At that very moment, Bernard stepped into the courtyard and, hearing Ophelia’s screams, ran toward her. Seeing this, the man clucked his tongue irritably and turned to hide his face from Bernard. Then, in the blink of an eye, he ran off.

“Ophie! Are you okay? What happened?”

“Oh, Bernard…” Ophelia was so overcome with relief when her brother reached her side, breathing hard after sprinting across the courtyard, that tears flowed down her cheeks. “A strange man asked me my name, but he already knew my name, and he said that he wasn’t up to anything suspicious, but he was extremely suspicious, and, and…!”

“…I see. I’m sorry for sending you out here alone. That must’ve been frightening.”

Bernard gently tugged Ophelia to her feet and helped to brush the dirt from her skirt. When he used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe away her tears, Ophelia grabbed her brother’s hand and affected a stern tone, scolding, “Bernard! You forgot your handkerchief again, didn’t you?!”

“Sorry. Well, I have a dirty one on me, if you’d like that?”

“No, thank you! Haven’t I told you many times that there are clean ones in the closet?!”

“It didn’t look dirty, so I didn’t see any need to change it just for myself…”

Bernard laughed it off good-naturedly, and Ophelia couldn’t help laughing along with him, even through the last of her tears. Sniffling just a bit, Ophelia held on to her brother’s arm and let him lead her back inside.

“But still, I can’t believe I almost got kidnapped here, inside the Royal Palace…”

“That’s because you’re so cute, Ophie; you need to be careful.”

“I’m sure that’s not it. He probably had me mistaken for some other young noble lady.”

“I don’t know, but I’ll ask the guards to take a look around and see if they can find him…” Bernard said pensively, gazing in the direction where the suspicious man had run off.

🌷 🌷 🌷

“ARE you a complete moron?! I can’t believe you! What could’ve possessed you to carelessly approach the target you were supposed to be keeping under surveillance?!”

The windows rattled with the force of Claudio’s right hand slamming down on his desk as he shouted. Two other employees, named Bruno and Angelo, who sat a short distance away, quickly averted their eyes from the terrifying sight of Claudio glaring down at Samael, who stood on the other side of the desk, bowing deeply to his boss.

“…I’m very sorry, sir.”

“You would normally never do something this foolish. So why now?”

“Director, you’ve seen the report on the Narve family. It was only a single page, with nothing remarkable to note. They seem to be an ordinary noble family. I believe they are unrelated to the case at hand, so on my own authority, I made the decision to speak to the young lady myself before closing the investigation.”

“Is that really all?”

Realizing, based on the tone of Claudio’s deep voice, that he’d been seen through, Samael let the stiff expression he’d been maintaining fall from his face.

“She’s always hiding behind either her father or her brother, trembling, like some kind of terrified little animal… So when I saw her eating her lunch all alone in a dismal corner of the gardens that hardly gets any sunlight, I couldn’t help myself. She reminded me so much of my shy little four-year-old daughter who struggles to fit in with others that I just couldn’t bear to leave her like that…”

Samael somehow deepened his bow even further. Claudio plopped heavily back down into his chair, muttering, “Trembling, hm?” Then he folded his arms and sighed, finally giving Samael permission to raise his head. “As you know, this case involves nobles with no common factors. The more ordinary they seem, the more suspicious it makes them.”

“Even so, the entire family seems to do nothing but travel back and forth between their home and their jobs at the Architectural Institute, rarely going out. Their movements are so predictable that it almost seems foolish that we bothered keeping them under surveillance these past two weeks. The son, Bernard, occasionally attends evening parties with his friends, but the Earl and his daughter never leave the house except to go to work. And no one ever visits. Even the supplies their servants purchased at the market were nothing more than a reasonable amount of daily necessities for a household of that size.”

Claudio cupped his chin as he thought over Samael’s report. Then he spoke…

“The first sign that something’s fishy is that the report is only one page long. If you investigated any typical peasant family, you’d surely turn up more than that. I can only assume, based on this, that they must be hiding something.”

“You make a good point, sir,” Samael responded, agreeing with Claudio’s observation.

“Um…” Angelo spoke up hesitantly, now that he’d determined Claudio’s ire had abated somewhat. He had big, round eyes that drew people in and a fluffy mop of blond hair.

“What is it, Angelo?”

“I understand why the sickly daughter never goes out, but isn’t it suspicious that the Earl never attends any social events? Even if he is working in a government office, as a titled lord, isn’t he socially obligated to attend such functions?”

Claudio’s eyebrows drew together in response to Angelo’s question. Samael waved his hand in a pacifying gesture and muttered, “There, there,” to Claudio, then glanced over at Bruno, sitting beside Angelo. Bruno had straight black hair, cut neatly to his shoulders, and long, narrow black eyes. While Angelo had his cheek propped up on his hand with his elbow on the desk and was scratching his head with a pen, Bruno sat primly with the good posture of a gentleman, a slight tilt to his head giving away that he didn’t understand the reason why Samael was looking at him.

“Now that you mention it, I’ve never seen Earl Narve at any society events,” Bruno said.

“I see, you young folks must not know. I guess that nowadays it’s become something of a taboo subject…” Samael turned back to Claudio, who narrowed his eyes irritably and gestured to Samael, bidding him to explain. “You’re aware that it’s quite difficult in this country for nobles to obtain a divorce, correct?”

“Of course. The process is tedious, and it’s difficult for couples to come to a mutual agreement due to concerns about appearances and division of assets. So many couples stay married, even if one or both have lovers or even illegitimate children,” Bruno responded carefully to Samael’s inquiry.

Essentially, so long as the family name was protected, both parties were free to cheat as much as they liked, and it wasn’t uncommon for nobles to unofficially move in with their lovers.

“More than ten years ago, an aristocrat chose to go through that troublesome process to officially divorce his wife: Earl Narve. The wife then remarried the commoner who’d been her lover. At the time, this scandalous story spread throughout high society, and because it was all anyone was talking about, Earl Narve stopped attending social events ever since.”

“I see… I’d heard about cases of nobles divorcing, but I didn’t realize that Earl Narve was one of them,” Bruno said. “I can see why he wouldn’t want to be around people much after that.”

Angelo, who’d been listening along intently without interrupting, followed Claudio’s lead, crossing his arms and frowning. “I could see how such treatment might cause someone to come to resent this country’s nobility… Even if the Earl isn’t involved, it’s possible that after being shunned from society, the siblings may have been tempted by some nefarious organization…”

Claudio glared at Angelo, and he quickly unfolded his arms and gave a little laugh, acknowledging that he may have overstepped.

“…Enough is enough. Bring the girl in for an interrogation. Her brother, too.”

The three men nodded, acknowledging Claudio’s order.

“At the same time?”

“I doubt we’d be able to have a very coherent conversation with that odd girl by herself,” Claudio said.

“Indeed.”

“It seems she might have a severe form of social anxiety, if you ask me,” Angelo said.

“What was someone like that even doing at that ball in the first place?” Claudio asked.

“No idea. Let’s ask her that, too, after we bring them in!” Angelo chirped.

Bruno leveled Angelo, who was swinging his right arm around suddenly, full of excitement, with a look of respect. He was frankly impressed that the other man dared speak to the director like that.

Claudio grabbed the report on the Narve family off his desk and roughly tore open the cover. Why had a lady who spent all her time holed up at home, rarely ever going out, chosen to attend that ball in particular? And considering her and her brother’s suspicious behavior in that corridor, as well as her unnatural shaking…

Claudio slammed his finger down on Ophelia’s name written on the page.

Just what are you plotting, Ophelia Narve?

🌷 🌷 🌷

YESTERDAY had been a terrible shock.

Ophelia clutched the handle of the broom she was holding tightly as she thought back on the unexpected kidnapping attempt.

“I sincerely hope that today will be uneventful.”

Just as she muttered that and was about to get started sweeping, two shadows appeared on the ground at her feet. Ophelia hesitantly turned and found two young men in black outfits standing behind her. One had fluffy blond hair, and the other had straight black hair cut cleanly at the shoulders. In terms of appearance, they were polar opposites, but both wore the same smile. Instantly, Ophelia’s legs began shaking.

Her name was called, and she was given an explanation, but in her agitated state, Ophelia couldn’t process what she was hearing. After that, the two men led Ophelia to a carriage where Bernard was already waiting, his face pale and his brow dotted with a nervous sweat. The two black-clothed men, who’d named themselves as employees of the Ministry of Justice, settled in on the opposite bench, leaving the siblings unable to do anything more than huddle together in fear.

I haven’t done anything wrong! Why am I being taken to the Ministry of Justice for questioning…?

Although the Ministry of Justice was also within the grounds of the Royal Palace complex, the carriage ride felt impossibly long to Ophelia. Her shoulders curled forward instinctively when she heard the tires squeak and felt the carriage come to a stop, and then the door was pulled open.

“Sorry for asking you to come in so suddenly like this…”

The moment she saw the man standing just outside the carriage door, Ophelia sucked in a huge gasp that sounded more like a squeak and leapt half on top of her brother.

“Th-That’s him, the kidnapper from yesterday…!”

“That guy…?”

Samael, who had his black hair in a stylish deep part again today, was so shocked by the siblings’ words that he froze, smile still on his face.

Bruno led the group into a reception room, struggling to resist the impulse to burst out laughing, and the siblings gingerly sat side-by-side on a sofa on the far side of the room.

“Wh-Who would’ve thought an organization like this would be used as a front for kidnapping…” Bernard said, forcing a fierce expression despite his fear as he came to Ophelia’s defense.

“So the brother is just as big an idiot as the sister, eh?” Claudio observed in a disgruntled voice as he swept into the room. Claudio sat heavily on another sofa opposite the Narve siblings, and Samael sat beside him, facing the two.

“I am the Assistant Director of the Ministry of Justice, Samael Anerre. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance yesterday.”

A strangled sound escaped Ophelia, who’d ducked frantically behind her brother as much as their positions seated on the couch allowed.

“Um, what business do you have with us…?” Bernard’s voice grew gradually quieter under the force of Claudio’s unveiled glare.

“Director, I will give you a full report later, so please excuse yourself from this meeting,” Angelo said.

“Why?”

“You’re too intimidating.”

“Shut up. Just ignore me.”

“That is quite impossible.”

Bernard looked curiously back and forth between Claudio and Angelo, who leaned against a wall near the back of the room. Despite being addressed so casually by a subordinate, Claudio hadn’t reprimanded him. That wasn’t to say that he didn’t look angry, though…

“A-All righty then! First, may I confirm that you are indeed Lord Bernard Narve and Lady Ophelia Narve, the children of Earl Sigmond Narve?”

Samael pointedly cleared his throat and moved the conversation along. He was wearing what seemed to be a calculated smile, but since Ophelia wasn’t shaking, it seemed he wasn’t trying to deceive them, so Bernard nodded mechanically.

“…Yes, that’s correct.”

“I’m sorry for the misunderstanding yesterday. As you may have gathered, we have been investigating the two of you.”

“Huh?! You’ve been following us?!” Bernard exclaimed.

“You didn’t notice?”

“Not at all…”

Bernard and Ophelia turned to look at one another, and Ophelia grabbed her brother’s sleeve uneasily.

“It seems it would be easiest to just come out and ask you. Why did you attend the ball several weeks ago?”Claudio huffily crossed both his legs and arms, clearly impatient, and interrupted Samael with this direct question.

Ophelia instantly paled.

“U-Umm… Well…”

“W-Well, you see! W-We’re both reaching that age, you understand, where it’s about time we should really start searching for sprouts—I mean, spouses! —so…”

The facetious excuse that Bernard was awkwardly concocting caused Ophelia’s legs to tremble. Claudio immediately picked up on this, but Samael maintained his disarming smile and continued the conversation.

“Even though Lady Narve hasn’t attended a single ball up to this point?”

Everyone in the room’s eyes focused squarely on Ophelia, who clung desperately to her brother’s arm while shaking like a leaf, and she forced herself to nod once in confirmation.

“I-I’m sorry, my sister isn’t good with social interactions…”

“So I can see.”

Why is this happening to me? Didn’t I just pray for a peaceful, uneventful day? Being surrounded by people and ruthlessly interrogated is anything but!

Ophelia gulped nervously, feeling Claudio’s eyes boring into her. This man wasn’t the same charming Duke Stolarni she’d seen that day at the wedding ceremony. Here in front of her was the sharp-eyed and frightening Director of the Ministry of Justice. Under the force of that glare, she felt compelled to confess to all manner of crimes she hadn’t even committed.

“So you’re saying that you were there in your capacity as aristocrats, searching for a marriage partner… All right, let’s say we believe you. Where did you go after leaving the ballroom, then?” Claudio asked.

“Huh? What do you mean by where? W-We went home,” Bernard insisted. “We quickly realized that we’re not suited for such a lively environment…”

“I assigned someone to follow you,” Claudio admitted. “Now I’m going to ask you once more: where did you go after leaving the ballroom?”

“Er, um… My sister couldn’t walk, so I thought I’d better… Let her rest in the break room a bit before we… Uh…”

Unable to bear her brother’s lies, Ophelia’s entire body began trembling faintly.

“Ophie, hold in there! Er, um… So, we headed to the break room, but we got a little lost…” Bernard was holding her arm still, but Ophelia’s legs began shaking twice as hard, to the point of nearly bouncing on the sofa. “Come on, Ophie…”

“She doesn’t look good… Hey, you! Go get Lady Narve a hot cup of tea.”

With genuine concern apparent in his voice, Samael barked out an order to one of his subordinates. The man named Bruno, who’d been leaning back against the wall beside Angelo, immediately reacted. Claudio continued watching Ophelia the entire time, his gaze unwavering.

“From what I hear, you moved pretty confidently for someone who was supposedly lost,” Claudio said. “Why did you go to that corridor?”

“It was a coincidence… Really, we got lost, and…” Bernard began sweating profusely and trailed off without finishing his sentence.

Bruno silently set a cup of hot tea down on the table. Ophelia jumped in surprise at the sudden appearance of his arm reaching out from behind her.

“Here, mister, use this hand towel. You’re sweating a lot.”

“Huh? Oh, uh… Th-Thank you…”

This time, Angelo suddenly appeared by Bernard’s side, holding out a chilled, wet cloth. Bernard automatically accepted it from him and hesitantly wiped his forehead.

“Lady Narve, would you like milk and sugar in your tea?”

Ophelia found herself unable to respond to Bruno’s kind question, resorting instead to merely shaking her head.

There’s no way I could force myself to drink tea at a time like this!

Bruno and Angelo stood on either side of the siblings, making no move to return to their previous spots. Aside from Claudio, all of the men were smiling at Bernard and Ophelia. There was nowhere left to run.

“How did you know that section of the floor was rotted away?”

Claudio posed the question slowly and deliberately, one intimidating word at a time. Bernard paled even further, unable to formulate a coherent response, merely opening and closing his mouth repeatedly as if mimicking a fish. Ophelia clutched his arm and buried her face against it, her eyes firmly shut. Claudio’s words didn’t produce any trembling in her body. He had no doubt. Claudio was certain that Ophelia and Bernard knew about the rotten floorboards before Bernard had stepped on them.

“Or perhaps you were the ones who set up some kind of trap there in advance? I asked around, and it seems you two are in charge of repairs at the Architectural Institute. It would be easy for you to set it up under the pretense of a maintenance inspection.”

“We would never do something like that!” Ophelia cried.

Bernard, too, raised his head and answered without hesitation, “There is no way we would ever do anything that might injure another person.”

Claudio frowned faintly. It was clear even to him that the two of them took pride in their work. He couldn’t see the sister’s expression, but she’d stopped shaking. “Then why did you head straight for that corridor and intentionally step on the rotted section of the floor, causing a scene?”

“…Th-That’s…! We didn’t intend to cause a scene, if that’s what you’re implying… We just…”

“Bernard… Enough, already,” Ophelia whispered, her face still pressed against her brother’s arm. Although she spoke quietly, Claudio and the others heard every word. “These people are asking questions they already know the answers to. They are telling the truth—they were watching.”

“Ophie…”

“We’re not going to be able to lie about this.”

“Ophie… But, that means…”

Ophelia seemed to have calmed down, so Bruno took a step back and turned his gaze toward Claudio, silently asking for orders.

“If you finally feel like telling the truth, then by all means get to it.” Claudio straightened, then refolded his legs in the other direction.

Ophelia peeked out from where she’d been hiding her face to see what had caused the sound of clothing rustling, then immediately buried her face against Bernard’s sleeve again.

“I-I can’t! Bernard, you do it, please!”

“Huh?! Why me?!”

“I’ve never spoken to so many people at once before. I can’t do it!”

“I don’t care which of you does it; just start talking!” Claudio’s fist slamming down on the table caused both Ophelia and Bernard to jump.

“…I can’t…” Ophelia squeaked.

“I thought you decided to tell the truth!” Claudio roared.

“B-But… Your Grace is so… angry… that I…”

Seeing Ophelia argue back despite the tears welling in her eyes, Samael impulsively spoke.

“Director, could you please be quiet for a bit?”

“Why?!”

“Because your voice is too loud.”

“Shut up!”

“That’s what I’m asking you to do.”

Bernard, somewhat eased by the exchange between Claudio and Samael, sat up straighter. “Um, I will speak. However, we’ve never shared this with anyone outside of our family, so I’m not sure I’ll be able to explain it very well.” He gave Ophelia’s hand a little squeeze where it clutched tightly onto his sleeve, then began to speak with determination. “My sister can perceive the lies of people and things.”

“Lies?”

Samael’s expression turned dubious. But Bernard merely nodded in confirmation and continued.

“Whenever she finds herself close to something that’s not in its proper place and form, her arms and legs begin to shake. On the night of the ball, when we were out in the courtyard walking past the open-air corridor, Ophelia’s legs folded and she collapsed. However, she didn’t know what exactly was causing the shaking. That’s why we went to confirm the source.”

“Uh-huh…”

Samael scratched his head, clearly not expecting this answer. Claudio, on the other hand, never turned his gaze from Ophelia as he ordered, “Go on.”

“There was nothing wrong with the exterior walls, so we went inside to check the corridor itself. Ophelia was able to pinpoint the general area but wasn’t sure if the problem was with the floorboards, the walls, or maybe even the ceiling. So I went over to check, and… that’s when I fell through the floor.”

“What you’re saying is that the floorboards were already rotted and not in a state that people would be able to walk over them. They couldn’t serve their intended purpose, which disqualified them from being classified as floorboards. And that caused your sister’s trembling?” Claudio surmised.

“Basically. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say she reacts to ‘wrongness’ than ‘lies.’”

“I see…”

Claudio gripped his chin and nodded deeply, as if he understood. Bernard let out a relieved sigh when he was released from Claudio’s piercing gaze. Then Claudio looked up again.

“And you seriously think I’m going to believe that?”

Under the force of Claudio’s even fiercer glare, Bernard stopped breathing altogether.

“Bernard?! Are you okay? Breathe, Bernard! Breathe!” Ophelia cried.

Angelo thumped him on the back a few times, and Bernard, finally seeming to remember how to breathe, sucked in a huge lungful of air.

“Angelo, tell a lie.”

“Huh?”

Angelo’s mouth gaped open when Claudio suddenly put him on the spot.

“Hurry up.”

“I’m… a woman.”

Ophelia’s leg twitched so forcefully that her foot came up off the floor. Everyone’s eyes landed on that leg.

“Not such an easily disproven lie. Something that only you know the answer to,” Bruno said, coming up beside Angelo.

“I can’t come up with something on the spot.”

“Is everything going well with Marilyn from the General Affairs Division?” Bruno asked.

“Sure, it’s going well enough…” Angelo replied.

“Hah! Th-That’s a lie. I bet he’s cheating… He has one of those faces!” Ophelia exclaimed, holding down her leg with a trembling hand.

Angelo clutched his chest dramatically and said to a frowning Bruno, “Cheating! Such prejudice! I… If you must know, I was dumped…”

Bruno glanced over at Ophelia and confirmed that her shaking had suddenly stopped. Angelo slumped to the ground, deflated. It didn’t seem he’d be moving any time soon.

“Hm… I see, so she only knows if the words are true or false, not the circumstances. Go on.”

At Claudio’s urging, Samael slapped his hands down on his knees and spoke without hesitation.

“I woke up at 6:00 am this morning and immediately began training.”

Ophelia’s legs began to shiver with faint tremors. He would still be groggy when he first woke up, so it was unlikely he’d immediately begin training.

Samael paused for a moment, then continued. “I ate beef stew for breakfast.”

“First thing in the morning?” Angelo cut in incredulously, but Ophelia’s trembling stopped as suddenly as it had started.

“After returning to my room, I went through the letters that had been delivered.”

“…”

“And then I replied to each of them.”

Shake, shake, shake.

“I drank a cup of black tea.”

Shake, shake, shake.

“After that, I rode my horse to work.”

“…”

“I came directly to the Director’s Office.”

Shake, shake, shake.

“Where I diligently worked all day.”

“…”

Ophelia stopped shaking, and Claudio tilted his head dubiously.

“He’s not diligent.”

“Um, if the individual believes, to their core, that they worked hard, that’s not a lie… Or at least it’s not perceived as one…”

Samael puffed out his chest in response to Bernard’s interjection, which trailed off awkwardly at the end. “I take pride in the diligence of my work.”

“Next, Bruno.”

After being nominated by Claudio, Bruno looked up for a moment as he thought, then slowly turned his gaze toward Ophelia. “My name is Bruno Marquis. I’m the oldest son of an earl. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I-It’s nice to meet you, too.”

Bruno bowed as he finished this greeting, and Ophelia reflexively bowed her head in response. Her legs didn’t shake.

“The director’s name is Duke Claudio Stolarni.”

“…”

“He is extremely kind and friendly.”

Shake, shake, shake.

Both Ophelia’s arms and legs began to shake aggressively.

“He’s always smiling and cheerful…”

Ophelia reached out with unsteady hands to try to steady her legs.

“And when it comes to work, he’s precise and extremely strict.”

While the shaking stopped for a moment, Ophelia took the opportunity to sit back deeply on the sofa.

“He never forgets to show appreciation to his subordinates.”

Just when Ophelia had relaxed, her posture was again disrupted. Bruno’s eyes narrowed a bit, as if he’d started enjoying the situation playing out in front of his eyes.

“He always encourages us to go home on time…”

Ophelia raised the arm she’d been using to desperately clutch the armrest and made a cutting motion in the air.

“And he’s never ever asked us to work on our days off.”

“Eek, p-please, enough already!”

Ophelia had slipped almost completely off the sofa from the force of her shaking. Beside her, Bernard glanced back and forth anxiously between Bruno and Claudio.

“I’ve never heard the director raise his voice in anger.”

When Samael jumped on the bandwagon and added that, Ophelia, who’d been attempting to sit back on the sofa properly, fell on her bottom on the floor. Seeing the tears welling in Ophelia’s eyes from the pain, Angelo’s eyes began to sparkle as he still sat on the floor.

What is he so happy about?

As he watched Ophelia flounder to stand, the wrinkles between Claudio’s brows deepened.

“Hard as it is to believe, it seems she’s telling the truth,” Bruno concluded, and almost in response, one corner of Claudio’s mouth quirked up.

“I got a good understanding of what you lot really think of me.”

“We were only speaking the truth.”

“Ahaha. Director, you try telling a lie, too,” Angelo urged, apparently recovered.

“I do not lie.”

Claudio folded his arms and turned his head away sulkily. Ophelia frowned as she examined her arms and legs, which weren’t trembling even the slightest bit, and then her eyes widened.

There’s a person in this world who doesn’t lie? Without meaning to, Ophelia found herself staring at Claudio as if it were too good to be true.

“Just this once!” Angelo pleaded. “Think of it as an experiment. Can’t you think of anything? What secrets are you keeping from us, Director?”

“This is not the time or place to be exposing secrets,” Claudio said.

“Meaning you now believe you can’t keep anything from Ophelia, either.”

At Angelo’s words, Ophelia’s expression became strained. Bernard, his eyebrows lowered, rubbed her shoulders. After watching the siblings for a silent moment, Claudio opened his mouth.

“What about your own lies?”

“Huh?”

In an instant, Ophelia’s body stiffened.

“Oh, right. Good point,” Bruno agreed, glancing down at Ophelia expectantly.

“Of course, my sister also can’t tell lies. They would make her shake as well,” Bernard stated defiantly, covering for Ophelia, who, while timidly looking back and forth between the men, wasn’t shaking at the moment.

Claudio stared fixedly at Ophelia, determined not to miss even the tiniest suspicious movement, but suddenly he said, “All right, I’ve got just the thing. Wait here.” And then he strode out of the reception room.

Ophelia sighed, relieved to be even momentarily freed from his piercing gaze.

Where did he go?

Claudio didn’t return for some time. While they waited, Ophelia and Bernard grudgingly engaged in polite conversation with Angelo.

“Oi! I could hear your voices from outside.”

“Oh, Director. Where did you go? Did you know Bernie and I are the same age?! Hey, are you even listening?!”

Claudio walked right past Angelo without acknowledging him and sat back down on the sofa. Then he tossed a black box onto Samael’s lap.

“Oh, I see…” Samael muttered, recognizing the box. He opened the lid just enough to slip his hand inside. After a moment of rummaging around, he pulled something out. “Lady Narve, do you know what this is?”

Ophelia leaned forward to examine the item Samael was holding out toward her. In his palm sat a single silver-colored coin.

“Money. It’s a silver coin.”

“That’s right. How about this?”

He reached into the box again and pulled out a brown coin. As she examined it, Ophelia’s hands trembled.

“Huh? Is that counterfeit currency?”

“Oh, well done. It’s visually indistinguishable from the real thing. Okay, next.”

This time, Samael produced a bill. Ophelia’s hands shook. Following this, Samael began taking out coins and bills one after another, seemingly at random, and divided them into two piles on the table based on Ophelia’s reaction or lack thereof.

“This is amazing. She was able to tell the real currency from the counterfeits with 100% accuracy. These are all counterfeits discovered circulating in a certain region and have only just finished being analyzed. Many more are still awaiting analysis, so I’m sure the Forensic Division would be thrilled to have your assistance, Lady Narve.”

Ophelia reflexively recoiled from Samael’s expectant gaze. She hadn’t done anything. She’d simply been shown a bunch of coins and bills, and her body had reacted on its own.

“…Remarkable. This is truly an admirable ability,” Claudio muttered, seeming surprised. Ophelia checked her hands, but they weren’t shaking even a little.

He praised it. This is the first time anyone has ever praised my ability.

As Ophelia pressed a hand to her chest, which felt strangely hot and tight, tears prickled her eyes. At this, Claudio, who’d been observing Ophelia carefully with his arms crossed, suddenly grinned.

His terrifying smile gave Ophelia a very bad feeling.

Chapter 2: Transfer Orders

Chapter 2: Transfer Orders

Notice of Personnel Transfer

The transfer of the following individual(s) to the designated post(s) has been ordered.

Ophelia Narve

To: Ministry of Justice, Director’s Office

From: Ministry of Ceremonies, Architectural Institute,

Repairs Division

OPHELIA stood dejectedly by herself in front of the bulletin board located beside the entrance to the Architectural Institute.

In general, the Architectural Institute wasn’t very crowded, so few people actually viewed this bulletin board. Even so, it seemed that all of those who had seen it had an opinion about Ophelia’s reassignment, ranging from good-natured envy to concern and even bitter jealousy. So many people whom Ophelia had never so much as spoken with before had approached her in a single morning that she had long ago reached her limit for social interaction for the day.

“Ophie, it’s all done.”

“Bernard…”

Bernard came out of the office and called out to Ophelia. The Architectural Institute’s receptionist was a shameless gossip who loved to chatter on and on, and Ophelia found her difficult to be around. That’s why Bernard had acted in her stead to submit the necessary paperwork for her transfer.

“She confirmed that, just as Father said, this is only a temporary transfer, and you’ll be able to come back right after.”

“Really? Bernard…”

Tears welled in Ophelia’s eyes.

“Ophie…” Bernard reached out and wiped away Ophelia’s tears with the sleeve of his shirt.

“…Bernard, did you forget to change out your handkerchief for a clean one again?”

“No! …Today I forgot to bring one at all, dirty or otherwise.”

“I won’t always be around anymore, so make sure you keep a fresh handkerchief on you at all times, okay?”

“Okay, Ophie, I get it.”

Both of them had their shoulders slumped as low as they could go as they slowly made their way back to the Repairs Division.

🌷 🌷 🌷

THE topic of Ophelia’s transfer first arose several days after she and Bernard were brought in to the Ministry of Justice for questioning.

Their father, who’d come home unusually late from work that night, called the siblings into his office and informed them there had been a request for Ophelia to transfer departments. Sigmond laid everything out in a rush to prevent a flustered Ophelia from getting a word in, wearing a cheerful expression that seemed a touch relieved.

“B-But…! I can’t possibly go off somewhere alone without the two of you… There’s no way!”

Ophelia was curled up, face-first, on the floor, crying. Beside her, Bernard wore a pinched expression, as if he’d just eaten something bitter.

“Damn it! So this is what that director’s irritating smirk was about!”

“Bernie, I’ve told you not to speak of the duke that way,” Sigmond sighed, exasperated, leaning his chin on his hand with his elbow propped up on the desk. “His Grace came to speak with me personally, asking for Ophelia to lend him her assistance. There’s no way I could refuse in that situation.”

“He probably intends to parade Ophelia out in front of a bunch of thugs and use her to gauge whether their testimonies are true or not. We can’t let her be subjected to that kind of thing!”

“I asked about that as well. I don’t know the details, but it seems Ophelia will not have to meet with the suspects directly. I’ve been told that this will be a temporary reassignment just until they resolve a case that’s currently giving them some trouble.”

“We can’t trust that he’ll keep his word about either of those things.”

With tears still rolling down her cheeks, Ophelia sniffled as she nodded emphatically in agreement with Bernard’s statement. Their father, seeing how opposed the two of them were to the idea, frowned and let out a sigh.

“Ophelia, it’s about time you learn to speak with other people properly. You think so too, don’t you, Bernie?”

With a strangled intake of air, Bernard cast his eyes about evasively, neither confirming nor denying it. “Regardless, the Ministry of Justice is certainly not the place for that…” he muttered.

“Ever since Duke Stolarni took over as Director of the Ministry of Justice, almost no one has been able to join using their connections as leverage. All employees have passed a stringent exam and interview process to get hired. And by its very nature, security at the Ministry of Justice is very tight. In short, it’s a perfectly safe and respectable place to work.”

Does that mean that airheaded guy, Angelo, passed this ‘stringent exam and interview process’?! Ophelia tilted her head to the side dubiously.

“Ophie, give it a try; that’s all I’m asking,” Sigmond said. “I made the duke promise that, if you really can’t stand it, he’ll let you return to the Architectural Institute.”

“Waaagh, I already know I won’t be able to stand it…!” she wailed.

“Stick it out for a little while. If you keep clinging on like this, Bernard will never be able to get married. It’s pathetic that he doesn’t so much as have a prospective fiancée at his age, don’t you think?”

“Urk!”

Honestly, Ophelia had also been worrying about this. However, she’d been pretending not to notice, given that she was unable to leave the house without her brother.

“He doesn’t have any prospects because he isn’t popular.”

“Ouch, talk about telling me how you really feel, Ophie…”

Seeing that Ophelia wasn’t trembling in the slightest after saying this dealt a heavy blow to Bernard, who covered his face with both hands.

“Bernie’s not the only one,” Sigmond said. “The same goes for you, too, Ophie. You’re going to have to marry sooner or later, my girl. I’m not going to live forever, you know.”

“Wagh! Father, don’t die!”

“I’m not dying anytime soon. But the fact remains that you’re certainly going to outlive me. I won’t be able to protect you, so you need to start trying to find your own way.” Sigmond gently wiped away Ophelia’s tears as she clung to his arm. “You too, Bernie. It’s time you start thinking seriously about your own future.”

“But—”

“But nothing. It’s already decided. The official transfer order will be published in a few days, so both of you start preparing.”

After that, Ophelia was chased out of her father’s study and spent the next few days crying and praying that the transfer would be cancelled, but just as her father had predicted, the official transfer order was posted on the bulletin board when she arrived at work one morning. The thought that this same document was also posted on the bulletin board in the Ministry of Justice made Ophelia’s stomach twist with anxiety.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll find you so useless that they’ll kick you out after the first day.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right. That’s exactly what will happen.”

Bernard was being terribly rude, but at this point, Ophelia didn’t care. She would much rather be deemed useless than end up shaking until she collapsed and got all scraped up, over and over again.

The Ministry of Justice was close to the center of the Royal Palace complex. As usual, Ophelia rode over in the carriage with her father and brother, but starting today, she would get out first, and the men would continue on to the Architectural Institute on the far side of the complex.

From the carriage’s window, Bernard was looking down at Ophelia uneasily. It was hard being left here all alone while the two of them went to someplace so far away that they needed a carriage to get there. It was really, really hard. Already tears were welling in Ophelia’s eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment.

Ophelia stood in front of the gate until the carriage disappeared into the distance, but then she wiped away her tears and headed into the building. It wouldn’t do to be late on her very first day. Just before passing through the front door, Ophelia paused to check her outfit, straightening the collar and sleeves of her jacket.

Ophelia was secretly quite fond of the Ministry of Justice uniform that had been sent over in advance for her to wear. The slightest things often made her shake to the point of falling over, so she was happy this uniform came with pants. This way, no matter what kind of embarrassing pose she ended up in, no one would see her underwear when she fell over, and she wouldn’t scrape her knees. And the fact that the pants were capri-length made them feminine and cute. The durable, long skirt of the Repairs Division’s female uniform was ugly and drab.

But because it was her first day, Ophelia chose to wear the skirt option included with the uniform set.

When Ophelia stepped into the building, a familiar young man was standing in the foyer. He had black hair cut cleanly across at shoulder length and obsidian eyes. If she wasn’t mistaken, this was Claudio’s subordinate, Bruno.

“Good morning, Lady Narve.”

“G-G-Good morning. I-I-I’m looking forward to working with you!”

“There’s no need to be so nervous.”

When he was laughing cheerfully, Bruno looked a bit younger than his initial icy appearance made him seem. Ophelia wondered if he might actually be close to her age.

“Please, follow me. The Director’s Office is just up the stairs on the far side of this floor. It’s a bit of a walk, but the view from the windows on that side of the building is lovely.”

Bruno considerately adjusted his pace to match Ophelia’s as they walked. It seemed that, for now, this kind gentleman would teach her the ropes. It felt as if a ray of light had appeared to illuminate what she’d built up in her head to be a dark and terrifying workplace.

“This way, Lady Narve.”

Bruno opened a set of exceptionally large double doors and ushered Ophelia into an expansive room bathed in sunlight with sturdy desks lined up in the center and towering bookcases along every wall, stretching all the way to the ceiling. The bookshelves were packed full of thick, well-worn books, and even more were piled on the coffee table, which was part of a simple seating area set up in one corner of the room for receiving visitors. The room seemed a bit crowded for four men to work in, but considering there was also a table and sofa set up behind the partition for meetings and even a private kitchenette in a small adjoining room, Ophelia supposed the space was sufficient.

“Good morning, Lady Narve,” Samael called out cheerfully. He was sitting diagonally in his chair, his long legs crossed at the ankle.

“G-G-Good morning… I’ll be w-w-working with you from tod—”

“Morning, Ophelia!”

“Angelo, Lady Narve was in the middle of speaking.”

“Bruno, you lucky dog! I wish I could’ve gone to meet Ophelia at the door.”

“If you have time to be jealous of Bruno, finish up the paperwork that was due yesterday.”

Just as she’d done the last time they met, Ophelia let their energetic banter roll over her as she glanced furtively at their outfits. They all wore the same black Ministry of Justice uniform, but the shirt Samael wore beneath was flashy, with multiple adornments and a ruffled cravat tied around his neck. Claudio and Bruno wore simpler shirts that nonetheless were obviously expertly tailored and made of high-quality material, with neckties finishing off the look. Ophelia was surprised to see that Claudio, despite being a duke and the king’s younger brother, was wearing the same uniform as everyone else. At the Architectural Institute, persons of high status were not required to wear the uniform.

Only Angelo was wearing the standard-issue shirt. However, the white shirt looked intentionally mussed, with the top few buttons undone and no necktie. He also had his jacket open and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, making it look, upon first glance, as if he weren’t even wearing the uniform.

Samael, noticing Ophelia glancing back and forth between Angelo’s uniform and her own, gave a strange smile. “Lady Narve, you looked lovely in the green, but I do believe black suits you even better. As for Angelo over there, he’s a slob, so don’t use him as a reference.”

“I was just noticing how everyone expressed their own individuality…”

Angelo stood abruptly, making a loud, seemingly intentional noise as he did. “Ophelia, you’ll be sitting right here between Bruno and me. Feel free to ask me about anything you don’t understand.”

“Please don’t trust anything Angelo tells you,” Bruno cautioned. “Oh, but I suppose you’ll know if he’s just making up random answers, won’t you, Lady Narve? In any case, I’ll be your direct supervisor.”

Despite feeling somewhat uneasy over Angelo’s general unreliability, Ophelia was internally relieved. The fact that no part of her body was currently trembling was proof that he was genuinely welcoming of Ophelia’s arrival.

At Bruno’s urging, Ophelia moved toward her new seat. Just as she passed Angelo’s desk, her knees wobbled slightly.

“What’s this? Don’t tell me… Did being close to me make you weak in the knees, Ophelia?”

“No! Er, I mean… A small tremor like this… Probably means your desk is broken somewhere, Lord Angelo…”

“Wow, you can even pick up on things like that? Recently, the bottom drawer has gotten stuck and won’t open!” Angelo said with a broad smile, causing everyone’s eyes to focus on Ophelia. Even Claudio looked up from his work, having been reading over paperwork at his desk at the far end of the room, away from the main cluster of desks. Ophelia felt suddenly paralyzed under the force of his glare-like gaze. In an attempt to cover up for this, she frantically set down the bag she’d been carrying and took out a long ruler from inside.

“If you’ll excuse me for just a moment…”

Ophelia slipped the ruler into the gap of the defective drawer and wiggled it about in a practiced manner. After several attempts, she felt it catch on something.

“All right, I think it will open now.”

“Really?”

Angelo slowly pulled the handle, and despite having been stuck for ages, the drawer rolled open without issue.

“Wow, thanks! You’re really good at this.”

“I’ve been working in the Repair Division, after all…”

Ophelia smiled happily in response to Angelo’s praise. Claudio, who’d silently observed the exchange, found his eyes inexplicably captivated by her smile.

Angelo began pulling everything out of the drawer. There was a penlight missing its cap, a dirty towel, and a crumpled desk liner. It was most likely this desk liner that the drawer had gotten caught on, preventing it from opening. These items were stuffed into a bag, transforming them from “nameless items” into the clear designation of “trash.”

The last item tossed into the trash bag was a cookie with green mold growing on it.

“Ew, yuck! Don’t you dare try to stuff that into the trash can in here. Take it straight to the incinerator outside!” Bruno covered his mouth and nose with one hand, face twisted in disgust, and used the other hand to make a flicking gesture at Angelo, bidding him to immediately take the offending garbage out.

“But, but, but! This is the first and only cookie Marilyn ever gave me…”

“Who cares?! Get rid of it!”

“A moderately popular guy like you wouldn’t understand, but this is a precious memory.”

“What the heck is moderately popular? And, anyways, that’s no longer a cookie—it’s a breeding ground for pathogens.”

“How cruel!”

With an exaggerated sigh, Claudio finally spoke. “Angelo, go throw that away in the incinerator. And when you get back here, you’re to clean out every drawer in your desk. See that it’s done before the end of the day today.”

“I don’t have time to finish such a big project in one day!”

Claudio frowned fiercely and, without further argument, returned to his paperwork. When Angelo muttered to himself, “Oh, so that’s where that went!” Claudio’s head snapped back up, and he shouted, “NOW, Angelo!”

Even though she wasn’t the one being yelled at, Ophelia reflexively jumped at the volume of his voice.

“Oh… Oh my…” she rambled.

“Hey, you.”

“Oh, goodness…”

“Are you listening to me?! Ophelia Narve!”

“Eek!”

Samael gave his boss a pointed glare, causing Claudio to set down his pen and fold his arms grumpily. Then, at a slightly lower volume, he again addressed Ophelia, who was standing ramrod straight with tears in her eyes.

“Starting tomorrow, you’ll sit in on interrogations. You don’t have any other duties aside from that. As long as you don’t get in the way, I don’t care what you do with your time. Bruno, give her a tour around the Ministry.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ophelia set her bag on her desk and hurried to follow Bruno. When she glanced back over her shoulder, she found Claudio had returned to his paperwork, and Samael was waving goodbye from his desk beside Claudio’s.

🌷 🌷 🌷

CLAUDIO watched Ophelia’s retreating figure as she muttered a parting greeting and hurried out of the room. The bag she’d set on her desk was almost comically large, especially for a noblewoman. Based on the fact that she’d pulled a ruler out of it, he could only imagine what other repair tools she was carting around with her in that thing.

Is she always like that? I’m not sure if I should call it kindness or meddling, but… Why would she go out of her way to do something like that for someone who might as well be a complete stranger?

Claudio rubbed his temple. Samael had pestered him with repeated reminders to be nice to Ophelia. Furthermore, he’d given his word to Earl Narve to take good care of the precious daughter he was entrusting him with, so he couldn’t very well treat her the same as Angelo and the others. She hadn’t been here more than a few minutes before he’d broken his own self-imposed guidelines by shouting in her presence, but… He’d just have to be more careful from here on out.

🌷 🌷 🌷

OPHELIA walked along leisurely, listening as Bruno explained each area of the Ministry of Justice.

“The cases that are elevated to the Director’s Office involve highly ranked aristocrats. Such persons won’t deign to speak with mere commoners, you understand. You are aware that the director is the king’s younger brother, right?”

“Yes, so I’ve heard.”

“In reality, he’s the second most highly ranked person in the entire country after the king, so there’s no one with the authority to oppose him. Furthermore, he’s as strait-laced as they get, so bribery doesn’t work with him at all. In some ways, you can say this is the ideal job.”

“I-Is that so…”

After they’d looped the entire Ministry of Justice, Bruno headed toward the staircase leading back up to the Director’s Office, but then he suddenly stopped and thought something over for a moment.

“Lady Narve, before we return, there’s one more place I’d like to show you.”

Ophelia followed obediently after Bruno, who led her into a spacious cafeteria. It was well before noon, but a few people were still scattered across the tables, either on their breaks or perhaps eating an early lunch.

“I’ve been told that you don’t use the cafeteria, but just so you know, this is where it’s located. If you’ll please, come with me.”

Ophelia unconsciously stiffened in anticipation of the trembling she was sure would start any minute, but when Bruno directed her to a small table in an unoccupied corner of the room, her shoulders relaxed. He got two cups of coffee from the drink station and smoothly set them down on the table.

“Is coffee okay with you? I’m afraid the tea here is dreadfully weak.”

“Coffee is fine, thank you.”

Ophelia helped herself to the milk and sugar Bruno had brought over, adding plenty of both to her coffee. She stirred her coffee with a spoon, blew on it a few times to cool it a bit, then took a sip and let out a delighted sigh. Bruno watched with a smile playing about his lips.

“It seems you’re a bit less nervous now. If you have any questions, I’d be happy to answer them.”

“Oh, um… Y-Yes…”

“I’m sure there are some things you find difficult to ask about in the Director’s Office.”

“Umm, well…”

It seemed that Bruno had gone out of his way to secure this chance for Ophelia to speak her mind away from anyone who might overhear. She wanted to ask about a lot of things, and yet her mind went blank, and she couldn’t come up with anything to say. Unaccustomed to speaking face-to-face with someone outside of her family, Ophelia gripped the coffee mug tightly with both hands for emotional support.

