Chapter 43

In the early dawn, long after the feast had ended.

Arndt had excitedly been writing down items to bring into the castle but went to bed, saying he was tired.

Leandros led his body, which had grown heavy from eating more than usual, and went on his usual external patrol.

There was certainly a sense of laxity due to having spent several days outside.

But even so, his reflexes had been too dulled recently.

It was the same when Arndt was surrounded.

He could have sent him back first and stepped forward himself.

Had his senses grown dull?

It wasn't like this when the Duchess was around.

He had been awake for most of the day, and after just a bit of shut-eye, he would stand guard in front of the bedroom.

He could immediately locate the source of even the tiniest sound.

Perhaps he had developed a sense of intimacy while living with Arenheit?

He couldn't help but sigh when he saw the new Duke treating his attendant and escort knight with no formality.

But at the same time, he couldn't deny that he felt closer to him than to the former Duchess.

Was it because he had watched him since childhood?

Or because Arenheit now seemed more like a normal person?

He wasn't sure, but now that they were back at the castle, he needed to collect himself again.

It was while Leandros was thinking this as he looked around the courtyard of the castle.

"...like."

A sound from somewhere.

Leandros discovered a figure holding onto a pillar in the corridor surrounding the courtyard.

It was Arenheit.

He had thought Arenheit would be sleeping by now, having gone up to his bedroom long ago.

Yet here he was, out in the courtyard.

Was he sick?

As Leandros approached, he noticed vomit spilled at Arenheit's feet.

It maintained its form, not having been digested at all, just as it had been chewed and swallowed.

Leandros covered the scene with dirt instead of the Duke who was standing awkwardly.

"Are you alright?"

"Ah. ...Ah, it's nothing. I must have indigestion. My stomach was feeling off."

"You should have said something if you felt like it was too much to eat."

"Arndt looked so excited."

A handkerchief. Where was his handkerchief?

Leandros fumbled through his pockets, then suddenly realized he hadn't carried a handkerchief since the Duchess's death.

In the end, he had no choice but to offer the edge of his cloak to Arenheit.

"...What's this?"

"Wipe it. Your mouth."

"I appreciate the thought, but that's somewhat unhygienic. To have you walking around wearing something with vomit on it?"

Is a mouth with vomit on it hygienic?

He wanted to ask this, but Arenheit was already wiping his mouth with his own sleeve.

As soon as morning comes, he would have to tell Arndt to change the Duke's indoor clothes.

With these thoughts, Leandros seated the Duke on a suitable flowerbed.

"Would you like to go inside?"

"No. Let's stay out a bit longer since we're already out."

The Duke looked particularly pale and gaunt.

Even to Leandros, the Duke didn't seem to be in good condition.

After a major illness, his food intake had drastically decreased, and he wasn't gaining any weight.

Yet he had managed to ride on horseback, cross mountains, and traverse the kingdom.

Was he human?

As Leandros scrutinized Arenheit's face, he detected subtly complex emotions.

"Are you not feeling well?"

"Does it show?"

"What did you discuss with Crown Prince Yurik?"

Arenheit fell silent.

Leandros willingly waited through that silence.

After quite some time had passed, Arenheit answered.

"It seems he has something he wants Hartmann to resolve. He told me to go to the south."

"Is it because of the revelation?"

"He seems to have known since the east. Whether it's hereditary or whatever, he knows that it came to me through my mother."

"Then Arndt..."

"Was bait."

Arenheit acknowledged his attendant as "bait" all too easily.

Leandros suggested.

"If you wish, you could eliminate Arndt."

"Huh? Why would I do that?"

"If he might become an obstacle, wouldn't it be better to do so?"

"An obstacle. An obstacle, you say."

Arenheit vigorously scratched his head.

In the process, his light-colored red hair, bleached with alcohol, became disheveled.

"He's not an obstacle. Arndt is just Arndt. It's the Crown Prince who thought of using people in that way."

"I was rash."

"Get along well with Arndt."

"I didn't suggest it because I dislike him."

"It's because you're rational. I already know."

Arenheit paused briefly, then continued.

"I'm not blaming you. I just want you two to get along well. Not simply because you're my attendant and knight, but because I want you to be happy."

"You're saying something difficult for this era."

