Entering her room, Beatrice threw herself straight onto the bed.
“…Ugh!”
She hadn’t even done anything, yet she was exhausted.
The conversation from a moment ago kept circling inside Beatrice’s head as she lay there.
‘A shock is still a shock.’
To think that was how it ended in the end. And to think Valoa Crawford took her body like that!
‘By the way, if it was a gift-wrapped ending, then they didn’t even hold a proper funeral in the end.’
It was truly petty and vicious beyond measure.
Whether for ambition or whatever else, if they killed an innocent person just as they pleased, they should have at least sent her off properly.
Living recklessly like that is why they get tangled up in something as absurd as regression.
It was receiving payback from those who died unfairly.
‘Well, even if she feels wronged claiming it wasn’t her doing, there’s nothing to be done about it.’
Because the Beatrice of back then had been wronged too.
‘Ah, and honestly, the current Elodie hardly has the right to feel wronged either.’
Recalling how she had used Valoa to induce a commotion at the wedding, a wave of disgust washed over her.
‘Besides, even now that we’ve cleared Valoa away, Elodie is….’
Wait.
Following her train of thought that far, Beatrice bolted upright from the bed.
“Ah, that’s right. Valoa!”
With so many events crashing down in succession lately, she had momentarily forgotten, but Valoa was deeply entangled in this matter as well.
After all, the very reason she had been thrown into a cell was because she took the blame for what Valoa Crawford had done!
‘…Still, thinking about it again, it makes no sense?’
No matter how much she racked her brain, Valoa’s intentions were entirely unreadable.
‘Back then, I only knew fragments of the situation, so I thought she was trying to increase the damage to the Marquisate by destroying the decoy dolls, but….’
Thinking about it now, her actions were closer to helping the Marquisate instead.
Of course, whether Valoa destroyed the dolls knowing the truth or simply caught a rat while stepping backward was anyone’s guess.
‘Honestly, I think it’s the latter, but anyway.’
To uncover the truth, she needed to observe the Crawford father and daughter closely.
A lot would change depending on whether Archduke Alec was a good person or not, and observing Valoa’s movements would reveal clues about her intentions and the forces behind her.
‘With Cassian’s offer on the table, observing Valoa while investigating the illness of unknown cause won’t be difficult.’
Only….
‘…Clyde doesn’t know yet that the ruffian I encountered was Valoa.’
In truth, telling Clyde about her wasn’t a difficult task.
It wasn’t as if she had tried to hide it on purpose, and her identity was exposed now anyway.
Under normal circumstances, she would have handed over the information the moment it crossed her mind and told him to figure it out.
If only she hadn’t heard what he said earlier.
‘Ugh….’
Recalling the sensation she had felt near her neck, Beatrice squeezed her eyes shut.
‘How am I supposed to tell him this…? No, what could I even say in the first place?’
Hey, I forgot to mention it, but I actually ran into that Valoa Crawford who nicely packaged me up with ribbons. But she’s acting really weird, you know? So I’m going to accept Cassian’s offer, run around in the field, and hover around her while I’m at it—what, like this?
‘As if he’d ever understand!’
Even if she were Clyde, she would have flown into a rage on the spot, exploding with fury over whether she had lost her mind.
Beatrice, repeatedly kicking into empty air out of frustration, clutched her head and let out a long sigh.
“Still, I have to tell him somehow….”
From the moment Clyde laid bare the wound that had not yet healed before her eyes, keeping it a secret was an option that didn’t exist from the start.
As Beatrice glared at the innocent ceiling and agonized for a long time, the words Clyde had spoken suddenly flashed across her mind.
‘You always say you’re lacking because you weren’t properly educated, but you know. Uncle Jedaric didn’t teach you half-heartedly.’
‘My ability….’
The thoughts that had been thoroughly blocked burst open and connected in that instant. Beatrice’s light green eyes sparkled.
“Maybe.”
Muttering a brief whisper to herself, Beatrice sprang up from the bed as if bouncing.
Snatching the shawl draped haphazardly to one side and throwing it on, she grabbed the glasses resting on the desk, slipped them on, and sprinted out like an arrow.
Etiquette or whatever, the place she dashed to franticly was none other than Cassian’s office.
—Knock, knock
“Come in.”
At the permission heard from inside, Beatrice threw the door open. She had not even caught her breath yet.
“…Lady Kruger?”
“Haah, gasp, hello, Cassian, um, sorry for the late hour……”
“Ah, not at all. Please, come this way. I do not know what the matter is, but it would be best for you to catch your breath for a moment while drinking some water.”
“Uh, no… phew, I’m really fine! Um, actually, I came because I have a favor to ask.”
“A favor?”
“Yes.”
Looking at Cassian’s expression, which showed he had no inkling whatsoever, Beatrice nodded vigorously.
“If there happens to be a workshop in the Marquisate, could I borrow it for a bit?”
“If it’s a workshop…”
“Ah, even a smithy that makes weapons is fine! Wherever it is, as long as it’s a place where I can handle fire, potions, and metal, it’ll do!”
Pouring out her words to Cassian without a single hesitation, Beatrice suddenly pulled a face that said ‘oops.’
“Um, and also…”
Rolling her eyes briefly as if embarrassed, she cautiously added words.
“If possible, I would also like to borrow some materials. Of course, I will pay the cost!”
At Beatrice’s resounding voice, Cassian’s silver-gray eyes widened slightly.
Remaining silent for a moment as if mulling over her request, he eventually gave a light shake of his head.
“I cannot accept payment from a guest staying to help the House of Downer. Follow me. I will guide you.”
At his prompt permission without even asking for a reason, Beatrice’s face brightened.
“Really? Thank you!”
Giving Cassian her thanks with an unclouded face, Beatrice rapidly racked her brain.
Because the materials available for use in the Marquisate were likely far more limited than in her father’s workshop.
And because she was so lost in her own world, Beatrice failed to notice that Cassian had, if only for a fleeting moment, been captivated by her smile.
* * *
At the same time.
Clyde, who had parted from Beatrice as if fleeing, was leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed.
“…I ended up telling her after all.”
He hadn’t intended to lay his emotions so completely bare when he spoke.
If possible, he had wanted to tell it calmly, as though recounting an old tale from long ago.
Because he had hoped Beatrice would accept this memory of his as something insignificant, a past that had already elapsed and required no worry.
Yet when had anything concerning Beatrice ever flowed in the direction he expected?
When he came to his senses, he had ungainly crumpled his large frame and buried his face in Beatrice’s shoulder.
Listening to her small yet vigorously beating heart and the continuous stream of her voice, as if trying to reassure him.
“Ha…”
Letting out a long breath, Clyde slowly opened his eyes. The orange light cast by the candle softly enveloped the room. Just as she had done moments ago.
Beatrice probably wouldn’t even remember, but those words she had carelessly rambled had brought Clyde no small amount of comfort. She was always like that.
Whenever he agonized over an unsolvable problem, Beatrice would appear and blast that problem away with a bang.
‘I don’t know what it is, so let’s clash and resolve it! It’ll be fine if the body suffers a bit!’
While adding words that felt clear precisely because they were so simple.
So……
—Bang, bang, bang!
“Clyde, you’re in there, right? I’m coming in!”
“….”
“Hey, I thought of something, you know? Listen.”
Yes, just like right now.
Looking at Beatrice’s pink cheeks, flushed with excitement, Clyde let out a helpless, breathless laugh.
“Tell me.”
Naturally accepting her intrusion, as he always had.
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