Bruno waited patiently for Ophelia to find the right words, never once hurrying her along. His bearing as he brought the coffee mug gracefully to his lips was refined.

“Um, how long have you been working here, Lord Bruno?”

“It’s been… four years already, believe it or not. I was assigned to the Director’s Office two years ago.”

“I see. If it’s not too rude, may I ask how old you are?”

“I’m twenty.”

“Wow, only one year older than me! So you’ve been working since you were sixteen?”

“That’s right. I skipped a grade and graduated early from the academy.”

“I see. That’s incredible.”

Ophelia had started to feel a sense of familiarity with Bruno since they were both the children of earls and close in age, but it turned out he was actually a genius elite!

Come to think of it, Father said that no one can use their connections to get into the Ministry of Justice now, right? If so, Bruno must be extremely talented to have secured this position at his age. Ophelia felt as if he’d suddenly let go of her hand as she stood precariously balanced on the edge of a cliff.

“Rising to a position in the Director’s Office in just two years… You must be extremely capable, Lord Bruno. I also began working at sixteen but haven’t achieved anything like that…” As she spoke, Ophelia unconsciously drew in on herself, and her gaze dropped to the table.

“I wasn’t assigned to the Director’s Office because of my talents,” Bruno said, his eyebrows drawn together at Ophelia’s body language and a bitter smile twisting his lips. “I was working tirelessly, focused on maximizing efficiency as much as possible in order to deal with the mountain of paperwork that came through the division where I worked every day, but apparently that didn’t fit in well with the methods employed by those around me… Before I knew it, not only my coworkers but also my supervisors had started to draw away from me. Rather than boosting productivity, it only brought down the morale of the entire division. As a result, I was transferred to different divisions several times.”

Essentially, Bruno was so talented that it made those around him uncomfortable. It didn’t matter if one was incredibly skilled or completely ordinary; life was hard for everyone. That heavy fact made Ophelia want to run home and hide in her bed.

“No matter where I went, it was only a matter of time before I’d be forced out again,” he explained. “Then the director invited me to work in his office. He doesn’t care how I go about my work so long as it gets done, and he is equally unpleasant to everyone. The director took me in when no one else had any use for me.”

“I-I see…”

That grouchy director…? I assumed he was handed his position based solely on his high status, but it seems he actually has a sharp eye for judging people’s character… Ophelia couldn’t help being impressed in spite of herself. Of course, that didn’t change the fact that she found his broody expression downright terrifying.

“Um, I realize it’s presumptuous of me to speak as if I could relate to your experiences, but…” Ophelia clenched her hands tightly, fingers warm from holding onto her coffee mug, and spoke hesitantly. “Because of this strange ability that I have no control over, I understand the pain of being shunned by others. Oh, um, but… I think you are very brave for not running from it, Lord Bruno.”

When Bruno, his eyes widening slightly, adjusted his position, Ophelia got a glimpse of the people behind him staring at them curiously.

Lord Bruno sat there intentionally to shield me from prying eyes!

Ophelia blinked and found that Bruno had placed one hand on his chest, wearing a soft smile.

“Thank you very much. Your praise makes me especially happy, since I know you are unable to lie.”

Seeing Bruno, who was normally so cool and reserved, become emotional caused Ophelia to straighten up nervously. “Umm, so does that mean that the others were also scouted by the director?” she asked.

“No, that’s not the case. Angelo is a commoner, but his parents and siblings are all famous scholars, so the entire family is a bit strange. He doesn’t have any interest in things outside his own specialization, either, so as you’ve seen, he doesn’t have the best manners. He used to work for the division responsible for investigating ordinary criminals, where he specialized in torture.”

“…What?! T-Torture…?!” Ophelia squeaked.

“He was a treasured employee with a very high confession rate, but the way he tortured suspects with a smile led his coworkers to become concerned he might be mentally unstable, so he was transferred to the Director’s Office before he could become entirely morally bankrupt. It’s best if you don’t mention Angelo’s previous position in front of him.”

“O-Okay…”

That Angelo, with his fluffy blond hair, doe-like eyes, and angelic appearance, actually specialized in torture… Ophelia wished that now, of all times, her hands would shake to disprove this claim.

“While I’m at it, I’ll give you some pointers for dealing with the director,” Bruno said.

“Don’t tell me he has an even more shocking backstory than Lord Angelo…”

“The director hates lies and lip service, and if anyone dares to mention his beauty, he’ll become as furious as a raging fire. The reason he grew out his pretty pink hair is because, when it’s cut short, it becomes wavy and unruly, with pieces poking up randomly in a way that looks even more adorable. There’s a large age gap between the director, who’s currently twenty-seven, and His Majesty the King. If I had to sum him up, the director is a very direct person, which also means he’s pretty easy to understand. Please take care not to take care with how you behave around him.”

“How troublesome…” Ophelia sighed.

This is bad. As I thought, the Director’s Office is full of scary people.

“Um, what about the assistant director…?” she asked.

“Lord Samael? He’s exactly as he appears, so there’s nothing in particular to warn you about when it comes to him.” Bruno elegantly sipped his coffee, somehow without making a single unsightly slurping noise.

I see… It seems that the kidnapper might actually be the most normal of them all…

“Samael is the same age as the director, and the two of them are milk brothers,” Bruno added. “Even so, he’s always getting on the director’s bad side and being shouted at on a near-daily basis.”

“…”

Still holding the coffee mug in both hands, Ophelia tilted her head back to look up at the ceiling.

I want to go back to the Architectural Institute…

I miss my only coworkers being a nail remover and a tape measure…

“Oh, there’s one more thing…” Bruno said as almost an afterthought, cupping his chin with one hand and tilting his head back slightly to gaze off into the distance. “Your ability is incredible. We’re very glad you’ve joined us.”

After he said this, Bruno met Ophelia’s eyes with a mischievous smile.

Ophelia froze with her mouth open in shock, her cheeks visibly reddening by the second. She didn’t even have to look to know that her hands weren’t shaking at all.

I want to go back to the Architectural Institute… But I guess it might be okay to stay here a little longer.

She’d thought he’d let go of her hand on the edge of a cliff, but she’d been wrong. He’d actually taken her hand and pulled her up onto the ledge.

When Bruno stood and suggested they head back, Ophelia hurried to follow him.

🌷 🌷 🌷

TODAY, Ophelia would finally be joining her first interrogation.

She’d chosen to wear the uniform pants, anticipating that she’d most likely take quite a few tumbles before the day was through. The moment he saw her, Samael looked shy and told Ophelia she looked cute. Since her body didn’t shake at all, Ophelia could only conclude that he, at least, genuinely believed that. Personally, Ophelia thought “cute” was pushing it a bit, but at least it seemed safe to say she didn’t look weird.

Ophelia, not realizing that her mouth had softened into a faint smile, stroked the embroidery along the hem of her pants. Bruno’s words were still replaying in her head.

In any case, once I finish this assignment, I’ll head back to the Architectural Institute. I’m definitely going back. Still, a large part of her longed to live up to the expectations of people who said they needed a useless person like her. I’m going to do my best with this interrogation!

…Not that I have even the slightest clue what I’m supposed to do!

Ophelia stood abruptly, her hands clenched into determined fists.

“It’s about time to get going, Ophelia,” Angelo said, his wide eyes crinkling kindly as he looked at her. Then he unceremoniously chucked a pen and a notebook into a small tote bag.

“Um, what do I need to bring with me?” she asked.

“Mmm, I don’t think you’ll need anything. Right, Bruno?”

Bruno, who was holding a map in one hand and flipping through paperwork with the other at his desk next to Ophelia, raised his head. He glanced at the wall clock, then nodded slightly. “Yes, Lady Narve, all you need to bring is yourself.”

Immediately after responding, Bruno looked back at the map and returned to flipping through the documents. Claudio and Samael had already headed over to the private interrogation room assigned to the Director’s Office. It seemed Bruno would be staying behind today to man the office.

“All righty, let’s go!” Angelo announced cheerfully.

“O-Okay!”

The interrogation room was on the third floor. Angelo opened the first door they came to at the top of the stairs and ushered Ophelia inside. The only thing in the small room was a table surrounded by four chairs.

“Is this where we’ll conduct the interrogation?” Ophelia asked.

“Oh, that’s right; you’ve never been inside the interrogation room before, huh? The interrogation room is on the other side of the room next to this one.”

“The room on the other side of the room next to this one…?”

Then what is this room for? Storage? The interrogator’s break room?

Unsure of what she should do or where she should position herself, Ophelia looked around the room anxiously. Her eyes landed on Angelo, who scratched his head and then violently yanked open a door on the opposite side of the room.

“Over here, come on. We just need to watch from here.”

Ophelia hurried after Angelo, who’d already passed through the door. But when she bustled through after him, she accidentally crashed right into Angelo’s back, where he’d stopped just inside the room.

“Ah! S-Sorry…!

“It’s fine. Ophelia, would you mind standing over there?”

Ophelia looked over to the area Angelo had indicated and did a double-take. Only now did she realize that they were standing in a long, thin, dimly lit room. One entire wall was taken up by a window that looked into the neighboring room.

“On this side, we can see the window, but from the other side, it just looks like an ordinary wall. It’s a really impressive magical item created by the Ministry of the Magical Arts,” he explained.

I see… It seems that they’ll be conducting the interview in that room on the other side of the window. This must’ve been what the director meant when he told Father that I wouldn’t have to meet any of the suspects directly.

The window amazed Ophelia. It was the first magical item she’d ever encountered. But that wasn’t what surprised her the most. As if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her head, Ophelia instantly snapped back to her senses and turned to Angelo.

“U-Um… Wh-What is that?” Ophelia asked, pointing nervously toward the spot Angelo had told her to stand. A thick mat was laid out on the ground, covered in a plethora of pillows. “Am I supposed to lie down…?”

“Ahaha, you can’t go to sleep! We want you to stand over there and listen in on the interrogation.”

“Pardon…?”

“The suspects we interrogate always lie through their teeth the entire time. We figured it would hurt if you fell on the hard floor, so we prepared some padding.”

Ophelia’s eyes widened with shock. She couldn’t believe that group of irreverent guys had gone out of their way to do something like this for her.

“Thank you very much,” she said. “Did you do this yourself, Lord Angelo?”

“That’s right! Er… Well, I suppose I should admit that it was on the director’s orders. When we were testing your lie-detecting abilities the other day, he saw how you fell off the couch and got worried.”

“The director was… worried?!”

“He ordered me to fix up this room to protect your knees. I got the mat from the palace guards’ training area and the pillows from the on-duty nap room. All you have to do is use the director’s name, and they’ll let you take whatever you want.”

Come to think of it, Claudio had been glaring at Ophelia with wrinkles between his brows at the time. Maybe he was actually an unexpectedly kind person after all? Based on the broody expression he was always wearing, he didn’t look like he was worried about the welfare of others, but…

Ignoring how this news affected Ophelia, Angelo pushed back the hair over one of his ears, revealing a silver cuff. “This is another hella badass magical item the Ministry of the Magical Arts created. It allows you to communicate discreetly with the person wearing the matching cuff.”

“That’s certainly, um… hella badass? Indeed.” Ophelia peered curiously at the cuff on Angelo’s ear, causing him to chuckle. “Is that what the Ministry of the Magical Arts does, create tools such as this?”

“Hm, how to explain the Ministry of the Magical Arts… Well, only those who possess magical powers can join the ministry, and they do use their magic to create useful items.”

“Um… Why don’t you just get them to use their magic to make the suspects confess, then?” she asked.

“Well, from what I’ve heard, magic that affects the mind is really scary. There are often terrible aftereffects, and in extreme cases, the subject’s mind could be broken entirely. Not only are such methods inhumane, but the confession would not be considered credible, either. The person casting the spell could just as easily manipulate the suspect to say whatever they want, and we would have no way of telling it apart from the truth.”

“I see.”

“In particular, the current director is very concerned about false convictions. He’s a very conscientious person.” Angelo flashed a goofy grin and reached up to fiddle with the ear cuff.

Does he always watch the interrogations from this dark room? He seems very accustomed to all this…

If the interrogation doesn’t go according to plan, will he join in? With his implements of torture…

“Hella badass…” she repeated.

I absolutely don’t want to let it come to that, not least of all because I don’t want to witness such a thing! I’ll make use of this soft space and keep going no matter how many times I fall over, if that’s what it takes!

Ophelia nervously wrung her hands together in front of her chest and gave herself a bit of a pep talk.

“Okay, all set here.” It seemed that Angelo was communicating with someone via his ear cuff. He grinned when he noticed Ophelia staring blankly at him. “Ophelia’s all set, too.”

The door opened in the room on the other side of the window, and two burly men who looked like soldiers entered. They both wore the Ministry of Justice’s black uniform with leather bracers and leg guards layered on top, and each had a sword hanging from a belt fastened around their waist.

The two men circled the small room, furnished only with a large, sturdy-looking table, a sofa on both sides, and a backless stool on the side closest to the room’s only exterior window, which, despite being small and higher up on the wall, provided a glimpse of the world outside. Once the two men had confirmed whatever they’d come to check for, they left the room again.

A short while later, the same two men returned, leading a man with graying hair slowly into the room. He limped a bit as he walked, but his bearing as he sat down on the sofa was refined and dignified. Furthermore, his fancy clothing identified him as an aristocrat. The man was sitting facing Ophelia. She could see his gaze roving around the room busily, but he didn’t notice Ophelia and Angelo watching him. The two men who’d led him into the room took up positions on either side of the sofa, as if standing guard.

“Ophelia, you just keep your eyes on that man, got it?”

“O-Okay.”

Angelo twirled a pen absently in his hand as he responded to Ophelia’s whispered answer, “They can’t hear you in here, so you don’t have to keep your voice down.”

“So far, nothing appears to be off,” Angelo observed based on Ophelia’s demeanor and lack of shaking.

“No, not that I can tell…”

Angelo began writing in his notebook. Ophelia took a quick peek and was surprised he had unexpectedly nice penmanship.

The door burst open, and Samael strode into the room with a serious expression. Claudio filed in behind him. Claudio’s eyes flicked over to the man in the chair, who hissed in a breath through his teeth.

“Now then, this is our second meeting, so I’m hoping you’ll feel like talking this time,” Samael said as he sat down on the opposite sofa, but the man merely looked down at the ground silently. He had his tightly folded hands resting in his lap, and the tension in his shoulders was easy to see even from here.

Claudio looked outside through the small window, then, with his hands in his pockets, he crossed the room to sit down on the stool and cross his legs. From there, he stared unflinchingly at the suspect.

“No comment, eh? I suppose you do have the right to remain silent, but as long as you do, we won’t be able to allow you to go home.”

Samael sank back against the back of the sofa, raised his arms, and laced his fingers together behind his head. This shifted his hair just enough that it revealed the tip of one of his ears, where he was wearing a cuff identical to Angelo’s. Ophelia couldn’t see his face since he was sitting with his back to them, but based on the nobleman’s nervous expression, she was willing to bet he wasn’t smiling.

Lord Samael might actually be a very scary person…

Ophelia was staring unconsciously at Samael’s ear cuff when Angelo poked her arm.

“You’re supposed to be looking at the suspect, not at the assistant director.”

“I’m sorry!”

“It’s fine.”

He caught me zoning out! What’s wrong with me, slacking on the one and only task I’ve been given…?!

Ophelia clutched onto the window frame and forced herself to concentrate. She still wanted more than anything to return to the Architectural Institute, but she certainly didn’t want to be sent back in disgrace because she’d been useless.

Ophelia concentrated on the nobleman whose eyes were wandering over the table with his mouth firmly shut, but no part of her body so much as twitched.

Despite the wall separating them, there should be no impediment to Ophelia’s ability at this distance. In the past, her hands had shaken just from walking past a room with something broken inside it. But would the same rule apply to people? Given how doggedly she’d avoided human contact, Ophelia couldn’t say for sure.

Just as she was beginning to worry, Samael spoke again.

“Let’s change the question. Earl, are you plotting something?”

“…”

Ophelia’s left hand twitched. With a glance at Ophelia, Angelo muttered something.

“Have you let foreigners illegally enter the country one after another for some purpose? If you refuse to answer, I will take that as confirmation.”

“…I haven’t done anything…” The nobleman spoke for the first time, and his voice set off tremors in both of Ophelia’s hands. “I brought them here to work in a factory in my province, but they ran off. I planned to take care of their paperwork after they’d all arrived at the factory. That’s all…”

All at once, Ophelia’s knees folded. She reached for the window frame with both hands, but they were shaking too badly to grasp onto it, and she landed hard on her bottom on a conveniently placed pillow.

“Are you okay?!”

Angelo crouched down and peered into Ophelia’s face. However, probably because he needed to observe her condition without interfering, he didn’t offer her his hand. He also couldn’t completely conceal a trace of amusement on his face.

Ophelia nodded in reply and went to stand, but the hand she’d tried to brace herself with slipped out from under her, and this time she plowed face-first into the mat.

Thank goodness I went with pants today!

“Oh, oh my…”

“Ophelia keeps falling over and can’t get back up.”

Cutting a glare at Angelo as he calmly relayed her predicament, Ophelia clutched onto the wall and somehow dragged herself to her feet. She held tightly onto the window frame and peeked through the window, finding the previously antsy nobleman now bristling with anger, beet-red, and glaring furiously at Samael.

“I haven’t done anything wrong!” the nobleman insisted with such conviction that it was hard to reconcile him with the meek man he’d originally presented as.

“…The shaking has stopped.” Angelo’s calm voice rocked Ophelia, who hadn’t even realized that she’d stopped shaking.

He’s right… Which means that man isn’t lying.

“I see. We searched your factory, but it didn’t seem to be so understaffed as to require bringing in foreign laborers.”

The nobleman’s mouth twisted in displeasure at Samael’s calm, probing statement. “Th-That’s… I was planning to have them work on a new venture that I’m starting.”

Again, Ophelia’s legs began shaking. She clung to the window frame in a desperate attempt to stay upright, so when she ultimately fell, her knees hit the hard ground just past the edge of the mat.

“Ow, that had to have hurt.” Angelo’s delighted grin was in stark contrast to his concerned tone.

Did Samael hear Ophelia’s squeal of pain via the ear cuff Angelo was wearing? It seemed likely based on the deep sigh he heaved.

“So that’s how it is, is it? Fine then, you can take advantage of our hospitality for as long as you like.”

“Enough already! Who do you think I am?! How dare you keep me in a dungeon like some petty criminal!”

“You’ve been cooling your heels in style in a luxurious room used exclusively for aristocrats. If you want to see a real dungeon, we’d be happy to relocate you to the underground cells with the other criminals. Those are not nearly so nice, don’t you agree, Director?”

Claudio, who looked the most elegant of them all despite sitting in the simplest chair, glared at the nobleman with narrowed eyes. Immediately, all color left the man’s face.

“You won’t be released from custody until I’m satisfied of your innocence. You’re stuck here until your name is cleared. We’re done for today; take him away.”

The two guards nodded and led the man from the room, framing him on both sides. The moment the door closed behind them, Samael turned to look at the window behind him.

“Very nicely done, Lady Narve! This is really incredible.”

“Good job, Ophelia!” Angelo added.

“Huff…Huff…” Ophelia sank to the floor in relief and hugged one of the pillows to her chest.

Am I going to be this exhausted every day from now on?

“Let’s head back to the Director’s Office for now. Can you stand?”

This time, Angelo lent her his hand, helping Ophelia slowly to her feet. Ophelia winced when a twinge of pain shot through her left knee, probably from where she’d fallen the last time.

“It looks like the mat’s not long enough. I’ll go get another one later.”

“…You seem to be enjoying this,” she grumbled.

“What?! Not at all! I feel terrible that you were injured while helping us!” Angelo became flustered and quickly pasted on a sad face, which only caused Ophelia to tremble again.

“…You really were enjoying it…”

“S-Sorry… I just thought you looked so cute when you were in pain…”

Angelo gave a sheepish laugh, but he wasn’t lying. Now that she’d stopped shaking, Ophelia straightened her posture and ran her hands through her hair, trying to tame it.

“Are there more interrogations scheduled for today?” she asked.

“There are, but whether you will sit in is up to the director and assistant director.”

“Oh?”

Angelo removed the ear cuff, put it into its case, and slipped the whole thing casually into his pocket.

The assistant director praised me, but all I did was shake like a leaf! I doubt it was really all that useful…

And what about the director? What did he think? What will I do if he says they don’t need me after all?

The image of Claudio’s beautiful face in profile as he gazed out the small window was burned into the inside of Ophelia’s eyelids. With anticipation and nervousness warring in her chest, Ophelia exited the room.

🌷 🌷 🌷

WHEN they returned to the Director’s Office, Ophelia iced her knee with the ice pack Bruno handed her. Reclining in her own chair, she listened in curiously to the conversation the others gathered around Claudio’s desk were having.

“The distance was sufficient. She fell on her rear more than once,” Angelo observed flippantly.

“Do you think we should prepare an ear cuff for Lady Narve?” Samael shot back excitedly.

“There’s no need. All she has to do is focus on what the suspect’s saying without being distracted by anything unnecessary.”

Claudio unconsciously glanced over at Ophelia, and when their eyes met, she jerked her head to the side, breaking eye contact. Angelo responded lightly, “I suppose that’s true,” and then the three carried on with casual small talk.

“Lady Narve, how is your knee doing?” Bruno asked, having slipped away from the others to check on Ophelia. He tilted his head slightly to the side, causing the hair on that side to touch his shoulder and casting one of his cheeks into shadow. Ophelia looked over at the window and discovered that someone must’ve half-closed the curtains, because she wasn’t in direct sunlight either.

“Th-Thank you for your concern. I’m quite used to falling like this by now, so I’ll be fine.”

“Is that so? We’re really counting on your assistance with the interrogations, so please take extra care not to overexert yourself the rest of the time.”

“…U-Um… Thank you!”

Bruno’s kind words seemed to dull the pain in her knee to the point that she could hardly feel it. Her chest felt hot. Ophelia had to close her eyes tightly to prevent tears from spilling over.

“Here you go, Ophelia. This is for you.”

“Oh? Thank you!”

At some point, Angelo had come up behind Bruno and reached out to press something into Ophelia’s hand, wrapping her fingers around the item. She opened her hand and found she was holding something small, wrapped in white paper packaging. The front of the package was marked with a circle with the letter “M” in the center. Bruno made a surprised face when he spotted the item in Ophelia’s palm.

“This is a special candy produced by the Ministry of the Magical Arts. If you eat it, you’ll recover your energy quickly. You’re probably exhausted after your first interrogation, right? Go on, eat it.”

“They sell them in the shop on the first floor, so they are safe, but…”

“Come on, Ophelia! You’ll completely recover, so go ahead and eat it already!”

“Oi, Angelo…!”

The way Angelo spoke over Bruno in his eagerness to convince her to eat the candy was highly suspicious, but Ophelia was too drained to put up much of a fight, so she obediently tore open the packaging. Pushing aside her trepidation at the alarmingly yellow shade of the candy within, Ophelia steeled her nerves and tossed it into her mouth. The next instant, she cringed and nearly spit it back out. It was unbearably sour.

“Ahaha, so cute! You always seem to react just as I expected. You really are my ideal woman, Ophelia!”

“Angelo, your habit of teasing the girls you like is getting excessive.”

“Can I call you ‘Ophie’ too?”

Ignoring Bruno’s reprimanding tone, Angelo turned his wide, doe-like eyes on Ophelia in an intentionally adorable, pleading manner. Ophelia had tears in her eyes from the sourness of the candy and couldn’t respond to his question, so she resorted to simply nodding.

Bruno heaved a massive sigh, then glanced at Ophelia’s face and opened his mouth to speak. “I feel terrible for asking, but do you think you’ll be able to join the next interrogation?”

At this, Ophelia straightened her posture so quickly she half-expected to hear a metallic SHING! sound effect. It seemed that the result of their impromptu meeting earlier was that Ophelia had passed muster. She was so happy she could cry.

“Yes! I’ll do it!” Ophelia replied enthusiastically, forgetting about the candy.

“Really? Thank you very much.”

With this, Bruno returned to the director’s desk, dragging Angelo along with him. Claudio glanced over at Ophelia briefly, then returned to his conversation with his subordinates.

🌷 🌷 🌷

ANGELO went ahead to retrieve a second mat, leaving Ophelia to make her way to the interrogation room on her own. As she was climbing the stairs, she passed two women from another division.

“Oh, isn’t that her…?”

“Yeah, the one who was assigned to the Director’s Office.”

“I wonder what kind of connections she used to get a prime position like that.”

“She doesn’t look like much. It couldn’t have been due to her skills, that much is for sure.”

The two women watched her with narrowed eyes, speaking loud enough that they must’ve known they would be overheard. They used the files they were holding to daintily conceal the lower half of their faces.

Not this again…

It seemed that things were not much different here than at the social events she hated attending. Ophelia’s body didn’t tremble at all. This vitriol was the two women’s genuine feelings.

Ophelia shrank in on herself and turned to look, but the women had already turned away from her and moved on to discussing other things. Ophelia sighed in relief.

This work may be fulfilling, but it looks like I won’t be able to stay here long, after all.

When Ophelia entered the smaller interrogation room, Angelo was already seated at the table with a notebook open in front of him. A lot of numbers were written on the page, and Angelo was jotting down calculations in a second notebook off to the side, then coloring in one section at a time in the first notebook. Ophelia didn’t understand the calculations at all, but her estimation of Angelo rose a bit. There was no doubt that, despite everything else, he was incredibly intelligent.

“Mr. Angelo, is that a coloring book?”

“It’s a puzzle. Hey, take a look over there. What do you think?”

Ophelia looked where Angelo had pointed and saw that two mats were now laid out on the floor in the space behind the window, and the number of pillows seemed to have doubled as well.

“I snatched all the pillows from the on-duty nap room, so it doesn’t matter how hard you fall; there should be no way you’ll get hurt now!”

“Wow, this is incredible. Thank you very much!”

“Sure thing. Fall over as much as you like!”

“I’ll do my best!”

Angelo put on the ear cuff and said, “Ophie, OK!” and just a moment later, the same two guards led a man into the room on the other side of the window. This man also appeared to be an aristocrat based on his attire, but unlike the previous suspect, his face was already bright red with anger. Even so, once Claudio appeared, the man’s mouth twisted in humiliation, and he fell silent.

Like before, Claudio merely observed from the stool by the exterior window while Samael carried out the questioning. Unlike the first nobleman, this one was talking up a storm. He spoke so passionately that spit foamed in the corners of his mouth, with droplets occasionally flying through the air when he was particularly worked up, which caused Samael to lean back in his seat with a disdainful expression. The man loudly proclaimed his innocence repeatedly, but nearly every word out of his mouth was a lie. Ophelia gave up trying to resist and simply lay back on the mat, clutching one of the pillows tightly.

Even so, with Ophelia’s ability, she could only be certain of the fact that he was lying and therefore guilty of something, but she had no way of knowing what that might be.

Samael had a finger pressed to his lips and let out a long “Hm…” as he tried to pick his words carefully. What question could he ask that would reveal this man’s objective?

“We know that you enabled foreigners to illegally enter the country and that you were preparing for the illegal exit of someone from the country. A large number of someones, in fact.”

“I’ve already told you! I brought in cheap labor from a neighboring country! Everyone does it!”

“So you’ve said. But we have evidence that suggests that you are bringing a large number of people into the country for some other purpose.”

Just as Ophelia was rising to her feet on the other side of the window, she suddenly tumbled back to the ground.

There’s no evidence.

“What evidence…?”

“Heh, I’m sure you can guess.”

“Hmph, there shouldn’t be any evidence.”

From where she lay prone on the ground, Ophelia’s body gave a sudden jerk that wrenched her forcefully off the ground. Thanks to the mats and pillows, it didn’t hurt when she crashed back down on the floor, but the impact rocked through her body. The delight Angelo couldn’t conceal each time Ophelia cried out “Ahh!” and “Ugh…” was starting to irritate her.

Samael began tapping the tips of his fingers one after another onto the table introspectively, and Claudio moved from his spot by the window.

“Is your objective a revolt against the government?” Claudio didn’t speak loudly, but his even, imposing voice echoed throughout the quiet room.

“I would never do such a thing. I’m a member of this country’s nobility.”

Silence fell over the room for a long moment following the man’s confident statement. The only sound was the rhythmic tapping of Samael’s fingers on the table.

“…Ophie’s stopped shaking.”

Ophelia reached out with one hand to support herself against the wall and managed to stand. When she peeked through the window, the nobleman was muttering.

“I would never betray His Majesty the King. Never would I disgrace myself in such a deplorable manner.”

🌷 🌷 🌷

“THANKS to Lady Narve pointing out all the damaged areas, it’s become remarkably easier to walk through the Ministry of Justice building,” Bruno said as he approached the table in the corner of the office where Ophelia sat beside Angelo, picking at her packed lunch.

“I saw some folks from the Architectural Institute over near the Forensic Division’s office,” Angelo said. “Unfortunately, our man Bernie wasn’t among them. Ophie, you can go say hi to them if you want.”

“No… It’s fine. I, um, can’t really talk to people very well, so I’m not especially close with the other staff from the Architectural Institute…” she admitted.

“Ahaha, is that so? I suppose you do have a tendency to suddenly shake and twitch in the middle of a conversation,” Angelo said.

“Y-Yeah… Exactly…”

“Hmm, then does that mean I’m your first work friend?”

Angelo’s face softened happily, and he lay down on the sofa intended for visitors. Claudio and Samael were still working studiously, not even stopping to eat as of yet. Ophelia couldn’t help but giggle at Angelo’s sheer audacity, her gloomy feelings momentarily forgotten.

“Then that would make me Lady Narve’s first ‘reliable senior coworker,’” Bruno interjected.

“What?! Why do you get to be the senior coworker?! That’s not fair!” Angelo whined.

“In that case, I’m her first ‘nice boss’!” Samael called out from his desk, pointing to himself with his thumb. This time, even Bruno laughed.

“So then, Ophie, the director is your first what?” Angelo asked.

“Huh?!”

Ophelia jumped in surprise when the conversation turned to her expectantly, and she looked over at Claudio. It was impossible to tell from his body language whether or not he was listening, but he had stopped writing and was looking over at Ophelia.

I have to choose my words very carefully here…

“The director is… Um, he’s…”

“He’s your first ‘demon boss,’ right?” Angelo prodded with a shit-eating grin.

“Shut up! If you lot are done eating, stop fooling around and get back to work!” Claudio slammed his fist on his desk, then gripped his pen tightly and dropped his gaze back to the documents in front of him, bristling with irritation.

“But you seem to be able to converse with us normally enough, Lady Narve…” Bruno observed out loud as he opened a bundle of materials. Ophelia’s hands froze midway through packing up her lunchbox, and she visibly drooped.

“Yes, but it’s probably a drag that you can’t even joke around or exaggerate when speaking with me…” she muttered weakly.

“Ahaha, it certainly takes some getting used to! Everyone has things they want to hide and the natural inclination to try and portray themselves in a positive light, after all,” Angelo agreed.

Ophelia sank into herself even further at this, causing Bruno to glare pointedly at Angelo in her defense.

“You need to be a bit more tactful with your words.”

“Impossible! After spending so much time around the director, I’ve lost the ability to conform to social niceties.”

Claudio glanced over at Angelo, who chose that moment to let out a big yawn and reached up to massage his temple, still holding his pen. “You had absolutely no social graces long before coming to work for me.”

“I’ve found the Director’s Office to be a very comfortable workplace!”

Sighing pointedly, Claudio stood. Samael rushed after him as he stormed out of the room.

“We can’t be evasive or withhold information from the director either, so we’re used to it. You can act the same way around us as your family,” Bruno said with a small smile. Ophelia was so stunned that all she could manage by way of response was a reflexive nod.

🌷 🌷 🌷

THE other staff working in the Director’s Office were all out on some business or another, leaving Ophelia alone in the office with Claudio. Ophelia’s status was that of a temporary loan employee who would eventually return to the Architectural Institute. As such, she wasn’t allowed to view classified documents, so when she wasn’t sitting in on interrogations, there wasn’t much for her to do other than clean and organize the office.

Ophelia almost never served tea and coffee, despite this being a common task for secretaries. The reason was simple: if someone thanked her because common courtesy demanded it rather than genuine gratitude, it would make her hands shake, and she might accidentally spill their hot beverage all over them.

When Ophelia finished tidying up and cast about for something else to work on, she spotted Claudio out of the corner of her eye, with one hand pushing the hair back off his forehead, seemingly deep in thought.

Come to think of it, I don’t think the director has eaten lunch yet…

With that in mind, Ophelia decided to try making tea. She felt that the director would be safe enough to serve tea to. He never sugar-coated anything and certainly never lied. When he looked angry, it was because he was, and when he didn’t look angry, he wasn’t. That was it. When he looked tired, he was tired, and when he looked incredulous, he was feeling incredulous. Although she’d never seen it, she assumed that if he ever looked amused, it would be because he was indeed amused. When she considered that he didn’t have a hidden agenda and was actually very easy to understand, Ophelia felt there was no need to be afraid of him. All she had to do was avoid getting too close when he was in a foul mood.

When Ophelia went to the drink station in the adjoining kitchenette, the can of tea leaves for preparing tea was empty. There was, however, a veritable mountain of coffee beans in stock. The drink station was supposed to be stocked by the cafeteria, so why…

Oh, that’s right! Bruno said the tea from the cafeteria was terrible. They must’ve requested only coffee instead…

“Um, Director… I’ve brought you some coffee.”

Claudio looked up from his paperwork when Ophelia set the mug of coffee down nervously on the edge of his desk. Ophelia’s shoulders flinched reflexively, and Claudio’s fierce gaze flickered once to the coffee before returning immediately to the paperwork in front of him.

“Thanks. Sorry for the trouble.”

Ophelia had been prepared for a reprimand, but he’d accepted the coffee much more easily than she’d thought. She bowed her head slightly, then shuffled backwards awkwardly without daring to turn around until she made it to her seat, where she plopped down.

As she’d thought, she was able to serve coffee to Claudio without incident. In her heart, she’d desperately wanted to pump her fist victoriously when she set the mug down on his desk without spilling it. However, she knew that such an unprofessional display would definitely earn her a scolding, so she’d resisted the impulse.

Ophelia fiddled absently with her jacket sleeve and peeked over at Claudio to find he’d finally reached for the coffee. He blew on it once and then brought it to his lips… And made a disgusted face.

“That’s terrible.”

“It is?!”

Ophelia shot to her feet without thinking, and Claudio set the mug back down on his desk with a heavy sigh.

“It’s so weak… What even is this? Are you sure you made it correctly?”

“Um, well, I watched the others make coffee and just copied what I saw them do…”

“Are you an idiot? No one has ever dared serve me such terrible coffee before.” With a disgruntled, half-disbelieving expression, Claudio stood and crossed the room to the door leading into the kitchenette. “Come on, then. I’ll teach you how to make coffee properly.”

“Director, you know how to make coffee?”

“Even I can manage something this simple by myself,” Claudio responded, popping the lid off the can containing the ground coffee beans. His behavior suggested he felt the entire thing was a huge inconvenience, but even so, he angled his body to the side intentionally to give Ophelia a clear view of what he was doing with his hands.

“But you were a prince, weren’t you, Director? It’s really impressive that you know how to do things like this.”

“A prince… Well, I suppose that is how I was raised, but… There’s a large age difference between His Majesty and me, and I abdicated from the line of succession and moved out of the Royal Residence as soon as His Majesty’s eldest son was born. After that, I made a point of doing as much as I could for myself.”

“I don’t think that many aristocrats, even the lower-ranking ones, know how to make coffee.”

“It was easier to just learn to brew my own coffee than to put in the effort to search for a servant who doesn’t lie.”

It seemed he really did prepare his own coffee regularly. With practiced ease, he poured the brewed coffee into two mugs.

The majority of aristocrats can’t even get dressed without assistance…

“People aren’t exactly knocking the doors down trying to gain employment with a prince who will never take the throne. Of course, my reputation for barking at my employees doesn’t help.”

“That’s unfair; you’re not that harsh…”

“I can practically hear your knees knocking together from here.”

“Oh! No, um, this is… Uh…”

“It’s fine. Don’t try so hard to spare my feelings that you fall over.” Claudio grabbed Ophelia’s arm to help stabilize her, and her trembling suddenly stopped. “More importantly, do you understand how to brew coffee now?”

“Yes! I even took notes!”

“If you have nothing else to do, practice making it for the others.”

“Okay!”

Claudio leaned against the counter of the drink station, drinking his coffee. Ophelia followed suit, blowing lightly on her coffee before taking a sip. Claudio watched her closely, his brow furrowed.

“It’s delicious. I could probably drink it even without milk or sugar,” she said. Ophelia held the warm mug with both hands, a soft smile stretching across her face. She didn’t notice the way some of the tension left Claudio’s shoulders at this reaction. “Director, you’re my ‘first person I ever served coffee to.’”

After Ophelia said that, she sensed more than saw a gruff, huffing expulsion of air somewhere above her head. Looking up, she spotted one corner of Claudio’s well-formed lips tugging up just the tiniest bit.

“What kind of title is that…” Claudio turned and headed back into the main office, carrying his coffee mug in one hand.

It had only been for a moment, but it had set Ophelia’s heart beating so hard that her pulse was racing and she couldn’t seem to slow it down. Claudio’s beautiful smile that she’d just witnessed for the first time up close overlapped perfectly in her mind with the fuzzy memory of his elegant appearance at Dominica’s wedding ceremony.

The director really was a prince…

Ophelia pressed her hand over her chest and took several deep breaths, trying to calm her pounding heartbeat. It was a long while before she could leave the kitchenette.

🌷 🌷 🌷

“GOOD work today, Bernard.”

“…You too.”

Bernard headed straight for his desk, not even looking in the direction of the coworker who’d called out to him when he returned to the Architectural Institute from his inspection of that day’s assigned area. He set his bag down on the desk next to his, which had previously been Ophelia’s but now was empty, and let out a huge sigh.

“Is your workload too much without Ophelia around to help?”

“No, that’s not it…” Bernard sighed again and cupped his face in both hands, elbows leaning on the desk. “Ophie just seems to be having more fun than I expected…”

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah…”

Even after Ophelia transferred to the Director’s Office, Bernard’s repair records continued to be among the highest in the division. Being alone meant he had no one to talk to, which in turn allowed him to walk faster, ultimately improving the efficiency of his work.

“I mentally prepared myself for her to come home from work crying every day, but not only did that not happen, if anything, it’s the opposite. She seems really enthusiastic about the new position…”

“You two have always been together, after all. So big brother is lonely, is he? Ahaha.”

“…You may be right…”

“Come on, admit it already!”

His younger sister, who’d always followed along, hiding timidly behind him, had begun smiling as she got out of the carriage and waved them off every morning. She even seemed to have become accustomed to the trousers that, at first, she’d frowned at while repeatedly checking her appearance in the mirror. Bernard had made a point of examining her arms and legs for scrapes and bruises, but there weren’t any, leading him to conclude they must be taking good care of her, at least.

“I guess I just never expected she’d be able to let go of my hand so easily…”

“You’re having an even harder time letting her go than your father, aren’t you? I saw him earlier, and he seemed completely normal.”

“Sigh… I hope Ophie comes back quickly.”

“What you should be hoping for is for your sister to learn to make her own way in the world. Let’s go drinking sometime and take your mind off all this, okay?”

The coworker clasped Bernard on his shoulder before leaving to return to his own division. Once he was alone, Bernard reached out his hand toward the lonely desk beside him that was missing its owner.

Ophie doesn’t need to become friendly with anyone. All the employees in the Director’s Office are aristocrats, except for that one commoner from the family of scholars, right?

I bet they’re all liars.

I don’t want to let Ophie get hurt anymore.

The closer you get to someone, the more it hurts when they inevitably betray you. I’ll spend my whole life protecting Ophie. I decided it back then. I don’t ever want to see her hurt and crying ever again.

Chapter 3: Siblings

Chapter 3: Siblings

ONE overcast afternoon, Ophelia found herself riding alone in a carriage with Claudio. She sat tucked as far into the corner as she possibly could to avoid bumping into his long legs. Of course, she wouldn’t have needed to sit in such a cramped position if Claudio would’ve just angled his legs a bit to the side…

“Have you heard the details of today’s investigation?”

“Yes, Lord Bruno explained it to me.”

“If it was Bruno you heard it from, you should be fine,” Claudio responded, bracing his elbow against the armrest and resting his cheek in his hand as he turned to gaze out the window at the passing scenery.

The two were headed to the National Art Museum.

The case Claudio and the others were working on involved a number of aristocrats facilitating the illegal entry and exit of foreign citizens across national borders. These aristocrats were all of different ranks, and no amount of investigation had uncovered any particular connections between them. Originally, Claudio had suspected they were colluding with another country and planning to overthrow the government, but they hadn’t found any evidence to support that theory. In fact, using Ophelia’s ability, they’d all but disproven it.

But in that case, what were they plotting? All of the nobles identified had been moving unverified individuals into and out of the country, a few at a time, during the same period. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

They hadn’t been able to follow the trail of any of the “laborers” who had allegedly fled after entering the country, but Bruno’s investigation had uncovered an unusually large number of foreigners visiting the National Art Museum recently.

“They’re probably just ordinary tourists, aren’t they?” Ophelia said. “I seriously doubt people who entered the country illegally would boldly show up at an art museum, of all places.”

Claudio fixed Ophelia with a pointed glare. However, the fact that he wasn’t shouting meant that he wasn’t particularly angry. By this point, Ophelia had gotten used to his intense stare and no longer felt afraid.

“At the moment, there isn’t any particularly noteworthy special exhibit going on. All the pieces on display are permanent exhibits that the art museum has been in possession of all along. The museum we’re going to is rather dated, with no significant ‘wow factor’ to draw in visitors,” he explained. “There’s a modern and elegant art museum conveniently located within the Royal City, so there’s no real reason for tourists to bother traveling all the way to this one.”

“What kind of pieces do they have in the permanent exhibits?”

“You grew up in this country and have never been?” Claudio’s eyebrows raised incredulously.

“I try to avoid crowded places as much as possible…”

“Your family is too overprotective. The majority of the artworks the National Art Museum possesses are religious paintings from our country’s national religion, Euvtomeum.”

“Uh-huh…”

“You don’t sound very interested.”

“Are you interested in religion, Director?”

“Not at all.”

“I thought that might be the case.”

“Religion provides guidance for those who feel lost, but it’s not something I require. I’m not lost.”

“…I thought that might be the case.” Ophelia turned to look out the window. She’d never been there before but was pretty sure they would be arriving at the art museum any time now. “Oh! Is that the Cathedral?”

“Based on the fact that you’re even asking, I’m assuming that you’ve also never been to the Cathedral?”

“Only once, when I was very young…” Ophelia removed her hand from the window and looked down at her lap, where she folded her hands together.

Large crowds flocked to the Cathedral every day to offer up their prayers to God. Among these congregants were people with guilty consciences who hoped that praying would absolve them. The sight of such people using pretty words to defend themselves and playing at contrition without truly repenting their actions had left Ophelia a shuddering mess. After that, Ophelia had refused to go anywhere near not only the Cathedral but even ordinary churches. Although the Crown recognized Euvtomeum as the national religion, its practice wasn’t compulsory. And given that her memories of what the private tutor who oversaw her education at home had taught her about the topic were fuzzy at best, Ophelia didn’t know much about Euvtomeum.

“I suppose there’s no reason to visit a place like this if you don’t have any business there.”

Ophelia’s eyes widened at Claudio’s casual remark. She couldn’t believe that the king’s younger brother wouldn’t admonish her for not praying to the national deity, Euvtomeus.