"Is it difficult? It might be hard, but I don't think it's impossible. Think about when we first returned."

When they first came.

Leandros could vividly recall that time.

Arenheit was sick, there was nothing in the castle, and practical problems approached too quickly to dwell on heartbreak over what had broken down and fled.

There wasn't even time to indulge in contemplation; they had to worry about what to eat the next day.

"The situation has certainly improved, but..."

"Yes."

"It seems your thoughts haven't changed."

What difference did it make to have obtained a little gold and had a good meal?

Yurik was still alive and had even brazenly visited the castle.

With Arndt's lifeline in his hand.

Arenheit looked at him with dark brown eyes.

"If it could be changed with just this, I wouldn't have even tried. One of us, either Yurik or me, will have to die for the other to survive."

"Can you do it?"

"That's why I asked for your help. And you swore."

Leandros recalled the scene where Arenheit had blocked Arndt's path.

And he also remembered the Arenheit he had personally pushed down into a cave filled with corpses.

Those two were different.

He had that feeling, despite having no evidence.

A being he had found repulsive was gradually capturing his attention.

A being with a repugnant instinct devoid of a soul had, at some point, begun moving with a will.

It didn't matter what name was attached to his will—vengeance for his parents, honor, anything.

-You will follow that child, Leandros. You will worship him just as you worship me now. The reason you love me might be...

How far had the Duchess anticipated?

Leandros lowered his eyes.

"Use me as your sword. I will stay by your side, Your Grace, until everything is over."

As he said this, Leandros dared to think thoughts he couldn't fully express.

He wouldn't be satisfied even when Yurik's corpse was rolling at Arenheit's feet.

If the future his Duke was looking at extended to a very distant time...

The night sky, the same as in the east, was spread out above the two of them.

A red star shone above Arenheit's head.

* * *

"Therefore, I will clean before departing for the south."

"Did Your Grace just say cleaning?"

"Even if we're going, we should do what needs to be done."

He shared the conversation he had with Leandros the night before with Arndt, who had just woken up in the morning.

While Arndt seemed to have expected it, his mood inevitably dropped.

To prevent Arndt from falling into depression, he suggested cleaning the castle.

Until now, though he hadn't specifically mentioned it, the castle was quite dirty.

If asked how dirty, the truth was to the extent that all the mocking words he had said before receiving Baron Arnold and Yurik were absolutely true.

No matter how versatile Arndt was in housework, he couldn't cover the entire vast castle.

Arndt was just one person after all.

Currently, the areas being most carefully managed were the kitchen, his bedroom, and the places where the two of them slept.

Beyond that, cleaning was difficult.

Even so, it was too much to live in a castle where dust and dirt were flying around.

"Let's focus on the areas where we sleep or frequently pass through. Try not to go up the tower if possible. We don't visit there anyway, right?"

"What about the reception room and hall?"

"Clean the reception room. The hall, we just won't enter from now on."

"What about the chapel, perhaps?"

"Was there such a... No, no. I'll check that out later."

"I have a question. Will Your Grace also participate?"

"If I don't do it, who will? I'll take care of my parents' study and office..."

He had responded to Leandros's words without much thought, but then he felt the atmosphere around him grow awkward.

When he looked up, Arndt and Leandros were staring at him intently, as if asking if he was serious.

"What?"

"Could it be that Your Grace has too much energy? Sir Leandros, did he perhaps train his body while I was gone?"

"That's impossible. He's someone who gets out of breath even when walking quickly."

"Oh my goodness! That's really severe! You only drank water for breakfast too, saying your stomach wasn't feeling well? If it were me, I wouldn't be able to move a finger in bed!"

"I agree."

What was with these comic relief comments?

The two of them picked him up and forcibly escorted him away.

"Why! I said I'll do it too! Do you think you two can clean it all by yourselves!?"

"Your Grace helping means staying still."

"Where is there such a thing!"

Rebellion! Slander!

He was confined to his bedroom like an imprisoned royal.

With the instruction that he shouldn't come out until the dust settled after cleaning.

The two were satisfied seeing him obediently lying on the bed and left.

But exactly 10 minutes later.

He was in the former Duchess's study.

It was a bit wrong to have come here ignoring their advice, but what could he do?

He was busy with various things to survive too.

