The Lady Waits (Extra)
Meanwhile, while Yohan struggled in the underground city to secure the aid of the Magic Tower and Cryan, Karalin paid a quiet visit to the biology department’s annex at Sigmund Academy—the Flower Field of Paradox.
She remembered how Yohan had once bought flowers from this very place to present her with an unexpected bouquet of peonies. For that reason alone, this garden held happy memories for her. Even the fragrance that drifted naturally through the air lifted her spirits.
…But that was beside the point. Today, her purpose lay elsewhere.
She had come to visit the research wing dedicated to mana flowers, a place accessible only to researchers and students majoring in biology. The mana-flower research wing was, quite literally, a miraculous space where thousands upon thousands of spells could be imbued into blossoms. Under normal circumstances, entry was strictly forbidden, but today she had a simple solution.
“Ah, yes, of course.”
She had deployed what might be called the “I was called by the professor” technique—despite no such summons existing—while holding her head high. It was, after all, the unmistakable bearing of a Grand Duke’s daughter, undiminished even by widespread aversion. Truthfully, the old Karalin would never have considered such a pretext; she would have confronted the situation openly and honestly. But this time she had asked herself a simple question: What would my servant do?
If it were him, he would surely have forced his way in like this.
He was a man of truly admirable drive. Spending so much time at his side had, without her realizing it, influenced Karalin in countless ways.
In any case, the flower she sought was inside the research wing: the Oblivion Flower, capable of erasing specific memories. At first glance its power seemed immense, yet the method to undo its effect was laughably simple—one merely had to smell any ordinary flower. Still, the reason she had come in search of it was to carry out the “plan” her servant had proposed to her with absolute perfection.
He had said this:
“I will pretend to die after falling for Lovan’s scheme. Then, using Rorschach, I will impersonate Lovan and feed him false information.”
And also:
“My lady will attend the forest field exercise as scheduled. When that detestable Vankait approaches you with a smirk, cut off his head.”
Vankait… That wretch actually wanted to watch her crumble. The mere fact that he had plotted to eliminate Yohan first was unspeakably repulsive. Truly, the existence of such a human being filled her with nothing but disgust.
Yet emotion was one thing, reality another. From what Yohan had told her, Vankait was clearly a meticulous, cunning opponent. According to him, if Yohan did not die as the man desired, Vankait would never set foot inside the forest training grounds.
That was why Yohan was currently working with the Magic Tower faction, striving to strengthen Rorschach’s abilities. Even so, Karalin could not simply sit still and wait for his return. More precisely, one question kept circling inside her mind.
What if his scheme succeeds and Vankait is deceived, but I fail to act out his death convincingly…?
No. Just as Yohan had no talent for acting, she herself had always loathed it and possessed not the slightest aptitude. She could never pull it off.
Therefore, Karalin had come to a conclusion.
If I temporarily erase the memory of sharing that scheme with Yohan, won’t I truly believe he is dead?
If that happened, she would be able to deliver exactly the reaction Vankait wanted—without the slightest hint of falsehood. Of course, the truth that she had “erased the memory” would simply be layered on top.
After searching every possible avenue, Karalin had finally stepped into this flower field. And plucking the bloom proved remarkably easy. No one had seen her, and no one would dare question a Grand Duke’s daughter who took a flower so openly.
When he returned, she would use this flower to erase the memory of their shared plan. She would show Vankait the precise reaction he craved. Then, the moment Yohan appeared before her with a delighted face, she would ask him to smell an ordinary flower and regain her original purpose. The instant her memories returned, she would sever Vankait’s neck.
…And that would be the end of it.
The actions she took while missing those memories would surely be mortifying, but for the sake of the plan she could endure it.
…I wonder if Yohan would praise me for thinking this way.
She honestly believed it was a cleverly constructed scheme. Yet even though her self-esteem had never been high, lately it had plunged to rock bottom. More than anything else, she wanted praise from Yohan alone. Nothing more. Just that.
Because he was the most outstanding person she had ever met. The person she wanted to emulate most. The coolest, most wonderful person. The only one who belonged to her alone.
Was it so wrong to want praise from someone like that?
Yet as she pondered this, Karalin unconsciously let her thoughts drift in another direction.
I’m such a lacking person. Why does Yohan continue to look after me?
Could it be… that Yohan likes me?
The moment the thought formed, she found herself walking the night path alone, twirling a lock of her long blue hair around her finger. A faint, pleasant flush rose on her pale cheeks.
But the more she walked, the more that thought faded. No matter how she considered it… she had no qualities that could possibly warrant such feelings.
…No. The emotion Yohan holds for me must be pity. Why would he like someone like me, who possesses nothing remarkable?
She had no wit, no charm. The fate she walked was not merely unclean—it was absurd. She was surrounded by nothing but contempt and oppression. Being with her offered only hell. She did not even consider herself particularly beautiful. Having been raised from childhood as the heir to the Grand Duchy, she had never learned to adorn herself like other young ladies. And though it was a matter of family lineage… she was not especially voluptuous, either. In the matter of figure, she could not claim any high marks.
Moreover, she was unusually tall for a woman; Yohan might dislike that. Though a man as large as he was might not mind height in a woman, it remained a rather significant complex for her. Even her hobbies were strange, weren’t they? She had that odd habit of collecting the gifts Yohan gave her. She was nothing but a foolish idiot who only ever received help.
Even if she had once saved Yohan from freezing to death long ago, for him to remain at her side all this time to repay that debt was something that far surpassed ordinary human will. Therefore, the emotion Yohan held toward her was clear. Nothing more, nothing less than pity. And boundless loyalty.
She was merely a girl who had read too many fairy tales, harboring vain delusions about the merciful pity and loyalty he bestowed upon her.
I really am still far from worthy. To think of a romantic relationship with such a noble person…
Well, she herself had vaguely understood this all along, and had never once tried to view their relationship in that light. Lately, however, cracks had begun to form in that conviction. The cause was none other than the words she had heard directly from Yohan—“Rumors are spreading that we are in a romantic relationship”—and the conversation she had shared with Gremory over tea.
“It is.”
“U-uh…?!”
“Th-that’s not what this is, Gremory!”
So she had spoken honestly—every single thing she thought about Yohan.
Still, such advice needed to be taken with a grain of salt. She knew it was only meant to make her feel better.
But what if—really, what if—Yohan were her man? Nothing could be better than that.
She knew he was not thinking any such thing. She understood all too well that this was nothing more than her own selfish wish. Yet perhaps she had never truly harbored any thoughts other than this. Because she had never once imagined a life without Yohan.
…I wonder if I can endure it even after using the Oblivion Flower.
But well, since the effect would only be temporary, perhaps it wouldn’t matter.
And so Karalin waited for her one and only star, whose return time remained unknown. Today as well, she gazed up at the night sky.
And from the spire that offered a clear view of the path by which she would return, high above, Vankait watched her through a telescope.
“…Yohan, Yohan, Yohan is nowhere to be seen. Where could you be heading all alone, Grand Duke’s young lady?”
It was a spine-chilling little hum.