“But the building itself is quite impressive. It’s on the way, so why don’t we stop?” Claudio knocked on the wall of the carriage and ordered the driver to make a stop at the Cathedral.

“Um, if you’re stopping just for my sake, you really don’t have to…” Ophelia said.

“It’s not for you. I haven’t seen the pope in ages. I’d like to talk to him, so you’ll just have to tag along.”

Ophelia glanced at her hands, but they weren’t trembling. It seemed he really was stopping for his own purposes. Ophelia chuckled at the brutal honesty of his statement, and the tension eased out of her shoulders.

The carriage passed through the gates of the Cathedral, and as Ophelia had feared, the grounds were teeming with people. There was no differentiation between the social classes here. Aristocrats and commoners, and even royalty, all passed through the same gates and traveled down the same road.

There were people who’d come to pray for their family’s happiness. There were people who’d come to confess, driven by guilt. There were even people dressed in travel gear who seemed to have come on pilgrimage.

The instant people flooded her line of sight, Ophelia’s knees began clattering together.

“Oi, are you okay?”

Claudio grabbed Ophelia’s arm to stop her from tumbling forward. The people passing by cast suspicious glances at Ophelia’s odd pose as she stood with her arms and legs splayed wide for balance, somehow just managing to stay upright.

He went out of his way to bring me here, and I can’t even take a single step forward! Ophelia sensed Claudio suck in a breath somewhere above her head. She cringed, preparing to be shouted at, but Claudio simply sighed.

“I guess it can’t be helped, then. Here, you can hold on to me.”

Claudio held out his left elbow in a gallant, practiced gesture as if he were escorting her to a ball. Ophelia felt her cheeks burn, and an accompanying heat ignited deep in her chest. A moment later, she hesitantly stopped her hand in midair, partway through unconsciously reaching out to accept the offered support.

“Oh, but, um… I… I think it might be inappropriate to take the arm of someone who has a fiancée…”

Claudio just stared at Ophelia for a long moment in confusion, then lowered his arm when he finally realized she was referring to him.

“Then just hold on wherever you like.”

“But…!”

“You can’t walk by yourself, can you?”

Although she wanted to protest, she realized she didn’t have a leg to stand on, so after considering it for a moment, she reluctantly reached out and gripped the belt of his jacket.

“But, I… I might trip and fall at any moment. I don’t want to cause trouble for you, Director…”

“Listen to me. Are you listening?” With his back still to Ophelia, he turned just his head to look back at her. “I do not lie. Don’t listen to any other voices but mine.”

Claudio’s eyes drilled straight into Ophelia. All she could do was gaze up at him with her mouth slightly open. His words echoing in her head drove out all other sounds.

“Got it?”

“…Yes. …The shaking has stopped.”

Claudio’s eyes widened just the tiniest bit as he looked Ophelia over. Once he confirmed for himself that she really wasn’t shaking, he grinned almost victoriously. The second smile she’d ever seen grace his unfairly handsome face set Ophelia’s heart to pounding ferociously.

“I bet it has.”

Claudio started walking, leaving Ophelia to hurry to keep up. The sight of Ophelia desperately trying not to be left behind by the pace Claudio set, with his much longer legs, again drew the attention of those around them.

“…I probably look like I’m escorting a lost child back to their mother,” he muttered.

“Pant… Pant… I-I’m sorry…”

Seeming to finally notice how out of breath Ophelia was, Claudio slowed his pace just a little.

“It’s not the most direct route, but would you like to take a less crowded path?” he asked.

“…Y-Yes, please,” she said between gasps for air.

“All right, then.”

The two made their way around to the rear of the Cathedral, where there was a desolate garden with only a single bench. The majority of the foliage consisted of weeds, but the paths were neatly cleared so people could walk past, and a waist-high fence encircled the entire garden.

“I can see now that the Cathedral is built upon a hill,” Ophelia remarked.

“Yes, it was gradual, so you wouldn’t really notice, but this whole region is hill country.”

“I bet the view from that hill over there is even better than from here.”

“The view is certainly nice, but that area is a graveyard for the royal family and those associated with them.”

“Eek! A graveyard?!” Ophelia let out an undignified shriek that one would be hard-pressed to believe came from a gently bred noblewoman, her face twisted with fright.

Claudio couldn’t help but chuckle at this spectacle. “You really don’t know anything, do you? As the king’s younger brother, I’m starting to become concerned about the future of this country. Come on, you sit here and rest for a moment.”

After sitting Ophelia down on the bench, Claudio plodded off alone in the direction of the fence. It seemed as if a breeze was blowing up from below over by the fence, because Claudio’s pink hair danced gently around his face. Tall as he was, he reminded Ophelia of the flowering trees she’d seen with her mother in full bloom when she was younger.

That was back when their family still consisted of four members. It must’ve been when they’d gone to visit a relative’s vacation home… Her brother, still a child himself, was running around in the sunny garden. Ophelia was clinging tightly to her mother’s hand, craning her head back so far it felt as if her neck would break in order to look up at the trees. The large pink flowers were so beautiful she almost forgot to blink.

I wonder if Mother would be surprised if I told her I’m working at the Ministry of Justice now, all by myself. Ophelia was zoning out when, all of a sudden, her legs began shaking. She cringed and looked about frantically for the cause.

“Oh! Oh, my! Wh-Whyyy?!”

Ophelia’s arms began shaking as well, and a moment later she slid right off the bench, unable to sustain her upright posture. She ended up splayed out on the ground, her arms managing to break her fall but shaking too badly for her to be able to push herself back up. After a moment, the shaking won out over her meager arm strength, and she collapsed entirely, her cheek landing in the dirt.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Ophelia heard a gentle, calm voice close to her ear. The speaker scooped her up in their powerful arms, but far from being a relief, it only made her shake even harder.

“Oh, oh goodness! Ohhh!” she cried from the physical reaction it caused.

“Are you having some kind of attack? Can you hear the sound of my voice? Do you have any medication with you for your condition?”

With how strongly she was shaking, Ophelia couldn’t make out the other person’s face very well, but based on their voice and what she could see of their clothing, they seemed to be a man, likely a nobleman. This man was the source of her uncontrollable shaking; she was sure of it. What she couldn’t figure out was what possible lie he could be telling to make her shake this badly.

“Hey! Don’t touch her!”

Ophelia heard Claudio shout somewhere nearby, and the next thing she knew, she was being yanked forcefully away from the unknown man. With Claudio supporting her with an arm around her shoulders, Ophelia’s shaking lessened a bit, and she finally got her first glimpse of the other man’s face.

“Claudio…”

This time, the pitch of the man’s voice was just a bit lower than before, and the tone was cold. The man’s eyebrows crept up on his forehead in surprise as he spoke Claudio’s name. He had pin-straight blond hair that reached his collarbone and long eyelashes the same color, framing jade-colored eyes. The man wasn’t remarkably tall, and his slender frame was dressed in high-quality clothing. The cravat wrapped around his neck was secured with a tiepin decorated with a large jewel. Ophelia recognized immediately that this man embodied yet another type of male beauty, different from Claudio’s. As he waited for Claudio’s response, the man seemed melancholy and almost lonely.

“You old dog, Claudio! Having a secret tryst in a place like this…” In contrast to his first impression, the man grinned teasingly at Claudio as he said this.

“Shut up,” Claudio snapped. “She’s my employee. You’re not to go anywhere near her. In fact, get lost immediately.”

“Hmph, that’s not how it looks to me. Shouldn’t we take her to see a doctor?”

“She’ll be just fine as soon as you leave. So get out of here.”

“Fine, fine, I’m going. Take care, miss.”

With an incredulous expression, the man stood. The fact that he was speaking so casually to Claudio could only mean that he was a very highly ranked nobleman with ties to the royal family. Ophelia felt compelled to apologize for her unsightly display, but while she was internally debating whether it would be okay to speak to someone of such a high rank without being addressed first, the man left with a guard who seemed to have come to get him.

“Hey, can you stand on your own?”

“Yes. For some reason, as soon as that gentleman left, my trembling stopped.”

It was only after she’d unwittingly taken the hand Claudio held out to help her stand that Ophelia realized the extent of her situation and let out a horrified gasp. No wonder Claudio’s voice sounded so close! He had his arm wrapped around her back, hugging her shoulders against his body. Ophelia’s eyes widened so far it was a miracle her eyeballs didn’t pop out of their sockets, and then she scrambled away from Claudio. The only reason she didn’t let out a little shriek was that she was too shocked to do so.

“I-I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to cause such trouble for you!”

“Yup, you seem to be back to normal. It’s fine, here.”

With that, Claudio again held out his hand. Ophelia reached out falteringly, and after several awkward pauses, finally forced herself to lightly hold onto just the tips of his fingers. In response, Claudio grabbed her wrist tightly and pulled. Ophelia’s eyes were so wide they must’ve looked almost completely white when he forcefully tugged her to her feet, yet some part of her couldn’t help feeling a tiny bit sad when he immediately released her arm. Once he’d confirmed that Ophelia wasn’t about to fall over again, Claudio opened his mouth as if to speak, but then paused, his face twisting into an uncharacteristically troubled expression.

“…You’d be better off staying away from that guy.”

“Was that gentleman an acquaintance of yours?”

“That was the current head of the Vigatto ducal house, Gian. It’s rare to see him out and about, but… Hmm…” Without saying any more, Claudio cupped his chin in his hand as if deep in thought.

Ophelia had gotten the impression that the two didn’t get along, but she sensed it was probably best not to mention it, so she kept her mouth shut.

The Vigatto ducal house was an old family with a long history, and even Ophelia had heard that the current duke had been so sickly as a child that he’d spent most of his time in bed. Although he’d gotten a bit stronger as he grew older, even after inheriting his title, he didn’t attend any society functions and never showed himself in front of people. They were in a similar predicament, so Ophelia, being as out of touch with the world as she was, only knew of Duke Vigatto by name. Although in Ophelia’s case, she was only pretending to be sick…

The last time she’d shaken so badly that she couldn’t control her body and ended up with dirt smeared on her face had been at that tea party she’d been forced to attend as a child. At that time, it had been because of the large number of aristocratic girls putting on airs and talking themselves up, but that wasn’t the case just now. Duke Vigatto hadn’t said anything offensive at all. Sure, he’d spoken a bit harshly to Claudio, but Ophelia hadn’t sensed animosity directed at her personally. And besides, she’d started shaking even before she caught sight of him. Could this mean that the duke was planning to tell several people’s worth of lies?

But he looked so sad…

Without realizing what she was doing, Ophelia reached up to place her hand on her chest.

The duke had only been here for a brief moment. He appeared suddenly, all by himself, as if out of thin air, and left just as abruptly. And yet he’d left such a strong impression… What kind of person must he be? Ophelia found herself feeling as if the entire exchange had been nothing more than a short, intense dream. But the sensations of the dirt smeared on her cheek and Claudio’s warm hand holding onto her wrist were very real. The only thing that seemed like a lie was Duke Vigatto’s presence…

Only his presence is a lie… Ophelia mouthed the words to herself without speaking them out loud. A presence that gave even Claudio pause… In short, a presence that doesn’t exist in this world…

“Could it be… that gentleman just now was a ghost…?”

“Are you stupid? There’s no way…” Claudio looked down at Ophelia coldly, but suddenly he tilted his head back slightly and gazed off into the distance with a grin. “I suppose it’s not that crazy of an assumption. There is a graveyard right over there, after all…”

“Eek! Director, let’s go quickly! I can walk now!”

Laughing at Ophelia’s panicked state and the tears welling in her eyes, Claudio gazed out over the hill that could be seen in the distance with a hint of nostalgia.

🌷 🌷 🌷

THEY went to the Cathedral’s office, but the pope wasn’t there. It seemed he wasn’t the type to stay in one place for long and was even known to quietly disappear with a broom in hand when he had nothing else to do.

“If he loves to clean, then the people who serve God really must be a different type than the rest of us,” Ophelia remarked.

“You’re right about that. The current pope is a rare character. He’s prudent and doesn’t spend extravagantly.”

The two wandered aimlessly around the Cathedral searching for the pope.

In the gardens that didn’t have any established flower beds or gorgeous statues, the small yellow flowers that had somehow pushed their way up between the weeds swayed in a gentle breeze. However, the gardens also didn’t appear to be entirely abandoned. The dead flowers and fallen leaves had all been cleared away, leaving an impression of manmade nature.

They made their way around a large tree, and just as they were turning the corner of the building, Ophelia’s legs wobbled, and she collapsed into a little pile on the ground.

“Oi, are you okay?”

“I just lost my balance, that’s all. I can still walk on my own, so I believe we’re still a good distance from whatever caused this.”

“I don’t see anyone up ahead…”

“Yeah. So I think… Oh! Oh… Um, probably there’s some damage or defect in the building a bit further down.” Ophelia inched her way forward, holding onto the wall for support.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“Whatever it is, it’s this way.”

“So it seems, but there’s no need for you to intentionally go toward it, is there?” Claudio tugged on her arm, and Ophelia turned to him with a look of surprise.

“But, but, but! If I don’t go there and fix it, someone might get hurt…”

“But nothing. You’re not a repair woman anymore.”

Ophelia shook her head emphatically from side to side as if hurt by those words, and tears began gathering in her eyes. She decided to ignore Claudio’s incredulity and turned to resume walking one shaky step at a time.

The further she went, the more unstable her legs became, and her hands started shaking where she was gripping desperately onto the wall.

“Oh, ohhh… Uwahh… Eeek…”

“Are you unable to walk without making those strange noises?”

“Pant… Th-They just come ouuut…!”

Claudio put a hand on his forehead and let out an exasperated sigh as he trailed along behind Ophelia, who was hobbling like a bent-backed old granny.

Ophelia fought off the tears still threatening to fall and pushed on.

Claudio reached out to grab her shoulder, but he stopped just short of touching her. Somehow, Claudio got the feeling that he shouldn’t stop Ophelia when she was pushing forward in spite of her fear. Should he have her hold onto his jacket like before? Or should he go on ahead and find the cause of her shaking for her?

In the end, Claudio settled on silently following along one step behind Ophelia.

He didn’t know why, but something told him that it wasn’t the right move to intervene without her asking for his help. This timid girl, who’d hidden frantically behind her brother, was now intentionally heading into a dangerous area with the hazy reasoning that “Someone might get hurt.”

“Wh-Whoa there! Be careful!”

Ophelia was leaning most of her weight on the wall and panting so hard that her shoulders shook from the force of her ragged breaths when the first tear finally spilled over and rolled down her cheek. She reached up to wipe it away with her sleeve, and as if the dam had broken, tears began flowing freely down her face. Even so, she forced her shaking legs to continue moving forward.

“…What are your senses telling you now?” he asked.

It’s obviously so unpleasant that she’s crying, but she keeps going… This isn’t persistence; it’s obsession.

All Claudio could do was stare at Ophelia’s frame from behind, unstable and unreliable, but full of a strong sense of justice that left him with complex feelings that he couldn’t find a name for.

“I’m sure it’s somewhere around here, but… Ugh, if only Bernard were here, he’d find the broken spot. I can’t determine a precise location…” Ophelia muttered, her hand on the wall, forming into a fist.

They passed through a copse of trees behind the building, coming out at a corner where the wall looked particularly weathered. Ophelia looked around, her head whipping around and her expression bewildered. Seeing her only barely managing to stay upright with her upper body plastered against the wall, Claudio concluded that this must be the right area.

Just then, the rustling sound of grass parting and the heavy thump of approaching footsteps reached his ears, causing Claudio to tense in anticipation and turn toward the source of the noise.

“Duke Stolarni? This area is off-limits. What are you doing out here?”

In front of him stood a white-haired man wearing white robes and a suspicious expression.

“Your Holiness. We went to the office, but you weren’t there, so we came looking for you,” Claudio responded.

“I see… I’m sorry for inconveniencing you.”

“No, well, it’s my fault for showing up unannounced like this. We were passing through the area, so I thought I’d stop in and see you. It’s been too long.”

“Goodness me, thank you very much! I was just tidying up the garden a bit…” The long sleeves of the pope’s robe swayed elegantly as he gestured to where a bare tree stood a short distance away, with its leaves and branches stripped away.

“What happened there?” Claudio tilted his head to the side in a perplexed gesture, and the pope strangely covered the lower half of his face with his sleeve.

“I see you’ve noticed, sharp as ever. Every year, around this time, that tree blooms with vibrant red flowers for just a few days. However, something about it draws in insects that eat the new leaves immediately after the flowers have fallen. I don’t often have time to tend to the garden, so after the flowers’ glory passes, it always ends up getting stripped bare like that. Hehe, I do always look forward to gathering the fallen branches and roasting potatoes in the fire when I burn them. You caught me red-handed, secretly gathering sticks just now.”

The pope gave a dignified chuckle, his eyes narrowed with good humor. Then he caught sight of Ophelia leaning hard against the wall, barely staying upright, and he frowned.

“Goodness, whatever is the matter with that lady over there?”

“That’s my employee… She’s not feeling very well at the moment, but she’ll be just fine soon enough, so don’t worry about her.”

The sound of Claudio’s voice helped calm her shaking just a bit, allowing Ophelia to raise her head.

“Oh! Director, th-that’s it! I’m sure of it.”

Claudio looked where Ophelia was pointing and found a cracked section of tile beside one of the windows on the third floor of the three-story building that had pieces chipping off.

“Wh-When one tile falls off, the surrounding tiles will also begin falling off. …Even a small tile could be very dangerous falling from the third floor,” Ophelia explained, gasping for each breath as she did.

The pope cupped his chin with his hand and nodded as he gazed up at the broken section of tile. “I didn’t notice. You’re right, that certainly is dangerous. I’ll put in a request to have it repaired right away.”

Nodding his acknowledgement of the pope’s calm reply, Claudio couldn’t help feeling there was something strange about Ophelia’s condition. Would such a small tile, at such a great distance, really cause her to shake that badly?

“Please wait just a moment.” Claudio’s expression turned suspicious, and he walked quickly over to the spot in front of the first-floor window where the broken tile fragments had fallen. “This is… There are footprints here. And over here too. There are traces indicating someone tried to climb up here.”

“What?!”

Claudio waited while the pope bustled over to stand beside him, then tilted his head back to look up. “What are the rooms directly above this spot?” he asked.

“The second floor is the library, and the third floor is… my, or rather, the pope’s private office.”

Claudio glared at the footprints on the ground, his face fierce. Upon closer inspection, several more tiles had been cracked by feet pressing against them. “It seems that someone was trying to sneak in. You should be careful.”

“Indeed… I believe an inventory of the library and my office is also in order.”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

Ophelia finally made her way over to where the two of them were standing. Claudio glanced over and confirmed what he’d suspected—her trembling had stopped. Then he looked back up at the third-floor window.

“…I’ll submit a request to the Ministry of Safety to increase your security personnel here as well.”

🌷 🌷 🌷

IN the carriage on the way over to the art museum, Claudio sat silently with his arms folded across his broad chest. Ophelia, feeling awkward in the oppressive silence, did her best to make herself as tiny as she could, pressed into her safe little corner.

“I, um… I’m sorry for causing a commotion back there…” Ophelia said so quietly that it was barely audible.

Claudio’s lapis-lazuli eyes narrowed as he glared at her. “As you should be. I’ve never met someone who needed to be handled so carefully before. Do you always run headfirst into danger like that?”

“Huh?! B-But, um, I rarely go out, and at work my brother always accompanied me…”

“What would you have done if the person who tried to sneak into that building was still lurking somewhere nearby?”

“Uh, um, well… I suppose try to get away…?”

“And you seriously think you could’ve run away from a criminal while shaking so badly you could hardly stand? You have no sense of self-preservation, which is extremely alarming for the people who care about you, I’ll have you know.”

After heaving a massive sigh, Claudio seemed to realize what he’d just said. His mouth twisted in displeasure, and he refolded his arms, then cleared his throat before speaking again.

“…You’re not to do such self-centered things in the future, you hear me?”

“Uh, um…”

“Got it?!”

“Y-Yes!!”

“…But, thanks to you, we discovered those suspicious footprints. Good job.”

Being praised directly after being scolded… was an unusual but strangely effective management style. Ophelia gazed at Claudio with stars in her eyes and was rewarded by the surliest expression she’d ever seen him make.

It wasn’t long before they arrived at the art museum. There weren’t many visitors on an ordinary weekday afternoon like this when there weren’t any special exhibits going on. Even so, Claudio made a point of walking just ahead and a bit to the side of Ophelia to block her from the people they passed.

Their visit had been arranged in advance, so the first staff member to catch sight of Claudio hurried over to greet them.

“We’ve been awaiting your arrival, Director. Please allow me to show you around.”

“We haven’t come to look at the art; we’re only here to talk.”

“To… talk?”

The staff member, whose name tag identified him as the museum’s curator, tilted his head to the side in obvious confusion.

Ophelia inched out from behind Claudio, trying to discreetly move to a spot where she could see the curator clearly. Determining the truthfulness of the museum staff’s replies was Ophelia’s primary task today.

“I’ve heard you’ve been receiving a lot of visitors from foreign countries, and I wanted to ask what kinds of people they were,” Claudio said. “And also what they came to see.”

“Visitors from foreign countries… There hasn’t been much increase in the number of visitors who are immediately identifiable as foreigners. However… It’s only a hunch, mind you, but… There seems to have been a drastic increase in those who don’t look much different than our countrymen but who I suspect to be foreigners based on their mannerisms and speech.”

“Essentially, you’re saying that these are foreigners from a very closely related country.”

“I don’t make a habit of questioning our patrons as to their nationality, so I can only surmise based on my instincts, but I believe so.”

“What paintings did these people—”

Before Claudio could finish his sentence, a loud and boisterous group rounded a corner and came into view.

A gaggle of young noblewomen, dressed in vibrantly colored dresses that, despite being the height of fashion, seemed out of place in the subdued, classic environment of the art museum, was walking this way. There was a soldier, presumably a bodyguard, trailing along behind them. The girls were laughing obnoxiously, clustered around one particular young lady with gorgeous, flowing black hair. Once the group got close enough to make out their faces clearly, the black-haired lady suddenly stopped walking.

“Oh, Lord Claudio…”

The woman, who sounded surprised, was Claudio’s fiancée, Stella.

“…Stella.”

“Good day, Lord Claudio. What a coincidence, running into you here. A very happy coincidence, I assure you.” Stella curtsied magnificently, and once she raised her head, her eyes flicked over to Ophelia, who was peeking out from behind the curator. “Oh, and you are… Feeling better, I hope?”

Ophelia rushed to bob an awkward curtsy of her own. “My name is Ophelia Narve. I’m honored you remembered me.”

When Ophelia stiffly rose from her curtsy, one of the young ladies standing behind Stella snorted derisively at her.

“Yes, I’d heard that you were transferred to the Director’s Office as a secretary. …I presume the two of you have come here today on some business for the Ministry of Justice?”

Claudio answered with a simple “Yeah,” then turned to Ophelia. “You go ahead and let the curator show you around the museum. I’ll catch up later.”

“O-Okay.”

Ophelia scuttled backward, as if trying to escape from the eyes of Stella and her entourage. The curator, glancing back and forth between Ophelia and the group of young ladies, finally said, “Very well, then. If you’ll follow me, miss…”

“Yes! Thank you very much.”

Still hesitant to leave Claudio behind, Ophelia obediently turned away from him and followed the curator toward the exhibit hall.

The exhibit hall was gargantuan. The artworks were spaced out with plenty of room between each piece, and a three-seater bench was haphazardly placed in the center of the large room.

The curator, seeing that Ophelia seemed confused about what order the paintings were meant to be viewed in, raised his hand enthusiastically. “You’re free to view the art in whatever order you like, but if you have no particular preference, I’ll introduce everything from oldest to newest. This is the first piece here…”

The curator went on to prove just how qualified he was for his title by carefully explaining each painting in terms simple enough for even an absolute novice like Ophelia to understand and appreciate. His considerate behavior and sincere passion for the arts gradually eased Ophelia’s frayed nerves.

“This is a portrait of an angel delivering a message to Euvtomeus. He is said to be the most beautiful of all Euvtomeus’s angels.”

The angel was striking, with almost translucent platinum hair, skin so white it seemed to have a bluish undertone, and just a touch of vermillion in his cheeks. His beauty was indeed an ethereal sight, but personally, Ophelia thought Claudio and the man named Gian, whom they’d encountered behind the Cathedral, were more beautiful due to the sense of vitality they exuded.

I guess on second thought, Gian wasn’t a ghost after all. He was a living, breathing human. But in that case, it must mean he was lying about something pretty big…

“The display all the way at the end is the focal piece.”

The curator’s voice echoed in the cavernous, empty hall as he called out gently to Ophelia, who’d been lost in her own thoughts. She gave a little gasp, snapping out of her dazed state and hurrying after him.

The curator stopped in front of a large glass box. Inside the box was a raised platform roughly the size of a small bed, with a long, thin object wrapped in age-worn cloth sitting atop it.

“These are the holy remains of Euvtomeus.”

“H… Holy remains?! Th-this is a dead body?!”

Ophelia unconsciously jumped back a step, then immediately made a horrified face as she realized how disrespectful her behavior was. The curator smiled, trying to put her at ease, then dramatically cupped one hand around his mouth and whispered, “This is a replica. The real holy remains are preserved with the utmost care at the Cathedral.”

“Phew… That was certainly a surprise! But the real thing does exist, then?”

“Yes… Did you not know? Surely you must’ve learned of it during your religious studies lessons at school?”

“I, um, was sickly as a child, and couldn’t attend school… I was taught the basics at home by a private tutor, but…” Ophelia did her best to suppress the shaking in her hands as she spoke, and the curator’s face transformed into a pitying expression.

“…I see. That must’ve been very difficult for you. I’m glad your health has improved. Euvtomeus’s holy remains are displayed for worship during large ceremonies. Yes, if I’m not mistaken, your next opportunity to see them would be at the Ordination Ceremony that’s coming up before too long.”

“Eeek! I-I’m not in a terrible hurry to see them…”

“Hahaha, I see. Although they’re called the ‘holy remains,’ it’s really just a few arm bones.”

I don’t care if they’re sacred relics; scary things are still scary! Ophelia slowly put some distance between herself and the replica holy remains.

“Why don’t we move on to the next room? Next door is where we display artwork by up-and-coming local artists. I’ll show you my favorites first.”

Ophelia did her best to conceal the involuntary sigh of relief that escaped her as they left the exhibit hall.

To Ophelia, who wasn’t particularly interested in the arts, watching the curator ramble on endlessly was more entertaining than the actual pieces he was introducing to her. It had been a long time since she’d had a one-on-one conversation with someone without trembling or shaking. Ophelia didn’t really understand the somewhat abstract paintings and sculptures by the “up-and-coming local artists,” but even so, she didn’t feel that the considerable amount of time she spent listening to the curator’s passionate narration was wasted.

Just as they exited the second room, they ran into Claudio, who, it seemed, had been looking for them.

“Sorry for foisting the girl off on you.”

The curator ducked his head humbly in response to the effortless confidence Claudio probably didn’t even realize his voice was brimming with.

“Not at all! If anything, I should be the one apologizing. I don’t often get to speak with our patrons like this, so I may have gotten a bit carried away and talked the lady’s ear off. I’m sure it was terribly boring; you’ll have to forgive me.”

“Certainly not! It was incredibly informative, and I had a lot of fun!” Ophelia exclaimed, waving her hands back and forth in an exaggerated manner in front of her chest, causing the curator to bow his head deeply.

“Sorry for taking up so much of your time,” Claudio said. “If you notice anything else, no matter how small, please contact me.”

“Yes, sir.”

The curator escorted them to the exit, where Claudio and Ophelia climbed into their waiting carriage.

“Did you notice anything?”

Claudio immediately closed the carriage’s window. Without being able to see the scenery outside, Ophelia couldn’t help being hyperaware of the fact that it was just them inside the carriage. She uncomfortably looked anywhere but at Claudio.

“Um, well… I didn’t pick up on any lies or sense that anything was off.”

“What did the curator talk about?”

“He just explained each piece of art… That was really it.”

“Hm… What stood out to you about the paintings?”

If she told Claudio that she’d seen a painting of an angel and her first thought had been that its beauty paled in comparison to Claudio’s own, he would surely be infuriated.

Ophelia’s hands trembled the slightest bit as she bit back the words before they came pouring out. In order to hide it from Claudio’s perceptive gaze, she slipped her hands beneath her thighs.

“The painting of the angel was impressive.”

“What else?”

“Um… Uh… Oh! They had a replica of the holy remains. The curator told me that the Cathedral possesses the real holy remains!”

“Yes, and?”

“He said that the real holy remains will be on display at the upcoming Ordination Ceremony.”

“That’s right. You didn’t even know that? The curator must’ve been surprised by your lack of basic knowledge.”

“He did seem dismayed when I told him that I’d only learned the bare essentials due to being too sickly to attend school.”

“I consider basic knowledge about our country’s national religion to be part of the bare essentials. Your family certainly spoiled you…” Claudio said in an incredulous tone, leaning back against the seat. “By the way, the Ordination Ceremony isn’t held at the Cathedral, but at the chapel inside the Royal Palace.”

“What?! That’s right near the Architectural Institute!”

“It’s the ceremony where all the new clergy members from the entire country are ordained, after all. There’s not enough space at the Cathedral. Every year, there’s a huge procession where the holy remains are transported to the chapel, guarded by legions of soldiers from the Ministry of Safety. How could you not know any of this?”

“I really didn’t!”

Ophelia had tears in the corners of her eyes as she answered, but she wasn’t shaking. Claudio’s face twisted with incredulous shock at this proof that even one aristocrat existed in the entire country who didn’t know such basic common knowledge.

But I guess it couldn’t be helped… Claudio thought, quickly amending his opinion.

The Director’s Office team, who investigated the country’s most conniving criminals day in and day out, had found Ophelia’s trembling suspicious. As a result, they’d been compelled to pursue the matter and ultimately figured out that it was caused by her mysterious ability, but the majority of people would most likely simply write her shaking off as a peculiarity and label her as “that odd girl from the Narve family.” It was a wonder she’d turned out relatively normal instead of wasting away into a timid, servile creature.

Claudio was deeply impressed by that. Between his eye-catching strawberry-blond hair and the fact that he was the king’s brother, Claudio’s every word and action had been preyed upon to fuel the gossip swirling between the members of noble society, who were also intertwined with every layer of government. The only way he’d withstood such pressure was by developing a gruff and stubborn personality.

That didn’t mean he thought it was better to close oneself away and live isolated from society. That wasn’t what it meant to “protect” someone. Ophelia’s father seemed to understand that; it was her brother who was the problem. He was overprotective of his sister to an almost freakish level. And Claudio just couldn’t shake what Ophelia had said… Something was definitely strange about the siblings.

A bad feeling came over Ophelia again as she discreetly observed Claudio deep in contemplation of… something.

🌷 🌷 🌷

“UMM, that is… Uh…”

In the Architectural Institute’s reception room, Bernard was frozen on the spot, torrents of cold sweat rolling down his forehead. Claudio sat on the opposite sofa facing Bernard, his legs folded with a cool confidence that contradicted Bernard’s obvious anxiety. Claudio’s fiery gaze, pinned on Bernard’s face, was the only sign of emotion lurking under the surface.

The Architectural Institute’s tea was neither particularly delicious nor particularly terrible; it was merely average. Claudio sipped placidly at his lukewarm tea.

“This isn’t an order, and I’m not going to force you to tell me anything. I’m just asking because it’s been bothering me, you understand.”

“Yes…” Bernard swallowed pointedly as if trying to gather his courage and squeezed his hands into tight fists where they rested on his legs. “As Your Grace guessed, although it’s not to the same degree as my sister, I, too, possess an unusual ability.”

Claudio set the teacup down on the table and re-crossed his legs in the opposite direction.

“I’m sure it’s somewhere around here, but… Ugh, if only Bernard were here, he’d find the broken spot. I can’t determine a precise location…”

Claudio had locked onto those words that had slipped unheeded from Ophelia’s mouth at the Cathedral. Why would Bernard know the precise location if she couldn’t figure it out herself? The two had achieved seriously impressive repair records as a team.

“I’m the type who just can’t let it go without investigating once my curiosity’s been piqued. So, what’s your ability? Continue.”

Bernard pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and used it to wipe his forehead before responding. “I can sense danger, but only in relation to buildings. Damaged spots, obviously, but also slight warping in the pillars and floor, corrosion behind the walls, that kind of thing… It doesn’t affect my body like my sister’s, but I can pick out architectural issues.”

“Only in relation to buildings, you say? So that’s why you were the one who went to figure out which floorboards were rotted that night at the ball?” Claudio asked.

“Yes. At that time, Ophelia wasn’t the only one who sensed something was off; I felt it too. …I’m sorry for concealing this from you.”

“It’s fine. You only answered the questions you were asked. I’m the one who didn’t ask the right questions.” In contradiction to his words, Claudio’s characteristically fierce glare now seemed distinctly condemning, causing Bernard to quickly avert his eyes. “What about your father? Are you and your sister the only ones who have special abilities?”

“…Father can perceive when something is off in relation to numbers. Which is why he’s in charge of structural calculations at the Architectural Institute. The director of the Architectural Institute is the only one who knows about this.”

“So you and your father both found positions that perfectly aligned with your abilities, hm? Is it hereditary, then?”

“Yes. My grandfather’s ability pertained to weight… He could tell from just a glance which of two visually identical items was heavier, so he was put in charge of material management at the Architectural Institute. Both my great-grandfather and his father also possessed some kind of special ability… Up until now, a special ability appeared only in the eldest son of each generation, but for some reason, Ophelia also got her own ability… I feel sorry for her; this was never meant to be her burden to bear.”

Claudio sighed as he watched Bernard’s fists clench even tighter. “It’s because you two are always sheltering her out of pity that she grew up without even the most basic of common knowledge. She won’t always be able to remain under your care, so you really need to—”

“I will protect Ophie for my entire life! You have no right to say such things!” Bernard shouted fiercely, glaring straight at Claudio as he cut the duke off mid-sentence. A moment later, Bernard gasped, realizing what he’d done and looking away. For his part, Claudio’s eyes widened slightly, and he closed his mouth. “Ophie… My sister is mine to protect. I’ve protected her ever since we were kids. And that’s not going to change. So please return her quickly.”

Without ever averting his eyes from Bernard, Claudio reached out and picked up his teacup. A moment of silence fell between the two, during which Bernard regained his composure, and his cheeks flushed lightly.

“Forgive me. I should not have spoken so disrespectfully, Your Grace.”

“I’ve been thinking this for a while, but your attachment to your sister really is abnormal. What made you like that?”

“…”

“…Was it your mother?”

Bernard stared at the floor, only his shoulders twitching in response.

Looks like I was right.

These days, the topic of “the miraculous divorce” seldom came up in conversation. The world had already moved past it, and yet the Narve family was still caught within its tidepool. The majority of marriages between nobles were arranged, so it was common practice to produce a few children, and then each spouse would go off with lovers of their choice. However, these couples would remain legally married and present themselves publicly as husband and wife for the purpose of the family alliance that had brought them together in the first place.

But with Ophelia in the house…

“My family was living happily. But around the time my sister gained awareness of her surroundings, her ability began manifesting. She would start to shake until she collapsed whenever she was around our mother, and our previously peaceful family life was no more. Ophelia was always shaking and crying, causing Mother to make the most distraught face… There was nothing Father or I could do.”

“…I can imagine.”

“Father and Mother decided to get divorced. As long as they kept living a lie, Ophelia would never even be able to stand upright for long without falling over.”

Claudio reached for his teacup, only to realize it was empty, and stopped his hand in midair. After a moment, he reached up with the idle hand to scratch his head. “It’s extremely rare for aristocrats to divorce. I heard that the palace officials processing your parents’ divorce had to pull up historical records to even figure out how to go about it.”

“Yes… During that time, Father spent an inordinate amount of time at the Royal Palace trying to get the divorce processed. It really ran him ragged.” As he muttered that, Bernard clasped his temples with both hands and looked down at the table. “At the time, I blamed my sister. I was confused and upset that Mother was leaving. I understood, vaguely, that Mother was the one who’d taken a lover. But that had never been a problem before. I was angry at Ophie for ruining everything. I just wanted my mother back.”

As Bernard’s voice began to shake, Claudio remained silent and slowly closed his eyes. Bernard had only been about ten years old at the time. It was unreasonable in and of itself to expect a child that age to be reasonable.

“When I said those horrible things to her, Ophie didn’t even cry. She just stood there frozen, too shocked to cry. That’s when I finally realized… For months, she’d been so confounded by Mother’s lies that she was always falling down and injuring herself. Ophie was hurting just as much as I was.”

Claudio didn’t look away. Bernard’s face looked a lot like Ophelia’s when he had tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I will spend my whole life protecting Ophie. So, please… Return her to me quickly.”

Claudio let out a small sigh, then looked down and massaged his brow with his right hand.

Claudio hated lies.

Back when he’d been a young prince, people were constantly trying to get close to him, hoping to benefit from the connection in some way. He’d quickly learned that directly condemning their fake smiles was a surefire way to send them packing. Anything that upset him, he would deal with quickly and decisively, by himself. That was his nature.

However, for the first time, Claudio experienced shame for unintentionally intruding on the pain the Narve siblings carried in their hearts.

🌷 🌷 🌷

“IF I knew you needed more help, I would’ve put in for a transfer to the Director’s Office… I’m really good at serving tea. I’m sure I would’ve been much more helpful to everyone…”

Miranda from the General Affairs Division swayed her body cutely as she spoke, really turning on the charm. Her golden hair, which was styled in a rolled-under bob, was set off by a frilly blouse and prettily manicured nails.

It certainly must take a lot of skill to make tea with such long nails… Ophelia thought sarcastically, hiding her hands under her desk to conceal their faint shaking.

Miranda was a member of the General Affairs Division who’d come to the Director’s Office on an errand to deliver some document or other. Ever since Ophelia had been transferred here, she had gone out of her way to individually deliver a suspiciously large number of documents that could’ve been delivered all together at a later date.

“You’re just as cute as ever, Miranda,” Samael called out from where he sat at his desk with his chin leaning on his hand, wearing a devilish smile. Normally, he’d be shouted at by Claudio if he were caught wearing such an unprofessional expression, but the boss was currently absent. …Leaving the guys free to gawk at the adorable Miss Miranda as much as they liked.

“You look splendid today as well, Lord Samael.”

“Thanks! You’re always so cheerful that I feel energized whenever I see you.”

“Tee-hee! I’m so happy to hear that. I’m just so excited about working here; it fills me with energy! …Oh, I’d better be getting back soon, or I’ll get yelled at. The next time you need more help, please let me know. I promise I’ll be very, very helpful to have around!”

With an exaggerated wave, Miranda finally exited the Director’s Office. Samael and Angelo gazed longingly at the door long after it closed behind her.

“Miranda really is cute…”

“Assistant Director, you’re going to get in trouble with your wife.”

“It’s fine to look as long as you don’t touch, right?”

Bruno, noticing Ophelia rifling around in her bag beneath her desk, peered over at her with a worried expression. “Lady Narve, that girl is lively, but that’s all she has going for her. Everyone here knows that you are a hundred times more useful than she could ever be, so don’t take it to heart, okay?”

“I’ll be right back!”

Ophelia stood and ran from the room. Out in the hall, she looked left and right, searching for Miranda.

“Um, Miss Miranda!”

When she turned to face Ophelia, Miranda’s eyes were cold, completely at odds with her behavior just a moment ago.

“What do you want?”

Although her voice was steady and calm, Miranda tapped her foot irritably. The entire time Miranda had been talking in the Director’s Office, Ophelia’s hands hadn’t stopped shaking. Given that Miranda’s entire persona was a carefully cultivated act, it wasn’t particularly surprising.

“Um, I was wondering… Perhaps you’re not feeling very well today?”

“Huh?”

“If you’d like, please take this.”

Ophelia stuffed her hand into her pouch and pulled out an energy-replenishing candy with the distinctive circled-M logo on it that she’d purchased at the shop the other day. She’d squirreled away a few extras before giving the rest to her father and brother as souvenirs. Miranda opened her eyes so wide that her curled eyelashes fluttered dramatically and looked back and forth between Ophelia’s face and the candy several times.

“It has the Ministry of the Magical Arts’ logo, so it must be the genuine article. …But how did you know that I’m not feeling well?”

“I, uh… just thought you looked a bit pale…”

The truth was that when Miranda had described herself as “full of energy,” Ophelia’s hands had shaken dramatically.

“Hmm, you’re sharper than I gave you credit for. Okay, I’ll take it. Thanks! See you.” Miranda snatched the candy out of Ophelia’s hand, then just as quickly turned and flounced down the stairs.

It seemed her annoying ability had actually turned out to be helpful for once.

Ophelia watched Miranda’s retreating figure, which never once turned to look back, until she was out of sight.

🌷 🌷 🌷

“A notification about construction on the western staircase? We don’t even use that staircase.” After glancing at the page Miranda had brought over, Angelo tossed it into the trash can with obvious disinterest and began cleaning his ear cuff. “General Affairs sure has a lot of free time on their hands, huh?” he remarked.

“Well, it’s not strange for girls around that age to be gung-ho about searching for a marriage partner. It seems she’s got her sights set on Bruno,” Samael responded, seemingly equally disinterested, given the fact that he didn’t even look up from his paperwork.

“No thanks.”

Critical Strike against Miranda! Even Bruno seemed entirely uninterested as he flat-out rejected the idea of courting the young lady. In response, Angelo paused in the middle of polishing his ear cuff and turned abruptly to look at Bruno.

“You have some nerve saying things like that after receiving a present from Miranda just the other day!”

This perked Samael right up when he’d seemed about ready to fall asleep at his desk. Now interest was written all over his face.

“That was simply a thank-you present. And I didn’t accept it.”

“A thank-you present?”

“A man was bothering her outside the entrance to the Ministry. I was worried she would be late for work, so I called out to her; that’s all. It seems the man was a higher-ranked noble, so she was having a hard time getting rid of him. Well, I suspect the entire situation was the result of her flirtatious behavior, so in a way it was her own fault, but…”

“Yeah, a lot of men probably get the wrong idea.”

Samael resumed his napping position, and Bruno returned to looking over the papers in front of him. Only Angelo looked up at the ceiling idly, bored.

“Ophie’s gonna get married someday, too, huh?”

Bruno’s head snapped up with a disturbed expression, and Samael opened one eye to stare at Angelo.

“Frankly, I think finding a suitable marriage partner might prove difficult for her,” Samael muttered, and Bruno nodded his agreement.

“I think you’re right. It would need to be someone who doesn’t lie and always acts according to their true feelings.”

“It seems that whenever she’s at home, they keep the number of servants in the Narve household to the bare minimum. In that case, her husband would also need to have keen discernment about a person’s character in order to select servants with the right temperament.”

Angelo, who’d been listening quietly to their conversation, suddenly raised his hand. “…I know someone who fits those requirements exactly.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah… You’re right. There’s someone who never lies and is both a good judge of character and has the authority to get things done…” Bruno said almost to himself, a frown marring his brow.

“Are you guys referring to Claudio?” Samael asked, and the others nodded. “But he has a fiancée!” Samael insisted, waving his arms back and forth in front of him.

“Oh, that’s right. The director’s so surly that I’d completely forgotten,” Bruno said.

“Er, well… I suppose you have a point there,” Samael agreed. “He showed absolutely no interest in the idea of marriage, just putting it off for as long as possible until the king essentially ordered him to get engaged. But, whatever. If it comes to it, I’ll take responsibility for searching for a good match for Lady Narve.”

“If you can’t find anyone, I’ll take her, so don’t worry,” Bruno said, entirely straight-faced, one hand dipping his pen into the inkwell while he flipped to the next page in the stack of documents on the desk in front of him with his other hand. Samael and Angelo could only silently stare at each other, incredulous at Bruno’s casual demeanor while making such a monumental declaration.