Around his neck hung a necklace he had taken from a servant.

A necklace that reached down to his chest when he wore it.

If it was this long on him, how long would it have been when Amelia or the Duchess wore it?

He fiddled with the elongated black stone attached to the end.

Since it had belonged to the Duchess, he had taken it, but what was it used for?

Amelia had said she received it from the Duchess, so she must have known something.

But when he arrived, Amelia was already dead.

If only he hadn't left Amelia alone, perhaps...

No. That wasn't it, he thought.

This had been determined from the moment Yurik planted someone and from the moment he visited the mansion.

Amelia, who had contacted him in any way, would most likely have died.

He shouldn't fall into foolish sentimentality.

He organized his thoughts one by one.

Amelia had once been the Duchess's dedicated maid.

There must have been a reason why the Duchess entrusted this object to her dedicated maid.

It was highly likely to be connected to a place where only the dedicated maid and herself had the right to enter.

Considering this, there weren't many candidates.

The bedroom, the bathroom, and finally, the dedicated study.

The Duchess's study was very spacious.

It felt just like entering the Duke's study.

If not for the vibrant decorations carved into the wall, he might have mistaken it for the Duke's study.

As he slowly looked around and took a step, torn pages rustled under his feet.

A large, empty bookcase that once housed hundreds of books.

Elegant broken lamps standing near the bookcase.

A mysterious animal specimen of unknown name nailed to the wall.

A large wooden writing desk, slightly damaged.

Empty decorative stands and glass display cases, the contents of which were unknown.

A study shows the position one occupies in a family.

He couldn't guess how important a space the study had been for the Duchess.

Still, feeling an inexplicable sense of familiarity, he examined every corner for a long time.

A sense of déjà vu, as if he had been here many times.

The sensation called déjà vu.

Was it from Arenheit, the original owner of this body, or purely a feeling he experienced?

After going around the study once, there was nothing special.

Then, he noticed a dusty velvet curtain covering the wall.

Because of its dark color, he hadn't realized, but a massive frame hidden behind the curtain was slightly visible.

When he pulled back the heavy curtain, a large, terribly damaged painting was hanging there.

A painting that covered an entire wall.

The canvas was torn to shreds, making it impossible to tell what the original painting had been.

At a glance, perhaps it was a background painting with many people in it.

Countless people had gathered around something in the center.

Looking at the remnants of the painting, it began to feel increasingly strange.

A feeling like witnessing something that shouldn't be seen.

An intensity that made him want to turn his head away immediately, yet simultaneously held his gaze, making it impossible to look away.

Sacrilege, yet at the same time, an instinctive curiosity to find out what it was.

The dim light entering through the window slanted across the painting.

Looking at the light, he reached out his hand and felt the surface of the painting.

A surface that should be flat had a depression in one part, creating a shadow.

The painting near the depression depicted figures like people playing flutes or angels arranged in formation.

That concave spot somehow felt familiar to his hand.

Unconsciously, he picked up the stone piece hanging around his neck.

When he pushed the stone piece into that part, it fit perfectly like a puzzle piece.

-Click.

Click?

There was a locking sound.

He looked around, but nothing happened.

He felt there should be some change. Was he wrong?

He stayed like that for a moment, then removed the stone piece and tried inserting it again.

-Click.

This time, the sound was clearly different.

But looking around the room, he couldn't notice anything that had changed.

Was there a trick he couldn't perceive?

Just as he was about to give up and turn back, he noticed that the painting had changed slightly.

A large, old door in the corner of the painting, serving as background.

When he first pushed in the piece, it had been closed, but now it was open.

As if enchanted, he reached out toward the painting.

When he applied force as if to a normal door, the door in the painting moved, creating a path.

A space gaping black.

Beyond the painting, there existed stairs that he could step on.

Before he could admire the ingenious locking mechanism, a troubling thought occurred to him.

He had tried twice.

Why did the door open only now?

Had the door been open the first time?

This key was entrusted to Amelia before the Duchess died.

Since Amelia wouldn't have come to the castle, the door that should have remained locked all this time...

Someone had recently entered the Duchess's room.

And understood this mechanism and opened it.

"Leandros! Is anyone there? Come here for a moment!"

As for who that bastard was,

It was obvious without even trying to guess.