Side Story: After That Conversation
Click-clack, click-clack─
The sound of heels rang out sharply, and before she knew it, that narrow corridor of the palace had filled to bursting with that one sound alone. The clicking showed no sign of stopping.
"Ugh... seriously... I hate having to look for things like this..."
With the sun long since set, the palace interior lay sunk deep in darkness. Yet beneath the chandelier flames that lit up that darkness, the shadow of a woman stretched thick across the floor, as it always did.
Her hair, which lost none of its pink even in the dark, caught the eye.
"...Maybe I should have just stationed some people on her back then, after all?"
The image of a woman surfaced in her mind. The young lady of House Reinhardt, her black hair fluttering softly, her red eyes burning bright—the girl who had dragged every last one of her family's shames out into the open before the entire crowd. That proud, unflinching figure had lodged itself in her memory and refused to fade.
Which was precisely why she had never imagined it. That a girl like that could end up in danger.
'...Well, it's my mistake too... No matter how short-handed we were, I should have posted someone on her.'
No matter that she was a duke's daughter—once she had exposed her own family's filth with her own mouth, Shino should have realized she was as good as severed from her house. And she should have realized, too, that a young mage of that caliber would be coveted anywhere and everywhere.
Mages were worth money. Or, to be precise, it wasn't the mage herself but the mana she wielded that was. She didn't know how things had been in the old days, but in this era, mana was in itself a source of energy, a yardstick of strength, and proof of one's level. She should have known that the sheer scale of the mana that young mage carried was more than enough for someone—anyone—to covet.
'Well, that's a secondary factor, but... she's objectively beautiful too, so there'd be no shortage of bastards after her.'
Beautiful black hair and a lovely face—who had she taken after, again?—flitted through her mind, and the more that image surfaced, the tighter anxiety coiled around her heart.
'...It's not already too late, is it?'
Because of those old memories of hers, still buried deep within her mind.
The Ducal House of Charlotte. One of the Four Great Families—and the name of the house that managed every last dark corner of the Empire.
"Your Grace, a letter has arrived..."
"Hmm? Bring it here."
One day, a letter arrived at that house. A suspicious letter, bearing not even a sender's name.
"..."
"Your Grace?"
"...It seems I must step out for a while."
The contents the letter carried today, as ever, were far from pleasant. They concerned the string of serial disappearances that had been setting the Empire abuzz of late—countless women vanishing from every corner of the realm, and a request that he resolve the matter with all haste.
Naturally, House Charlotte had no choices to weigh. They were, body and soul, loyal servants of the imperial family alone.
"...Are the preparations complete?"
"Yes, my lord. Nearly all of them stand ready, awaiting only your command."
The Hounds, as they were called. Or, the dark side of the Sun. The soldiers of House Charlotte emerged one by one from within the shadows—to faithfully carry out the orders the imperial family had issued.
"Daddy... where are we going...?"
"...!"
"M-My lord...?"
"...We depart."
But today, something was different. Because someone who should never have been seen was standing right there among them. Shino Charlotte, the treasured only daughter of House Charlotte, stood there mid-yawn, clutching the family head's hand.
"...My lord, are you quite certain about this? Bringing the young lady to a place like this..."
"...This child will face it all one day regardless... Better she come along and understand it early."
"..."
"So she knows what hangs upon our hands."
At the time, Shino Charlotte, the only daughter of the Charlotte line, had been endlessly young. She was the family's heir as well, fated to one day shoulder this very work—but the family had deemed her far too young, and raised her in the light rather than the shadows. Then her father, deciding it couldn't hurt for her to build experience early, had begun leading her along personally.
"...The identities of the women have all been confirmed."
"...Grim."
Hell spread out before them when they finally arrived. A hell thick with the stench of death—far, far too terrifying for a girl so young.
Finding the women hadn't taken long. House Charlotte, with the finest information network in the Empire, had set out in earnest, and perhaps it was only natural their base was uncovered so easily.
"...What is this?"
"We believe it to be a victim's arm."
"Shriveled and twisted up like that?"