🌷 🌷 🌷

DESPITE its location on the outskirts of the city, the large family restaurant was busy well past the lunchtime rush. It was the afternoon on a weekend when Ophelia and Bernard arrived at the restaurant much earlier than the appointed time. Even so, the person they’d come to meet was already there waiting for them.

“Mother!”

The woman who turned with a broad smile at the sound of Ophelia’s voice was the Narve siblings’ mother, Emiliana. She had blonde hair that seemed to almost glow in the light pouring in through the restaurant’s large windows and an easygoing smile. The siblings were happy to see her looking just as youthful and energetic as the last time they’d met. After divorcing their father, she remarried and was now living as a commoner. Her husband was a tailor who ran a successful shop in the Royal City.

“Ophie! Bernie! How have you been?”

“We’re doing well. How are you?”

“As you can see, I’m doing just fine!”

Ophelia took the seat next to her mother, and Bernard sat across from them. It seemed that their mother had already ordered, because not a moment later, the server delivered three lunch sets to the table. Ophelia’s dish was missing the green peppers, and Bernard’s didn’t contain any celery. Ophelia couldn’t help being a bit embarrassed by the way their mother, with the best of intentions, continued to dote on them like children, no matter how old they got.

“Ophie, I read your letter. I was shocked to hear you’ve started working at the Ministry of Justice. That’s incredible!”

“I’m planning to return to the Architectural Institute as soon as possible.”

“Even if it’s only temporary, they need help that only you can provide. That’s really impressive. Are you working hard and doing your best every day?”

“Hehe, I haven’t missed work or been late even once!”

“In that case, it’s safe to assume you’re enjoying the job. The other employees are all treating you well, even though they know about your situation, right?”

Ophelia swallowed a spoonful of her soup and nodded, smiling brightly. Seeing this, Emiliana responded in a tone brimming with heartfelt delight, “I told you, didn’t I? I always said that someday a person would appear who would understand you just the way you are, Ophie.”

Emiliana tore her bread roll in half and placed the larger half on Bernard’s now-empty bread plate. “Hehe, don’t think I haven’t noticed you pouting over there, Bernie.”

“Huh? I’m not…” Bernard pressed one hand against his cheek and used the other to dunk the bread he’d received from Emiliana into his soup.

“Oh? I was under the impression you and Ophie were attached at the hip, but I suppose I was mistaken?”

“…We’re not like that.”

“As your mother, I’m relieved to see that you both seem to be making the most of your special abilities. You’re both very talented, you know.”

Ophelia’s eyes fell to the table in response.

For a long time, Emiliana had always praised Ophelia’s strange ability. She’d claimed it would one day come in handy for helping others.

They’d been living happily as a family of four until Ophelia had ruined everything. Even so, Emiliana never once blamed her daughter. The “miraculous divorce” wasn’t Ophelia’s fault. Instead, Emiliana conveyed in word and deed that she truly believed the entire ordeal had led to her current happiness.

Previously, Claudio had told her that there was “no need to run headfirst into danger,” but Ophelia had proceeded regardless. She didn’t want to let her mother down. She wanted to use her special ability to help others. That was all Ophelia had been thinking at the time. Her mother’s words gave her the strength to keep moving on legs that shook so hard she could barely stand and carry on through tears that threatened to obscure her vision.

Now that I think about it, the director never tried to force me to stop… Ophelia thought back to the events of that day. Ophelia must’ve been nearly incoherent as she stumbled along holding onto the wall for support, but Claudio had simply adjusted his pace to match hers and walked along behind her.

“Ophie? Your face has gotten a bit red?”

“Huh?! What? Maybe the meat was a bit spicier than I realized…”

“Hehe, your hands are trembling.”

“Oh!”

Grinning wickedly, Emiliana poked Ophelia’s cheek with her finger. Bernard watched with a fierce glare and took a giant bite out of his meat, chewing more aggressively than strictly necessary.

“So, have you met anyone nice at the Ministry of Justice?” Emiliana asked.

“Huh?”

“You’re really cute, Ophie, so now that you’re finally out from under Bernie’s thumb, I bet you’re super popular with all the young men, right?”

“Everyone is very kind to me, but nothing like what you’re suggesting.”

“Aw, that’s too bad. There’s no one who understands you and with whom you could live a peaceful life?”

Someone I could live happily with, who isn’t repulsed by my strange ability?

The only people who came to mind as fitting these requirements were her coworkers in the Director’s Office. Bruno, in particular, had been so kind to her that it had earned her the spite of women from other divisions. But the last face that she visualized was a stunningly beautiful one framed by long pink hair. For some reason, whenever she was with him, her shaking stopped. Why was that? Because she knew he would never lie? Ophelia forcibly cut her thoughts off there. It was better not to follow that line of thinking. Nothing could come of it.

“Oh my, that face you’re making tells me there is someone after all…”

“Ophie?!”

In his haste, Bernard accidentally jostled the table. Silverware clanged loudly against plates, drawing curious gazes from everyone in the restaurant. That made Ophelia equally flustered, and she began wringing her hands in front of her chest.

“Don’t be silly, of course not! Everyone working in the Director’s Office is way out of my league!”

“That’s too bad… How about you, Bernie?” Emiliana turned to her son. “With Ophie gone, have you finally started noticing girls?”

“There’s no way any of them would be interested in someone like me…”

“It’s true, Mother. He’s really quite pathetic!”

“That’s a terrible thing to say, Ophie!”

This time, their mother’s hearty laugh caused all eyes in the restaurant to again turn in their direction. Wiping away the tears that had gathered in the corners of her eyes from laughing so hard, Emiliana reached into her bag and pulled out two packages wrapped in paper.

“Here, I have a present for each of you. I sewed all of my love into these.”

“Wow, what a cute blouse!”

“And a dashing shirt for me.”

Having grown up as the second daughter of an earl, Emiliana had always been talented at embroidery. She reluctantly went along with the marriage her parents arranged for her with Sigmond, but even then, her heart already belonged to her childhood friend, the tailor’s boy.

Ophelia hugged the blouse that she was certain her mother had sewn together with her husband.

The entire time Emiliana inquired after their father’s health, expressed her high expectations for bright futures for both her children, and relayed the details of her own peaceful, simple life with her husband, Ophelia’s body never trembled even the slightest. Well, she did shake a bit when her brother showed uncharacteristically considerate restraint, but regardless, Ophelia concluded that, in the end, this arrangement was truly what was best for everyone. Her ability proved it.

“Thank you, Mother. I’ll wear this to work tomorrow,” Ophelia said.

“Is it okay not to wear the Ministry of Justice’s uniform blouse?”

“It seems so. Everyone dresses pretty fancy. Oh, and the Ministry of Justice uniform is really cute; it has embroidery on the collar and sleeves of the jacket.”

Both Emiliana and Bernard seemed astounded by her words.

“Ophie… You are aware that the thread used in the embroidery on the Ministry of Justice uniform is a magical item, right?”

This time, it was Ophelia’s turn to be astounded by Bernard’s question.

“The thread is a magical item?”

“The embroidery on the jacket takes the place of an ID card. There’s a magical item installed in the entryway to the Ministry of Justice that reads the embroidery and allows you entrance to the building. This is a well-known fact; didn’t you know?”

“I had no idea…”

Seeing the still-stumped expression on Ophelia’s face, Bernard scratched his cheek guiltily. “Maybe he was right, and we really have been sheltering Ophie a bit too much…”

“Bernard, who told you something like that?” Ophelia asked.

“…Um, a friend…?”

One didn’t need Ophelia’s special ability to tell when Bernard was lying. Emiliana laughed at the way her son evasively looked everywhere but at his sister, then popped the last bite of her dessert into her mouth.

“I’m extremely disappointed with both of you for not even having any leads on a potential marriage partner at your ages. I’ll have you know that I’ve been polishing my skills so I can make the shirt for your wedding, Bernard, and the gloves for your wedding, Ophelia. Don’t let my efforts go to waste.”

“…Yes, Mother.”

“…Yes, Mother.”

Emiliana rewarded her children with a gentle smile after they answered in perfect unison.

Before her children could beat her to it, Emiliana quickly paid the bill, then, with a final enthusiastic wave, she disappeared into the bustling sea of people hurrying along the city streets.

“H-Hey, Ophie… Do you… Um, that is… Is there someone you like at the Ministry of Justice, I mean?”

“Bernard?”

“Oh! P-P-Please tell me it’s not that guy Angelo! Anyone but him!”

“I’m certainly not interested in him in that way, rest assured.”

“O-Of course not, what was I thinking? …I get the feeling he has really twisted interests…”

Bernard has really shrewd instincts at the strangest of times.

Of course, Ophelia couldn’t say that out loud. She wasn’t the type to gossip about other people’s proclivities, and furthermore, she had no desire to even think about Angelo’s.

“I said that to appease Mother, but I really don’t think marriage is in the cards for me. I don’t think there’s anyone who could stand being with me all the time,” Ophelia said.

“You’re probably right! But that’s okay, Ophie—you’ll always have me!”

Ophelia frowned at the sudden 180 that left Bernard so enthusiastic he practically took her hand. She’d intended to continue with “But you need to get married,” but now it would be awkward to say that with the turn the conversation had taken.

Ophelia was prepared to stand aside and let another woman take the spot at her brother’s side. She decided to ask Samael, who seemed like the helpful sort, to help her find someone to introduce to Bernard.

Ophelia trailed slowly behind her brother, who considerately led her along a less-crowded route in the direction of their home.

Chapter 4: The Sharing of Secrets

Chapter 4: The Sharing of Secrets

THE Royal Palace’s library primarily contained reference books. As a result, it wasn’t very popular. Ophelia walked along a row of shelves that stretched all the way to the ceiling, searching for the materials Claudio had ordered her to fetch.

The librarian had fallen asleep at the circulation desk by the front door. The desk was drenched in sunlight coming in through a nearby window, and Ophelia was certain that she’d also feel sleepy sitting in such a pleasantly warm spot all day.

She hadn’t passed a single person on her way there. Feeling that she ought to take advantage of this rare opportunity to be alone, Ophelia opened her arms wide and stretched her back.

“Oh, it might be somewhere around here…” Ophelia muttered to herself, reaching out toward a book on a shelf just above her head.

Almost… there…!

After several failed attempts where her fingertips met nothing but thin air instead of the book she was after, Ophelia gave up and went to retrieve a ladder. Using that, she reached the book, but as she started flipping through it to check its contents, both of her hands inexplicably began to tremble.

“Huh? No way, what’s going on…?!”

Little by little, the shaking worsened. Before long, her knees started wobbling, and when she could no longer stand, Ophelia tumbled right off the ladder, landing on her bottom on the floor.

“…Ahh!”

Ophelia’s butt hurt, but she was more concerned about whether the book had been damaged when she dropped it. If she destroyed a big, thick reference book like that, it would take an entire month’s salary to replace it. She reached for the ladder to drag herself to her feet, but she was still shaking so badly that she couldn’t force her hand to cooperate. Her hand slid limply down the ladder, unable to grasp on, until suddenly someone took her hand in theirs.

“Are you okay?”

Hearing a casual, vaguely familiar voice coming from alarmingly close by, Ophelia jerked her gaze up and found Duke Gian Vigatto standing over her. Just like when they’d met at the Cathedral, he had a cravat tied crisply around his neck and was wearing an obviously expensive and well-tailored jacket. His blond hair was illuminated by a faint ray of sunlight filtering down from a skylight overhead, making him look like the picture of a highly ranked nobleman. Despite the concern implied by his words, he was frowning down at Ophelia with a suspicious expression.

“Ahh!”

When she let out a reflexive shriek, Gian immediately released her hand, causing Ophelia to land on her bottom on the ground again.

“…This is certainly the first time anyone has ever screamed in terror upon seeing my face…” Gian barked out a harsh laugh, his eyes sharp and piercing.

“I-I’m so sorry! P-Please, don’t curse meee!” Ophelia desperately folded her trembling hands in front of her face and bowed as low as she dared without risking falling over again.

“Huh? What do you mean, ‘curse you’?” Gian exclaimed, his eyes wide and voice ringing out loudly in the empty room.

At this, Ophelia threw herself prone upon the floor and began moaning, “Don’t curse me! Don’t kill meee! I’m not ready to die!” while shaking all over.

“Wait, you think I am going to put a curse on you?”

Apparently, that greatly shocked Gian, who grasped his forehead with one hand and took a reflexive step back.

Certainly, with the way she lay splayed out on the ground, shaking in a manner not unlike faint convulsions, Ophelia did look like she was in the throes of a vicious curse. As if feeling his eyes observing her, Ophelia slowly raised her head.

“You’re… not going to curse me?”

“No, not for the time being, anyway.”

“Umm, then I guess you’re really not a ghost after all, huh?”

Gian’s eyes widened again in surprise, and he covered his mouth with his hand to stifle the laugh that escaped. “Pfft! Ahaha, you thought I was a ghost?! Now it makes a bit more sense!”

“You’re not a ghost… Oh, then maybe… Are you some kind of spirit? That does seem to fit a bit better, a fairy perhaps?” Ophelia guessed.

“What are you talking about?”

Gian’s profile, looking down at Ophelia with one hand covering his mouth, was a mesh of inconsistencies; he looked frightening even when laughing and seemed both irritated and amused in equal measure. Still unable to stop shaking, Ophelia remained splayed out on the floor, looking up at Gian.

“I see… Heh, I suppose I am something of a ghost.”

Immediately after muttering this, Gian silently crouched down beside Ophelia, bracing himself with one hand on the ground. He leaned forward until his eerily handsome face was very close to Ophelia’s terrified one and glared piercingly into her soul.

“So you’re Claudio’s lover after all, aren’t you? He must’ve been the one who told you about me.”

“Huh? Wh-What? His… l-l-lover?! Um, what are you talking about…?!”

“How much did he tell you? Probably everything, right?”

Ophelia had lost the ability to form coherent speech and could only flap her mouth open and closed when Gian grabbed the collar of her blouse so tightly she feared he might strangle her.

“Answer me. What did he tell you?”

“N-Nothing. The director didn’t say anything about you…”

“Then why are you so afraid of me?” Gian used his free hand to harshly press down on Ophelia’s trembling legs, then he tightened his grip on her collar even further. “Depending on your answer, I’ll—”

“Your Grace—”

Ophelia abruptly shut her mouth in a panic the moment she realized she’d spoken at the same time as Gian, but he gestured with an almost imperceptible jerk of his chin for her to continue.

“Your Grace… Why are you lying?”

“What do you mean, ‘why?’”

“Ah!”

When Ophelia’s head suddenly jerked up in surprise at his question, she accidentally banged it directly against his forehead, hard. Gian recoiled, clutching his forehead with a pained expression.

“Eeek! I-I’m so sorry! I d-d-didn’t mean to…!”

“Tch… It’s fine. Go on.”

“Um, I think some part of your body might not be doing so well!” After shouting that, Ophelia placed one hand against her cheek and began muttering to herself introspectively.

“It might be that some part is so unwell that it’s unable to perform its intended function and is no longer working. I’ve heard some organs don’t show obvious signs when they’re failing, leading them to be dubbed ‘silent organs.’ If that were the problem, it would explain why he doesn’t seem to be aware of it and why I’m shaking so badly. This really might be it! If so, it would be a first for me, but it seems like the likeliest option!”

After muttering that under her breath, Ophelia pounded her fist emphatically into the palm of her opposite hand. In response, Gian, who’d been watching her dubiously the entire time, braced himself for whatever was about to come next.

“Um, I think you should go for an examination at the hospital as soon as possible.”

“…What are you going on about…?”

Glaring at Ophelia while clutching his reddened forehead, Gian finally loosened his grip on the collar of her blouse. Now that she could breathe easier, Ophelia gulped in huge gasps of air, causing her shoulders to bob with each breath she took.

“Um, I… I’m very, er, perceptive, I suppose you could say. There’s a possibility that you may be seriously ill, Your Grace. Please… I’m very worried about you, so please go to the hospital.”

“You’re worried…? About me?”

Gian’s harsh gaze softened ever so slightly, and he made this remark with a look of confusion. Gian’s eyes traced from the serious set of Ophelia’s eyes as she tried her best to convince him, along the tangled strands of boring brown hair that spilled haphazardly around her shoulders and down her back, and finally down to the ground. Then, whispering the word “Worried…” once more, he slowly raised his gaze to look directly into Ophelia’s eyes.

“Hey, what are you doing?!”

Gian, who’d reached out his hand as if intending to touch Ophelia’s hair, turned in the direction the voice had come from and found Claudio standing there with a menacing glare. Claudio scooped Ophelia up, thrusting Gian out of the way in the process, and then he cupped her cheeks with both hands, forcing her to look at him. With those lapis-lazuli eyes filling her field of view and blocking everything else out, Ophelia’s shaking abruptly stopped.

“I told you to stay away from him!”

Faced with Claudio’s enraged expression, Ophelia sucked in a panicked breath that sounded an awful lot like a mouse’s squeak and squeezed her eyes shut, not daring to breathe out again.

“Claudio, you spilled my secret to your lover, didn’t you?” In a stark reversal of his earlier shaken demeanor, Gian glared at Claudio with piercing eyes.

“I already told you, this is my employee. And I haven’t told her anything about you besides your name,” Claudio answered unflinchingly.

Gian’s voice rose in volume as he answered without so much as blinking, “Then why does she seem so afraid?! It’s strange, you have to admit it.”

“Emotionally unstable and suspicious behavior is the norm for her, I’m afraid.”

“How could this possibly be ‘normal’?!”

Wearing an expression that conveyed he was entirely unconvinced, Gian nonetheless took a step back and looked Ophelia over from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. He grasped his chin for a moment, seemingly considering the issue, and then, without another word, Gian turned and walked away.

Once Gian was out of sight, Ophelia finally took a deep breath. “Phew! Director, thank you…”

“We’re leaving. Come on.”

Claudio roughly grabbed Ophelia by the arm and pulled her to her feet, then turned and stormed out of the library with her in tow. Once they’d put the library a good distance behind them, he suddenly came to an abrupt stop.

“Ophelia!”

She heard a loud SLAM!and when she gathered the courage to stiffly force her head up, she found Claudio’s arm resting on the wall just above her head and his face only inches from her own.

“You! You didn’t even manage to retrieve the materials I ordered you to go fetch!”

“Eeek…! I-I’m sorry…!”

“You got caught by that guy because you were dawdling! You didn’t fetch the materials, and you didn’t stay away from the person I told you to avoid! Do you have nothing but air in that head of yours?!”

“I’m so sorryyy!”

The way he leaned over her while she was against the wall was like a cliched trope from a romance novel, and Ophelia never imagined it could be so terrifying. This was when Ophelia learned through personal experience that it was even more frightening to be yelled at by someone with the face of an angel.

“Head back to the office and start cleaning or something!”

“Nng…”

“Respond!”

“Y-Yes, sir!”

With a final glare, perhaps for good measure, Claudio turned and stormed off. For a long moment, Ophelia remained where she was, sagging against the wall behind her in shock.

That was the first time he’s ever called me by name…

Up until this point, Claudio had always referred to Ophelia as “you” or “her.” Honestly, she’d been weirdly self-conscious about that fact, but she’d never expected him to call her by name for the first time while performing the world’s most terrifying wall slam!

Shoulders slumped dejectedly, Ophelia began shuffling up the staircase leading toward the Director’s Office.

“Hey, you…”

A female voice called out from the bottom of the stairs. Ophelia reluctantly turned to look and saw that the same two women who’d previously bad-mouthed her were now standing at the foot of the staircase.

Ugh, this must be what they mean when they say, “When it rains, it pours”! Now they’ve decided to harass me directly. Is that it?

Ophelia gave in and meekly made her way back down the stairs. “Um, how can I help you…?”

The two women clutched the files they were holding to their chests, looked at one another for a moment, then turned their gazes to Ophelia, giving her a thorough once-over. Just as Ophelia was starting to break out in a nervous sweat, the seemingly older of the pair finally spoke.

“Hey, you… Are you okay?”

“Pardon?”

“You just got shouted at by the director, right?”

Ophelia’s head snapped up in surprise, and she realized that the two women were looking at her with their brows furrowed in… concern?

“Did you get punched? Just now, I mean.”

“No! He didn’t hit me! He only scolded me, that’s all…” Ophelia said weakly.

“I’d always thought the director was handsome and impressive, but it turns out he’s actually quite violent, huh?”

“U-Um, that’s… The director was angry because I didn’t do my job properly, that’s all. S-So, he didn’t do anything wrong…” she tried to explain.

“Regardless, it’s horrible to shout at a woman in a place where anyone could see.”

“I had the biggest crush on him for ages, but I’m over it now!”

“Yeah, I was really surprised! I’d heard he was a harsh person, but it’s not okay to act like that toward women.”

“B-But, um…”

Ophelia feigned “looking at the ground dejectedly” in order to check the state of her arms and legs, but they weren’t trembling. These ladies were genuinely worried about her and were expressing sincere empathy. Warmth bloomed in Ophelia’s chest at the realization, and tears gathered in the corners of her eyes.

“Oh, you poor thing! You’ve started crying… It must’ve been really frightening.”

“That’s not it! I’m… I’m happy that you came over to ask if I was okay…” Ophelia scrubbed at her eyes with the backs of her hands, and the two women giggled.

“You haven’t had it easy, have you? We work for the Contracts Division in the same wing as the Director’s Office, so why don’t we all have lunch together sometime?”

“Yeah, we can’t do anything but listen, but talking about it will probably make you feel better.”

“Th-Thank you!”

“But I’m really disappointed in the director… I’ll have to rescind my transfer request.”

“Me too!”

Ophelia looked back and forth between the two women’s faces several times, confused. “Um, what’s a ‘transfer request’?”

“If you submit an official request form, they’ll consider your preferences when determining regulatory personnel reassignment.”

“The Director’s Office is full of handsome elites, so it’s a popular request. They don’t usually hire a secretary for that division, so a lot of people are very jealous of you.”

“Although I suspect quite a few people will be rescinding their transfer requests after that little spectacle.”

Ophelia had been too frightened at the time to notice, but apparently, a lot of people had witnessed Claudio’s outburst.

How embarrassing…!

“See you around. We’re happy to listen any time you want to talk.”

“Hang in there!”

“Thank you!”

Ophelia kept her head bowed until they were out of sight. She suppressed the urge to skip the entire way back to the Director’s Office, where she immediately got to work, humming as she cleaned.

Samael, who was standing in a sunny spot by the window, sipping from a mug of coffee, turned to Ophelia with a smile.

“What’s this? You seem to be in an especially good mood, Lady Narve.”

“Yes! I was able to make some friends because the director is such a scary person.”

“Huh?! What did Claudio… W-Well, I suppose that’s a good thing, then…?”

Ophelia went back to happily sweeping. Samael traced her movements with his eyes for several minutes, but in the end, he muttered to himself, “So she finally made friends, huh?” and returned to basking in the sunlight.

🌷 🌷 🌷

IN the secret room behind the interrogation room’s hidden window, all of the pilfered mats and pillows had been removed, and a specially ordered material had been laid down in their place. It was made of a thick, springy, and extremely durable fabric that wouldn’t tear easily.

Today, Ophelia was accompanied by Bruno. Just like Angelo, during the interrogation, he only observed without ever touching Ophelia, even when she fell over. However, unlike the delighted expression Angelo was always wearing, Bruno gazed down at Ophelia with a sub-frigid, expressionless face.

Ophelia didn’t bother fighting her body during the interrogation, letting it shake and even fall over as it wanted, so when she was done, her hair was a disheveled mess that she was left to desperately try to finger-comb back into place.

“Thank you for your hard work, Lady Narve. You sat in on multiple interrogations today. Are you feeling okay?” In stark contrast to his behavior until just a moment ago, Bruno knelt down beside Ophelia and examined her face closely, a concerned look on his face. The fact that Ophelia’s hands didn’t shake proved that he was genuinely worried about her.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. I can still keep going; bring the next one out!”

“While I appreciate your enthusiasm, that was the last interrogation for today. Please take it easy for the rest of your shift.”

The shape of his narrow, tilted eyes sometimes made him seem cold and aloof, but, when you least expected it, Bruno would break out a gentle smile. Ophelia understood how this gap between his cold image and the tender expressions he sometimes showed drove the ladies from other divisions wild, but she knew her place and wasn’t about to misinterpret it as anything more than friendliness between coworkers.

She was content knowing that tomorrow she’d probably again be privy to another of his rare, special smiles.

🌷 🌷 🌷

“LORD Bruno was arrested?!” Ophelia shouted the moment she arrived at work.

She ran right over to Samael and Angelo, not even bothering to stop and put down her bag first. Both of them were wearing uncharacteristically troubled expressions.

“He hasn’t been formally arrested yet. He was taken to the Ministry of Safety in order to prevent him from fleeing and is being questioned there.”

In response to Samael’s calm answer, Ophelia practically wailed, “Wh-What…?! But why?!”

“Bruno’s under suspicion for breach of trust,” Angelo flippantly explained.

“Breach of trust?! …What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Essentially, they think he might be a spy.”

Ophelia leapt forward as if intending to grab Angelo by the lapels after his casual reply. “Lord Bruno is not that kind of person!”

“We know that. Calm down, Ophelia.”

As Samael went on to explain, a suspicious person had been arrested close to the Cathedral the previous night. This person had entered the country illegally from a neighboring country and was found to be secretly carrying a schedule for the upcoming Ordination Ceremony. The schedule was not technically a classified document, but it wasn’t allowed to be removed from the Royal Palace without permission.

“Just the other day, someone requested a copy of that exact schedule from the Ceremony Coordination Division at the Ministry of Ceremonies. That person was Bruno. But he followed all the appropriate channels and obtained it legally.”

“Even if he were a spy, he wouldn’t do something so obvious that would immediately get him caught.”

Both Samael and Angelo chuckled wryly and wore expressions of disbelief, but it was clear they were enraged. Thanks to their calm demeanors, Ophelia was able to maintain her composure without falling to pieces like she normally would.

Ophelia crossed the room, planning to set her bag down on her desk, but when she passed by Bruno’s desk, her hands trembled faintly.

Two sheets of paper were haphazardly tossed on top of Bruno’s desk, which was normally militaristically tidy. Ophelia presumed the others had been looking at these papers earlier and tossed them down without thinking much of it. Ophelia took a peek and saw that it was the schedule in question. She picked up the sheets, and immediately her hands trembled more urgently.

“This— It’s a fake!”

Angelo gaped in response to Ophelia’s alarmed shout. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know what’s incorrect about it, but this schedule is making my hands shake.”

Samael and Angelo rushed over and peered down at the papers in Ophelia’s hands. All three of them traced each individual letter painstakingly with their eyes, but none of them could figure out what was wrong with the document.

Samael closed his eyes for a brief moment while he thought it over, and then he spoke up. “It would be quickest to go to the Ministry of Ceremonies for confirmation.”

“Then I’ll go downstairs as planned, and leave that up to you.” As he said this, Angelo rummaged through the mess atop his desk until he found what he was looking for—a messenger bag. The bag made a strange clinking noise as Angelo waved to them, then all but skipped out of the room with a big smile.

“Downstairs?” Ophelia asked.

“The suspicious person who was arrested last night is being interrogated by Angelo’s former division,” Samael said.

“His… former division?”

“That’s right, the division he originally worked for before transferring here.”

Is it really okay to just pop in to your previous post and join one of their interrogations? I suppose for Angelo it must be… If so, I’d be willing to bet that messenger bag contains exactly what I think it does… Ophelia decided to pretend she hadn’t noticed anything.

“Huh? Come to think of it, where is the director?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah, Claudio… He immediately headed over to the Ministry of Safety. Contrary to appearances, he’s a worrier. Bruno is the heir of an earl, so he shouldn’t be thrown in the dungeon, but…” Samael slid the schedule into the inner pocket of his jacket.

“I-I’ll go too!” Ophelia shouted, causing Samael to widen his eyes in surprise. Everyone was working on Bruno’s behalf. Ophelia couldn’t stand to sit around idly doing nothing.

“Hm, that might actually be a good idea. Things would probably move more swiftly with you there. All right, let’s go, Lady Narve!”

“Okay!”

Ophelia quickly followed Samael out of the room.

🌷 🌷 🌷

AROUND the same time, at the Ministry of Safety…

“I heard that one of my subordinates has caused some trouble due to my poor supervision and I came to apologize.”

The officials paled as Claudio looked down on them oppressively, not seeming the least bit apologetic.

🌷 🌷 🌷

THE Ministry of Ceremonies building was bustling with visitors, as could only be expected considering that the day of the Ordination Ceremony was swiftly approaching. It seemed likely there was more than one person sucking up to their boss in the offices they passed, because from the moment they’d stepped into the building, Ophelia’s legs hadn’t stopped shaking. But she couldn’t afford to lose it in a place like this. They needed to prove Bruno’s innocence. With one hand trailing along the wall to help maintain her balance, Ophelia focused entirely on keeping up with Samael.

“Excuse me, could you please tell me where the Ceremony Coordination Division is?” Samael called out to a member of the cleaning staff, a teenage boy who was mopping the hallway floor. The serious-faced boy seemed shocked at being addressed personally, but he obediently led the way.

The Ministry of Ceremonies oversaw a wide array of tasks, so each division had its own uniform. The Architectural Institute, where Ophelia had worked, had a green uniform, but the Ceremony Coordination Division’s uniform was light purple.

After Samael explained the situation, the official they were speaking with looked over the schedule Samael was holding.

“Hm, you’re right… This is an old version. The date is correct, but the times are all wrong. I wonder why they handed over the previous version. I will go get the person your coworker spoke with at the time. Please wait just a moment.”

Other guests were already using the reception room, so the two of them were left standing awkwardly just outside the door. Samael grumbled to himself that if Claudio were here, they would probably be receiving very different treatment. Seeing that there weren’t many people inside the office, probably due to many of the employees being out on various errands, eased Ophelia’s shaking a bit, and she took the opportunity to lean against the wall, trying to get her breathing under control.

The official who hurried over to speak with them was a young man in his early twenties, by Ophelia’s estimate. He tugged on the sleeve of his light-purple uniform and bowed his head apologetically.

Huh? This person…

Something immediately struck Ophelia as off about his behavior. It was only faintly, but the shaking of her hands that had just begun to abate seemed to worsen again.

“I was the one who gave your coworker the schedule. I’m terribly sorry for my mistake; here is the most recent version.”

Samael, who accepted the document from the young man with an incredulous expression, hadn’t noticed Ophelia’s shaking. If she didn’t do anything, Samael was likely to dismiss the incident as a careless but genuine mistake and leave without questioning the young man any further.

“U-Um…!”

The two men turned in unison to look at Ophelia after her impulsive outburst. She’d succeeded in getting their attention, but now she couldn’t find the right words to continue and ended up flapping her hands around uselessly in front of her chest in her panic. Seeing this strange behavior, the young man smiled gently.

“I didn’t realize there was such a lovely lady working in the Director’s Office. I’ve been to the Ministry of Justice many times, but never spotted you. May I ask your name, miss?”

“What?”

In stark contrast to his previously cowed demeanor, the young man now straightened his posture and assumed a dignified expression. Furthermore, his eyes seemed to almost sparkle in a way that Ophelia found alarming. When she reflexively recoiled, scuttling back a few steps, Samael moved at the same time to cut in front of her protectively.

“More importantly, I want to know why you gave our coworker the old version.”

“Of course, it was an oversight on my part.”

Even as he said this, the young man peered around Samael’s looming frame with an almost eerily wide smile, trying to catch another glimpse of Ophelia.

Samael agilely moved to block his view, but the young man was not so easily dissuaded. He moved again, trying to position himself so he could peek around Samael at Ophelia, but was again foiled by Samael side-stepping as well. This continued on for a while, with the three of them shuffling awkwardly around in a circle like some kind of odd dance, until Samael finally got fed up and grabbed the young man’s head with one hand, holding him in place.

“You are disgustingly persistent, aren’t you?”

“I can’t let this chance pass me by. My instincts are insisting on that.”

“You’re not to look at my girl with those lecherous eyes, you hear me?!”

Ophelia’s ears twitched at the words “my girl,” but before she could think any more of it, Samael pressed the schedule into her hands and gave her a little push on her back.

“I want you to head back to the Director’s Office, okay? Wait there until Angelo returns! Don’t step one foot outside the room, got it?”

“Y-Yes!” Ophelia replied automatically, then turned and ran off.

She exited through the Ministry of Ceremonies’ front door, but the carriage she and Samael had ridden over in was already gone, and she had no idea how to call for another. From here, the Architectural Institute was closer… Ophelia decided to go there and have Bernard get her a carriage.

Her course determined, Ophelia set off running once more, breathing hard. She hadn’t made it far when she felt a sudden jerk on the sleeve of her jacket that sent her tumbling to her knees.

“Ahh!”

She felt the impact as she hit the ground, but it didn’t hurt as much as she would’ve expected. Ophelia nervously peeled open her tightly shut eyes to find that she’d landed against a broad shoulder. A few strands of very familiar strawberry-blond hair fell over the black jacket covering that shoulder.

“Direc—”

Just as Ophelia attempted to speak, someone roughly yanked the schedule she’d been holding out of her hand. It happened so quickly that she didn’t even have the time to raise her voice in protest.

Ophelia frowned when the delayed sensation of pain in her hand caught up to her, and something black cut across the corner of her field of view, moving very quickly.

“You bastard! What did you do to my girl?!”

Right in front of where Ophelia was sitting on the ground, supported by Claudio, Samael was kneeling on the back of the struggling assailant, restraining him. Ophelia looked more closely at the face, with its cheek pressed into the dirt, and realized it belonged to the teenage boy they’d seen mopping the floors earlier.

“Your girl…?” Claudio muttered.

That’s not what you should be focusing on right now! Ophelia wanted to shout, but she’d learned her lesson and kept her mouth shut.

Ophelia was momentarily dissociating from the shock of all that had happened in such a short time when Claudio gently tapped her cheek. She looked up and found Claudio looking down at her with his brows furrowed in what seemed to be concern rather than anger.

“Are you hurt anywhere, Ophelia?”

Ophelia’s heart raced when their eyes met. “No, I’m fine… Thank you, Director.”

“I received a message from Samael that he was heading to the Ministry of Ceremonies, so I hurried right over, but… You were supposed to remain in the Director’s Office…” Right in front of her eyes, Claudio’s expression turned stormy.

“No, wait, Claudio…” Samael hurried to intercede once the guards who’d come running had taken custody of the cleaner. “I determined that Lady Narve’s assistance was necessary to confirm the authenticity of the documents I’d come to collect…”

“She’s the type to run headfirst into danger regardless of being totally defenseless, so I told you to be careful with her! And I was right—she ran straight into this mess, did she not?!”

“Weeell, I mean technically, yes? But there’s no way I could’ve anticipated something like this would happen!” Samael protested.

“And what are you going on about with ‘my girl’?! Ophelia doesn’t belong to you!”

“Wait, wait, Claudio. Calm down. That’s not important right now, is it?”

“Like hell it’s not!”

Samael flashed a charming smile, trying to placate an enraged Claudio.

It’s like a fight between brothers!

Ophelia picked up the schedule that had fallen on the ground in the scuffle. “Um, I think this is the correct one. My hands aren’t shaking.”

The crowd of curious onlookers who’d gathered to watch the two especially tall men’s argument reacted with begrudging admiration to Ophelia’s nerve in interrupting.

“Ultimately, it might’ve been the right move to bring her along,” Claudio conceded. “And as a fortunate bonus, it seems she flushed out a criminal to boot.”

“Right! Exactly, that’s what I was thinking.” When Samael enthusiastically clapped him on the shoulder, Claudio made a disgusted face and let out a long-suffering sigh.

“Also, I suspect that the incorrect schedule that started all this was handed over intentionally. The official we spoke to was lying,” Ophelia added.

“I also noticed that!” Samael exclaimed. “I’ve already made arrangements for him to be brought to the Ministry of Justice for questioning!”

Claudio sighed again for good measure, cutting a scathing glare at Samael, who flashed a thumbs-up sign while making this boastful announcement.

Ophelia looked down at her hands holding the schedule. She’d been vaguely aware of it for some time now, but there was no avoiding it anymore. The trembling in her hands, which persisted when she was with Samael, had stopped once Claudio appeared. While the fact that fewer people were around certainly helped, Ophelia believed that his presence made the most difference in putting her at ease.

“I do not lie. Don’t listen to any other voices but mine.”

Remembering those words made Ophelia’s shaking stop all at once, but they ignited a different kind of restlessness inside her that she couldn’t calm. As she was pondering why this might be, she gasped and jerked her head up.

This isn’t the time to be worrying about such things! We have to save Bruno!

The onlookers who’d gathered around to watch the spectacle from a distance had begun to disperse as well. The three of them climbed into a carriage that Samael had called and headed back to the Ministry of Justice. Stuffed like sardines in the narrow carriage, Claudio complained that it was “Too cramped in here!” Samael laughed good-naturedly, and Ophelia sank back into the corner she’d started to become very familiar with in recent days.

🌷 🌷 🌷

IN the end, the truth of the matter was fairly simple.

The cleaner had been drowning in debt when a man he met in a gambling den coerced him into stealing the schedule for the Ordination Ceremony. It seemed he’d been targeted because his job gave him access to the entire Ministry of Ceremonies. After overhearing Samael’s conversation with the Ceremony Coordination Division staff, he’d misunderstood and thought there was a new version of the schedule, which he’d impulsively decided to steal, hoping he could receive an even larger payment for it. Except, the version the cleaner had already passed to his contact was the newest version.

It turned out that the official who’d given Bruno the old version of the schedule was the same man who’d been bothering Miranda. It seemed he’d developed a grudge against Bruno for interfering in his “courtship” of Miranda because he admitted that he’d handed over the incorrect version of the schedule as “a little prank.”

However, the copy of the schedule Bruno had been given didn’t match the one the arrested suspect was carrying, which ironically ended up exonerating Bruno of all suspicion, thanks to the jealous official’s “little prank.”

“I’m very sorry for the trouble I’ve caused for all of you. Furthermore, I’m deeply grateful for your efforts on my behalf.”

Despite the formality of his words, Bruno’s demeanor was light-hearted as he bowed his head slightly to his gathered coworkers. He had been released immediately after his involvement was disproven and had returned to the Director’s Office on his own with a quiet dignity that made it seem as if nothing had happened at all.

“Lord Bruno, I’m so glad you’re all right.”

Bruno’s eyes narrowed happily when Ophelia said that. “I’m fine. Although they brought me in for questioning, it was conducted in a reception room reserved for nobles, and I could hear the director shouting just outside the room, so I felt assured that they wouldn’t dare rough me up.”

Claudio wrinkled his nose in displeasure at the chuckle Bruno let out while recounting his ordeal. Angelo was lounging at his desk, chin resting casually on his hand, and Samael was in his favorite spot by the window, drinking a cup of coffee. Ophelia felt a deep sense of peace come over her at the ordinary scene in the Director’s Office.

“When I arrived this morning, everyone was already hard at work getting ready to prove your innocence, Lord Bruno. That proves just how much everyone here trusts you.”

Bruno tilted his head to the side the tiniest bit in response to Ophelia’s remark. “I don’t know about ‘trust’… The fact that I can be in the same room with you, Lady Narve, is the only proof I need that I’m squeaky clean, don’t you think?”

“Oh!” everyone exclaimed in unison, looking back and forth at one another. Claudio covered his mouth with his hand, irritated with himself for the noise that had unintentionally escaped from him, and quickly returned his gaze to the paperwork on his desk.

After a long moment of silence, Bruno’s eyebrows sagged sheepishly, and he spoke. “…It seems that everyone overlooked that fact. Perhaps I am trusted after all.”

“That’s right! The Director’s Office wouldn’t be able to function without you, Bruno!” Angelo cried, beaming with joy.

“Angelo, you seem to be in a good mood today…”

“Of course I am! During my first ‘downstairs interrogation’ in ages, the criminal obediently confessed everything, so I’m in a great mood!”

“…Obediently…” Ophelia repeated quietly, her mouth twitching involuntarily.

“Sure, it would’ve been more fun if he’d resisted a bit more, but we didn’t have time for that.”

“Knock it off, Angelo.” Bruno covered both of Ophelia’s ears with his hands.

🌷 🌷 🌷

BECAUSE of “the Bruno incident,” they determined that the case they were investigating was related to the Ordination Ceremony, and as a result, the number of interrogations decreased significantly. Today, Ophelia wasn’t scheduled to attend a single interrogation, and since that meant she had nothing to do, she decided to clean the staff-only side of the interrogation room on her own.

With the infamously skilled members of the Director’s Office team working on it, this case should be solved quickly. Once that happened, Ophelia’s task would be complete, and she would be returned to the Architectural Institute.

Glancing over at the special cushioned flooring in the space behind the window that had been prepared specifically for her, Ophelia couldn’t help feeling a little guilty.

After she’d finished her cleaning, Ophelia left the interrogation room and headed for the stairs, intending to take a little coffee break in the Director’s Office. But when she arrived at the staircase, Miranda was waiting for her.

“There’s a visitor here to see you.”

“Huh? Are you sure they’re here for me?”

“Oh, yeah. They’re waiting in this reception room over here.”

Ophelia’s hands didn’t shake. It seemed there really was a visitor. But why was Miranda, of all people, waiting to tell her?

Ophelia nervously peeked in through the door that Miranda opened for her to find Stella waiting within, dressed in a gaudy gown that seemed totally out of place amongst the room’s simple furnishings. Two ladies stood behind the sofa that Stella was sitting on, neither of whom had been a part of her entourage that day at the art museum. A bodyguard stood beside the door.

“G-Good day, Miss… Er, that, is, Lady Stella… Uh, um…”

“Don’t even bother with a polite greeting if you’re just going to fumble it.”

“I’m sorry…”

Ophelia’s shoulders drooped at Stella’s frigid tone. With a mocking chuckle, Miranda left Ophelia’s side and went over to stand behind Stella with the other two ladies.

So she’s part of Stella’s entourage…

The reason she’d shown up in the Director’s Office so many times for no real reason must’ve been to do reconnaissance on Ophelia. Just imagining the depressing scene that was undoubtedly about to play out caused a huge sigh to slip unbidden from Ophelia’s mouth.

“Hm, it seems you have some idea as to the reason for my visit.” Stella’s eyebrows arched almost as if in challenge, and she flashed a fearless smile. Her black hair fell in gentle waves that glistened in the lamplight, and her azure eyes were fixed unfalteringly on Ophelia. “Sit.”

In that moment, the opposing sofa that Stella gestured to dismissively looked an awful lot like the one from the interrogation room. The suspect’s side of the interrogation room, of course. Once she was sitting on the sofa, Ophelia keenly felt the weight of Stella’s entourage and the bodyguard all looking down at her, and she did her best to shrink in on herself as much as possible, unconsciously making herself a smaller target.

“How long are you planning to work in the Director’s Office?” Stella asked, her expression sweet as pie but her tone biting.

“Um, I was told that it would be until the case they’re c-currently working on is finished.”

“Even if they’re short-staffed, I don’t see why the Director of the Ministry of Justice would need to borrow a secretary from the Ministry of Ceremonies, but I’m sure that being the discerning person that he is, Lord Claudio must have his reasons.”

Carelessly sweeping away a strand of hair that had fallen over her shoulder with her right hand, Stella leaned forward and peered down into Ophelia’s face. Ophelia involuntarily swallowed hard under the force of Stella’s searching gaze.

“I heard that you were seen holding hands with Lord Claudio during your outing.”

“H-H-Holding hands?! O-Of course not, th-that’s ludicrous! I was merely holding onto his jacket so that I wouldn’t fall!”

