Do You Love Me?
I had hoped a day like this would never come. A private meeting with Frederica meant the situation had gone seriously wrong—really wrong. And now, it had.
"You're here."
"...Yes."
And here I was, choosing of my own accord to meet Frederica alone.
"I'd like to hear from your own lips whether the rumors I've heard are true."
"Which rumor? The one about me beating my maid black and blue?"
Frederica's hooded eyes snapped open, her cherry-blossom irises fixing on me. In that emotionless gaze, I swallowed hard without thinking. She's hiding it. Perfectly. I could tell. That impassive face was a mask. And I tensed. Someone that skilled at concealing their true feelings wouldn't fall for half-baked acting.
"Yes. I did it."
First task: shatter Frederica's composure. In the original story, Frederica was always rational and level-headed. Even in the bad ends where she died. But there were just two moments when her calm cracked. The first was realizing Bathory wasn't her real little sister. The second was meeting the true one. Both tied to family.
"...Why did you do it?"
"I was angry. How could I just stand by while some lowly maid insulted her mistress?"
Should I dig into that? The backlash would be huge. Our relationship might shatter beyond repair. But...
"You're terrible at lying, Bathory."
The tip of Frederica's cane touched my chin.
"You have no idea how many liars I've dealt with over the years, or how I've pried the truth from them."
"Ugh..."
"Compared to their secrets, yours is as flimsy as a child's treasure buried under shallow dirt."
Frederica lifted my chin with the cane.
"You may wield the power of a noble and a mistress, but at your core, you're still just a child who hasn't even reached adulthood."
Her demeanor was like a cop interrogating a suspect.
"That maid you supposedly injured is taller than you and far stronger."
Going over every inconsistency, digging for the truth.
"No matter if you're her employer, when someone's life is threatened, instinct kicks in—they fight back without regard for consequences."
Frederica interrogated me masterfully, her fierce gaze piercing me like she was ready to tear into any lie the moment it slipped out.
"But you... not a scratch on you, not even a tear in your hem. As if no resistance touched you at all."
A maid superior to me in every physical aspect had ended up that battered without mounting any real defense. Even I had to admit it was suspicious. Employer or not, it was person against person. For one side to offer zero resistance and nearly die felt off.
"You may have a noble's power, but you're still just a child at heart."
Bathory's strength before becoming a witch was that of an ordinary teen. Even striking with intent to kill, she couldn't deal meaningful damage to adult servants, most of whom were well past their teens.
"And... the you I know is a nasty little thing, but not someone who'd harm others that badly."
Plus, the original Bathory was hot-tempered but also a coward. Not a true villain—more like she lacked the guts to inflict that level of injury. Her kill count was low compared to her infamy, across all routes. The little sister was a jerk and a scaredy-cat, which made her even more hated. But Bathory earned disdain, not fear.
"If your hands were that vicious, no one would want to work in this house to begin with."
People might call Bathory a stain on the family, but the Mirhane estate servants rarely left.
"So tell me. Why did you do it? Or..."
—what are you hiding, even framing yourself for this?
Frederica's whisper tickled my ear.
"..."
She suspects something already. She didn't have enough info to reach the truth yet, but if I left any room, she'd launch an investigation. Just like in the original.
"You worry so much about the servants, but..."
Was there some plausible excuse? A reason Bathory could snap without it seeming odd...
Ah, got one.
"You don't seem to care at all when I or Urti sister get insulted by them."
That maid had badmouthed Urtic in the past. Called her lazy and such, griping about it. I remembered.
"...She insulted Urti?"
"Yes."
Insulting Bathory might be overlooked. Sure, status and hierarchy made it unacceptable, but Bathory treated her staff so poorly she deserved it. Urtic didn't bully servants and was close to Frederica. Mild jabs at Bathory might slide, but Urtic?
"I don't particularly like Urti sister, and I wouldn't get mad if someone insulted her."
True enough. Neither original Bathory nor I felt much for Urtic.
"But no matter how lazy and filthy she is for not bathing, she's still a noble. A noble lowly scum like that shouldn't dare insult."
Even so, I used Urtic as my pretext. Original Bathory probably would have too, to justify herself.
"Is all that true?"
"Yes."
Of course, real Bathory would've frozen up in front of Frederica, too scared to lie properly.
"Will you still punish me, sister?"
But I'm fake.
"Even if it's true..."
"Anyway, it hurts my feelings."
Frederica's face remained impassive. But I saw it—the faint crack in her poker face.
"You ignored it when I got insulted all this time, but hearing Urti sister was mocked shocks you that much?"
"..."
I smiled. A sinister smile unfit for Bathory Mirhane.
"You..."
"I know. Compared to Urti sister, I'm... not that cute, right?"
Shift topics. From rational facts of the incident to emotions.
"I'm not fragile like Urti sister, or kind."
"What does that have to do with—"
"Nothing. I'm just saying what I want."
My words had no logic. Pure stubbornness, tantrum. Noise to drag the talk off-track.
"But if you want to shut me up... do it. Like always... I'll vanish from sight."
"..."
For the first time, confusion and hesitation flickered in Frederica's eyes. She who never yielded control in reason's realm had lost it. Family love. Why Urtic adored Bathory. Why Frederica never fully cast her out. It halted the Frederica who'd normally press without mercy for truth.
"Someone like me... honestly, wouldn't it be better if I weren't around? Don't you think, sister?"
"..."
"No immediate denial... so I can take that as agreement?"
The cool elder sister compared to Urtic must've thought it once or twice.
"Was that why you lured me out on the hunt that day?"
"...No. That wasn't my intent."
"Then who was chasing me that day?"
So I mix in another lie here.
"...Who says anyone chased you?"
"Are you clueless, or just pretending...?"
The same lie I'd fed Urtic. Recycling it.
"Enough with the delusions. Do I look like someone swayed by nonsense?"
"Yeah, well. Never expected you'd believe me."
Of course I didn't.
"You've always been like that, sister."
"...What?"
The assailant talk was bait for a bigger fish.
"Not just you—Father, Mother, every servant in this house."
Bathory's broken personality stemmed from Moonlight's secret of her birth. But...
"They all ignored me to fuss over Urti sister."
While the household doted on sickly Urtic, the neglect shaped her too.
"People who wouldn't show their faces when I desperately begged for attention."
Too big, too complex for a child. The birth secret. Yet Bathory hid it alone. By choice? Or because no one helped, and she gave up?
"Only after I gave up did they finally look at me."
The parents, wracked with guilt over their neglected youngest during Urtic's care, poured belated love. Meaning Bathory endured a profoundly lonely childhood until Urtic improved.
"Frederica sister."
I don't pity Bathory.
"The sister I revere and fear."
But do you?
"I've wanted to ask you something for a long time."
Clack, clack. I approached Frederica. Past her furrowed, composure-cracked face, I leaned close to her ear.
"Do you..."
To the eldest who loved her blood kin, burdened always with duty.
"...love me?"
I whispered softly.