"Yes."
And yet even that brief span of time had clearly been an eternity of hell for the victims. The state of the women—every last breath already wrung out of them—proved as much. Each and every one of them brought mummies to mind. At the sight of them, looking as though every spark of life had been drained from their bodies, a creeping revulsion began to rise even in the onlookers.
"...Huurk─"
"...Someone go pat that one on the back."
"My lord, even now, we could take the young lady outside..."
"It's fine... Anything too graphic has already been veiled with magic."
A fishy stench began to seep into the air, rising from the stains scattered across the floor. It was the kind of reek that suggested blood, most likely—but with white smeared here and there among it, not all of it could be blood. Traces of the act itself, perhaps. Unbidden, the mind replayed what must have been done to the victims in this filthy, lightless room.
"Hic... hic... waaah, Daddy... I'm scared..."
She had been so small and tender back then that the sobs burst out of her before she could stop them. The family head gently gathered her up as she wept pitifully, clinging to the hem of his trousers. What he said to her then—she'd been too young to remember it all. But... one thing. Just one thing, she remembered with perfect clarity. Even now.
"Preventing outcomes like this is our role, my daughter."
Her father's face, worn by a sadness that had seemed, somehow, immense.
Perhaps because that old memory had resurfaced, her mind grew only more tangled. Even as she told herself this is no time for this, she kept superimposing that day's carnage onto her—onto the girl whose deep black hair had left such an impression.
'If it were a...nyone else, I wouldn't be this worked up whether they lived or died...'
Unfortunately, she could no longer afford to be. Her brother would never sit still for it. She'd been certain his relationship with his family was a poor one, yet the attitude he had shown this time was a different beast entirely. She could even sense the obsession in him—an absolute refusal to fail to find her.
'So they didn't actually hate each other all that much, huh?'
She snapped her fingers once, with a sharp crack, in the long, empty corridor.
"You called, my lady."
"...You called."
Just as moments before, a sphere of darkness bloomed behind her, and out of it sprang two figures—two men in black masks with not so much as a single hole cut into them, draped head to toe in black cloaks, their builds polar opposites of one another.
"Uncle Ren, you—please track down every last trace of the young lady of House Reinhardt."
"Your command shall be done, my lady. What is the deadline?"
"Work at the very fastest pace you can manage."
The moment she finished speaking, one of the men bowed his head and vanished on the spot. She didn't stop there, turning her gaze straight to the other man beside him.
"Uncle Rem."
"...Yes, my lady."
"You... look into every outfit around here that specializes in human trafficking."
"..."
"As for criteria... hm, anyone who's wrapped up a job recently would be even better."
"...And by when should this be done?"
"This one... will take a fair amount of time, so if I'm being generous—"
In that instant, a memory flashed through her mind—the words she had shouted as she grabbed the black-haired boy who, mere hours ago, had been trying to bolt for the door.
"If that's not enough, I'll put our family's full power behind the search myself—so get back inside for now!"
"F-fine, I get it... I'll do my best."
"But... there's still a chance we won't find her... Ah, wait!! Don't you dare run out—!"
If he stormed out like that, what would become of the succession ceremony tomorrow? A title His Majesty the Emperor himself would bestow. Did he really intend to make a fool of himself in front of the assembled nobility? She had tried persuading him ten thousand different ways, but his black eyes hadn't wavered an inch. Eyes that seemed to regard such things as beneath even a glance.
"..."
She couldn't promise how long that patience of his would hold.
"...Sorry, but please make it as fast as you can. The absolute fastest you're capable of."
"...Understood, my lady."
She had no choice but to spit out an unreasonable order—even though she knew better than anyone just how difficult it would be to honor those words. Because she had no desire to make an enemy of the boy who had felled a monster that even Knight Commanders could barely withstand.
"...Still, who on earth laid a hand on that girl?"
She didn't bother adding the rest—and how unlucky for them. After all, it wasn't her place to decide what became of him.
'...Well, as long as it isn't our family!'
And that much, at least, wouldn't change now, either.