Crap, maybe that was the wrong thing to say…

The gaggle of young ladies hovering behind Stella all looked at Ophelia with disbelief and laughed mockingly. Shooting daggers at Ophelia as she cringed in fear, Stella leaned forward even further and said, “You must have no sense at all, walking around touching a man who has a fiancée. Lord Claudio may be your boss, but he’s also a duke and the younger brother of His Majesty the King. He’s certainly not someone a person like you has any business touching so casually. Mind your place.”

Unable to raise her head, Ophelia darted a glance up at Stella. The smile Stella had been wearing was gone, and she was glaring at Ophelia without so much as blinking. Ophelia clenched her hands into fists in her lap and deeply bowed with only her head, not standing.

“I’m sorry. It’s nothing like what you’re thinking, Lady Stella. I have a tendency to stumble a lot, so the Director was just being considerate… But, um… I will be more careful in the future.” Ophelia remained in that awkward position, bowing so deeply that her chest touched her knees, intending to stay that way until Stella forgave her. With her hands still clenched, she stared at her feet and waited.

“…As long as you’ve learned your lesson, I suppose I’ll forgive you this once. See to it that you don’t carelessly get too close to Lord Claudio again.”

Stella elegantly rose to her feet, so Ophelia also scrambled to stand and bowed again.

“Enough already. …Let’s walk back together, at least partway.”

“Huh?”

As if clearing a path for Stella to lead the way, her entourage broke apart into two groups. Ophelia reluctantly followed Stella, passing through the gauntlet with rounded shoulders, coming to stand beside Stella.

Stella set off walking, glancing back over her shoulder and signaling with a barely perceptible nod of her chin. In response, the other ladies waited a moment before they started walking as well. After confirming that her entourage had left an appropriate amount of space between them, Stella sidled up to Ophelia. The cloying scent of her floral perfume enveloped them both.

“Hey, you… Have you been meeting with your mother?” Stella addressed this question to Ophelia in a quiet voice, her head facing forward.

Is she trying to imply that if I don’t watch myself and stay away from Claudio, she’s going to do something to Mother, who’s living all by herself, unprotected?! Ophelia blanched at the thought.

“Uh, um… M-My mother…? I…”

“Have you been meeting her? I heard you have.”

“…Only once every few months…”

“I see. I heard that she became a commoner and is living in the city.”

“Yes, she… She lives with her husband. He’s a commoner.”

“…Is that so… I wonder if she’s happy.”

“I believe so. She seemed to be in good health when I saw her the other day… And her husband is doing well… They seem very happy. So, about my mother… Um…”

“I see… She’s happy. That’s… good.”

A faint exhale of air escaped from Stella, and her eyes narrowed. Ophelia checked her own hands, but they weren’t trembling. It seemed that, against all odds, Stella wasn’t planning to do anything to Ophelia’s mother and was genuinely glad to hear she was living happily.

What did she come here to do?

Ophelia stole a covert glance at Stella’s face in profile. Just as on the night of the ball, it was stunningly beautiful.

The entourage of ladies snickered as they followed behind, and the guard looked down at Ophelia with an intimidating aura emanating from him.

But Stella was different. She hadn’t come here to threaten Ophelia. She knew that because the entire time Stella was speaking in the reception room, Ophelia’s hands hadn’t stopped shaking. She didn’t care at all that Ophelia had dared to touch Claudio.

But Stella was the daughter of a marquis, which meant that the lower-ranked Ophelia couldn’t address her without first being spoken to. All she could do was keep pace with Stella, who walked along in silence.

When they reached the staircase, Stella suddenly turned to look at her.

“Hey, I was wondering…”

Just as Stella began to speak, Ophelia’s whole body swayed. Then, all at once, her knees buckled, and she lost her balance.

“Wh— Hey, you…!”

Stella reached out her hand, but Ophelia instinctively curled into a ball as she fell headfirst down the stairs.

The entourage of ladies shrieked, and the guard’s feet pounded on the ground as he ran.

Ophelia tumbled halfway down the staircase before she suddenly felt her body being lifted into the air.

“Phew, we made it just in… or, well, almost in time…”

“Ohhh… Oh, oh, oh…”

Ophelia didn’t understand why her entire body was quaking like this, but she recognized that she was being held in someone’s arms. And that voice just now had sounded awfully familiar…

“…Duke Vigatto?!”

At Stella’s surprised cry, Ophelia snapped her head up and saw that she was cradled in the arms of an unfamiliar, strongly built man. Beside him stood Gian, his blue eyes narrowed, gazing tenderly at Ophelia’s face. She couldn’t understand what his expression meant, and she was so flustered that she couldn’t find anything to say, her mouth merely flapping uselessly in her attempts to speak.

“That’s Duke Vigatto…?”

“He’s so beautiful!”

It seemed that Stella knew Gian, but the other ladies who’d gathered around her were seeing him for the first time. They’d completely forgotten about Ophelia falling down the stairs and were all staring at Gian rapturously.

“Lady Meucci, even if she is your love rival, shoving Lady Narve down the stairs is too cruel.” Gian smiled faintly as he said that. It was only his words that strongly rebuked Stella.

“…G-Goodness, I did nothing of the sort. That clumsy girl slipped and fell all on her own.” Stella’s eyes widened for a moment, but she quickly schooled her features and snapped open her fan, using it to conceal the lower half of her face.

“That’s right! Lady Stella didn’t do anything! I fell on my own!” Ophelia insisted.

Youare the reason I suddenly started shaking so hard that I fell down the stairs! Ophelia wanted to scream, but she just wrapped her arms around her shaking body and looked up at Gian.

“I suppose if you say so, then it must be so…”

“What a scene. Let’s go.”

As she flounced past, Stella glared at Ophelia and continued down the stairs, holding up the hem of her skirt so she wouldn’t trip. The entourage and bodyguard filed down the stairs next, following her.

“Anyways, let’s get to the infirmary,” Gian said.

“Oh! Oh… I-I’m fine! I can walk!” Ophelia insisted.

“No, you can’t. You need to be seen by a doctor. This guy is my bodyguard, so don’t worry.”

With this, Gian set off walking with determined strides, leading the way to the infirmary himself. There was no way Ophelia could fight her way out of the bodyguard’s beefy arms, and her shaking had lessened a bit, so she gave in and let them take her to the infirmary. Once they arrived, the bodyguard deposited Ophelia on the exam bed then took up a position outside the door to give them privacy.

The palace doctor examined her head and arms, where she’d banged into the stairs during her tumble, and instructed her to rest for a while in the infirmary. Once the examination was complete, for some reason, Gian chased the doctor out of the room, leaving just the two of them alone.

“Um, I… I’m used to falling down the stairs,” Ophelia said. “It happens quite often, so I’m fine, really. So, um, I should really…”

“You did seem quite used to it, based on the way you instinctively protected your head and didn’t tense up or attempt to fight it.”

Gian cut off Ophelia’s attempt to talk her way out of staying and cracked his back, as if settling in for a long wait. Seeing no other option, Ophelia reluctantly sat on the corner of the bed and snuck a furtive glance at Gian.

With a sigh, Gian plopped down on the doctor’s chair. His characteristic intense gaze was gone, and he folded his legs in a relaxed, natural manner.

Ophelia’s eyes dropped to her hands. She turned them over, quizzically examining the palms, and then flipped them back over to look at the backs of her hands, but for some reason, they weren’t shaking. Following the distinct change in his demeanor, all of her shaking had stopped.

“Why is an earl’s daughter so accustomed to falling down stairs? In the first place, it seems like every time I run into you, you end up falling over somehow or other,” Gian asked, cocking his head to the side charmingly. His voice was higher in pitch than usual, thready and uncertain. It was always a bit on the higher side, but normally, he seemed to speak from his belly, in a cold and authoritative tone.

Maybe he’s just playing the part of a duke and actually has a more passive, people-pleasing type of personality? Is that why my body shakes when he’s around? But that wouldn’t explain why I shake so hard that I can’t even stand…

Still feeling that something was off, Ophelia took advantage of the first opportunity she’d had thus far to examine Gian while she was in full command of her senses.

“Um, what are you doing here, Your Grace?”

“Gian is fine.”

“No, I couldn’t possibly…”

“Call me Gian. We’re friends, right?”

“…I wouldn’t dare be so presumptuous as to make such a claim…” While she looked at Gian’s cheerful, smiling blue eyes, a tangle of nerves bloomed in her chest, and sweat broke out on her back.

“I came here today to get to know you better,” Gian said.

“I’m not of a suitable rank for friendship with a person of your status.”

“You were sincerely worried about me. That made me happier than you could possibly understand.”

Something tells me this person doesn’t have many friends.

Ophelia looked away from Gian, who was clearly not listening to her protests. His expression on the staircase, and then his words just now… The sudden change in his behavior… Suddenly, Ophelia felt certain she understood.

Ophelia’s head snapped up, and her eyes met Gian’s.

“Claudio told you my secret, didn’t he?”

“The director told you my secret, didn’t he?”

They both spoke at the same moment, their words echoing in the small room.

🌷 🌷 🌷

STELLA shoved Ophelia, causing her to fall down the stairs.

Claudio had been with Samael and the others in the small meeting room next to the interrogation room, going over the results of that day’s interrogations, when a secretary from another division had knocked frantically on the meeting room door. The woman, who claimed she’d just so happened to be at the scene at the time, was so distraught that it had been impossible to get much more information out of her.

Claudio left Samael in charge and flew out of the room.

When they’d run into Stella at the National Art Museum that day, she’d complained fiercely. What was his relationship with Ophelia? Why were they walking together so closely? He’d explained that Ophelia was his employee and they’d come to the art museum on business, but Stella had become nearly hysterical, laying into Claudio relentlessly. The sound of her voice irritated him, so at his wits’ end, Claudio told Stella he had to get back to work and sent her on her way. He’d closed the curtains as soon as they’d gotten into the carriage to head back to the Royal Palace, but he was sure Stella had been watching from somewhere.

He’d had a bad feeling Stella might do something. But he also didn’t think she’d do something this stupid. Somehow, Ophelia had become his concern, but that didn’t mean he could be watching her twenty-four hours a day.

Why did troublesome people always seem to gravitate toward her? When he sent her to the library to retrieve some materials, she’d again run into Gian, an infamous recluse who rarely ever went anywhere. Every time Claudio recalled the sight of Gian reaching out to touch Ophelia’s hair while she was collapsed on the floor, it ignited a fiery rage in his stomach.

…No… It shouldn’t matter if he does something as inconsequential as touching her hair. It has nothing to do with me. Clicking his tongue irritably, Claudio raced down the stairs, causing the people he came across to scatter to make way for him.

When Claudio slammed the infirmary’s door open, Ophelia looked over from where she sat on the bed. Although he was relieved to see she looked healthy enough, he wasn’t nearly as pleased to see Gian sitting in a chair right beside her.

“You again?!”

“That’s what I was just about to say!” Gian didn’t even bother trying to be discreet about inching his chair closer to Ophelia. “Claudio. You always seem to show up to interfere with us, don’t you?”

“What?! Oi, Ophelia, don’t get close to that guy, you hear me?”

“Heyyy, now. Don’t you be calling Ophie by her name so familiarly like that.”

“Why are you calling her by her nickname?!”

A thought occurred to Ophelia as she found herself sandwiched between Claudio and Gian, looking back and forth between them busily. These two might actually be pretty close…

I mean, yeah, they’re shouting at each other right now, but they seem to know one another pretty well, so I get the impression they’re close… Or at least having fun?

“Nooo! I don’t want to go home! I came all the way to the dreary and boring Ministry of Justice today to get to know Ophie better,” Gian said.

“Why did the receptionist let a suspicious person like you in, anyway?!” Claudio roared.

“Ophie, sorry, but I took it upon myself to investigate you a bit,” Gian said, turning to her. “You’re the sheltered daughter of an earl, who, like all his predecessors, is a serious and hard-working person serving at the Architectural Institute. Your nickname is Ophie. Due to poor health, you rarely go out, and since reaching the age of maturity, you’ve started working in the same department as your family, where they can protect you. At least until, for some reason, you were suddenly transferred to the Ministry of Justice on Claudio’s orders…”

“Maybe you haven’t heard, but these days they have a word for people like you,” Claudio interjected. “They call you ‘stalkers.’”

“Call me what you like. I’ve decided to stop lying about who I am in front of her. After all, the day I first met Ophie was the anniversary of Gian’s passing. I’m sure that it was Gian who saw how lonely I am and arranged for our paths to cross.”

“Oi, you…!” Claudio shouted, attempting to cut off Gian midway through this incomprehensible declaration, but it seemed he couldn’t come up with anything more to say, so he just closed his mouth and ran a hand roughly through his hair, pushing back his bangs.

“…The anniversary of Gian’s passing?”

Gian blinked as if surprised by Ophelia’s whispered question. Finally realizing that she didn’t know anything, Gian smiled and nodded emphatically. “That’s right. Gian Vigatto is already dead.”

Ophelia leapt up and scooted to the far side of the bed, pulling her knees up to her chest protectively. “Eek! Y-You really are a ghost after all?!”

“No ghost could possibly be this annoying.” Claudio tugged on Ophelia’s arm, moving her back to her original seat. Then he sat down heavily on the bed beside her.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing, sitting next to her so casually?!” Gian cried.

“It’s to prevent you from brazenly touching her!” Claudio snapped, smacking away the hand Gian had been reaching out in Ophelia’s direction. “She’s just a plain shut-in from an earl’s family. Don’t drag her into your situation.”

“Urk… A low-ranking homebody… It kind of stings when you say it so frankly like that…” Ophelia muttered.

“You poor thing, Ophie. Leave this foul-mouthed cretin and come away with me.”

Once again, Claudio smacked Gian’s hand away. Stuck between the two men, practically growling at one another, Ophelia was left raising and lowering her hands nervously. Claudio reached out to agilely grab her left hand and pull Ophelia toward him.

“She’s currently on loan to our department with the intention of returning her to the Architectural Institute in the near future. So don’t get her caught up in anything troublesome.”

Claudio’s words delivered a sharp stab of pain to Ophelia’s chest.

So I really am going to be sent back soon?

This time, Gian tugged on Ophelia’s right arm while she was zoning out due to the shock she’d just received.

“Right, which is all the more reason why you have no say in this,” Gian said. “Get lost already!”

Claudio gritted his teeth, having no comeback, and pulled harder on Ophelia’s hand. Seeing that, Gian, too, pulled harder on the arm he was clutching.

Wasn’t there some kind of fable like this?! Let’s see, how did it go again?

Ophelia began to dissociate.

“I just want to get to know Ophie better. Don’t interfere! Besides, Ophie’s the one who gets to decide for herself, right?”

Frowning, Claudio suddenly released Ophelia’s arm, causing her to crash into Gian. From her prone position, she glanced up at Claudio and found him making an uncharacteristically uncertain face.

“Director, I… Um, well, if it’s just being friends, I don’t mind.”

For some reason, this seemed to come as a huge shock to Claudio, because his shoulders slumped and he slowly rose to his feet. “I see… Then I guess I’m just getting in the way…”

“What makes you say that?! Please stay, Director! If you’re not here, I’ll start shaking again!”

Ophelia latched onto Claudio, preventing him from leaving the room. Relief flashed momentarily across his face before it settled back into his normal stoic expression.

Gian, watching this exchange with one hand cupping his chin, interjected, “You know, I’ve been wondering about that. Why do you start shaking every time we meet, Ophie?”

“Umm, well… That’s, uh…”

“But you aren’t shaking right now. I don’t suppose that has anything to do with my change of heart, does it?”

Gian’s blue eyes drilled straight into Ophelia. If she looked away, it would be seen as confirmation of Gian’s suspicions. But if she tried to play it off as something else, Ophelia would start shaking. What should she do?

“So this is your secret…” Gian pronounced in a slow but sure tone. His eyes almost seemed to sparkle.

After looking around frantically for a moment, Ophelia turned to look up at Claudio with tears in her eyes, only for him to reel back with a look of shock.

“D-Director…”

“D-Don’t look at me like that.”

“Huh?”

I can’t… look at him?

Tears blurred Ophelia’s vision, and she slowly removed the hand that had been clinging to Claudio’s sleeve. Immediately, Gian took the now-free hand in his and rose from his chair, kneeling on one knee on the ground before her.

“Your Grace?!”

“He’s right; it was too high-handed of me, pushing my situation one-sidedly onto you. I will accept your secret, too. Sharing both our secrets provides incentive for both sides to keep the other’s secret, after all.”

“U-Um, in any case, please stand up…!”

“I am Gian’s older sister, Julietta.”

“Huh?”

Gian’s expression as he looked up at Ophelia, still kneeling in front of her, was gentle and open. It must’ve been incredibly freeing to be able to confess a secret out loud that he’d never been able to tell anyone. Ophelia, on the other hand, having no opportunity to prepare herself for such a shocking revelation, was left reeling.

“Gian died twenty years ago. Our father, unable to accept the death of his only son, announced that it was his daughter, Julietta, who had died, and from that day on, I became Gian.”

“Huh? Wha… J-Julietta?”

“Knock it off, Gian. Slow down. Ophelia is having trouble processing.”

Claudio smacked Gian’s hand away and gave Ophelia, who was frozen with her eyes so wide they looked almost completely white, a little shake. That snapped her out of her daze, and she glanced first down at Gian, who was still kneeling on the ground, and then up at Claudio standing beside him.

“Um, Director, what is your relationship with Duke Vigatto…?”

Ophelia couldn’t wrap her head around Gian’s story. It seemed easiest to ask Claudio to clarify, given that he seemed to already know what was going on. And so, having calmed down enough to think clearly, that was what Ophelia did.

“…The Vigatto ducal house has had ties with the royal family for generations, and Gian and I, being around the same age, were childhood friends. The Vigatto manor is in a quiet spot at the edge of the Royal City with abundant nature, so whenever I couldn’t stand the annoying people always clamoring around me anymore, I would flee there under the pretense of paying a sick visit to Gian.”

“Was that back when you were still a prince?” Ophelia asked.

“Back then, he was a handsome boy with lustrous pink hair, a sweet and docile prince with none of the prickly glares that have become his trademark expression these days.” Gian, the only person still wearing a carefree smile, broke into the conversation.

Claudio audibly gritted his teeth and gave a demonstration of one of those “prickly glares” of his. Entirely unruffled, Gian stood and came to sit beside Ophelia, smiling brightly.

“My brother, Gian, was born with a heart condition. Claudio was the only person who continued to visit my brother until the very end, even knowing there was absolutely no benefit to him in befriending Gian. For my brother, who could barely get out of bed, Claudio was his only connection with the outside world. Looking forward to Claudio’s next visit was one of his few pleasures in life.”

Claudio’s eyebrows drew together, and his mouth clenched, presumably as he recalled his friend’s pitiful situation.

“In the end, Gian succumbed to his heart condition, but our parents were devastated over the loss of their heir, and our father in particular just couldn’t accept it… So he announced that it was his daughter, Julietta, who’d died suddenly and unexpectedly. I’ve been living as Gian ever since.”

Do crazy things like this actually happen in real life?! No matter how grief-stricken the parents might be, it’s insane to report that their living daughter is the one who died! …But I guess it must be true, or else he… er, she?… wouldn’t be living as Gian.

Ophelia had a hard time believing it, but her body wasn’t shaking… She wrapped her arms around her body, as if to confirm this fact, and looked up at Claudio. He, too, was examining Ophelia closely. His serious eyes seemed to be speaking to her, conveying that, against all reason, the story Gian was telling was indeed true.

Ophelia was still frozen in place with eyes the size of saucers when Gian continued with a gentle smile, “Sigh, it feels so good to tell the truth. Thank you for listening. I think I really needed to share this secret with someone. I thought it was just a coincidence that I met you on Julietta’s death anniversary, but maybe it was always meant to be you I shared this with.”

Ophelia examined Gian’s face closely, looking at him straight-on. Now that she knew he had been born a woman, Ophelia could certainly see it in his facial features, but his mannerisms and bearing were all distinctly male. The months and years he’d lived as a man must’ve made him this way, Ophelia realized. As the weight of the revelation that had been thrust upon her finally began to sink in, Ophelia felt dizzy.

“But, that’s… How were you able to fool everyone?” she asked.

“Gian and I looked a lot alike. That’s probably one of the reasons Father couldn’t get over his loss. Even within our household, the only people who know the truth are a very small number of servants who tend to our daily needs. Father died when I was twenty, and Mother retired to the countryside, unable to bear this deception any longer.”

Unable to decide what, if anything, she should say to Gian, who spoke with a bright smile, Ophelia felt a single tear roll helplessly down her cheek.

“You’re crying for me, aren’t you?”

Was it Gian or Julietta who reached out to wipe away Ophelia’s tear with their thumb?

“This is the first time I’ve ever heard such a sad lie…”

Another tear escaped from Ophelia’s eye as she said that.

🌷 🌷 🌷

ONCE Ophelia had stopped crying, Gian waved cheerfully and left.

Ophelia watched, feeling almost as if she were looking at everything from outside of her body, as Claudio gruffly scolded the receptionist, instructing them, “Don’t let that guy in here again.”

When Claudio turned and started walking away, Ophelia hurried after him.

“Julietta was being raised properly up until that point, you know,” he said. “It was only after taking Gian’s place that he ended up turning out like that…”

“Sniffle…”

She’d stopped crying, but everyone they passed sent Ophelia pitying looks when they caught sight of her sniffling as she struggled to keep pace with Claudio. Without a doubt, they all assumed Claudio had made her cry again.

Claudio glanced over at Ophelia and came to an abrupt halt, seeming to have recalled something. “Come to think of it…”

“Yes?” Ophelia, who’d stopped when Claudio did, looked up at him in confusion.

“You never did tell me why you attended that ball.”

“…! Wh-Which ball are you referring to…?”

“The ball hosted by the royal family. The one where your brother fell through the rotten floorboards in the open-air corridor.”

“Umm, well…”

Before Claudio’s eyes, Ophelia’s face grew paler and paler.

The only reason she’d attended that ball had been because of the nagging desire to catch a glimpse of Claudio’s beautiful face up close. But she’d been warned that if anyone mentioned Claudio’s beautiful appearance, he’d become as enraged as a roaring fire! She definitely couldn’t admit the truth to him…

“Um, I, uh… I went to help my brother look for a lady to court…”

“Oi, your hands are shaking.”

“No, um, it was… A friend! She was attending, and I wanted to see her since we hadn’t met in ages…”

“Now your legs are shaking too! I won’t get angry, so just tell me. You know I can’t stand lies.”

“B-But you’re already angry…!”

“Ugh, I’m not! Just tell me!”

Ophelia pressed her hands against her stomach, which had started cramping with anxiety, and she steeled herself for a vicious scolding. “Um… I also attended Margrave Bressando’s wedding ceremony. I saw you amongst the attendees, Director.”

“Hmm, I didn’t notice you there.”

“And after I returned to the Royal City, my brother received an invitation to a ball…”

“Uh-huh.”

“And your name was on the list of attendees…”

“Yeah…”

“And I… I thought that I’d really like to catch a glimpse of you, one more time, up close if I could… I know it’s terribly presumptuous of me, but I got carried away and decided to attend for that reason!”

Ophelia bowed her head as she all but shouted this confession in a rush before she could lose her nerve. As a result, she missed the rare expression of bewildered uncertainty that flashed across Claudio’s face.

“You… wanted to see me?”

“Yes… I’d never seen anyone as beautiful as you before, so I guess I wanted to burn the image into my mind since I’d probably never get another chance in my lifetime.”

Ophelia kept her head bowed, waiting for Claudio to start shouting angrily, but it never came. When she fearfully raised her head, Claudio was cupping his chin with his hand and seemed to be in the middle of pondering something.

“Um, Director…?”

“…You… Like the way I look, huh?”

“Huh?! W-Well, it’s a bit embarrassing when you say it so directly like that, but, um… If they were selling celebrity portraits in the marketplace, I think I’d buy yours in the blink of an eye.”

“…I see.” The hand that had been cupping Claudio’s chin slowly slid up to conceal his tightly closed mouth. “Well… I suppose I don’t mind, but… Hmm…”

Claudio mumbled those words, but due to the hand covering his mouth, Ophelia couldn’t make them out. He continued muttering to himself as he walked off somewhere alone. Although Claudio’s strange reaction confused her, Ophelia settled for patting her chest and thanking her lucky stars that she hadn’t been shouted at again.

Chapter 5: The Ordination Ceremony

Chapter 5: The Ordination Ceremony

“WOW, it’s such a long procession!”

“The holy remains are inside the carriage at the front, which is surrounded by mounted soldiers. The pope is riding in the carriage at the rear. This is intended to signify that the holy remains are superior even to the pope.”

“A bunch of old bones are more important than a living person who’s working their hardest, huh?”

Bruno snorted at Ophelia’s innocent but tactless comment. In preparation for the Ordination Ceremony the following day, the holy remains were being transported from the Cathedral to the chapel inside the Royal Palace. Bruno had brought Ophelia to view the procession as a learning experience.

A large number of commoners had likewise gathered around the gate separating the Royal Palace grounds from the rest of the city, hoping to catch a glimpse of the procession transporting the holy remains.

“Is that so? The pope was really working that hard?” Bruno asked with a chuckle.

“That’s right, the pope was using a broom and tending to the gardens with his own hands,” Ophelia stated confidently.

In response, Bruno chuckled again and said, “I see. I suppose you have a point, then. ‘A bunch of old bones’ certainly aren’t going to clean anything.”

“Lord Bruno, do you want to get closer so we can see better?”

Bruno watched the procession draw closer, his eyes narrowed against the dust being kicked up by so many feet. At Ophelia’s suggestion, he turned to look at her with a puzzled expression. The movement caused his neatly trimmed hair to brush gently across his cheek.

“No, that’s not it. I was just thinking that if not for you guys proving my innocence, I wouldn’t be here now, watching this. It made me unusually emotional just thinking about it.”

With this, Bruno turned his back on the procession and muttered almost to himself that he needed to thank everyone again for gathering the evidence that exonerated him.

“All right, we should probably head back soon,” he said. “This will most likely be the last day of interrogations related to this case.”

They’d already determined that the target of the aristocrats Claudio and the others had been investigating was the Ordination Ceremony. Persistent investigation to track the whereabouts of the foreigners these aristocrats had brought in from other countries revealed that they frequently visited the National Art Museum and the Cathedral. Even now, mixed among the commoners outside the gate, were a number of foreigners intently observing the scene within.

Ophelia’s ability didn’t help when it came to guessing their exact objective. The investigation had determined that they were trying to interfere with the Ordination Ceremony, but the members of the Director’s Office would need to obtain a confession to learn any more than that.

Cancelling the Ordination Ceremony hadn’t been an option, so the Ministry of Safety had increased the number of guards for the event, and everyone related to the ceremony was being thoroughly investigated.

Bruno’s eyes caught on a few people not wearing uniforms scattered throughout the Royal Palace grounds, which theoretically shouldn’t be easy for civilians to infiltrate. “I’d be willing to bet there are probably suspicious people lurking among us who just haven’t been caught yet. If only we knew what they were trying to accomplish…”

“Isn’t it to interfere with the ceremony?” Ophelia asked.

“If it were only that, all we’d need to do is tighten security and prevent it, but the aristocrats we captured had also made preparations to sneak those they’d smuggled into the country back out again at a later date. That’s what really has us concerned.”

“Hmm… Why don’t you arrest everyone who seems suspicious, just to be safe?” Ophelia’s breathing grew heavy, and she clutched her elbows as if she were cold, making Bruno’s brow furrow in a troubled expression.

“We’d love to, but it’s the Ministry of Safety who are in charge of making arrests; that’s outside our jurisdiction. If we’re attacked, we have the authority to arrest someone if we catch them in the midst of committing a crime, but that’s about it. And, anyway, ‘being suspicious’ by itself isn’t grounds for an arre— Lady Narve?!”

As they passed a man in a dark green tunic, out of nowhere, Ophelia fell over, landing hard on her bottom. This startled a middle-aged man wearing an official’s uniform who’d been walking beside the first man, and he quickly rushed over.

“Miss, are you okay?!”

“Huff, huff… I’m okay…”

“I-I’m so sorry! I was so engrossed in conversation that I didn’t even notice I’d bumped into you! Ohhh, what have I done to such a fragile-looking young lady…?!”

The man in the tunic bowed his head, acting extremely apologetic. His stomach bulged out on both sides when he bent forward, giving the impression of being stuffed into his tunic like an overfilled sausage. He was so plump that even Ophelia, knowing it not to be the case, briefly questioned whether maybe he had bumped into her after all.

Bruno knelt beside Ophelia, reaching out to steady her, and then, in one fluid motion, casually took her right hand in his. “Unbelievable, crashing into a lady so hard that she falls over… You need to be more careful. Are you two working on preparations for the ceremony?”

The middle-aged man’s uniform was light purple, indicating he belonged to the division within the Ministry of Ceremonies responsible for coordinating ceremonies. And the tunic the fat man was wearing was a common style preferred by merchants for being both presentable and easy to move in. The middle-aged man in the uniform nodded repeatedly.

“Yes. We were in a hurry to attend to preparations for tomorrow’s Ordination Ceremony. I’m terribly sorry, miss…”

Bruno looked up at the fat man, squeezing Ophelia’s hand lightly. “What about you?”

The man, who was holding his massive stomach and looking down at Ophelia with a worried expression, frowned nervously when Bruno addressed him. “I came to deliver merchandise to the chapel.”

“Are you a merchant from this city?”

“Y-Yes! That’s right. I made a mistake with the delivery time and was in such a hurry that I bumped into that woman without even noticing… Oh, how could I have done such a thing?! Are you injured anywhere, miss?”

Sweat began pouring down the fat man’s forehead in rivulets, and his face blanched alarmingly. Seeing this, Ophelia waved her free hand frantically in what she intended as a placating gesture.

“I-I’m okay! I fall over all the time, so I’m quite used to it!”

“You don’t have to downplay it—a fragile build like yours being sent flying by me is akin to a catastrophic event!”

“I’m fine, really, so please don’t worry about it!”

Due to his great agitation, Ophelia’s words didn’t seem to reach the fat man.

“Ohhh, now I’ve made such a young lady feel that she needs to excuse my terrible mistake! Great and good God, I beseech you to bestow your forgiveness on this vile sinner!”

The fat man struggled a bit but ultimately managed to kneel on the ground, where he began repenting to God. The official accompanying him seemed at a loss as to how he should handle his companion, because he remained frozen in place, looking around helplessly.

“Lady Narve, can you stand?” Bruno’s steady voice snapped Ophelia out of her daze, and she easily stood on her own.

“See, I’m just fine,” she said. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“I’m really very sorry.”

The man who’d called himself a merchant gave one last deep bow, then continued walking toward the chapel with the man in the official’s uniform. Once they were out of earshot, Bruno grabbed Ophelia’s arm and set off running.

“Lord Bruno?!”

“We have to get the Ministry of Safety to arrest that merchant!”

“Huh?! But he really didn’t bump into me! It was a misunderstanding! And even if he did, you can’t arrest someone for merely bumping into me!”

“That’s not it! When he said he was a merchant, your hand shook, right? He’s not a merchant at all.”

“Wait, it did?!”

Come to think of it, Bruno had a point. Ophelia had suddenly fallen over right when she passed by the fat man. He’d apologized so profusely that she herself had forgotten for a moment that he hadn’t actually bumped into her. “Most likely, he’s late for the delivery because he received the old version of the schedule.”

Ophelia’s eyes shifted back and forth, indicating that she couldn’t understand how he’d come to this conclusion, and Bruno raised one eyebrow and grinned.

“Of course, I’m angry that I was falsely accused, but we didn’t let that stop us from playing things to our advantage. We offered that cleaner a plea bargain and got him to intentionally pass along the old schedule to his contact, claiming it was the updated version. Just in case he happened to get an updated version elsewhere, you see.”

“And you think that merchant had the old version…”

“Furthermore, that guy was a follower of Lartomeum.”

“Lartomeum?”

“That’s right. It’s a new religion that branched off from Euvtomeum. Angelo is the resident expert on that kind of thing, but even I recognized his prayer addressed to ‘Great and good God.’ That distinctive prayer style is unique to Lartomeum.”

“I’m impressed you stayed calm enough to notice something like that, Lord Bruno.”

“Thanks to you, Lady Narve.”

No, thanks to you!

That was what Ophelia wanted to say, but she was still being tugged along by Bruno at a breakneck speed and had begun breathing so hard that she couldn’t get any more words out.

🌷 🌷 🌷

“I just came to deliver merchandise. It’s the truth!”

Each time the man shouted, gesticulating wildly with his arms as he did so, his heavy stomach wobbled. Samael was actually impressed that the man could even walk at his weight.

Following their encounter near the gate, the fat man, who claimed to be a merchant, was immediately stopped by soldiers from the Ministry of Safety at Bruno’s request. He’d acted suspiciously when confronted and, as a result, had been transported to the Director’s Office’s private interrogation room. The interrogation began as usual, with the man and Samael sitting on sofas facing one another on opposite sides of the table.

“Oh, really. And what merchandise did you deliver?”

“Well, um… V-Various things. A variety of items that are used at the chapel.”

“…Hm, well, I suppose it’s fine. Officials from the Ministry of Ceremonies are inspecting your delivery as we speak.”

“Um, I… I didn’t bring in anything strange…”

Noting the sweat droplets that peppered the man’s brow as he spoke, Claudio grimaced with blatant disgust from his usual position by the window. Samael chuckled at that but quickly regained a professional expression and carried on with the questioning.

“So, then, what was your purpose for coming to the chapel?”

“As I said, to make a delivery.”

“We’re wasting time here, so I’ll be frank with you. The schedule you received was a fake that we intentionally leaked. Who did you get it from?”

“…”

“So you were ordered to stay silent if you got caught, is that it?”

“Ophelia’s shaking has stopped.”

Samael heard Angelo’s voice through the cuff on his ear as clearly as if Angelo were standing right behind him. Ophelia had been in near convulsions on the ground in the neighboring room since the man’s interrogation had begun.

“What could you hope to achieve by interfering with the Ordination Ceremony? …It seems that you have no intention of answering, though.”

Samael leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table and making an amused face. The fat man’s face, in contrast, had grown alarmingly pale, and he was looking around the room nervously. When his eyes met with the two guards standing attentively behind him, he whipped around and faced back toward Samael.

“Is there someone among those about to be ordained as priests with whom you have an issue? Either that, or maybe you’re opposed to the ceremony in general…?”

Sweat dripped from the man’s chin, and he desperately fumbled with his fat hands atop the table, folding them together in a prayer position.

“There’s no doubt about it. That guy’s a follower of Lartomeum.”

“Do you believe in God?”

“Huh?!”

Samael’s entirely unexpected question caused the man to jump in his seat, eyes widening.

“Of course you follow the national religion, Euvtomeum, right?”

“O-Of course… Y-Yes, that’s right.”

“Woo-ee, Ophelia just took an impressive tumble over here!”

“Really?”

“R-Really!”

“Hehe, Ophelia can’t even stand up.”

Sweat was pouring down the man’s forehead like a waterfall, rushing over his chin and dripping onto his hands. Samael, observing all this, suddenly broke into a wide smile.

“Have you ever heard of Lartomeum?”

“I can’t say I have…”

“I see. You really don’t know of it?”

“Really, I don’t know anything about that.”

“Heh, Ophelia is rolling around on the ground.”

“That’s strange… Considering that, you’ve been holding your fingers like that…” As Samael said this, he dropped his eyes to the man’s folded hands. “That’s the prayer position of Lartomeum.”

“!” He gasped.

“Are you a follower of Lartomeum?”

“Eep! N-No, of course not…!”

“Aww, Ophelia was just standing up, and now she’s fallen over again.”

When Samael, with a knowing look, pointed out the Lartomeum-specific prayer style he’d learned about from Angelo, the man began panicking. Claudio, who’d been listening silently with one hand gripping his chin, chose that moment to stand up.

“Come to think of it, hasn’t possession of the holy remains always been a point of contention between the followers of Lartomeum and Euvtomeum?”

Surprised by Claudio suddenly interjecting into the conversation, the fat man fell right out of his chair and began shaking on the ground. “What are you saying… I haven’t done anything…”

The man’s sweat dripped like rain onto the hands he’d splayed out on the ground to support his ample weight. Observing this, Claudio opened his mouth and proclaimed with quiet certainty. “I see. So your objective is the holy remains, is it?”

“Eek!”

The man’s eyes widened, and he recoiled. Without another word, the two guards surrounded him and led him out of the room. It seemed his interrogation would continue “downstairs.” Claudio signaled to Samael, and the assistant director quickly left the interrogation room.

“Mr. Angelo, what do the followers of Lartomeum plan to do with the holy remains?” Ophelia asked Angelo as they walked side-by-side back to the Director’s Office.

“Lar’s teachings are very similar to those of Euv, but it seems they’ve developed a bit of a complex over the fact that they’re a new religion without a long and illustrious history, so recently they’ve started claiming that Lar actually predates the founding of Euv.”

“Do the scholars refer to these groups as Lar and Euv?”

“Nah, I just shortened them because the full names are tedious to say.”

“…So why does Lar want the holy remains? Oh, I’ve got it! They must be planning to claim that the holy remains are a fake in order to ‘prove’ that no other God exists but their own, right?!”

“No. Lar has a short history, so they don’t possess any sacred relics of their own. That’s why they’re trying to claim that the holy remains were actually from Lar, and Euv stole them.”

“Huh? They seriously want something like that?! …It’s a dead body!”

“Ahaha, you don’t have a single shred of reverence for religion, do you, Ophelia? Originally, Lar was a kind of ‘underdog’ religion that portrayed itself as oppressed but sincere and hard-working, but as their numbers have grown, extremist factions also seem to have developed.”

Ophelia suddenly stopped walking. “Wait, does that mean they’re all converging with the intention of stealing the holy remains?”

“Probably. They’ve even prepared an escape route. But the assistant director has been working behind the scenes to have security for the holy remains made the highest priority.”

When they opened the door to the Director’s Office, Bruno was waiting in the guest reception corner, where he’d commandeered the table to lay out an array of papers. These documents included various delivery forms and a blueprint of the chapel. Angelo immediately got to work checking each delivery form. Claudio and Samael returned soon after, and they rolled right into a staff meeting.

Since she wasn’t authorized to view classified documents, Ophelia returned to her desk, where she sat swinging her legs and feeling a bit useless.

“Ophelia, what are you doing? Get over here,” Claudio called out to Ophelia in an irritable tone. Angelo smiled at Ophelia as she hurried to join the circle, bewilderment and joy warring within her and plain on her face. Bruno dropped his gaze to the blueprints and struck the altar emphatically with the tip of his pointer finger.

“A large number of vendors have been entering and exiting the palace in relation to the Ordination Ceremony. The merchandise that guy delivered has already been mixed with deliveries from other merchants and placed inside the chapel. It’s going to take a very long time to determine what products were from that merchant and locate them all.”

“It does sound tedious locating every piece of fabric and bottle of lamp oil,” Angelo remarked, leaning back with his fingers threaded together behind his head, grinning as if glad that it was someone else’s problem.

“That’s where Lady Narve comes in.”

Following that comment from Bruno, all eyes converged on Ophelia.

“Me?”

“Yes. If we bring you to the chapel, you should be able to locate any unusual items, right?”

“Eep! I don’t have the ability to detect dangerous articles!”

Ophelia waved her arms back and forth in front of her chest in a dissuading gesture, causing Samael and Claudio to look at one another. Both seemed to consider the matter for a long moment before their eyes met again.

“It should be fine. If there’s anything in the chapel that shouldn’t be there, she’ll probably react to it.”

“So you’re suggesting we have Ophelia wander around the chapel, hoping she’ll fall over right in front of dangerous items?”

Faced with this very good point, Claudio paused to think it over. “Hm… I suppose we can have Angelo waiting with a cushion to catch her?”

“Huh? Me? All right, you can count on me! I’ll protect Ophie’s knees!”

Bruno cast a dubious gaze at Angelo, who pounded his chest confidently.

Ophelia’s eyes flickered indecisively for a moment, and then she abruptly raised her head. “Um, my brother! Please summon Bernard. I might not be able to determine an exact location by myself in such a large space. If there’s a hairline crack on the window or the wall is in danger of collapsing, Bernard should be able to tell precisely where the problem area is.”

“…Your brother also possesses a special ability?” Samael’s mouth dropped open in shock, but he quickly regained his composure and hurried out of the room. Presumably, he’d gone to dispatch a messenger to the Architectural Institute to summon Bernard.

“All right, the rest of us will head to the chapel. Get ready to leave immediately.”

Bruno and Angelo both nodded and stood to do as Claudio had ordered. Ophelia rose a moment later.

🌷 🌷 🌷

THE moment they entered the chapel, Ophelia’s legs folded, and she would’ve fallen if not for Bruno and Angelo holding her up from both sides. With their assistance, she managed to hobble along, but not without drawing curious stares from the soldiers guarding the chapel.

“Oh, oh my… I-I think it’s… in the room in the back… Oh, oh, oh, oh… It feels like we’re getting close!”

Unable to maintain an upright position, Ophelia swayed perilously as she pointed to a chamber at the rear of the chapel. Stumbling along while Ophelia’s companions practically dragged her, they somehow made it to the ceremonial chamber, which was congested with staff working tirelessly on preparations for the ceremony. Four soldiers stood at even intervals atop the dais at the rear of the room where the altar was located. These soldiers were in charge of protecting the holy remains.

After entering this chamber, Ophelia could no longer stand at all. Her legs were shaking wildly, and she couldn’t force her trembling hands to obey her brain’s commands to grasp on to anything. Even so, they identified several spots where her body’s shaking somehow cranked up yet another notch, and each time Bruno passed Ophelia to Angelo so he could go confirm the cause.

Close to the center of the chamber, a chair had a hairline fracture in one of its legs, intentionally rigged to break the moment anyone sat on it. One of the oil lamps on the wall was sabotaged so that the wick would burn out within moments of being lit, causing the light to go out. No matter how many tampered items they discovered, there always seemed to be more. There were just too many.

“Hey, I’ve got big brother Bernie!” Samael appeared, carrying Bernard into the ceremonial chamber over one shoulder.

It looks like Lord Samael wasn’t convinced a messenger would be able to find Bernard, so he went to get him personally.

Ophelia, who by this point had collapsed on the ground, raised just her head and called weakly, “B-Bernard…”

“Ophie?! What are you… Oh…”

Samael set down Bernard, who started to rush over to Ophelia’s side, but it seemed he’d also picked up on the strangeness in the room because he suddenly stopped and looked around inquisitively.

“…This place feels… dangerous, somehow.” Bernard continued over to Ophelia and, with practiced movements, slid an arm under her arm and around her back and helped her to stand. Then he slowly gazed at each wall in turn.

“B-Bernard… There are people trying to interfere with the Ordination Ceremony. I can’t pinpoint everything they’ve done. Please, help us search for anything dangerous. If we don’t do something, someone’s going to get hurt.”

“I think you’re right… But where? I can tell something is wrong, but… I don’t know what.”

“B-But if you can’t figure it out, there’s no way I could…!”

As he watched, tears began pouring from Ophelia’s eyes. Bernard frantically wiped away her tears with his sleeve and stood a bit taller.

“I’ll find it! I promise, I won’t give up until I find it. So don’t cry, Ophie…”

“Bernaaard…!”

Claudio, who up to this point had been silently watching their exchange, began examining the room with his sharp gaze. But by all appearances, the chamber seemed normal. What were the Narve siblings sensing? Bernard’s eyes were drawn to the same spot where Ophelia had been shaking the strongest.

“Hm, it feels like something big, but I just can’t seem to pinpoint anything definitive…” Bernard adjusted his hold on Ophelia and then slowly began walking. Ophelia was so focused on forcing her wobbling knees to hold her weight that she could hardly speak. “What do you think, Ophie? Does it feel like we’re close?”

With tears welling in her eyes, Ophelia shook her head emphatically from side to side. They continued on, necks craned to look all around, until suddenly Ophelia’s whole body began quaking dramatically.

“Huh? Whoa! Ophie, is this the right area?”

Ophelia kept her jaw clenched shut so she wouldn’t bite her tongue and settled for nodding repeatedly. Claudio and the others all froze in place, listening to the Narve siblings.

The spot where the siblings had stopped was right in the center of the ceremonial chamber. An aisle extended from the entrance at the rear straight to the dais in the front of the room, so it was an open space with nothing around.

“Um… Maybe the floor?”

Bernard stomped experimentally on the floor, and the sound echoed throughout the chamber. Everyone in the room froze, not daring to so much as breathe as they strained their ears to listen carefully to the noise, when suddenly another sound rang out—the creaking of a door opening.

“Excuse me! I’m from the Ministry of the Magical Arts. I’ve come to deliver the ‘solemn music’ magical item,” a young man dressed in an iridescent teal robe announced in a cheerful, carefree tone.

Shocked, Bernard lost his balance and fell hard on the ground, taking Ophelia down with him.

“We’re in the middle of conducting an investigation! Get out!”

The young man cocked his head quizzically, seeming confused rather than terrified by the orders Claudio had roared at him.

“What are you looking for, crawling around on the floor like that?” The young man, clearly having no sense of self-preservation, ignored the fact that he’d been told to “get out” and lightly pranced into the ceremonial chamber.

“Ahh!”

Just as everyone tensed with irritation at the young man’s irreverence for the very serious situation, Bernard suddenly let out a shout. From his position splayed out underneath Ophelia like her own personal mattress, Bernard pointed up at the ceiling, his eyes wide.

“That’s it! The chandelier!”

Everyone in the chamber looked up. A massive chandelier hung from the ceiling in the spacious but austere ceremonial chamber. The candleholders affixed to its wooden arms bore the only ornamentation in the entire room. It was hard to tell from this distance, but they seemed to be engraved with a pattern of lotus flowers.

“Hm? What about the chandelier? Ohh, it’s too dark, and you can’t see well; is that it? In that case, I’ll light it for you.” The young man, the only one who didn’t know the situation, pulled out a wand from inside his jacket. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he waved the wand at the chandelier.

That wand must be a magical item with the ability to light candles.

“N-No…!”

“Agh!”

Bernard let out a pained yelp when his sister accidentally kneed him in the gut while scrambling to rise. Ophelia dashed toward the young man as fast as she could on wobbly legs and barreled straight into him with her full momentum.

“Whoa! What?! What is it?”

“Don’t light it!”

“Huh? Why not?”

This time, it was the young man from the Ministry of the Magical Arts that Ophelia was using like her own personal mattress. Still lying on top of him, she reached out and used her shaking hands to hold his outstretched arms in place.

“How long do you plan to lie there cuddling, huh?!”

Claudio grabbed Ophelia under the armpits and peeled her off the young man. For a moment, Ophelia was flabbergasted to be picked up like a child, but then, with a gasp, she remembered what was going on and looked up at the ceiling.

…Just in time to see the chandelier being lowered down.

“Ophelia, why are you still crying?”

“Waaagh! Until just a moment ago, it was from worry, but now they’re tears of relief!”

“Maybe you should try plugging up your tear glands…”

Reacting to Claudio’s incredulous tone, Ophelia frantically wiped the tears from her eyes with the backs of her hands.

The chandelier was carefully disconnected, and a group of guards carried it out of the chamber. Once it was gone, Bernard’s worried expression eased just a bit.

“Phew. I think we were right, and something had been done to that chandelier. The feeling of wrongness is gone now.”

“I suppose that’s because once the chandelier was disconnected from the ceiling, it’s no longer a part of the room?” Samael speculated, and Bernard nodded.

Officials were running around, rushing to arrange for a replacement chandelier to be installed as quickly as possible. The dangerous articles had been removed, but that didn’t change how busy the staff from the Ceremony Coordination Division were. Faceless employees in purple uniforms bustled in and out of the ceremonial chamber, busy as bees.

“Ophie, we’re just in the way here, so let’s head back.” Bernard offered his hand to Ophelia, but she couldn’t grab onto it. “Ophelia? Your hand…”

At her side, Claudio immediately noticed the problem.

Ophelia’s hand was trembling when Bernard grabbed it. A moment later, her legs felt like they were about to give out, so Ophelia hurried to sit down right there on the floor. When she stretched her legs out in front of her, it was easy to see that they were shaking faintly.

“Ohhh! Wh-Why?! I still haven’t stopped shaking…”

“O-Ophie, it’s not the building anymore,” Bernard said. “I don’t feel anything.”

Claudio, who’d been listening to the siblings’ conversation, clicked his tongue and then grabbed Ophelia’s arm, forcefully yanking her to her feet.

“Eep! D-Director?!”

“There’s only one place in this entire room that we haven’t searched yet.” Claudio tugged on Ophelia’s arm, snatching her away from Bernard, and without hesitation, he walked with sure and steady strides. Bernard and Bruno followed closely behind them.

At the front of the chamber, up a short staircase consisting of just two steps, sat the altar. Four guards were positioned on the raised dais, and at the very back, there was a podium with a long, thin box sitting unassumingly on top.

When they saw Claudio charging up the stairs, the soldiers unconsciously braced themselves for an attack. Once they recognized him as the king’s brother, relief flashed across their faces, but then their eyebrows drew together in confusion.

“Have you guys been here the whole time?” As Claudio said this, he removed his hand from Ophelia’s arm. Her shaking, which had lessened considerably, slowly returned.

Claudio took his time looking at each guard’s face in turn. After a moment, what appeared to be the oldest of the guards spoke.

“Yes, sir. We’ve been in this spot ever since the holy remains were carried in.”

“Without changing shifts?”

“That’s correct, sir. Shift change is scheduled for two hours from now.”

“And no one came up here? Did anyone touch the holy remains?”

“No, sir. Officials and soldiers have been coming in and out of the room, but no one has approached the altar besides yourselves.”

Claudio glanced covertly over at Ophelia and saw that, although she was still shaking, she faintly shook her head. These guards weren’t lying.

“D-Director, um… I don’t want to believe it, but…”

“Yeah, I have a feeling we’re both thinking the same thing.”

Ophelia folded her shaking hands together as if praying and squeezed her eyes shut. Perhaps because her arms were locked in place and couldn’t move, her knees began shaking instead. Suspicious expressions came over the guards’ faces, and they braced themselves again.

“Damn it! The holy remains were already replaced with a fake before they arrived here?!” Claudio pushed past one of the guards and reached out toward the box containing the holy remains. “What are you doing?! It doesn’t matter if you are the king’s brother, you can’t…!”

“D-D-Director! Stop!”

“You stay quiet and watch from over there!”

Claudio shook off the guard who reached out to stop him and threw open the box’s lid, revealing a mass of thin, discolored fabric within, just like the one at the art museum. Without hesitating, Claudio reached for the cloth and pulled it back.

“Ahh!”

Ophelia reflexively covered her eyes with her hands. It didn’t matter how old they might be or whose bones they allegedly were—scary things were scary! She would’ve loved nothing more than to race from the room that instant, but her shaking legs couldn’t carry her a single step.

“…What’s this…?”

The guard was the first to speak.

Still holding onto one end of the cloth, Claudio narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “A bunch of sticks. Relatively fresh ones, by my estimation.”

Claudio swept his hand forward, shaking the cloth, and thin sticks fell out, clattering as they rolled across the floor. Claudio’s face twisted at the sight of the familiar-looking sticks.

“Huh?” Ophelia peered out from between her fingers to look at the fallen sticks, and her shaking suddenly stopped, all at once.

As one, all of the guards’ heads snapped up, and they began to panic.

“Remain on guard here until you receive orders from me. You’re not to tell anyone about this,” Claudio ordered the guards, while simultaneously scooping up the sticks and chucking them haphazardly back into the box.

After confirming that the guards, despite their uncertain expressions, had all nodded, Claudio turned and took Ophelia by the arm. “Come on, we’re going.”

“Huh? G-Going where?”

Without bothering to respond, Claudio ran from the ceremonial chamber, dragging Ophelia by the arm. He shoved Ophelia into a waiting carriage, climbed in behind her, and shut the door.

“To the Royal Residence. The Golden Lotus gate is fine.”

After barking out instructions to the driver, Claudio leaned back into the seat and closed his eyes. Noting his crossed arms and irritable mood, Ophelia did her best to fade into the background, becoming as unobtrusive as possible and simply waiting for the carriage to reach its destination.

Once the scenery stopped rolling by outside the window, Claudio grabbed Ophelia again and climbed out of the carriage.

In front of them loomed a relatively small but ornately engraved arching gateway set over a large, sturdy door. Three gatekeepers slouched against the door, looking bored, but as soon as they realized that the person approaching was Claudio, they snapped to attention, making way and opening the door. Claudio half-dragged Ophelia as she hurried to keep up, her gaze wandering around curiously. A group of maids lowered their gazes and curtsied when they spotted Claudio.

“U-Um, Director, is this…?”

“Oh, right, you’ve probably never been here before, huh? The Golden Lotus Gate is essentially reserved exclusively for the royal family’s private use.”

“What?! Th-Th-Then I really shouldn’t be here…!”

“You’re with me, so it’s fine. More importantly, can’t you walk any faster?”

“This is my maximum speed!”

Claudio clicked his tongue irritably, then suddenly stopped, snaked his left arm around Ophelia’s waist, and picked her up, carrying her under his arm like a child.

“Eek! Please stop! Everyone is looking!”

“Too bad! It’s your own fault for being so slow!”

Claudio set off running, carrying Ophelia. All the maids whom they passed bowed their heads and curtsied, but they raised their curious eyes to watch them go. More than one minister tried to speak to Claudio, only to be completely ignored. Palace guards were startled by the commotion as they blew past.

“Ahhh! P-Please, slow down!”

“Deal with it!”

“Where are we goooing?!”

“To His Majesty’s study. I have a feeling the pope is there.”

“Ahhh! You’ve got to be kidding! Wh-Why do I have to come too?!”

“Shut up, will you?! You’re going to bite your tongue!”

“Mmf!”

Claudio raced up the stairs, clutching Ophelia, who had both hands clasped over her mouth and was kicking her legs uselessly. Before the guards had time to stop him, he kicked open the door at the far end of the hall.

Despite the incredible noise this produced, the door swung neatly shut behind them, seemingly undamaged.

The quality of the doors in the Royal Residence is really amazing!

Ophelia, who was mere moments away from losing consciousness and had begun dissociating, looked around the room with hazy eyes, only half-processing what she was seeing. All of the walls were ornately decorated with gold-gilded plaster bas-relief, and curtains made from a delicately embossed, luxuriously thick fabric formed an unbroken drape covering the windows. A number of heavy-looking spears and swords also hung on the walls as decorations, likely a special interest of the king’s.

Shaking off the hands of the guards who rushed forward to intercept him, Claudio stomped right into the center of the room.

“…It’s been a while since I’ve seen that unique door-opening technique of yours…”

A man sitting on a surprisingly simple but comfortable-looking sofa called out to Claudio, his face a mask of calm. His skin had a healthy beige complexion that complemented his chestnut hair. Even Ophelia, cut off from the world as she was, recognized the face of the well-built man dressed in loose-fitting formal attire. He was their king, a renowned lover of equestrianism. Seated on another sofa opposite the king was the pope, trying but mostly failing to conceal a smile.

“Your Majesty, Your Holiness, I beg your pardon for the intrusion,” Claudio said.

“You don’t look very repentant,” the king sighed, his brows furrowed and one hand reaching up to grasp his chin. This expression strongly resembled the one Claudio wore when he was thinking deeply about something.

“Is that so? You’ll have to forgive me; I’m here on urgent business. Your Holiness, it concerns the holy remains currently being kept in the chapel. They’re a fake. I suspect that they were swapped out with the real ones before being brought into the chapel.” Claudio spoke quickly, conveying the purpose of their unplanned visit, and the pope froze, eyes wide, a cup of tea raised partway to his mouth.

“…What makes you say that?”

“To make a long story short, we had reason to believe dangerous items were inside the chapel, and we discovered the truth about the holy remains during the search. The guards never once left the holy remains unguarded, not even for a moment. I opened the box personally. The only thing inside was a bunch of sticks.”

“I see.”

Without taking a sip from the teacup, the pope gracefully held back the sleeve of his robe with the other hand so he could set the cup back down on its saucer. When he raised his head, he glanced over at the king, seemingly signaling with his eyes. Claudio’s eyes widened ever so slightly at that.

“Claudio, who is that lady? Why don’t you put her down already, hm?”

“Eep!”

Ophelia gulped in a breath when the king’s and the pope’s eyes landed on her. The king, whom she’d previously only ever glimpsed in passing from such a great distance that she hadn’t been able to see his face, was now right in front of her! Her legs began to shake for an entirely different reason than usual, and she wasn’t confident she’d be able to stand if Claudio put her down. Ophelia clutched the sleeve of Claudio’s jacket and shook her head emphatically, drawing a huge sigh from him.

“This is one of my employees. For various reasons, she’s fine like this for now.”

“You always leave a lot out when you talk to me, you know that? I’d really like to speak with you more…”

“Your Majesty, there’s no time for that right now,” Claudio said. “Please order a search for the real holy remains. They could be anywhere, and I won’t be able to find them with just the resources at my disposal.”

“No, it’s fine.”

Claudio’s aura abruptly turned frigid in response to the king’s casual reply. Seeming entirely unfazed by this, the king exaggeratedly folded his arms and asked the pope, “It’s fine like this, right, Your Holiness?”

“Yes, just as you say, Your Majesty,” the pope replied with an elegant nod, still sitting on the sofa looking entirely relaxed.

“What’s going on here?” Claudio’s voice was so deep it almost seemed to slither along the floor. The pope smiled faintly at that.

“What, indeed?”

Claudio’s lip curled, and he fell silent, but the pope merely narrowed his eyes in a gentle smile, unfazed. It was exactly the kind of expression a patient and gentle parent might wear while chiding a stubborn child.

“Very well, then. You’re saying it’s okay for it to remain a fake?” Claudio glared unflinchingly at the two men. His arm holding Ophelia tightened.

“I’m saying no such thing. What I’m saying is that you don’t need to do anything,” the king slowly pronounced, the outside corners of his eyebrows drooping.

“Your Majesty!”

The king ignored Claudio’s frustrated outburst, taking a sip of his tea and averting his eyes. The pope chuckled when Claudio’s glare slid to him and looked over at Ophelia.

“I’m sure I’ll meet you again, young lady. Along with the duke here, no doubt.”

Ophelia, who was hiding her face against Claudio’s jacket with only her eyes peeking out, tilted her head to the side in confusion at the pope’s seemingly prophetic statement. Her body wasn’t shaking… Which meant that the pope wasn’t just saying this as a pleasantry. He truly believed that he would meet Ophelia again.

“Ngh!”

Just when she adjusted her position, trying to stand on her own, Claudio grabbed her again, causing her to make a strange sound.

“D-Director, it’s… hard to breathe…

“Enough. We’re leaving, Ophelia.”

“Oi, wait a minute, Claudio…” the king called out.

“We have nothing more to discuss!”

Claudio left the room, slamming the door shut behind him, and set off walking with long but not especially hurried strides. He was frowning deeply, his face the very image of “brooding,” so no one dared try to approach.

“Um, Director… You can let me down now…”

His eyes flicked down to look at her, and then Claudio finally released his grip on Ophelia. Somehow, she landed safely on her feet. Once stable, Ophelia timidly raised her face.

“Umm… Wh-What were His Majesty and the pope talking about back there?”

They maintained eye contact for a long moment until Claudio suddenly looked away, his mouth twisting in chagrin.

Then he set off walking again without answering.

“Did that mean they’re fine with the holy remains being stolen?”

“The holy remains that were brought here were likely a fake all along,” he finally said. “What I don’t know is if they always bring a fake, or if they’re only doing it this time for some reason.”

“Huh? Then the real holy remains are still at the Cathedral?”

“Throughout the entire conversation, at no point did you ever start shaking, right? Those two knew all along that the holy remains were a fake.”

It was hard to wrap her head around the fact that they’d enlisted so many soldiers to guard a box of sticks. Ophelia thought back to the grand procession she’d turned out to view that morning.

“Oh! Don’t tell me that when we visited the Cathedral, the sticks the pope was gathering weren’t for firewood… But for the fake holy remains…?” she guessed.

“Most likely. The broken tile, the suspicious footprints, and the pope’s lie… I’d thought it was strange you were shaking that badly.”

Due to the difference in their height, Claudio was walking at a leisurely pace, but Ophelia practically had to run to keep up. Unable to take her time to think it over, all Ophelia could do was turn Claudio’s words over and over again in her head.

“At that time, His Holiness didn’t seem to have noticed that someone had tried to sneak into the Cathedral. Do you think he had any suspicion before then that someone wanted to steal the holy remains?”

“I have no idea.”

Noting that Claudio’s stormy mood was on the verge of deepening into a raging tempest, Ophelia wisely chose to shut her mouth. In silence, she followed as Claudio navigated with comfortable ease through the Royal Residence, the private living quarters of the royal family.

Come to think of it, the director also grew up here, huh?

Ophelia looked around and noticed that everyone they passed stepped back to make way and bowed their heads to Claudio. The floor of the hallway they were traversing was made of stone polished to such a fine sheen that she could practically see her reflection in it, and the pillars lining both sides of the path were inlaid with detailed engravings from the base all the way to the ceiling.

She’d thought she understood it logically, but this experience really drove home for Ophelia the vast difference between Claudio’s social standing and her own.

Chapter 6: Transfer Request

Chapter 6: Transfer Request

THE morning dawned brilliantly sunny. Ophelia and the other staff from the Director’s Office were attending the Ordination Ceremony. By right, Claudio was entitled to sit with the royal family, but he’d chosen to sit in the staff section with Ophelia and the others. At first, the people sitting nearby gawked at him, but they closed their mouths quickly enough under the force of Claudio’s fierce glare.

The fake holy remains were on display on their podium atop the dais, and the soon-to-be priests, their faces tense with nervous energy, gazed at the box reverently.

Amid the solemn atmosphere, where even the rustle of clothing seemed an offense, Ophelia gripped her knees with both hands, trying to suppress their shaking. At this, Claudio glanced over from his seat beside her. As she gazed into his lapis lazuli eyes, her shaking gradually calmed.

Claudio does not lie.

That’s all it was, and yet she’d never met someone like him before. Ophelia knew what this feeling was called. But she didn’t dare acknowledge it. He had a fiancée, for goodness’ sake.

Ophelia closed her eyes and tried to focus on the pope’s congratulatory speech. She wished this peaceful moment would last forever.

From where he sat behind Ophelia, protectively watching over her, Bruno noticed that at some point she’d stopped shaking. He frowned, puzzled by how that could be when the fake holy remains were within her line of sight, regardless of whether she had her eyes open or not. Then he snuck a glance at Claudio sitting beside her. With how attentive he was to the tiniest detail, Bruno would’ve assumed that, like himself, Claudio would’ve noticed the change in Ophelia.

However, Claudio was regarding Ophelia with an entirely unexpected, painfully tender gaze. For a long moment, Bruno couldn’t drag his eyes away from the expression he’d never before witnessed on the director’s face.

I see… In some form or another, the reason Ophelia stopped shaking must be related to Claudio. Once he realized that, Bruno gave a small, reluctant smile and a faint nod to himself. He forced his gaze away from the pair.

After that, the Ordination Ceremony proceeded smoothly, and once it concluded, the holy remains were transported back to the Cathedral with great fanfare and under heavy guard.

The examination of the chandelier from the ceiling revealed that it had been fitted with modified candles. Once they were lit and the wax began to melt, they would release an undetectable poisonous gas into the air that would render everyone in the room unable to open their eyes. It seemed that the followers of Lartomeum had planned to steal the holy remains amidst the chaos that would’ve caused.

The fake merchant whom Bruno and Ophelia had captured and the man from the gambling den who’d coerced the cleaner into stealing the schedule had both confessed as much in their interrogations with Samael.

One person to steal the holy remains, another person to sneak them out of the Royal Palace, another to transport them by wagon to the border, where yet another person would smuggle them into the neighboring country… The roles were precisely divided, and everything was planned out down to the holy remains’ final destination: a Lartomeum church in a foreign country.

Most of the conspirators involved in the plan had been arrested, but not all.

“Those we arrested were all motivated by righteous indignation at the holy remains supposedly being stolen by Euvtomeum in the first place. That was why they participated in this scheme. They all used the exact same words, ‘This is a holy war.’ There seems to be a ringleader who’s been using those words to manipulate the believers,” Bruno explained as they watched the long procession of guards protecting the holy remains on their journey back to the Cathedral.

Ophelia caught sight of the Architectural Institute off in the distance beyond the now-quiet chapel. The Architectural Institute that she’d been in such a hurry to return to now seemed terribly far away.

🌷 🌷 🌷

SEVERAL days after the Ordination Ceremony…

Ophelia was cleaning the hidden room behind the window in the interrogation room. The only interrogations that escalated to the Director’s Office were those involving highly ranked nobles, whom ordinary employees would struggle to deal with.

Now that the case of the attempted theft of the holy remains had been wrapped up, this interrogation room was rarely used. The mat that had been specially made for Ophelia was now folded neatly and placed in a corner. After lining the cushions up in a breezy spot by the window to air out, Ophelia returned to the Director’s Office.

She quietly opened the door and found Claudio and Samael trading opinions about a document that had been sent over from another department. Both men glanced over, but Samael simply raised a hand in greeting before returning to their conversation. Bruno sat at his desk, his pen racing over the paper in front of him. Angelo was absent, but the top of his desk was unusually tidy.

The interrogation of the nobles who’d been involved had mostly finished, and it seemed like the rest would be left to the people who worked “downstairs.” It was the Ministry of Safety’s job to track down the ringleader who’d escaped. Even if they did manage to arrest him, now that the plot had been mostly revealed, it was uncertain if the ringleader’s interrogation would be handled by the Director’s Office or not.

Angelo had already cleaned up all the materials he’d accumulated over the course of the investigation, and Bruno was nearly done writing his final report on the case.

Ophelia’s job here was done. The thought made her chest ache. The plan had always been for her to return to the Architectural Institute once this case was solved. This kind of situation must’ve been what the phrase “feeling like you’re being pulled in all directions at once” was coined to describe.

Having nothing to do, Ophelia gathered up a few books that had been left out on the meeting table and carried them over to the bookshelf.

Around the same time Ophelia was finishing putting the books away, Angelo returned. Samael, his meeting with Claudio concluded, headed back to his desk, and Bruno was organizing the documents he’d finished writing.

This is my chance! Ophelia raced back to her desk and removed four small, crisply wrapped packages from her bag.

“Um, this is a small expression of my gratitude for taking care of me these past few weeks… Please accept it.” With this, she handed out the packages to the others one at a time.

The moment Angelo received his, he eagerly tore the paper open to reveal the item inside. “Wow, a handkerchief? It has my initials embroidered on it! Don’t tell me, you…?”

“Yes, I put my heart and soul into embroidering it myself,” Ophelia said.

“Wahoo! I’ve never received this kind of thing from a girl before! Thanks!” Angelo held the handkerchief up with both hands and literally leapt for joy.

Samael’s eyes crinkled happily as he brushed his finger over the embroidery on his handkerchief. “Hmm, you’re surprisingly talented, Lady Narve.”

“Um, well, I’ve been stuck at home all the time since I was a child, and the only things I could really do alone in my room were read or work on embroidery, so…”

Ophelia averted her eyes bashfully, this time accidentally making eye contact with Bruno. He was holding the handkerchief and gazing straight at Ophelia with his brows furrowed.

“Lady Narve, if this is a thank-you gift, does that mean… you’re planning to return to the Architectural Institute?” he asked.

“Huh? Well, I mean, I was only called in to help with this case, and I was told I’d be sent back after it was solved, so…”

“Transfers aren’t that simple, are they, Claudio?”

Claudio didn’t even raise his head when Samael addressed him, merely raising his eyes. His mouth twisted irritably, and he nodded.

Ophelia tilted her head to the side, confused. “But, I… I submitted my transfer request to you, didn’t I, Director?”

“Transfer request?!” Samael cried, whipping around to glare at Claudio. Bruno and Angelo both seemed uneasy as well, but Claudio remained silent.

“Umm, I heard from some ladies from another division, who I’ve become close with, that if you submit a transfer request, it would make the process smoother…” Ophelia said softly. “And, um, I thought it would be better not to make more of a hassle for the director when you’re all so busy, so…”

“Director, did you accept it?” Angelo pressed, and finally Claudio raised his head. His typical fierce glare was there in full force, but now it rivaled for dominance with his scowling mouth.

“I took it, but… I’ve been too busy to file it.”

“What? B-But all you have to do is sign it and hand it off to the General Affairs Division, and they’ll take care of the rest, right?” Ophelia protested.

“I’m busy! I don’t have time to waste on extra paperwork for you!”

Faced with this sudden outburst from Claudio, Ophelia unconsciously checked to make sure her hands weren’t shaking. The others all followed suit, leaning in to take a peek at her hands.

“Wh-What?! It’s not a lie; I really am busy! I was planning to get around to it after I’d finished with this stack of paperwork here,” Claudio said, thumping his hand down on a large pile of papers on his desk.

“But more paperwork comes up from the other divisions every day. You’ll never completely finish that pile,” Angelo pointed out incredulously.

“By ‘making the process smoother,’ they probably weren’t referring to lessening the director’s work…” Just as Bruno muttered this under his breath, the office door suddenly slammed open.

“Ophie! Good day!”

“Duke Vigatto?!”

In the doorway stood Gian, clutching a massive bouquet and smiling from ear to ear. Back when they first met, Ophelia never would’ve dreamed she’d ever see such an expression on his face.

At the sudden appearance of this dedicated recluse, who wasn’t even an employee and therefore shouldn’t have been able to get into the Ministry of Justice in the first place, the members of the Director’s Office team all froze, their eyes wide with shock.

Ophelia reflexively accepted the bouquet thrust into her arms, and when she peeked out from behind the bundle of deep red roses, she found Gian standing in front of her with his arms open wide.

“Good job on your stint at the Director’s Office, Ophie! Now, please marry me!”

“Huh…?”

Silence fell over the room.

The only sound was the chirping song of small birds outside the window, announcing the approach of dusk.

“WHAT?!” everyone but Claudio screamed in unison.

“Your Grace! What are you saying?!”

“I thought about it very carefully and realized this was the best solution,” Gian said. “Both for me and for Ophie!”

“Lady Narve, what’s going on here?!” Bruno demanded.

“Where did you guys meet and develop this kind of relationship?!” Samael asked.

“I’ve never seen a proposal up close before,” Angelo remarked.

Everyone talked over each other all at once. Claudio’s fist slammed down on his desk, breaking through the commotion.

“Shut up! All of you!”

“You’re the loudest of all…” Samael complained, covering his ears with both hands.

Claudio stood so forcefully that he knocked over his chair, sending it crashing to the ground, but he didn’t spare it a single glance, his attention focused on glaring menacingly at Gian. Gian stared straight back, uncowed. Samael leapt between the two, but Claudio pushed his assistant’s hands aside and grabbed both Gian and Ophelia by the arm, dragging them forcibly out of the room.

The destination Claudio brought them to, ignoring Gian’s noisy protests the entire way, was the smallest reception room. This room was soundproofed with a magical item.

Claudio chucked Gian onto one of the sofas, then sat Ophelia down slightly more gently on one side of the other sofa, facing Gian’s.

“Gian, what are you playing at here?” Claudio asked.

The corners of Gian’s mouth turned up at the fact that Claudio had actually used his name for once. “Didn’t you hear? I proposed to Ophie.”

“But you’re a woman!”

“Technically yes, but to the world I’m a man. On paper, we could be married. Sure, there’s a bit of a difference in rank, but she’s the daughter of an earl, so it wouldn’t cause a scandal or anything.”

“I told you not to drag Ophelia into your mess, didn’t I?”

When both of their gazes suddenly turned to fix on her, Ophelia cringed and hid her face behind the massive bouquet.

“I’m not dragging her into anything; Ophie is already an involved party. We’ve shared our secrets with one another. I’ve been thinking about what I should do to make absolutely certain she won’t reveal my secret, and what I realized is that a marriage between us would solve everything.”

“As usual, I have no idea where you got that idea,” Claudio groaned.

“I don’t have to lie in front of Ophie anymore. She’s the only woman I can be myself with. And the same goes for her. It benefits both of us—by binding ourselves together, we can both live without having to hide. I don’t intend to participate in society functions in the future. We can live a quiet life together at my manor. What do you say, Ophie?”

Ophelia was stunned into silence.

I could be myself…?

Indeed, Gian was biologically a woman, but that didn’t prevent them from being legally married. Even if there was no romantic love between them, it could be a mutually beneficial marriage. That was how the majority of marriages between aristocrats were, after all. When you thought about it, it was actually very logical for two people who would have a difficult time finding anyone to marry to marry each other.

As if sensing that Ophelia was starting to come around to the idea, Gian elaborated, “Of course, you’d need to be discreet, but I wouldn’t mind if you took a secret lover. In fact, if you got pregnant that way, we could raise the child as our own. That would take care of the issue of producing an heir. It really is a happy solution all around, don’t you think?”

Just as she was about to nod emphatically in agreement with how logical the proposal was, Ophelia caught herself and brought both hands up to cover her cheeks, flustered.

Seeing this, Claudio clicked his tongue irritably. “There’s no way a marriage like that would go smoothly.”

“Why are you opposed to it, anyway, Claudio? This is between Ophie and me. It has nothing to do with you.”

Claudio fell silent for a moment, gritting his teeth. When he finally spoke, it was to insist, “She’s my employee; that makes it my business.”

“Ophie was supposed to be freed from you after you closed your case, wasn’t she?”

“For now, she’s still the Director’s Office’s secretary,” Claudio said.

“But that’s ending now, right? I already obtained Ophie’s father’s permission.”

“Father’s permission?!”

Ophelia was so surprised that she leapt to her feet. The fact that she wasn’t shaking meant that this must be the truth. But she couldn’t believe her father had given away her hand in marriage without even discussing it with her first.

Gian stood, and after glancing at Claudio, who was likewise dumbstruck, he took Ophelia’s hand. “I’ve already arranged for you to take a paid leave day tomorrow, and I got permission from your father for you to come stay the night at my house tonight.”

“Oh, permission to spend the night…” Dizzy, Ophelia sank back down on the couch.

Gian carried on with a smile, still holding onto her hand. “Yeah, I told him that I was going to propose to you, so I wanted to give you the opportunity to familiarize yourself with my home, and he easily gave his permission.”

“He did?!”

“We can have dinner together, take a bath together, and even sleep together! Doesn’t it sound wonderful, Ophie?!”

“Oh! Oh, my…”

“You bastard! You’re not even married yet; what are you suggesting?!”

“Ew, Claudio, where is your mind going? We’re both women! There’s no problem, right?”

Claudio fell silent, unable to contradict Gian’s logic but seething nonetheless.

Come to think of it, that was pretty much how things had gone whenever Dominica came to visit. Ophelia found Gian’s personality a bit overwhelming at times, but when you put it that way, a marriage that was essentially a sleepover with your best gal pal every night didn’t sound so bad.

If I’m taken care of, Bernard will be able to relax and focus on his own marriage prospects. And I’m sure Mother and Father will be relieved once both of their children are married. Of course, they’ll probably start demanding grandchildren right away, but that can be Bernard’s job.

When Claudio realized that Ophelia had genuinely started to consider it based on her not-entirely-opposed expression, his own face twisted in dissatisfaction.

“Well then, it’s about the end of the workday, right? The night is long. Let’s retire to my place for the night, and we can discuss the future at length.” Gian gently tugged Ophelia to her feet.

Instantly, Claudio stood as well. “Oi! Wait a minute, Gian!”

“You’re so annoying! As I’ve already said, this has nothing to do with you. If you have time to bother us, why don’t you go pay attention to your own fiancée, hm?”

The mention of his fiancée made Claudio twitch, and after a moment, he lowered the hand he’d been reaching out toward Ophelia with the intention of grabbing her arm.

“That woman tried to harm my dear Ophie, you know,” Gian said.

“Your Grace, I already told you that’s not what happened!”

Gian led Ophelia by the hand out of the reception room before she could point out that she’d fallen on her own because of his own sudden appearance.

Claudio stood frozen to the spot, grimacing, but didn’t try to follow them.

🌷 🌷 🌷

THE members of the Vigatto ducal house were especially protective of Gian, but that didn’t mean that Julietta had been neglected growing up. She received a proper education befitting a daughter of noble lineage, and her parents doted on her in their own way. In fact, she leaned toward being a bit arrogant and selfish, typical for the daughter of a duke. Julietta was older than both of them, and whenever Claudio went to visit Gian, he did his best to avoid her because she would tease him about his hair color, which was more distinctly pink back then than its current strawberry-blond hue.

When he’d rushed over to pay his condolences to the family after hearing that Julietta had unexpectedly passed away, Claudio noticed that a strange silence had settled over the normally bustling manor. The number of servants had been dramatically reduced, and those who remained seemed antsy. The duke was irritable the entire time, and the duchess was indisposed and didn’t make an appearance. For some reason, they wouldn’t let him see Gian, so Claudio left the flowers he’d brought and was about to leave when he spotted a figure peeking out of a window on the second floor.

Their hairstyle was identical to Gian’s, but it couldn’t be him. Gian couldn’t get out of bed. Claudio recognized Julietta with just that single glimpse. And it took him only a moment to realize what must be going on in the Vigatto family. Claudio was still a young prince with no power of his own, so there was nothing he could do for Julietta. All he could do was keep his mouth shut.

A letter arrived from the Vigatto family, casually reporting that they’d held a private funeral for Julietta with only immediate family present.

Julietta—no, by this time, he’d thoroughly become Gian—would occasionally come to the Royal Palace to donate the stacks upon stacks of books he’d finished reading while holed up at home all the time. That was the only time Gian would appear in front of Claudio and tease him for his hair color, just like old times. During that period when Claudio was just going along with everything, not sure how he should handle “the Gian situation,” he abdicated from his place in the line of succession and moved out of the Royal Residence. After that, he and Gian rarely met, and all Claudio knew about him came from rumors being passed along the grapevine.

Considering how many years Gian had spent living all alone, probably desperately lonely, Claudio could understand why he latched on to a friendly person like Ophelia.

But, even so… Why did it have to be Ophelia…? If the real Gian truly arranged for them to meet from beyond the grave, Claudio would have to pay a visit to Gian’s grave in the near future because he had some choice words for his childhood friend.

When he spotted Claudio sporting the frown to top all frowns, Samael quickly averted his eyes.

Although Ophelia had been working through her remaining paid leave, she would be coming in to work today. Hopefully, once she arrived, Claudio’s mood would improve a bit… Although it seemed just as likely that his foul mood would only get worse. After all, Ophelia had gone to stay with the man who’d proposed to her. Frankly, it was a bit scandalous… But Samael was curious to see how it would all play out.

At the moment, Angelo was engrossed in fiddling with a puzzle ring during working hours, and for some reason, Bruno was making a face like he’d just taken a bite of something bitter. Samael was clutching his head when the door to the Director’s Office swung open.

“Good morning,” Ophelia’s familiar voice rang out.

Everyone looked up, and in unison, their eyes bugged out. Right beside Ophelia stood Gian with an arm snaked familiarly around her waist.

“This is where I leave you, Ophie. Have a good day at work.”

“Thank you, Lord Gian.”

“Wait just a minute.”

Claudio stopped Gian just as he was about to leave. The mushy smile melted off Gian’s face instantly when he turned to Claudio.

“What do you want, Claudio?”

“I believe I barred you from entering the building, interloper.”

“There’s not a receptionist alive who has the nerve to go against the Vigatto family.”

“Then I suppose I’ll have to adjust the magical item in the entryway to zap you the next time you try to enter.”

Gian folded his arms and leaned back, glaring petulantly at Claudio. “I’m just walking my dear Ophie to work. One never knows when or where an attack might occur, after all.” After spitting that out, Gian turned to Ophelia and drew her against his body. “We did positively unspeakable things together in bed, I’ll have you know. At this stage in our relationship, it doesn’t matter what anyone has to say. All right then, Ophie, I’ll be going now. If Claudio bullies you, you tell me right away, okay?”

Ophelia’s cheeks flushed a telling shade of deep crimson. Grinning like the cat who got the cream, Gian sauntered out of the room, closing the door sharply behind him.

“Ophelia! Unspeakable things?! Exactly what kind of unspeakable things are we not talking about?!” Angelo crowed.

“L-Lady Narve, this is…” Bruno stuttered.

“I don’t remember raising you like that, young lady!” Samael scolded.

Faced with her three coworkers’ relentless questioning, Ophelia’s blush only deepened. “I… I reserve the right to remain silent! If they knew what I’ve done, Father and Bernard would be so angry…”

Unable to lie, Ophelia’s only recourse was to remain silent. She clapped her hands over her ears and slid into her seat, where she remained slumped, face-down on the desk, until her burning cheeks returned to normal. That only sent the three men into a greater tizzy.

“I-I can’t believe Ophelia did something like that…”

“She couldn’t have really done something so drastic, could she?”

“That’s unacceptable for an unmarried lady! …Well, but I guess it’s actually not so uncommon for young folks these days…?”

Claudio stood abruptly, causing his chair to screech loudly as he pushed it back. His three flustered underlings snapped their gaping mouths closed in surprise at the unexpectedly calm expression on his face.

“Oi, Ophelia. Get ready to head out.”

“Y-Yes, sir! Where are we going?”

“To the Cathedral.”

🌷 🌷 🌷

THE same driver as the other day guided the carriage smoothly down the road toward the Cathedral. Claudio had shut the curtains the moment they climbed inside, leaving Ophelia to stare aimlessly at the toes of her boots.

“…You and Gian…” Claudio began, but no matter how long Ophelia waited, no continuation came.

Ophelia raised her head and found Claudio staring intensely at her. Normally, his gaze was surly, but right now the downward tilt of his eyebrows looked almost… uneasy? Ophelia tilted her head just the tiniest bit, puzzled by this expression she’d never seen on his face before.

“What was the ‘unspeakable thing’ you and Gian did?”

Ophelia flinched.

“But, you’re… You’re both women…!”

“I-I can’t talk about it! I know it was wrong, but…”

“I’m not going to let it go until you tell me, you know.”

“Eep!”

“I won’t tell anyone. Just say it. Have I ever lied to you?”

“No, you haven’t.”

Ophelia’s unhesitating response eased Claudio’s foul mood a bit. However, not a moment later, he was frowning again and glaring at Ophelia. Claudio’s finger tapped irritably on the windowsill as he awaited her response.

“Just… Please don’t tell Father… He’d be so disappointed in me…”

“What did that bastard make you do?! Hurry up and spit it out already!”

“Eek! W-We ate sweets after we’d already brushed our teeth! Not only that, but we ate them in bed and got crumbs all over the place! I’m sure you know how messy pastries can be…”

Claudio’s elbow slipped off the windowsill, but Ophelia didn’t notice. Face pale, she pressed her hands to her cheeks and continued, speaking slowly.

“And after that we… We ate strawberry shortcake with our hands! …I’ve never done something like that before. I knew it was wrong, but… I just couldn’t refuse! Lord Gian made it look so tasty! Then we stayed up most of the night reading magazines, and, and… Didn’t wake up until noon! Please, please don’t tell Father. If Father finds out, I… I… will probably be grounded from dessert forever!”

Ophelia gazed off into the distance longingly, probably remembering the strawberry shortcake.

Claudio, who at some point during Ophelia’s confession had grasped his forehead in his right hand and lowered his head, finally spoke. “…I thought it must be something like that…!”

Gian, you bastard…! What the hell was up with that highly suggestive phrasing?! I’m really going to banish him from the Ministry of Justice—no, the entire Royal Palace—once and for all!

For a while, the only sounds were the rhythmic clopping of the horses’ hooves and the faint squeaking of the wheels. The two remained silent for a time, but then Claudio let out a heavy sigh, prompting Ophelia to look up.

“Um, Director…” Ophelia began hesitantly, as if testing the waters. “What is our business at the Cathedral?”

Claudio leaned his elbow on the windowsill and propped his chin up on his hand, a sulky expression on his face as he turned just his eyes toward Ophelia. “There are still a few things I want to ask the pope. I’m not the type to leave things open-ended like that.”

“Um, am I really necessary?”

“There’s no guarantee that the pope won’t lie. And besides, you’re an involved party, right?”

While they were discussing this, the carriage pulled up in front of the Cathedral. Just like the last time they were here, Ophelia held on to the belt of Claudio’s jacket as they walked through the entrance gate and into the Cathedral grounds.

Perhaps because the foreign Lartomeum followers had all disappeared, the Cathedral was much less crowded than the last time they were here. Ophelia got her first good look at the front of the Cathedral up close.

The ancient Cathedral gave off an aura of solemn dignity, right down to the marks left on the pillars from countless repairs over the years. The dullness of the floor, despite the Cathedral’s impeccable cleanliness, served as proof of the hundreds of thousands of feet that had trodden this path to offer their prayers to God.

“…Will you also have your wedding ceremony at the Cathedral, Director?” Ophelia asked.

“Who knows. Wait a minute, what do you mean by ‘also’?”

“Lord Gian was saying he wants to hold a flashy wedding ceremony for us at the Cathedral.”

“Don’t listen to anything he says; he’s just talking big.”

They slowly made their way up the stairs leading to the front door. The way their footsteps echoed unnaturally loudly across the space made Ophelia lose her nerve, and she unconsciously clutched Claudio’s belt a bit tighter.

The door creaked as Claudio pushed it open, and Ophelia nervously peeked inside.

Claudio ran his hand gently down her back, as if trying to brush away her fears. They waited a moment, but no one appeared, so Claudio barged right in. His hand was still on Ophelia’s back, steering her forward, so she was propelled into the Cathedral as well, scrambling to avoid tripping over her feet. Once inside, she looked around curiously.

“His Holiness isn’t here.”

Ophelia’s voice echoed down the long, empty hallway.

Just as Claudio, gripping his chin with his free hand, was starting to think that the pope had probably run off somewhere with his broom in hand again, Ophelia began walking unsteadily in the direction they’d gone last time.

“There you go again, running headfirst into an unknown situation…”

“Director, what’s this?” Ophelia asked, pointing to a round pool of water just outside the prayer hall and tilting her head slightly.

“That’s the holy water font. You’re supposed to purify yourself before praying by washing your hands with that water,” Claudio explained calmly. He’d given up on trying to tell Ophelia to use her common sense by this point, knowing that she possessed none.

Water ran in a slow but steady stream from an elaborately engraved faucet jutting out of the wall, and a simple silver vessel with support legs at its base was placed in the pool to catch the water. Ophelia stared as if transfixed at the water that poured over the sides of the vessel into the pool below. She reached out to submerge just the tips of her fingers in the falling water, and her shoulders flinched from how shockingly cold it was.

“Did they always have this silver vessel here?” Claudio muttered to himself. He couldn’t remember but assumed it must’ve always been there. Claudio leaned forward to peer into the font, causing Ophelia to chuckle.

“What?”

“Isn’t there an old fable that says if you look at your reflection too long in the water’s surface, you’ll fall hopelessly in love with yourself, or something? It reminded me of that.”

“I’m not that much of an idiot, thanks,” Claudio shot back sulkily. But when he noticed Ophelia’s reflection in the water, smiling, his expression returned to normal. “…But if you say you like this face, then it’s not so bad… I guess.”

Ophelia’s reflection raised her head suddenly. Unable to decipher the intentions behind Claudio’s comment, her mouth dropped open, but no words came out.

“But I suppose there’s no point in saying such things to someone as pure-hearted as you.”

Claudio kept his gaze trained on the water’s surface as he said that, and when he looked up, he was startled to find Ophelia’s face much closer than he’d realized. Probably because he’d brought up the topic of his face, Ophelia was gazing up at him, examining it studiously. Ophelia, too, was startled at the sudden, intense eye contact, and they both remained like that for a long moment, frozen, just gazing at one another.

Her face is actually very cute. How did I ever think her plain? Just as Claudio thought that, approaching footsteps came from behind the pair.

“It’s said that the water in the font reflects the true feelings of those who look into it.”

“Those aren’t my true feelings!” Claudio leapt back at the sound of the pope’s amused voice, putting distance between himself and Ophelia.

Claudio’s shout sent a tremor through Ophelia’s body. Seeing this, he unconsciously made a bitter face.

A short distance away, the pope grinned mischievously.

“Oh-ho? Whatever were you thinking just now, Your Grace?”

The pope pressed a hand over his mouth in a refined expression, pretending to be scandalized. Then he reached out and, without hesitation, shoved his other hand into the stream of holy water, casually picking up the silver vessel. Without a basin to collect it, the water pouring from the faucet fell directly into the pool, making a different but not unpleasant rhythmic splashing noise.

“So we meet again, just as I thought.”

Realizing that the pope was looking at her, Ophelia automatically bowed her head. The pope smiled at her kindly, wrinkles forming around his eyes.

“Your Holiness, I can’t stop thinking about the holy remains, so I’ve come here to talk to you about it. Could you spare a moment of your time?” Claudio asked.

“Of course. I had a feeling you’d be by sooner or later.”

Just as Claudio was opening his mouth to respond, he felt a tug on the belt of his jacket. He glanced down and saw Ophelia looking back and forth between the pope and himself, her eyes flickering uneasily. Claudio patted her head lightly, and her lips tightened, seemingly in relief.

“Have you been doing that all along, deceiving everyone by bringing in fake holy remains?” he asked.

The pope’s eyebrows rose high on his forehead. “‘Deceiving everyone,’ really? That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think? I admit that day what we transported to the chapel was not the holy remains.”

Claudio glanced over at Ophelia for confirmation, but her body wasn’t shaking. Claudio’s gaze slid back to the pope.

The pope used one hand to hold back the sleeve on his other arm so he could shake the silver vessel to drain the remaining water. He gazed for a long moment at the distorted reflection of his face in one of the droplets. Then, when he noticed Ophelia curiously looking at the vessel in his hands, he passed it to her.

“It seems that long ago, visitors to the Cathedral were welcome to casually pick this silver vessel up and handle it. It had become so tarnished that it was completely black and was relegated to a shelf in the pope’s private office. The first task I undertook upon being inaugurated was polishing the silver vessel.”

“It does look very old,” Ophelia observed.

“Yes, it originally belonged to a holy being who lived a very long time ago.”

After casting a confirming glance at Ophelia, who was holding the silver vessel gingerly with both hands wrapped as far around it as they would go, Claudio nodded and spoke.

“Then you mean to say that this is a true holy relic?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Ophelia’s head jerked up, and she gawked at the pope with wide eyes following his easy confirmation. Then she slowly dropped her eyes back down to the silver vessel in her hands.

“Huh? B-But is it really okay for someone like me to touch it?!”

“Of course. Didn’t you hear what I said? In the past, everyone who visited used to touch it.”

The pope, still smiling, continued on as if talking to himself. “People’s fingers are very special; you can perceive a lot of things through touch. But all things that have shape will eventually break. At some point, there must’ve been a pope who found this too much to bear, so he hid the holy vessel away where no one could touch it and created fake holy remains. Even if they are the remains of a holy being, there aren’t many people who’d want to touch a dead body, after all.”

Ophelia grimaced, remembering how she herself had freaked out upon learning the holy remains were actually a dead body.

“And, anyway, it’s much more impressive to have the all-important ‘holy remains’ displayed during ceremonies rather than plopping this dinky old silver vessel on the altar, right?” The pope gave Ophelia a cheeky wink as he said that, and she nodded timidly in response.

The silver vessel in her hands wasn’t exceptionally valuable in terms of its construction, but it was well cared for and had been polished to a sheen. Long, long before Ophelia was even born, countless people had come here to offer their prayers and gratitude to this holy vessel. Her thoughts ran through all of that as her fingers absently ran over a shallow indent in the vessel’s surface.

“Ophelia, put that thing back in the holy water font already. It makes me nervous to have you holding it.”

“Y-Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

At Claudio’s urging, Ophelia put the silver vessel back into the pool. The water falling from the faucet poured into the vessel, and in no time at all, it began to overflow. The runoff flowed into the pool, filling it back up.

“You seem quite familiar with how to handle this young lady, Your Grace.”

Claudio frowned, folded his arms, and evasively turned his body to the side. “Well, yeah, she is my employee after all.”

“And yet you, the duke infamous for despising liars, have been bringing her around with you. She must be quite the woman.” The pope turned so he was facing Ophelia straight on. Ophelia straightened her spine reflexively. “It was true that I was gathering branches to roast potatoes. I do that every year. As a token of my gratitude for your kind concern for the staff here, I’ll invite you to join me.”

It seemed that the pope was exceedingly fond of roasted potatoes. A little giggle escaped Ophelia, and she nodded shyly in acceptance of the invitation, causing the pope’s smile to deepen.

“You’ll have to keep this a secret just between us, you understand.”

After saying this, the pope bowed his head to Claudio and took his leave.

🌷 🌷 🌷

IN the carriage on the way back to the Royal Palace, Claudio resumed the same posture as on the ride there, with his elbow on the windowsill and supporting his chin on his hand as he gazed out the window.

“It’s said that the water in the font reflects the true feelings of those who look into it.”

The pope must’ve just made that up to mess with me. There’s no way something like that could be real.

The more he thought about it, the clearer his thoughts became. Perhaps it was about time he was honest with himself about his feelings. But first, he needed to take care of the report he’d asked Samael to write up.

Claudio dropped his gaze to Ophelia, seated beside him, and found her cupping her chin with one hand, deep in thought.

“What are you thinking about?”

If she were thinking the same thing… Claudio was surprised at himself for the faint hope that flickered to life in his chest at the thought.

Oblivious to Claudio holding his breath in anticipation of her response, Ophelia’s frown deepened.

“If you look very closely at that silver vessel, there’s a faint crack in it. If you tried to put a drink in there, it would leak out right away.”

Claudio’s sudden and fierce glare had Ophelia cringing just the tiniest bit.

“Sigh. I was a moron for expecting anything from you.”

“Wh-What is that supposed to mean?!”

“Ugh, I’m tired. When we get back, make me a cup of coffee, will you?” Claudio said, heaving another big sigh and massaging his temple. Ophelia couldn’t see his expression very well, but she smiled happily at his request.

“Okay! I’ve gotten pretty good at making coffee lately, if I do say so myself!”

“You’re the only one saying that.”

“Just leave it to me!”

“You know what? I’ll make it myself after all.”

“I will brew my heart and soul into that coffee.”

“…Whatever.”

When they got back to the Director’s Office, Ophelia outdid herself and brewed a spectacularly bitter cup of coffee.

Chapter 7: The First Lie

Chapter 7: The First Lie

OPHELIA sighed. Although she’d been cleaning every day in preparation for her upcoming transfer, the number of items on her desk only seemed to increase.

Every day, flowers and sweets arrived from Gian. Ophelia picked up one of the bouquets and noticed Claudio watching her from over the top of the flowers as if he wanted to say something. She held his gaze for a moment, assuming he had some orders for her, but he never said anything. When she finally couldn’t stand the awkwardness any longer and looked away, he also turned away irritably.

What’s up with him? He’s been like this ever since we went to the Cathedral.

Ophelia stood, intending to transfer the flowers into a vase, but a moment later, the bouquet was snatched right out of her hands.

“Let me help you with that.”

Bruno, flashing a brilliant smile that rivaled the flowers in its beauty, strode across the room and opened the door leading into the kitchenette. Ophelia raced after him.

“I really don’t want to be a bother to you, Lord Bruno…”

“You sound like the groveling underling of a demon lord when you phrase it like that.”

Bruno dipped his hands into a bucket of water and, with practiced movements, clipped the flower stems with a pair of scissors, trimming them down. If she was being completely honest, Ophelia was grateful for his insistence on helping her since this task required a good deal of arm strength, and as such, she didn’t try too hard to stop him.

“You seem quite familiar with stories featuring demon lords,” she remarked.

“Of course. As a child, I was fond of epic tales where heroes battled monsters and demons. I owned a lot of those kinds of books.”

Come to think of it, Bernard used to read books like that, too. However, something told Ophelia that the books Bruno had read as a child were much more advanced, containing many more words and a more difficult vocabulary than those Bernard had owned. While recalling her brother’s carefree expression, Ophelia prepared a vase for the flowers.

“Whenever I read those legendary tales, I would always wonder what inspired the heroes to take it upon themselves to go out questing to vanquish demons in the first place,” Bruno remarked almost as if talking to himself. Ophelia stood a short distance away, wiping dust off the flower vase with a rag and listening as he continued, “On their way to the demon lord’s castle, they would always inevitably spend the night in some nearby village where they would involve themselves in total strangers’ problems and somehow end up adopting a troublesome familiar.”

“I never realized people read heroic tales with such a perspective.” Ophelia filled the vase with water, a bit hesitant as she considered Bruno’s words. Once the vase was ready, Bruno plopped the trimmed flowers in.

“I feel that way all the time recently,” he admitted.

“What?”

“I never intended to get involved, I swear—it’s entirely unwilling, I assure you! But you both know what to do to achieve your objective, and yet neither will make the first move. It’s not in my nature to stand by silently watching, so I’ll lend you a hand.”

Bruno made that announcement with his brows raised as if pleading with her to understand, and all Ophelia could do was stare at him with her mouth open in a mixture of confusion and shock. She couldn’t understand what he was trying to say.

“All right, we’d better get back. If we dawdle for too long, we’ll get scolded by the demon lord.”

By “demon lord,” is he referring to Claudio? Ophelia pressed a hand over her mouth and bit back a laugh.

“Looks like you’re also one of the demon lord’s underlings.”

It seemed that Bruno had joined Ophelia’s questing party. Although she still wasn’t entirely sure what the quest was…

🌷 🌷 🌷

“HEY, Ophie… Why hasn’t anyone started any rumors about us, even though we go on dates in highly visible places like this every day?”

They were currently seated in the exclusive and highly visible reservation-only terrace seating area on the second floor of a popular café in the Royal City’s bustling downtown area. These seats, which offered an excellent view of the fountain in the courtyard below, were allegedly booked out months in advance. There had been a last-minute cancellation, enabling Gian to get a reservation. It paid to have the social connections of a ducal house.

“Rumors…?”

Since the proposal, Gian had sent Ophelia presents and invited her on dates nearly every day. However, they still didn’t appear to be a couple at all. The likely reason for this was…

Still pouting, Gian reached for a cream puff. Without holding back, Ophelia likewise grabbed a savarin. Not long ago, a plethora of plates, each bearing a different dessert, crowded the table, but now only a few stragglers remained.

This terrace seating area gave the patrons a good view of passersby, but those same passersby also had a good view of the patrons. But to the people who spotted them as they went about their business, Ophelia and Gian likely looked less like a couple and more like two sweets enthusiasts indulging in a shared interest. When they’d gone on a date strolling through the city, they’d shopped up a storm, and surely the people around them must’ve assumed they were simply friends. It made sense they came off this way. They were, after all, two friends who had become quite close by this point. There was no reason that anyone should perceive a romantic atmosphere between them.

“It’s probably that no one recognizes you due to your secluded lifestyle, so there’s no reason for gossip. I’m sure that’s all it is.” Ophelia reached for the teapot, intending to refill her teacup.

“I suppose that’s also true, but you and Claudio are causing much more of a stir than you and I.”

“Oh? What do you mean?”

“They’re saying that you two have been secretly holding hands whenever you go out on work trips.”

“We weren’t holding hands!”

Gian shot her an unconvinced look when Ophelia became flustered, explaining that she’d merely been holding onto Claudio’s jacket to prevent herself from shaking due to the crowds surrounding them.

“Furthermore, there are a lot of rumors focused on you in particular going around in society.”

“What kind of rumors?” Ophelia frowned, having no idea what anyone could possibly come up with to gossip about when it came to her boring life.

“You know the type: a fated meeting between two star-crossed lovers who are forced to keep their feelings a secret, a seemingly insurmountable difference in social rank, and the wrath of a vengeful and wicked fiancée.” Gian reached for his teacup, displeased as he recounted what sounded like the synopsis of a trashy romance novel.

“Lady Stella isn’t like that, and she’s not harassing me either,” Ophelia protested sulkily, and after a moment of consideration, Gian cocked his head to the side.

“…Those rumors are too well-fleshed-out and seem to contain a suspicious amount of insider information.”

Most of the people who worked at the Ministry of Justice sympathized with Ophelia, given that the only interaction they’d ever witnessed between her and Claudio was him shouting at her. And she didn’t think that anyone who actually knew them well would spread such malicious rumors.

Then what was going on here? Ophelia, too, tilted her head to the side as she thought it over.

“I can’t think of anyone who stands to gain anything from the two of you becoming the topic of rumors. But either way, why did it have to be Claudio of all people?” Out of nowhere, Gian suddenly stabbed the cream puff on his plate with his fork, causing Ophelia’s eyes to go wide. “…I did say you could take a secret lover, but him? Hmm, but I can’t deny that he’s smart and good-looking… I suppose that could work, but there’s still the problem of that personality of his…”

As he rambled to himself, Gian picked up the cream puff by the fork, impaling it through the center, and took a huge bite.

“What are you talking about?!”

Gian replied to Ophelia’s agitated question in a tone that implied the answer should be obvious. “I’m talking about raising your lovechild with Claudio as our own, of course.”

“Wh-Wh-What?! What are you saying?! That would never happen!”

“I think a little pink-haired version of you would be really cute…”

Just as she was about to point out that their child could just as easily be a mini-me of the director with boring brown hair, Ophelia stopped herself. This was no joking matter.

“Sigh. I don’t lie to you, either. Why couldn’t it have been me?”

After heaving a huge sigh, Gian plucked an especially large and juicy strawberry off a fruit platter and chucked it into his mouth. Before he’d even finished chewing the first strawberry, he picked up another, which quickly met the same fate.

Just as Ophelia was thinking Wait a minute, what about the stem?! Is he going to swallow the stem, too?! a shadow fell across the table.

🌷 🌷 🌷

SLAM! The sound of the door being thrown open echoed throughout the Director’s Office, startling Claudio, who’d been absorbed in his work. When he looked up, Bruno strode straight up to his desk, breathing hard.

“Director! What in the world have you been doing?!”

“What do you mean? I’ve been trying to catch up on this mountain of paperwork for hours.”

“I heard from Angelo; Lady Narve has gone out with Duke Vigatto again today.”

Claudio’s mouth twisted in disgust. Allegedly, there had been a sudden cancellation at the most popular café in town, and Ophelia had been practically vibrating with excitement since the day before, looking forward to trying their cakes. But there was no way anyone would’ve cancelled their hard-won reservation at such a restaurant. Claudio was willing to bet that Gian had called in some favors and weaseled his way into a reservation.

“What of it?”

Claudio had already returned to looking over the papers in his hand as he said this nonchalantly, and Bruno took the hint, straightening his posture and adjusting his collar, which had been cast into disarray while storming in here in an agitated state.

“Pardon me, I got a bit carried away. Are you in agreement with Lady Narve and Duke Vigatto marrying, then, Director?”

“Of course not.” His eyes boring holes in the document he was working on, Claudio muttered, “Anyone but him.”

Bruno’s hackles lowered the tiniest bit, and he nodded enthusiastically. “I feel the same. In any case, I’m strongly opposed to the match with Duke Vigatto. There’s something suspicious about him.”

He’s pretty sharp.

Just as he was about to say that, Claudio thought better of it and closed his mouth. However, Bruno rarely lost his cool and was so vocal about his opinions.

It seemed that what Claudio was thinking showed on his face, because a moment later, Bruno poutily turned away.

“I didn’t think my part to play would come up so quickly.”

“What have you been playing at this whole time?”

“I’m the one who should be asking you that! Director, please go take Lady Narve back right away. I will take care of your work for you while you’re gone. You know I’m more than capable!”

With this, Bruno grabbed Claudio’s arm, attempting to drag him to his feet. However, Claudio was more heavily built than him and refused to budge. After glaring back at Bruno for a moment, Claudio finally spoke.

“Why do I have to do something like that?”

“Are you still pretending not to care? Ugh, you really piss me off, you know that?! In any case, Lady Miranda just overheard some of the staff saying that Lady Narve and Duke Vigatto were at a café downtown.”

Claudio’s chair clattered as he shoved it back to abruptly stand.

“I’m sure there’s going to be quite a commotion. Please hurry.”

“You take care of the rest here. Sorry.”

Claudio snatched his jacket off the back of his chair and raced out of the office.

🌷 🌷 🌷

A shadow fell across the table.

What’s going on?

Ophelia looked up and sensed Gian stir in his chair.

“This will not do,” a calm, refined voice called out.

Ophelia turned slowly toward the familiar voice. “Lady Stella…”

“Not only do you put your hands on another woman’s fiancé, but you’ve also got designs on yet another man? You really are shameless, aren’t you?” Stella stood with her arms crossed, looking down at Ophelia, a wide-brimmed hat perched atop her flawlessly styled hair.

Gian’s eyes narrowed, and he smoothly rose to his feet, posture perfect. Ophelia’s hands trembled faintly. It seemed Gian had slipped on his facade. “Lady Meucci, I suggest you stop treating my fiancée so disrespectfully.”

“Goodness, fiancée, you say? You really are the cat burglar the rumors make you out to be if you were even able to ensnare a duke who hardly ever shows himself in public.”

A shiver wracked Ophelia’s body, there and gone in a second. Sharp-eyed as ever, Gian didn’t fail to notice.

“A cat burglar? People are calling me that…?” Ophelia asked.

“That’s what they call women who cozy up to engaged men, dear. It fits you perfectly; don’t you agree?”

Stella snorted out a derisive chuckle and raised her chin arrogantly as she spoke. Another shudder ran through Ophelia’s body, causing her to jolt up slightly in her chair. Gian grasped his chin in his hand and tilted his head to the side, examining Stella closely.

“…Your Grace, I’m worried about your eyesight if you believe you see anything of worth in this girl. A plain woman like her is entirely unsuited for someone of your station.”

“You certainly don’t mince your words, Lady Meucci. What makes you think that?”

Stella’s chin jerked up again, and she turned to the side, ignoring Gian’s question. Even for the daughter of a marquis, it was inexcusably rude to ignore a duke. Gian kept Ophelia in the corner of his eye and let one corner of his mouth cock up just a bit.

Sensing a crackle of danger in the atmosphere, Ophelia frantically cleaned up the empty plates scattered across the tabletop.

“Oh! F-Forgive me, Lady Stella! Please, have a seat!”

“Huh? …As if I would be caught dead sitting beside someone like you.”

“Go on, Lady Meucci. Sit.”

Gian pulled out the seat on his other side, his tone making it clear that refusing was not an option. Stella frowned prettily, then reluctantly sat down on the very edge of the proffered seat.

“L-Lady Stella, the tea isn’t very hot anymore, but… Oh, my apologies! I’ll order a fresh pot right away! Please wait just a moment…”

Stella cleared her throat to catch Ophelia’s attention and raised a hand to stop her. “I don’t intend to stay long.”

Ophelia, who’d been in the process of rising to call for a waiter, obediently sat back down. Her shaking had settled down again. It seemed Stella really did plan to leave soon.

Gian, who’d at some point plopped his chin down on his hand with his elbow braced against the table, puffed out his cheeks in an expression of amusement. “I’ve been wanting to have a private conversation with you.”

“…With me?” Stella replied suspiciously.

Gian placed a rather squashed leftover cream puff on a plate and set it in front of Stella. “I want you to make absolutely certain that you marry Claudio.”

“What?! Haven’t you been listening to a thing I’ve been saying?!”

Ophelia poured the lukewarm tea into a fresh cup and had just set it down beside the cream puff when Stella grabbed her hand.

“O-Oh! I just thought you might like something to drink with your sweets…!”

“I told you I don’t want it! I have no desire to make friends with the two of you!”

“Oh, I want to hold hands with Lady Meucci too!” Gian chimed in.

“Both of you, listen to me!”

“Lady Stella, um, uh, these strawberries are delicious on their own, but they taste even better if you put them on the cream puff.”

“You’re such a good girl, Ophie.”

“Stop it! You’re trying to change the topic!”

“I’m so sorry! Would you like to take a look at the menu, Lady Stella?” Ophelia asked.

“So, what do you say, Lady Meucci? Shall we combine forces?” Gian asked.

“What in the world are you talking about?!”

Stella’s loud shriek caused several passersby on the street below to stop and stare up at the terrace. She frantically covered her mouth with one hand and used the other to pull the hat down a bit further to hide her face.

“A-Anyways, Lady Ophelia. You simply must stop this flighty behavior of yours.”

“Y-Yes, of course.”

Although Ophelia reflexively agreed, she honestly didn’t really understand what Stella meant. But something told her this wasn’t the time to mention that, so she kept her mouth shut.

Still leaning his chin on his hand, Gian remarked with a sigh, “Lady Meucci, you contradict yourself. I would think that Ophelia and I marrying would be in your best interest as well…”

“I… felt the need, as a member of this country’s nobility, to warn her about how unbecoming such a careless attitude is for a lady, that’s all…”

Gian glanced discreetly over at Ophelia. She was hiding her hands under the table, but by this point, even her shoulders had begun trembling. With a quiet, “Hmm…” Gian pinched his chin, deep in thought.

“Lady Ophelia, please cease meeting alone like this with men whom you aren’t even formally engaged to,” Stella said. “That should be the most basic of common sense for any unmarried noblewoman. All right, then, stand up. It’s time to go.”

“Huh? B-But I still haven’t eaten the cake I was saving for last!”

“Ophie is the type to save her favorites for last,” Gian explained.

“I don’t care about such nonsense!” Stella slapped both hands down on the table, causing the stacked plates to rattle and clink together.

Gian slid his hand from his chin to cover his mouth, concealing the fact that he was smirking. “Why did you really come here, Lady Meucci?” he asked.

Slightly calmer—but only slightly—Stella glared in Ophelia’s direction. “You’re the ones colluding here in such a public place, and you’re asking me why? I heard that you were having a secret tryst here and raced right over, of course.”

“I see, so rumors of our date reached all the way to you… If so, then he should be here any minute…”

“Who should be here any minute?”

Ophelia tilted her head to the side, confused, but Stella gasped and leapt to her feet, ripping off her hat as she did. Then Stella screwed up her mouth and looked down at Ophelia with fierce determination in her eyes.

“Lady Ophelia! How dare you cozy up to my fiancé?!”

Stella’s sudden and loud outburst when she’d just been concealing her face made Ophelia’s body shake, for more than one reason. As expected, the passersby stopped and gawked at the sight of a marquis’s daughter worked up into an unholy rage.

“You’re just the daughter of a small-time, worthless earldom; you have a lot of nerve trying to curry favor with a duke!”

Under the gentle, balmy sun, the white skin of Stella’s cheeks, partially shaded by her long eyelashes, was slightly flushed.

Ophelia hadn’t stopped shaking since the moment Stella arrived. It was abundantly clear that her words and attitude were all lies.

Why is she lying?

Ophelia clenched her hands into tight fists and thought it over. Every time Stella admonished her for getting close to Claudio, Ophelia’s arms and legs would shake.

It was the same as the first time they met at the ball. Her shaking hadn’t been caused by fear of Claudio glaring at her or by nerves from being in front of such an incredible but intimidating lady like Stella. Now that she thought about it… The shaking hadn’t started when she laid eyes on Stella, but when she first heard her speak.

What was it that she said? I can’t recall…

“Answer me!”

Stella lunged forward and used her fan, which she’d pulled out at some point while Ophelia wasn’t paying attention, to smack Ophelia on the shoulder.

“Lady Meucci! What are you doing?!”

Gian reacted instantly, grabbing Stella by the arm. She lost her balance upon being yanked back a step, but she somehow caught herself with one hand on the table. Immediately, Stella’s head snapped back up, and she fixed a fierce glare on Ophelia.

“Let me go!”

“Stop! Ophie, run!”

For the moment, Gian was holding Stella in place, but ultimately, they were two women with similar builds. Before long, Stella shook Gian off, and she raised her fan again. Ophelia squeezed her eyes closed and braced herself as best she could despite the shaking of her arms and legs.

However, the anticipated blow never came. When Ophelia fearfully opened her eyes just a slit, a familiar black jacket blocked her entire field of view.

“Tch, he really came.” Gian clicked his tongue irritably.

Claudio was looking down at a still-trembling Ophelia, Stella’s raised arm caught in his tight grasp. For just a moment, Stella looked almost… relieved?

“Director, you don’t understand!” Ophelia blurted out.

“Why are you covering for her?”

“It made a loud noise but didn’t hurt at all. So I’m fine, really.”

“It doesn’t matter whether it hurt or not. What kind of idiot just silently waits to be hit?”

“Claudio, you’re scolding the wrong person. Ophie’s the victim here.” Gian matched Claudio’s glare with one of his own.

I see… When Gian said, “He should be here any minute,” he was referring to Claudio… He must’ve followed his fiancée here. His fiancée and the “cat burglar”… Ophelia felt a stab of pain in her chest as she looked at Claudio’s large hand wrapped around Stella’s wrist.

“In any case, stop making a scene in such a public place,” Claudio said. “Oi, Gian, go have them prepare us a private room.”

“Why me?”

“You’re the only one who can walk away at the moment; that’s why.”

Gian looked at Stella, Ophelia, and Claudio’s faces each in turn, then sighed and ran into the restaurant. Claudio finally released Stella’s wrist and looked down at Ophelia, frowning.

In no time at all, they were shown into a private room that Gian had no doubt pulled multiple strings using his status as a duke to procure. Ophelia’s legs were shaking so badly that she could hardly walk, but she didn’t dare hold onto Claudio’s jacket in front of Stella. She was doing her best to hobble along, holding onto the wall for support, when suddenly there was a tug on her arm.

“You’re wasting time. Just hold on to me already.”

As he said this, Claudio wrapped Ophelia’s much smaller hand around his arm, forcing her grasp onto him. When Ophelia’s shaking instantly stopped, Gian puffed his cheeks out irritably, and Stella’s eyebrows drew together suspiciously.

“You see how familiarly she behaves with my fiancé. This is why I was forced to correct her,” Stella, who’d taken a seat, said with a self-satisfied smile, pointing at Ophelia. In response, a shudder ran through Ophelia’s body, causing both Gian and Claudio to narrow their eyes.

“You’re getting quite full of yourself for someone from a bottom-of-the-barrel earl’s family where everyone has to work for a living. Know your place!”

“Y-Yes, ma’am!”

Stella’s mouth twisted with what seemed to be a sick rush of exhilaration at Ophelia’s immediate and subservient response. It was as if the fact that neither Claudio nor Gian made any move to stop her had fueled her descent into an almost crazed state.

“Oi, Ophelia. You don’t behave like that at all when you’re talking to me; why’s that?” Claudio asked.

“W-Well… Lady Stella appears angry, but she’s not really. Whereas when you appear angry, Director, it’s because you really are…”

“You have that right, at least. I really am angry.”

“Wah, I’m sorry!”

“Do you even know what I’m angry about?! An insincere apology is completely meaningless.”

“Eek… I’m s… Oh! Um… Uh… Wh-What are you angry about?”

“…W-Well…”

Ophelia tilted her head to the side, puzzled by Claudio uncharacteristically fumbling for a reply.

What had she done wrong? On days when no interrogations were scheduled, there wasn’t much work for Ophelia to do, so she’d taken a half-day of paid leave. But maybe it was inappropriate for her to take time off for no purpose other than to spend time lollygagging at a café, eating cakes on a workday? She recalled a saying that went something like, “If you look for work to do, you’ll always find it.” Perhaps that’s what she should’ve done instead of taking leave?

“Um, I’m sorry for missing work, if that’s…”

“That’s not it. I approved your request for leave myself.” Claudio cut her off to refute her guess.

If that’s not it, then what…? Did Claudio also want to eat cakes? No, that certainly isn’t it. If I even mention that theory, he’ll get angry for sure. Ophelia wracked her brain trying to figure out why he was upset, when suddenly it came to her, and she snapped her fingers.

“Oh! You also wanted to have tea with Lord Gian, isn’t that right, Director?”

That’s got to be it! They act like they hate each other, but they’re actually quite close. They’ve known each other since they were both kids, after all. He must be frustrated at a newcomer like me sweeping in and monopolizing all of Gian’s time.

“Huuuh?!”

Claudio’s response was a sound totally unbecoming of a highly ranked nobleman. He glared daggers at Ophelia, who suddenly became alarmingly pale and nervously looked away.

“Um, I’m sorry… I don’t know the reason. Why are you angry…?”

Ophelia’s shoulders were slumped as far as they could go while she dejectedly asked that, which caused Claudio to freeze in place. After a long moment during which he didn’t move a single muscle, Claudio finally clicked his tongue.

“…I’m angry about how pathetic I am for being pushed to the side.”

Gian glanced over at a dumbfounded Ophelia to confirm that she wasn’t shaking, then flopped face-first down on the table with a sigh. Stella, not quite understanding what was going on, furrowed her beautiful brows and looked back and forth between the three of them.

“Aw, come on, man… Why do I have to end up as the third wheel…?” Gian moaned.

It seemed that Stella somehow made out his muffled words, because she bit her lip prettily. “So the two of you really are in that sort of relationship! Lord Claudio, it’s too much to play around like this when you have a fiancée such as myself! What could you possibly see in an unremarkable girl like her, anyway?” Stella’s low, menacing voice caused Ophelia’s entire body to tremble.

“…Stella, do you really want to marry me?” Claudio asked.

“Of course.”

Ophelia jolted so hard that she leapt in her chair. Stella’s true answer was clear. Gian, still splayed out on the table, sighed again. Claudio had his arms folded, and his head tipped back to look up at the ceiling.

Stella’s eyes flashed with anger as she took in their strange behavior. “What is up with all of you?! You’ve been acting very strange this whole time! …In any case, you need to scurry back to the Architectural Institute right away. I will ask Father to see to it that you’re transferred immediately. You’re nothing but an eyesore!”

Stella raised the arm that held her fan over her head. Gian and Claudio reacted simultaneously to grab Stella’s arm, sparks flying when their sharp gazes met. Some small part of Ophelia, who’d reflexively covered her head with trembling arms and shrunk down to make herself as small a target as possible, took this exchange as proof that the two old friends really were as close as she’d suspected.

“Lady Ophelia, you’ve been shaking nonstop this whole time. Is there something you want to say?” Stella shook off the hands restraining her and looked down at Ophelia coldly. It wasn’t as if Ophelia was shaking on purpose, and she didn’t know what Stella’s objective was in asking this, so she didn’t know how to respond.

I don’t know! I really don’t know! I don’t understand anything. What do you want from me?!

Even Stella seemed alarmed by the way Ophelia suddenly clutched her head as if on the verge of a breakdown.

“H-Hey, are you okay? You have some kind of condition after all, don’t you?”

“This isn’t an illness; she’s just prone to emotionally unstable and suspicious behavior. Don’t mind her,” Claudio said.

“E-Emotionally unstable and suspicious…? What…?!”

“I told you not to worry about it.” With a heavy sigh, Claudio stretched out his left arm across the table. “Oi, Ophelia. Grab on.”

“Why?”

“This conversation is going nowhere while you’re like that. Hold on to me.”

“…I’m sorry.”

Ophelia reluctantly grasped Claudio’s proffered arm, and finally her shaking stopped. Without meaning to, she let out a sigh of relief.

Stella frowned deeply and tilted her head to the side, clearly puzzled, as she sank silently down into her chair again.

“Ophelia, you’ve sat by quietly while all sorts of things were being said to you, but don’t you have anything you’d like to say in return?” Claudio prompted.

“Huh? Me? Um, not in particular…”

“Your legs are shaking. There must be something you want to say.”

“Urk…” Ophelia peeked timidly up at Stella and saw the other woman draw her pinched lips out in an intimidating smile.

“Go on, then. You may speak.”

“Um, Lady Stella… Wh-Wh-Why are you lying like this?”

“…!”

“Lady Stella, you… You don’t strike me as the type of person to speak harshly to others….”

A shocked expression flashed across Stella’s face for a moment before she schooled her features into a calm mask and straightened her spine. “I’m not lying. Your behavior was simply too distasteful to tolerate, so I felt the need to correct you.”

“But, um…”

Ophelia squeezed Claudio’s arm with hands that had once again started trembling. Claudio scrutinized Ophelia’s hands for a long moment before flicking his gaze over to Stella.

“Stella, I’m going to ask you again. Do you want to marry me?”

“It’s not a matter of what I want or don’t want. I am your fiancée, as approved by His Majesty the King.”

“Answer the question. Do you or do you not want to marry me?”

With a beautiful and entirely fake smile that any young noblewoman would be proud of, Stella responded, “Of course I want to marry you.” Ophelia’s shoulders jerked violently.

“Very well. Then if you’re so opposed to her, I’ll send Ophelia back to the Architectural Institute at once. With that, this conversation is over.”

“Yes, that’s fine with me.”

The entire time Stella was looking down at her victoriously with her arms crossed, Ophelia couldn’t stop trembling.

“It must’ve been quite a nuisance for you, too, Lord Claudio, having someone like this persistently sticking to you. It’s good that you’re getting rid of her now before any damage can befall your good name.”

“Ohh…”

“I see, so you were worried about my good name being sullied, is that it?”

“Yes. Even if for just a moment, it’s unacceptable for any untoward rumors to spread regarding you, Lord Claudio.”

“Oh, ohh…”

Stella glared fiercely at Ophelia, who had her eyes squeezed shut and was fighting to control her body’s shaking.

“I’m talking about you, you know! Are you even listening?! What have you been making those weird moaning sounds for since earlier?!”

“Eek! I’m sorry!”

“Please stop, Lady Meucci. That’s just how she is,” Gian piped up, gently interrupting Stella’s tirade.

With a glance at Stella, who was muttering under her breath something along the lines of “Nobody’s that weird!” Claudio spoke up.

“Stella, I have no particular desire to be married. I can have the engagement dissolved at any time. You don’t need to worry about the king. So how about you start being honest with me?”

“What are you talking about?!”

“You don’t want to marry me, do you?”

“Why are you putting this off on me?!”

“Why? You go out of your way to try to anger me. All you have to do is say the words. Tell me you don’t want to marry me.”

“‘I don’t want to get married…’? That’s not something I…” Stella’s lips trembled, and her face grew gradually paler.

“Surrounding yourself with an entourage of simpering gossips, causing scenes in public places, and blatantly harassing Ophelia… You can’t pretend that’s not all for a bigger purpose.”

“…Those things are all just a coincidence.”

“Who do you take me for? …Do you seriously believe I would say this without any proof?”

“…!”

Stella let out a gasp and pressed her hands over her mouth, prompting Gian, who was now propping his head up on his hand, elbow resting on the table, to speak.

“This isn’t an interrogation, you know, Claudio.”

Claudio, who’d conspicuously fallen silent, cleared his throat pointedly.

Stella remained with her hands covering her mouth, looking down at her feet.

The heavy, unpleasant silence continued until Ophelia, unable to bear it any longer, squeezed Claudio’s arm tightly.

“Ow…”

“Lady Stella! The director may be twice… er, make that three times as prickly as other people, but he’s not a bad person! I’m sure he’ll understand if you just explain things to him.”

“Wait, wait, Ophelia, what do you mean ‘three times as prickly’…” Claudio asked in a low voice, raising just one eyebrow at Ophelia’s very specific metaphor.

After a long moment of indecision, Stella focused on Ophelia, a beseeching look in her eyes. “I… I…” Stella spoke with her hands still covering her mouth. “I wish to break the engagement with Lord Claudio.”

A single, silent tear spilled down Stella’s beautiful cheek.

“You want to break the engagement rather than dissolve it?”

Stella nodded in confirmation, causing another tear to fall.

No one said anything. Stella covered her face with both hands, and the only sound in the small room was the rustling of her clothes as she bent forward, almost curling into a ball in her seat.

“I… do want to get married. …To someone else. Simply dissolving the engagement won’t be enough. I need to break the engagement and have my position as a member of the nobility stripped from me as punishment.”

Claudio narrowed his eyes.

Why would she want to have her status revoked?

“You want to eliminate the status difference between you and your lover?”

“Yes… I don’t want to be a noblewoman anymore. I want to just be Stella.”

Still leaning his chin on his hand, Gian looked up at Stella with an astounded expression. It seemed that he certainly hadn’t been expecting this.

“I see, so that rumor…”

Ophelia gasped at Gian’s muttered comment. Stella had been the one spreading the rumors about her! Rather than feeling anger at being used in Stella’s scheming, Ophelia was more surprised than anything.

“A fated meeting between two star-crossed lovers who are forced to keep their feelings a secret, and a seemingly insurmountable difference in social rank…”

She’d been referring to herself, hadn’t she? Claudio gently extricated his arm from Ophelia’s now-loose grip and gave her a little pat on the head.

“The man you’re in love with is the third son of a baron, right?”

“…Yes. His family is in service to ours, having no lands of their own. As someone with virtually no possibility of inheriting his family’s title, he might as well be a commoner. There’s no way my father would ever allow us to marry.”

Gian removed a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and used it to blot away Stella’s tears. It seemed he felt sympathy for her predicament. Perhaps he was drawing a parallel in his mind between their situations, both unable to escape their family’s plans for them. Ophelia gazed at them.

“If my behavior caused the king’s brother to break our engagement, I’d have no hope of marrying well after that. If that happened, Father would happily wash his hands of me in the quickest way possible, even if it meant marriage to a younger son of a minor noble. So please, Lord Claudio, I beg you… Use your power to ruin me.”

Claudio and Gian both looked at Ophelia questioningly. It seemed they both wanted to confirm Stella’s conviction. Ophelia wasn’t shaking at all.

That’s it! That night at the ball, when I first spotted Stella, she was saying, “I was very much looking forward to attending tonight’s ball with you, Lord Claudio.” …While imagining attending with someone else.

“Director…”

When Ophelia looked up at him, Claudio sucked in a sharp breath and furrowed his brows as if considering the matter deeply.

“…Stella, from the moment your attention fell on Ophelia, I quietly initiated an investigation into you. I knew you wouldn’t act like such a foolish, run-of-the-mill, vain, and airheaded woman for no reason. His Majesty wouldn’t have selected you as my fiancée if you were that kind of person.”

“…”

Stella didn’t say anything. She stood there silently, shoulders slumped, looking at the ground. How hadn’t she noticed? An investigation into someone the director of the Ministry of Justice considered suspicious was nothing if not thorough.

“I found out about your relationship with your childhood friend, the third son of the baron, quickly enough. When would you tell me about it? Or would you go through with marrying me, keeping it a secret the whole time? It’s almost a given for nobles of any country to have lovers after marriage, after all. I was wondering what you planned to do, but I never imagined you would resort to this.” With a long sigh, Claudio folded his arms and looked at Stella steadily. “Our engagement has already been dissolved.”

Stella was so shocked she couldn’t force her voice to work. All she could do was stare at Claudio in disbelief, her entire face refuting his claim.

“I had a little talk with that third son of the baron of yours. And I brought the results of my investigation with me.”

Stella’s shoulders quaked.

What Claudio referred to as “a little talk” must’ve included being dragged off somewhere and grilled relentlessly. Recalling her and Bernard’s ordeal of being carted off to the Ministry of Justice without any notice and questioned for what felt like hours, Ophelia felt a pang of sympathy for this faceless third son of a baron.

“He quickly understood what you were trying to do for him. It seems that he immediately went to speak with your father to try and negotiate with him for permission to marry you.”

“What?!”

At this, Stella finally found her voice. It seemed this was the first she’d heard of it. If possible, her face grew even paler.

“Just the other day, Marquis Meucci came to apologize to me in person. He was quite agitated, realizing that he’d served up a daughter who was hiding a secret lover to the duke who infamously despises liars. It was truly amusing.”

“F-Father…”

“He said that he couldn’t let his daughter appear in society anymore after incurring the wrath of the king’s own brother. It seems he plans to force the baron’s third son to take responsibility for you and bequeath one of his own minor titles upon his new son-in-law.”

“Wha…” Gian, who spoke up without meaning to, couldn’t help being impressed. No one could’ve hoped for things to go this well. Claudio had steered the situation so perfectly… Or, more likely, the entire thing had gone according to his plan all along.

Stella still didn’t seem to believe it, because she stared at Claudio with furrowed brows.

“Marquis Meucci still hasn’t announced your engagement, so I was planning to go give him a kick in the rear to get him going, but… well, I certainly didn’t expect you to raise such a ruckus.”

“…I’d thought that Avere’s been blushing and acting like there’s something he wants to say recently, but… I never would’ve guessed it was something like this…”

Stella had both hands pressed to her mouth and was blinking over and over again as she struggled to process the huge revelation. Ophelia presumed that Avere must be the name of her lover, the baron’s third son.

Claudio leaned back in his seat, smirking faintly. “I’m sure the marquis doesn’t want to make it an order from your father, but he instead wanted to let your beloved tell you himself. Above all else, the marquis wants his daughter to be happy. You should’ve consulted your father in the first place, rather than resorting to all this.”

Stella’s shoulders trembled for a moment, but then a stream of tears flowed from her azure eyes, and she bowed her head deeply. “Lord Claudio, thank you so much. …And Lady Ophelia… I’m sorry for everything.”

Ophelia nodded her acknowledgment of the apology Stella delivered in a shaking voice. Ophelia’s arms and legs were still, but her heart trembled with an intense heat.

When Stella had previously asked about Ophelia’s mother, who’d left the nobility to become a commoner, it must’ve been because she was considering a similar path. Would it be possible to live happily, even if it meant giving up one’s life as an aristocrat to live as a peasant, as long as you could be with the person you love? She must’ve been wondering about that.

Ophelia’s eyes dropped to her own hands, which had ceased shaking by this point.

However, I can’t believe it turned out like this…

“I can’t believe… that the director got dumped…”

“Huh?!”

“Lady Ophelia?!”

“Ophie! What are you saying?!”

Ophelia frantically slapped her hands over her mouth, but it was already too late.

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“AW, man! I lost the chance to join forces with Lady Meucci, and my date with Ophie was ruined! Nothing goes to plan when Claudio’s involved. I’m going home!”

In the end, Gian left in a huff. Stella apologized profusely to Ophelia again, then headed home herself, accompanied by a maid and a guard who’d been waiting for her just outside the café.

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“OPHELIA, I’m so glad you came with me. Oh, is that too heavy? I’ll carry it for you.”

“No! It’s fine. A-And, besides, your hands are already full, Mr. Angelo.”

“I always end up carrying much more than this when I come with the director.”

Ophelia and Angelo had gone to a used book shop in the downtown area of the Royal City to gather reference materials. While Ophelia was listening to the friendly old shopkeeper prattle away, Angelo picked out the books, and they ended up making a very large purchase.

“That old man loves to talk, but his shop doesn’t get much business, so he’s a bit lonely. I always have a hard time getting out of there because he talks my ear off, but he has the best books in town. I’m really glad you came along today to keep him company for me!”

For some reason, Ophelia still hadn’t been transferred back to the Architectural Institute. It was fun spending her days doing little errands like this, surrounded by coworkers she felt comfortable with, so honestly, she wasn’t in a huge hurry to leave.

Bernard, who’d been down for a while after she was first transferred to the Ministry of Justice, also finally adjusted to working by himself and had stopped complaining. From what she heard, he still maintained the top spot in the rankings for number of repairs, so in a way, Ophelia felt that there wasn’t really a place for her to return to.

“I’ll bring the books to my office, so you can go ahead and return to the Director’s Office on your own. Put those books all on top of this stack.”

“Wh-Wh-Whoa! It looks like they’re going to fall! Are you sure you’re okay carrying them all by yourself?!”

From somewhere behind the stack of books obscuring his face, Angelo’s muffled voice could be heard calling out “I’m fine!” as he tottered down a long dark hallway toward his office. As a scholar, Angelo had been assigned a small private office for his studies, where he stored most of his reference materials. It seemed he planned to go through the books they’d purchased today and bring only those with relevant content over to the Director’s Office later. Bruno had strongly advised Ophelia that she was better off not seeing the inside of Angelo’s office. Ophelia had a feeling she knew what he meant by that and was content to comply.

“Oh, Ophelia. You’re back already?”

Ophelia turned and found Claudio walking down the hallway toward her. Judging by his overcoat, it seemed he’d gone out as well.

“Yes, I just got back from visiting the used bookstore with Angelo.”

“Oh, the one run by that chatty old man?”

Had the shopkeeper even tried his luck with the king sourpuss himself?! Claudio had an unexpectedly kind side to him, so he’d probably listened to the shopkeeper’s stories patiently.

After the encounter at the café, news of the dissolution of Claudio and Stella’s engagement was publicly announced. Although the king had permitted the dissolution, apparently, he’d been quite disappointed. He seemed to be worried about his younger brother, who was still single long past the age most noblemen married.

Although by all appearances the dissolution of their engagement had been fairly harmonious, a rumor was going around that Stella had thrown in the towel because she couldn’t bear Claudio’s tyranny any longer. Even now, those they passed by as they walked down the hall, side-by-side like this, cast Ophelia worried glances, as if expecting Claudio to start shouting at her at any moment.

However, Claudio didn’t make any attempt to refute these rumors. His face may be perpetually frowning, but to Ophelia, his shoulders, upon which he silently bore all the consequences by himself, seemed sturdy and reliable.

“Ophelia.”

“Yes?”

Claudio, walking along at her side, suddenly called Ophelia’s name. However, the rest of the sentence did not seem to be forthcoming.

“Director?”

“…”

“Hm?”

“All of the servants in my home have been stringently vetted, and I was very careful only to hire people who don’t lie or use flattery,” Claudio said.

“…I see. That’s nice.”

“Yeah. They might not seem like the friendliest bunch, but I’m sure you could be around all of them without having to worry about shaking.”

“Hm? …You might be right about that. We can’t keep many servants around because of my condition, so I do most of the cleaning and washing myself on my days off. I’m jealous you found so many servants who don’t lie.”

“…I am right about that. So, then, you’d like to live like that?”

“Yes! The life of a duke really is different from us lower nobility!”

“…Seriously? You really don’t get what I’m trying to say, do you?”

“…? No, I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

“I see! Hahaha!”

“Yes! Hahaha!”

Of course, she won’t realize you’re trying to propose if you phrase it like that! Hidden behind a pillar that Claudio and Ophelia had walked past while laughing strangely, Bruno clutched his head in frustration at the conversation he’d just overheard.

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“LADY Narve, you seem to be in a good mood today.”

Samael, who was working uncommonly seriously, looked up from his paperwork. Ophelia turned from where she was returning a book to its spot in the bookcase and flashed a bright smile.

“Yes! Tonight I’ll be going to stay over at Lord Gian’s house for the first time in a while!”

The temperature in the Director’s Office suddenly dropped by at least 10 degrees. Angelo shivered and rubbed his hands up and down his arms. Totally oblivious, Ophelia hummed a happy little tune and returned to shelving books.

She hadn’t seen much of Gian since he said they should just stay friends after how things went on their last date, and he’d stopped sending flowers. Ophelia had mixed feelings about that. On one hand, it was a bit of a relief not to worry about being courted by a dear friend, but on the other, she couldn’t help feeling a bit sad.

Then, just yesterday, Gian had contacted her, saying he’d just gotten a new board game from overseas and inviting her to stay over so they could stay up late playing it together. Those words had instantly blown away the fog that seemed to have settled over Ophelia recently. It also served as the impetus for her to finally realize her own feelings.

“Ophelia, could you actually be considering… M-Marrying Duke Vigatto?”

“Angelo, you idiot! You can’t ask something like that here!” Bruno cried, frantically slapping a hand over Angelo’s mouth. Claudio had been sitting at his desk, absorbed in reading some paperwork or other for ages now, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t hear what they were saying.

Ophelia turned to Angelo with a look of genuine surprise. “Marry Lord Gian? I’m afraid not. After discussing it, we’ve decided to just be very good friends who understand one another. He’s a bit pushy, but we get along well because we enjoy the same kinds of foods and books and so on.”

Ophelia’s older brother was attentive to the point of being meddlesome, but she’d always wanted an older sister to enjoy doing various things with. That feeling had become clearer to her in the time they’d spent apart. She felt the same way about Gian as she did about her brother after they stopped working together.

That was what Ophelia had realized—that she considered Gian, or rather Julietta, as something like an older sister and she’d had a heart-to-heart about her feelings with Gian that led to them deciding to remain friends.

The temperature in the Director’s Office returned to normal as suddenly as it had dropped. Claudio’s gaze flicked in Ophelia’s direction, and their eyes met.

“Um, Director… About my transfer request…”

Claudio’s shoulders jerked in surprise. “O-Oh, yeah, that… I’ve been busy and haven’t gotten around to it.”

“Eep?!”

Without warning, Ophelia’s knees suddenly folded. She lost her balance and tumbled against a nearby desk, where she managed to catch herself with her left hand. Claudio made a face that seemed to say,“Oh, crap!” and Samael pointedly averted his gaze. Their behavior confirmed her suspicion that Claudio had lied, leaving Ophelia flabbergasted.

No way, the director told a lie?!

Seeing Ophelia with her mouth hanging open, frozen in shock, Claudio abruptly stood.

“No, um… These guys are still saying that we need the extra help, so…”

Ophelia stumbled again, and the hand she swiped out instinctively to grab onto the bookshelf met nothing but thin air. Claudio darted forward to grab her hand and brought his other arm around behind her back to catch her before she could fall over.

Angelo, seeing the two of them practically hugging and staring deep into one another’s eyes, unintentionally let out a wolf whistle.

“…”

“D-Director…?”

“No, I… I actually lost your transfer request…”

Claudio reflexively held Ophelia tighter as she shook in his arms, unwittingly bringing their faces even closer together. Bruno held his breath and wrung his hands anxiously.

As if he couldn’t stand the fragile silence that had fallen heavily over the room, Samael pointedly stretched his back, arms raised over his head, then rose from his chair. “Oh man, I’m starving! Bruno, Angelo, let’s have lunch in the cafeteria!”

“Thank you for the invitation, Assistant Director. I believe I’ll join you,” Bruno said without delay.

“Whaaat, but things are just getting good!”

“Idiot! Read the room, will you?!”

Samael exited the office first, dragging Angelo along behind him. Bruno followed the others, but before closing the door behind him, he turned to face Claudio.

“Director… For someone who doesn’t lie, you aren’t very honest with yourself, are you?”

The door shut with a firm click, and Claudio clicked his tongue irritably. After a long moment frozen in shock, Ophelia blushed bright red and hurried to extricate herself from Claudio’s arms, blinking repeatedly.

“So, Director… Um, about my transfer request…”

“Huh? O-Oh, yeah… I had every intention of getting around to it, but…”

Ophelia was standing on her own at this point, but she again lost her balance, and Claudio had to grab her arm to steady her.

“Well, I don’t really care either way, but…”

Ophelia’s hand trembled in his grip, causing Claudio’s mouth to twist with displeasure.

“…”

“…Director?”

“…”

Claudio, who’d fallen sullenly silent, covered his eyes with his free hand. What Ophelia could see of his lapis lazuli eyes peeking through the spaces between his fingers almost seemed to be glowing with a faint light radiating from within.

“Um, Director… About the transfer request, I want to resci—”

“Ophelia.”

“Y-Y-Yes?!”

“…You don’t have to go back.”

“…What?”

“You should stay here… Stay with me… From now on…”

After a moment of stunned silence, Ophelia gasped and looked down at her arms and legs.

They weren’t shaking even the tiniest bit.

Which could only mean… These were Claudio’s true feelings, at last.

The moment she realized it, Ophelia’s face started to burn.

“…Yes. I’ll stay, just like this, from now on.”

Ophelia nodded, her cheeks bright red, and the hand that had been covering Claudio’s eyes slipped down his face. He blinked once, slowly, and let go of Ophelia’s hand.

“This time, did you properly understand what I was trying to say?”

“Yes, I understand.” Still blushing, Ophelia straightened her posture, coming to attention. “I promise to work hard to fulfill my duties here in the Director’s Office!”

“Huh?”

“I’ll try to find ways to be useful outside of investigations as well!”

“Huuh?”

“I’ll do my best to improve my skills so I can always work for you here, Director!”

“You really didn’t understand what I was trying to say after all…”

Deep wrinkles were chiseled between Claudio’s brows as he growled that. She wasn’t sure what, exactly, but it seemed that she misunderstood something. Perplexed and flustered, Ophelia turned and walked toward the door, even as Claudio strode after her. Her hand fell on the doorknob, and without turning, she shouted, “I-I’m going to go join everyone for lunch…!”

“You brought a packed lunch, didn’t you?”

In stark contrast to his quiet words, the sound of Claudio’s fist hitting the office door above her head echoed loudly through the empty room.

Return of the terrifying wall slam!

Stiff with fear, Ophelia reflexively turned to face Claudio, and when she found herself face-to-face with him in close proximity, her shoulders curled forward, and she froze in place.

Feeling as if she were awaiting the announcement sentencing her to death, Ophelia couldn’t even breathe, focused entirely as she was on the words that would come next. However, Claudio spoke in a gentle tone she’d never heard him use before.

“Ophelia.”

She’d never realized that her own, familiar name could sound so wonderful.

With each second that passed, the strength seemed to seep out of her body until the majority of her weight was pressed against the door behind her.

“Ophelia, I…”

Each word he rasped in a low voice just beside her ear sent her heart racing a little bit faster until she was genuinely worried it might beat right out of her chest. Then, out of nowhere, a shudder ran through her body. With matching gasps, the two of them turned to find six familiar eyes peeking in at them through the crack in the just-barely-open door.

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WHAT was the director trying to say?

Thinking back on the encounter, Ophelia could feel a blush break out across her cheeks, and she squeezed the broom in her hands tightly, clutching it to her chest.

Ophelia was cleaning the interrogation room by herself again today. The Ministry of Justice employed professional cleaners to keep the entire building spick and span, so there wasn’t any dust to speak of, but since Ophelia didn’t possess any special skills, the only tasks for her to occupy her time on days there weren’t any interrogations were cleaning and tidying up.

Each of the other Director’s Office team members was busy with their work. Ophelia had wanted to begin studying so she could help them out a bit more, but Bruno had stopped her. He said it was best if she could focus solely on the accused, without any extraneous knowledge that might influence how she perceived them.

And so, Ophelia continued working in the Director’s Office as a complete amateur.

Things had been pretty peaceful recently, and there were hardly any interrogations. Left to her own devices with far too much free time on her hands, Ophelia inevitably found herself daydreaming.

“Sigh. I want to see Lord Gian…”

She wanted to hang out with Gian, eat snacks, and forget about everything. She wanted to gab about the latest trendy novels and play cards late into the night until they fell asleep.

Ophelia sank into a nearby chair and put her head down on the table. With her vision obscured, Claudio’s image rose behind her closed eyelids. Previously, she’d always been able to stop herself from thinking too deeply about it by reminding herself that he had a fiancée, but she couldn’t use that excuse anymore.

Claudio was the king’s brother and a duke. But he wore the same standard-issue uniform as everyone else and ate in the same cafeteria. He read through all the paperwork that crossed his desk properly and signed everything requiring a signature with his own hand. At the end of every month, his desk was piled high with reports from all the divisions under his jurisdiction, and he worked late every night to get it all done. The fact that he worked so hard without using his status to his advantage earned him a lot of respect within the ministry.

Spending time around him and interacting with him daily had lulled her into a sense of being almost equals, but seeing arrogant nobles who looked down on Bruno and the others fall all over themselves to bow and scrape before Claudio drove home the massive difference in social status.

Ophelia was just the plain daughter of a simple earldom where all members of the family worked for a living; there was no way she could ever stand proudly by Claudio’s side. She would just have to stop this feeling at “admiration” and shove it down somewhere deep inside.

Although this was the same conclusion she always came to, for some reason… Ophelia’s heart felt especially heavy, full of feelings she couldn’t act on.

Ophelia thought the table shifted ever so slightly, and when she raised her head to check, her gaze immediately landed on the same strawberry-blond hair that had just been in her mind’s eye. She was so startled that she fell right out of her chair, causing Claudio, who was sitting across the table, to look at her incredulously.

“I didn’t say anything, never mind lie. This one’s not on me.”

“D-Director! How long have you been sitting there?”

“Since around the point where you said you wanted to see Gian.”

“Eep!”

Claudio didn’t forbid Ophelia from seeing Gian, but he always got especially grumpy when the topic arose. Ophelia frantically searched her head for something to say to change the topic. But she couldn’t think of anything.

“We’re going out. Come on.” After Claudio, who’d been observing Ophelia with narrowed eyes, said that, he turned and began walking away.

“Huh? O-Okay!”

Scrambling to put together an appropriate response to Claudio’s sudden announcement, Ophelia did as she always seemed to be doing and hurried after him.

🌷 🌷 🌷

WITH Claudio rushing her the entire way, Ophelia leapt into the waiting carriage. Apparently, they would be visiting a location where one went to listen to the highest members of noble society speak. As a living lie detector, all Ophelia needed to do was simply stand there and listen, so she didn’t have to bring anything with her, but she still felt a bit uneasy going empty-handed. She wished she’d at least had time to retrieve her trusty bag from her desk.

“We’re not going far, so you don’t need anything.”

“How did you know what I was thinking?”

“Everything you’re thinking always shows on your face; anyone could’ve figured it out.”

Claudio crossed his legs, almost as if attempting to fold himself up to fit inside the narrow carriage, and he suddenly turned his head to gaze out the window. Ophelia followed suit, and after a moment, she realized that the scenery outside wasn’t moving at all. They’d climbed into the carriage in such a rush, but it still hadn’t departed.

“I wonder what the problem is; we haven’t left yet…” she noted.

“No, not yet. We’re going to… stay like this for a bit longer.”

Ophelia looked up at Claudio, who was being uncharacteristically cagey, with a curious expression.

“This is the only place we can be alone.”

Those words from Claudio, whose beautiful face she could only see half of from this angle, made Ophelia suddenly uneasy. She reached out for the carriage door, but Claudio moved faster, his hand darting out to lock the door.

“I finally understand just how sheltered you really are, so I wanted to take my time and let things progress naturally, but the situation has changed. Well, and there’s also Bruno prodding me in the arse.”

“Huh?! L-Lord Bruno struck you?! O-On your… posterior?!”

“No! You really are an idiot…”

“Unnh…”

Ophelia was shocked for a moment by the fact that her body didn’t shake, but then her eyebrows drew together, and her eyes teared up. Claudio’s eyes widened slightly, and his lips parted as he watched her.

At long last, Claudio had finally realized that he liked this expression of hers. If he were a normal man, it would probably be a woman’s enchanting smile or dainty deportment that would catch his interest and enflame his heart. But for Claudio, that kind of behavior from women only ever seemed like insincere fawning inspired by his position as a duke and brother of the king.

This expression of Ophelia’s represented something unique only to her: the juxtaposition between her tendency to run recklessly into danger and the weakness she didn’t bother trying to hide.

It wasn’t just the fact that her special ability made her unable to lie, but also this pure, genuine quality that she possessed, which Claudio was drawn to.

“Ophelia.”

“Sniffle.”

“Respond properly.”

“Y-Yes?!”

The corners of Claudio’s mouth drew up involuntarily at the way Ophelia reflexively straightened her spine as she responded. Inside the silent carriage, not disturbed by the sounds of horses’ hooves or tires creaking, Claudio’s quiet voice echoed loudly, seeming to delve deep into Ophelia’s ears with the next words he spoke.

“Ophelia, I find myself quite fond of you.”

“F-F-Fond…?”

“I’m saying that I like you.” Claudio reached out and grabbed Ophelia’s right hand, then raised it to the level of her eyes. “See for yourself, am I being sincere? You should know better than anyone.”

Ophelia stared at her hand, which seemed somehow traitorous in its lack of shaking, and her cheeks grew redder and redder. Her body swayed, and she felt like she might go boneless and slip right off the seat at any moment, but Claudio moved to sit directly beside her so he could support her body with his own.

“I submit for your consideration one proposal of marriage. Do you approve or reject this request?”

“Huh… M-Marriage…?!”

Ophelia was frozen in shock at the sudden and unexpected development, but when she noticed Claudio peering into her face from right beside her, she reflexively turned her head away.

“The difference in status is too great.”

When she finally squeezed her voice out, it came out sounding thin and weak, as if it might fade out at any moment.

“And if I told you to leave all that to me?” Claudio asked steadily, squeezing Ophelia’s hand gently in his. The fact that this hand wasn’t shaking at all proved that he was entirely serious.

But even so, a difference in status wasn’t something that could be overcome so easily… Wasn’t this exactly what she’d been agonizing over earlier herself?

“My family has nothing to offer the brother of the king.”

Claudio’s expression didn’t even flicker when Ophelia forced those words out. “I don’t need anything like that from you. All I want is for you to stay by my side.”

Ophelia’s heart was beating so wildly that she would’ve almost thought it was located in her ears for how loud it sounded. Claudio raised her hand once more in front of her face, as if reminding her of his sincerity, and all other thoughts fled from her mind. Her brain stopped processing, and her head was entirely full of Claudio.

Glossy pink hair fluttered across her blurry, unfocused field of view. “If you feel the same way about me, you can just nod your head.”

Ophelia could hardly see through the stars that swam in front of her eyes, but the persistent thought that she needed to burn this image of Claudio’s face into her memory for the rest of her life broke through her panicked state.

With her face bright red, Ophelia gave a single, emphatic nod, and in response, a brilliant smile broke out on Claudio’s face.

“Good job.”

After saying that, he lifted Ophelia’s hand to his lips and gave it a chaste kiss. Then, from the corner of her eye, Ophelia saw him raise his other arm past the side of her face. She gulped, wondering what more he planned to do, but when Claudio leaned forward, it was simply to knock on the wall of the carriage.

“To the Royal Residence, the Golden Lotus Gate.”

Those familiar words issued from Claudio’s mouth, and the carriage began to move, causing Ophelia to let out a strange squeal of surprise.

“Th-The Golden Lotus Gate?”

Wasn’t the Golden Lotus Gate the entrance reserved exclusively for the royal family’s use?

“It seems that my brother’s already begun searching for a new fiancée for me. I even heard he expanded the candidate pool to include noblewomen from other countries. I have to introduce you before that progresses into anything troublesome.”

“Please go by yourself! I’m still in my work uniform, and my hair is a mess…”

“What’s wrong with your work uniform? Anyway, it’s fine. You’re cute no matter what you’re wearing.”

Ophelia’s mouth flapped open and closed, but no sound came out. Was Claudio always the kind of person who said things like this?!

The carriage arrived at the Golden Lotus Gate in record time. Ophelia was still kicking up a fuss about not wanting to go, so just like last time, Claudio scooped her up and carried her under his arm as he strode through the Royal Residence in an uncommonly good mood.

As for Ophelia, her brain still hadn’t caught up.

After passing through the Golden Lotus Gate, Claudio hurried down the long hallway and headed straight for His Majesty’s study. This time, the guards reacted quickly and opened the doors before Claudio could kick them open, allowing them to enter the study without startling the king.

Still holding Ophelia under his arm, Claudio succinctly announced that he’d decided to marry her and then just as quickly turned to leave. The king chased after Claudio and forced the two of them to remain. Ophelia never in a million years would have guessed that she would one day witness a king doing something as undignified as running.

Ophelia had already given up trying to resist and was simply watching as if this were all happening to someone else and had nothing to do with her.

“Lady Narve, huh? Hmm, very well, then.”

Just like that, the king easily gave his approval for Claudio and Ophelia to marry. Ophelia had been counting on the king and his advisors and ministers, and the many other important people whose opinions mattered, to put a stop to Claudio’s outrageous idea.

It wasn’t as if everything would be fine just because the king had given his permission. Everyone had to be thinking that the daughter of a minor earl wasn’t good enough to marry into the Stolarni ducal house.

Ophelia’s memories from the remainder of that day were hazy at best.

When she returned home, her father made a face that seemed equal parts surprised and happy, and her brother ran down the hall shouting something.

🌷 🌷 🌷

THE next thing she knew, it was morning already, and Ophelia got ready and went to work as usual. The Ministry of Justice was as bustling as usual, and the women working in the other divisions whom she passed in the hall all greeted her normally.

Everything was just as it always was, except for the fog that just wouldn’t clear from Ophelia’s tangled feelings.

Because Claudio and Stella’s engagement had only just been dissolved, the decision was made to keep his new engagement with Ophelia private for the time being. It seemed they planned to announce the engagement publicly a year from now. That meant that Ophelia had been given one year’s reprieve.

What should I do? What should I do? Ophelia couldn’t figure out how to calm this anxiety that seemed to be fluttering around like a little bird trapped inside her chest.

Ophelia opened the door to the Director’s Office, feeling as if a heavy weight had settled on her shoulders, to find Samael sitting on the sofa, reading a book and basking in the sunlight streaming in through a nearby window. His cheerful greeting eased her nerves, but only a little.

Ophelia made her way over to the adjoining kitchenette and opened the door, intending to make coffee for Samael to drink in along with all that sunlight. But someone was already there, with two coffee cups set out in front of them.

“Lord Bruno, I’ll do that.”

“It’s fine. I made a lot, so there’s enough for you too.” Bruno peered thoughtfully into Ophelia’s face as he poured coffee into the mugs. “You don’t look very happy for someone who just accepted a proposal of marriage.” One corner of Bruno’s mouth cocked up teasingly as he smiled at her.

It’s Bruno’s fault in the first place that I’m so troubled! All of this only happened because he was rushing Claudio… Ophelia puffed out her cheeks to indicate her displeasure, causing Bruno to laugh out loud.

“Hahaha, it seems I’ve upset you.”

“That’s right! This is your fault, Lord Bruno.”

“My fault, you say?”

“This happened because of whatever you said to the director. Obviously, everyone’s going to be vehemently opposed to the daughter of a simple, powerless earl marrying the king’s brother. What are you going to do if the stress gives Father an ulcer?!” Ophelia’s cheeks puffed out even further after she finished her tirade.

“So that’s what you’re worried about?” Bruno’s smile never faltered as he continued, “Being the daughter of a ‘simple, powerless earl’ is part of what makes you perfect. Not for the Stolarni dukedom, but for Lord Claudio, brother to the king.”

Bruno offered a gentle, encouraging smile when he noticed Ophelia was tilting her head to the side in obvious confusion.

“Ever since the director was still the heir presumptive, he’s been trying to put as much distance between himself and the throne as possible. It wouldn’t make sense for him to poke a sleeping bear by allying himself with another powerful family at this point. Even the Meucci family, despite their high status, is almost entirely uninvolved in political affairs.”

That’s certainly true; an alliance with our family would do nothing to strengthen any efforts to put Claudio on the throne.

Ophelia blinked repeatedly as the realization settled over her. By marrying her, Claudio would be signaling to all of noble society that he had no interest in the throne whatsoever.

Ophelia knew that she could trust Bruno’s insightful assessment of the situation. The heavy cloud that had settled over her suddenly dispersed all at once, leaving her refreshed.

“Oh, your expression suddenly changed quite drastically.”

“B-But… I’m still not sure if someone like me is really suitable for the director…”

“In that case, what about marrying into a fellow earldom? I’d gladly welcome you into my family as my wife.”

“What?! I-I couldn’t possibly…”

For better or worse, Ophelia’s heart belonged to Claudio. There wasn’t anything left to give to Bruno. It would be horribly unfair to even consider marrying him under such circumstances.

“Ouch! You wound me with your immediate rejection!” Bruno chuckled, covering his ears with his hands teasingly. “But there you go, you have your answer, don’t you? So let’s face this head-on and all put our heads together to figure out what to do next. You can count on us.”

Ophelia pictured her coworkers’ faces in her mind. She knew she was fortunate to have such a formidable group of allies.

“…I didn’t refuse because the thought is repulsive. It’s because you are much too wonderful to be anyone’s second choice, Lord Bruno,” Ophelia said, placing the coffee mugs onto a tray to carry back into the office.

“I’m honored,” Bruno responded sincerely, all traces of his former teasing attitude gone… for a moment. Then he smirked again and remarked, “Well, we should probably get back. If I spend too long alone in here with you, I risk drawing the director’s ire. If I get kicked out of the Director’s Office, there really will be no place left for me to go.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ophelia scoffed, but a part of her knew that Bruno’s estimation of Claudio’s reaction wasn’t all that implausible.

When Angelo arrived, just moments from being late for work, Ophelia poured him a cup of coffee as well, then rested against the windowsill, both hands wrapped around her own hot cup as she gazed outside.

Ophelia had come here from the Architectural Institute at the furthest outskirts of the Royal Palace complex. It simultaneously felt like both very recently that she’d been working there and a lifetime ago. It was just as her mother had always said… Ophelia was now surrounded by people who understood and accepted her strange ability. People she could rely on and tell anything to. She was still anxious about what the future would bring, but somehow, she knew that as long as she had them, it would all work out.

The door opened with a soft click, and Claudio arrived for work with a broody frown marring his handsome face. He didn’t even bother with greetings.

“Ophelia, we’re going out.”

“O-Okay!”

Ophelia could only assume they were heading out to meet with someone troublesome. And since they were leaving before Claudio could even have his usual morning cup of coffee, she was willing to bet he’d be extra grumpy the entire time. Angelo waved goodbye to Ophelia with a sympathetic expression as she chased after Claudio.

🌷 🌷 🌷

THE carriage pulled up in front of the headquarters for a major company that controlled a large portion of the commercial market. Although he was technically a commoner, even aristocrats struggled to secure a meeting with the president of a company that paid an exorbitant amount in taxes every year. Apparently, that was why Claudio had been chosen for the job.

Claudio all but dragged Ophelia out of the carriage, and she found herself standing in front of a magnificent building on a major thoroughfare. As one might expect of such a large company, people were bustling about everywhere. The snippets of conversation that battered Ophelia from all sides caused her legs to shake faintly. When she was forced to leap out of the way to avoid a cart loaded so high with cargo that the person pushing it couldn’t see where they were going, Ophelia wobbled but didn’t entirely lose her balance. Just then, a hand slid up her back, and she heard Claudio say, “Here, hold on to me.”

Ophelia hesitated for a moment, looking dumbly at the arm Claudio offered her. Until now, this arm had been off-limits, but now she was permitted to hold it.

Ophelia reached out her hand hesitantly, and the next thing she knew, Claudio had grabbed her hand and tucked it forcefully into the crook of his arm. Gazing up at his face, which always reflected his true feelings, Ophelia felt her shaking slowly abate.

“It’s easier to walk like this, right?”

“Y-Yeah…”

Just as she said that, a violent shudder ran up Ophelia’s arm.

“…Oi.”

“Oh…”

Claudio stopped walking and glared down at Ophelia with one eyebrow raised. Because they were walking arm-in-arm, his face was closer than usual. “Does that mean you find it easier to walk holding on to my belt rather than my arm…?”

“N-N-No! Of course not! That’s preposterous!”

The more she protested, the harder her hands shook. But, but, but! His face is just too distracting this close-up!

If she were being honest, Ophelia liked his face too much for her own good. She looked up at him with tears gathering in her eyes, mentally preparing to be shouted at for getting this discombobulated before they even met the person they’d come here to see.

“There you go again, looking at me with those eyes…” With a soft sigh, Claudio released Ophelia’s hand. “Hold on wherever you like.”

Without hesitation, Ophelia reached for the belt of his jacket. Once he’d confirmed that Ophelia had calmed down, Claudio’s face twisted irritably.

For now, this is what feels most comfortable. I wonder if a day will come when I naturally reach for his arm without thinking anything of it…

Ophelia realized that her chest, which had previously been full of writhing anxiety, was now full of buoyant anticipation, and a smile bloomed across her face.

As for Claudio, well, those who spotted the couple in passing would’ve sworn that his perpetually brooding scowl softened just a little when he saw the happy expression on the face of the girl who walked half a step behind him.

After Story: A Bouquet of Happiness Just for You

After Story: A Bouquet of Happiness Just for You

THE Director’s Office’s private interrogation room was so quiet you could’ve heard crickets chirping. In other words, the world was relatively peaceful, and they didn’t have any major cases at the moment.

Even so, Ophelia cleaned the interrogation room regularly, so it was always ready to be used at a moment’s notice. When she was done with that, she sat in a chair and worked on some embroidery for a bit. If her coworkers caught her doing that, she worried they’d accuse her of slacking off on the job, but no one ever came to this room unless there was an interrogation. As a result, the Director’s Office’s private interrogation room had also started serving double duty as Ophelia’s private breakroom.

Ophelia sat in a chair in a shaded spot in front of the table, which dominated the center of the room, and carefully pierced the cloth with her needle. She’d been using this embroidery hoop since she was a child, so it felt familiar in her hands by this point.

Ophelia, who’d hardly had any friends and couldn’t go to school, had spent many days embroidering from morning until night. It wasn’t a hobby she’d taken up because she particularly enjoyed it, but after spending so many years doing it, she couldn’t deny that she’d gotten pretty good at it. The handkerchiefs she’d embroidered for the Director’s Office staff as parting gifts had turned out even better than she’d hoped.

If you think of the recipient while embroidering, your feelings will be conveyed to them.

With this in mind, Ophelia diligently sewed her heart into each and every stitch. It took much longer than moving her hands on autopilot would have, but the sense of achievement with the finished result was worth it.

“All right, it’s done!”

There weren’t any snags or strange wrinkles in the fabric. It was a job well done. Ophelia carefully folded the cloth and tucked it into the brown bag that contained her embroidery tools. Then she took out a small notebook.

Despite giving her pen free rein to run across the page, doodling everything that came to mind, Ophelia couldn’t come up with an embroidery design. She’d been worrying over it for a while now, but every idea she hit upon was quickly discarded. Nothing felt right. Ophelia set the pen down and braced her chin in both hands, elbows propped up on the table, then closed her eyes.

There was still half a year left until her engagement with Claudio would become official. Frankly, the whole idea still terrified her a bit, but with the support of those around her, she’d decided to try and make her peace with it. She had her family and her coworkers, and even Gian and Stella on her side. With such strong allies, she had a feeling that everything would work out somehow. But there was one thing that still bothered Ophelia…

She still hadn’t told Claudio her feelings yet.

Of course, she loved him, but whenever she was actually in front of him, looking up at his beautiful face, only nonsensical babble came out, so she couldn’t convey all that she wanted to.

Which was why she’d decided to express her feelings for Claudio through embroidery. If she couldn’t put it into words, she wanted to give him a present that she’d put her whole heart into. With how perceptive Claudio was, he would understand for sure.

Claudio had taken the day off work because he had to perform in his role as a duke. Ophelia thought that this would be the perfect chance to brainstorm without becoming flustered by his presence. And yet, although she sketched out every idea that came to her, none of them was quite what she was looking for. Before she knew it, sunlight had already encroached on more than half of the previously entirely shaded table. Ophelia quickly tossed the notebook into her bag and rushed out of the interrogation room.

🌷 🌷 🌷

“THANK you, Lady Narve. I’m sure my daughter will love it,” Samael said as he accepted the tablecloth with crinkled eyes and a goofy smile, an expression that usually indicated he was picturing his young daughter. Seeing that, Ophelia, too, smiled with relief.

“You can’t tell there was ever a stain, right?”

Bruno let out an impressed grunt as he peeked over at the tablecloth in Samael’s hands. On Samael’s other side, Angelo was also looking at the tablecloth with rapt interest.

“My daughter is depressed because she spilled soup on her favorite tablecloth and left a stain.”

It was only last week that Samael had said this, his shoulders drooping. Ophelia couldn’t stand seeing Samael, who treated her just like his own daughter, feeling so down. So she’d made a suggestion… She told him she could probably cover the stain up with embroidery and make it a bit less noticeable.

The stain was larger than she’d originally pictured, but she’d done her best to cover it with a pattern of vines with dark green leaves, small white birds, and a centerpiece of a round little owl. She’d found it a bit difficult to depict the white birds’ fluffy plumage, but she thought it had turned out cute, fitting for a young child.

“Did Bernie really draw this?” Angelo asked incredulously, reaching out toward the tablecloth. Samael shoved it behind his back to keep it away from Angelo.

“I didn’t realize Bernie was so talented.”

“Yes, I made the embroidery pattern based on Bernard’s sketch.”

Everyone had taken to calling Ophelia’s older brother Bernard “Bernie.” The white birds were a species that could often be spotted in the Narve family’s garden. As for the owl, it seemed Bernard had been inspired to sketch it after seeing one when a friend of his had dragged him along on a hunting trip.

“But you know, Bernie has a pretty impressive resume if you think about it. He’s the heir to an earldom with a long history, works at the Royal Palace, possesses a special ability, and has artistic talent.”

Bruno’s assessment left Ophelia tilting her head to the side dubiously. Certainly, her brother was unexpectedly multi-talented. However, his rather cowardly and passive personality overshadowed that, leading to him being unpopular with the ladies. Ophelia couldn’t help feeling that Bernard was quite pathetic.

“I owe you one, Lady Narve. Is there anything you can think of that you might like as a thank-you gift?”

“That’s not necessary! This was the least I could do after how well you’ve treated me.”

She was genuinely happy just to see how much he liked it. Watching Samael carefully fold up the tablecloth and put it in his bag filled her with a deep sense of satisfaction.

Maybe that was why Ophelia didn’t notice that her hands, still clutching the brown embroidery bag, were shaking faintly.

She’s hiding something in that brown bag.

Everyone other than Ophelia had the exact same thought. But no one was brazen enough to bring it u—

“Hmm? What are you hiding in your bag, Ophie?” Angelo asked, pointing to the bag in Ophelia’s hands. Her shoulders jerked in surprise, and she forced an awkward smile, which made her legs start shaking as well.

“Idiot! Let a lady have her secrets!” Samael cuffed Angelo on the side of the head, and Angelo gawked at his boss with an incredulous expression.

“But if we all notice and don’t say anything, Ophelia’s sure to find out, right? So it’s better to just be up front and ask, don’t you think?”

“I suppose you have a point …”

Bruno’s eyebrows drooped dejectedly, and he clutched his forehead with one hand, looking down. Realizing that she needed to do something quick to alleviate the dark mood that had settled over her coworkers, Ophelia quickly pulled the notebook out of her bag and flipped it open.

“U-Um, actually! There’s something I’ve been worrying about… And I’d really appreciate some advice, if you wouldn’t mind…” She should’ve known surprises were impossible for her. Ophelia gave in to the inevitable and came clean. “I’m bad at expressing myself with words, so I was thinking I’d like to embroider something for the director to show him I’m happy about our engagement, but I can’t decide on the perfect design!”

Ophelia, who’d already decided to rely on her coworkers when she needed help, explained the situation frankly without trying to conceal anything. She wasn’t capable of lying anyway, and they’d all promised to support her in any way they could when it came to her engagement with Claudio. So there was really no reason not to tap such an invaluable resource.

“You want to sew your pure-hearted feelings into a present for Claudio…? What a lucky dog…” Samael mimicked wiping away tears.

“Is it really okay for us to hear of this before the director himself?” Despite the way he fidgeted nervously, Bruno seemed secretly pleased about the notion.

“Wow! This is so exciting! I love hearing about love stories!”

Angelo eagerly waved his arm back and forth in a “pick me!” motion, then spun in a happy little circle. Ophelia couldn’t help laughing at how much he resembled a dog when he did that.

Fortunately, Claudio would be gone all day today. They brought their chairs over so they could congregate around Samael’s desk and think it over together.

“I think something aristocratic, like a long whip cracking over a backdrop of roses, would be nice!” Angelo said.

“There’s something fundamentally disturbed about your impression of the aristocracy.”

“Going with his family crest would be a safe bet.”

“Wouldn’t that be overstepping a bit, acting as if I’m already his wife?” Ophelia said.

“What about a white horse lifting its legs high as it gallops along at breakneck speed?”

“I think there’s already a brand that uses something like that as their logo…”

They all offered their opinions, but they still couldn’t come up with a usable idea. It was easy enough to think of things that the perpetually grumpy Claudio would hate, but nothing much immediately came to mind for things he might actually like. By the time the coffee in their cups had dwindled halfway, everyone had fallen silent.

“…Just do a picture of his face. Oh, with pretty pink flowers in his pretty pink hair!”

“Angelo, are you trying to start a fight between a harmonious couple?” Bruno bit out, his hands wrapped around his now-tepid mug of coffee. Then he turned to Samael and asked, “Don’t you have any insider information that only his milk brother would know?”

With everyone’s eyes fixed hopefully on him, Samael frantically searched his memory for anything that might prove useful. “…Oh! Come to think of it, back when he still lived in the Royal Palace, he used to grow lisianthus in the palace gardens. Maybe that’s his favorite flower?”

“Lisianthus… What color were they?”

When Ophelia asked this, Samael folded his arms and let out a long grunt. Then, after a moment, he muttered, “I can’t remember…”

Even so, a pattern of lisianthus flowers began spreading inside Ophelia’s head, the first seeds of a design beginning to take shape.

🌷 🌷 🌷

AS soon as Ophelia finished work for the day, she hurried over to the library. The Royal Palace Library stayed open late thanks to the librarians constantly working overtime. Ophelia quickly located an illustrated encyclopedia of plants and turned to the page on lisianthus. It took her a while to decide, but she finally settled on a bicolor variety with eight petals that were white at the base and bluish-purple along the edge of each petal. She thought it would be a satisfying challenge to get the color gradation for the petal accents just right.

Once she had the pattern, the rest was easy. Instead of knitting together pretty words, she sewed her feelings into a pretty design. She took her time with each and every stitch, pouring her heart into her work. As she embroidered, she imbued the stitches with a prayer that every time Claudio looked at this gift, it would ease his heart even just a bit, and that from now on, his life would bloom with vivid happiness.

🌷 🌷 🌷

“U-U-UM, th-this is… I did my very best to make it! I thought… It might serve as my response to all the kindness you’ve shown me, Director…”

They were in the not-so-spacious gardens of the Narve family’s manor, sitting together at an elegant table set that had been prepared for Claudio’s frequent visits to his fiancée on their days off. Ophelia handed Claudio the completed handkerchief, and as he examined the embroidery, a look of stunned… dismay? appeared on his face. Ophelia tilted her head curiously, first to one side and then the other, at his unexpected reaction.

“Are these flowers lisianthus?” Claudio muttered almost robotically, still staring at the embroidery.

“Yes. Um, Lord Samael said that it was your favorite flower… Was he mistaken? I’m sorry…”

When Ophelia’s shoulders dropped dejectedly, Claudio straightened, hurrying to assure her, “No, that’s not what I meant!”

Ophelia deeply considered the situation. Her body wasn’t shaking. It was undeniable that he wasn’t lying, but that didn’t necessarily mean this was his favorite flower, either. She’d been too naïve, assuming that he’d understand her intentions just by looking at the handkerchief.

I guess when it comes to things like this, you really have to just come out and say it, or the message won’t be received. Of course, I should have known…

Claudio poked one of Ophelia’s ashen cheeks, and when she raised her head, he was smiling gently, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “I don’t know what you’re thinking over there right now, but I know you worked hard to make this for me. Of course, I’m very happy to receive it. But more than that… It made me remember some nostalgic things from long ago.”

“Things from long ago…”

“Yeah. You heard from Samael that I used to grow these flowers in the palace gardens, right? That’s true, but… Well, it became unnecessary, and very shortly after that, I moved out of the Royal Residence. So it’s been a long time since I last saw these flowers.”

From what she could see of Claudio’s face in profile as he gazed down at the delicate embroidery, he seemed to be wearing a peaceful expression. Ophelia dredged up all of her courage to ask, “Were those… good memories, then?”

Claudio glanced over at Ophelia, and when he saw her looking up at him hopefully, he let out a little snort.

“Yes, of course.”

Ophelia’s body didn’t shake. That reassured her just a bit, and she gave a little nod.

🌷 🌷 🌷

IT was a weekend night, and Ophelia was lying on the bed in Duke Viagtto’s manor, recounting the entire chain of events to Gian.

“Lisianthus, huh?” As Gian muttered that, tears began rolling down his cheeks.

Ophelia surged into an upright position and frantically grabbed the bedsheet, which she used to wipe away Gian’s tears. Gian couldn’t help but bark out a surprised laugh at Ophelia’s irreverent resourcefulness.

“I guess it’s been a while since I last saw that flower, too. I might’ve been unconsciously avoiding it, now that I think about it, but… it sure is nostalgic.”

Ophelia was examining Gian’s face with a concerned expression on her own when suddenly she gasped. Then she reached for a cookie from a plate on the bed and held it out to Gian. This variety of cookie, which contained slivered nuts, was Ophelia’s favorite, and she offered Gian the very last one.

Gian pushed Ophelia’s hand away, steering the cookie back to Ophelia’s mouth. With a guilty little smile, Ophelia obediently munched on the cookie. Seeing that, Gian laughed again.

“Lisianthus was my brother’s favorite flower. Every time Claudio came to visit, he made sure to bring a bouquet of them. I didn’t realize that he was growing them himself in the Royal Palace’s gardens…”

The laughter had served to dry up Gian’s tears, and he lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. His faint smile and pinched eyes strongly resembled Claudio’s expression when he’d received her lisianthus-embroidered handkerchief. Although she’d never met him, Ophelia suspected that the real Gian had also smiled warmly like this when receiving Claudio’s sick-visit bouquets.

She couldn’t have imagined when she was embroidering that handkerchief that it would turn out like this. Thanks to the lisianthus that the real Gian had been so fond of, Ophelia was able to draw out unexpectedly peaceful smiles from both Gian and Claudio.

She was very happy about this, but even so, Ophelia puffed out her cheeks poutily and drew her knees up to her chest.

In the end, she hadn’t been able to convey her feelings to Claudio. Hand-embroidered gifts weren’t something you gave out willy-nilly for no reason, but Claudio hadn’t seemed to get the hint. It looked like she really would need to tell him with words to get the message across.

Gian often said that his younger brother had arranged for him and Ophelia to meet one another. If that was true, she was certainly grateful to the real Gian for introducing her to a person who’d become like a dear older sister to her, but this mishap with the lisianthus flowers seemed like more of a mischievous trick!

The Gian in front of her was in the process of happily setting up his newly acquired board game on top of the bed. He’d just been crying only a moment earlier, but like a little kid, his moods changed at the drop of a hat.

Ophelia expelled a little puff of air and, refreshed, turned her attention to the board game.

Ophelia had a family who would support her through anything. Coworkers she could count on. A friend who was both like a brother and a sister to her. And Claudio, who had vowed to face everything the future may bring at her side. Surrounded by people she loved, Ophelia thought that surely she must be the happiest person in the world.