The Solver Reveals the Mastermind
Isabelle could not summon any expression at Rood’s words. It was not that she felt no gratitude, no thankfulness, no flicker of a brighter future. If she traveled with him in search of the sacred elixirs, perhaps she could defy the death sentence written into her body. But how?
Even before Rood arrived, Isabelle had tried to mend herself. As a final measure she had slowed her body’s growth and simply waited for death to claim her. She possessed not a single means of obtaining the three elixirs she needed. She made efforts, yes, but in her heart she had already surrendered. Isabelle was not foolish enough to cling to what could not be held. The wisdom that some things must be accepted had reached her sooner than any desperate longing to live.
That was only natural. Isabelle was a genius who, no matter which path she chose, had no path at all.
“If you make such a casual promise, I may begin to hope.”
Isabelle smiled as though it were a jest and studied Rood, who lay facedown avoiding her gaze. She read every trace of his embarrassment. The green eyes that darted away the instant they met hers. The faint flush coloring his face in a way she had never seen. The restless tapping of his index finger against the floor.
Most of all she watched those green eyes. Yet even when their gazes locked, his pupils only trembled; they did not dilate. So he does not love me yet.
Isabelle assigned meaning to every motion he made. From a person’s outward appearance alone she could deduce their occupation, their habits, their present emotions. Paradoxically, she found it far harder to describe her own heart. One cannot stare into a mirror at every moment and accurately read one’s own feelings.
“I should stop here.”
Isabelle rose from the floor. Several small reasons had driven her to rush into his arms, but the true purpose had been to test the nature of his feelings for her.
As she tried to stand, a hand caught hers. When she looked down, Rood was gripping her fingers tightly.
“Why do you do that?”
“I wish to ask the same. Why are you making that face?”
Since Isabelle herself could not see her own expression, she scratched her cheek at his question.
“What sort of face am I making?”
“You still look lonely. Lonely enough that I cannot let go.”
“I am sorry, but that is a misunderstanding. I… am not so lonely right now.”
She tapped the back of his hand twice. Only then did Rood release her, allowing her to push herself up.
“It is rather late to ask, but is your head all right?”
When she had run to him and embraced him, she had cradled his head with both hands in case of injury. She asked now only to be certain she had not struck him somewhere without realizing.
“My head is fine. By the way, who are you?”
Rood’s tone was teasing. Isabelle let out a small laugh.
“Because one day you will be the man responsible for the future.”
“You demand responsibility the moment I regain my senses? That sounds extremely suspicious.”
“Have you forgotten all the improper things that happened between us?”
Rood flinched and shook his head.
“Thanks to you, Lady Isabelle, I remember everything. Yes, I am your guard knight.”
“Think again. Is there nothing more? You came out naked, and in the bathroom…”
“That was an accident!”
“Can it be that you have even forgotten the words you whispered after pushing me onto the bed?”
“Enough! I surrender.”
Watching his flustered face, Isabelle grinned with open mischief.
“This is what happens when you challenge the Supreme Strategist of the Kingdom Alliance. Do you understand?”
“Yes. As expected, you are far beyond what I can handle.”
Isabelle gave his back a light pat and opened the side door that separated the terrace from the room.
“The night has grown quite deep. I will retire first, so rest well.”
“Will you not need a guard?”
“Would it not be terribly strange if I summoned my guard knight to my bed every night?”
“I should not have asked.”
“Pfft. In any case, sleep well, Rood!”
Isabelle gave him a small wave, left the terrace, and walked down the corridor. She descended the stairs to the first floor, then took the narrow spiral staircase that led from the first floor into the basement.
“You have arrived.”
When Pete, who had been waiting, opened the basement door, the thick stench of blood rolled out. The clink of chains and the sound of retching echoed through the stone chamber.
Isabelle walked to the farthest cell and met the eyes of the trembling maid, Wendy. The girl’s pupils had contracted to pinpricks.
The situation can hardly be comfortable for her. It is correct to interpret her feelings toward me as hostility.
“Do you still have no desire to speak?”
“Shut your mouth, you filthy whore! The fact that you still live is an insult to the gods!”
Isabelle ignored the curses. She accepted the vial Pete offered and approached the chained girl.
“Yet the fact that so little time remains to me may also be proof that the gods exist.”
“S-stop! Not that… please!”
Wendy’s eyes shook violently. Isabelle noted the dilation of her pupils.
She must be terrified. This truth serum is potent enough to devour the mind.
“Speak. Who stands behind you?”
“I cannot… I cannot say. The Empire will regain its glory, and you will surely die!”
“If you mean to deceive me by claiming you are an imperial spy, stop. It is clearly one of the worms inside the Alliance.”
Wendy squeezed her eyes shut.
“I am sorry, but the number of insiders who wish to kill me has already been narrowed to three. Whatever becomes of a creature like you, I already know.”
Isabelle continued calmly.
“I merely wish to make this easier for you. Protect what must be protected, and I will spare your life.”
“How can I believe the words of a cold-blooded monster who would slaughter my entire family!”
“No, Wendy.”
Isabelle seized the girl’s chin, tilting her head back, and let a single drop fall from the black bottle. A purple liquid the exact shade of Isabelle’s own eyes slid across Wendy’s lips.
“Since you are a monster that devours even families, would you not spare me?”
Isabelle’s eyes gleamed.
“I do not trust people. Not even family. You know it too, do you not? How rotten they were… how utterly stupid.”
“Ugh! Let go!”
“Therefore, Wendy, if you give me useful information I will spare you. My patience, too, seems to have reached its limit.”
Drop. Drop. Drop. The liquid seeped between Wendy’s tightly pressed lips. She fought desperately not to swallow.
Isabelle gave a small laugh and tossed the vial aside.
“Yes. If you refuse to speak, what use is any of this? Pete. Have you completed the investigation?”
“Yes, my lady. I located the village where Wendy was born. It is Gehum Village in the Wikelan domain. The territory is distant, yet I have secured the personal records of every commoner who lives there.”
At Pete’s report, Wendy, who had been biting her lip until it bled, began to thrash against her chains. Her voice, already hoarse, tore from her throat in a scream.
“W-wait! Not that!”
“It is too late. Pete, execute Wendy according to the laws of the family.”
“Understood. The prescribed punishment for those who plot to assassinate the head or acting head is to be minced alive and salted. Shall I proceed exactly as written?”
“Yes. Apply the same punishment to her blood relatives.”
“Please! My lord! Acting Head! I will tell you everything! The reason I could not speak was because of that! Please, help me!”
“Did I not say it is too late? From your earlier words I have already deduced the identity of your mastermind.”
“But my family—please spare my family! The crime is mine alone!”
Isabelle clicked her tongue.
“Wendy. It seems you still fail to understand the difference in our positions.”
She looked down at the sobbing girl with something almost like pity.
“How severely that crime should be punished is a question of my mercy, not a matter for you to negotiate.”
A spark of cunning flashed in Wendy’s eyes.
“I once overheard the mastermind’s plan.”
“The mastermind’s plan?”
“Please spare my family. I will tell you both the plan and the one behind it.”
“It is difficult to trust you. How am I to know whether your words are fabricated? And how could a mere chess piece know the full scheme?”
“Before I came here… I served that lord at night from the time I was a child.”
Isabelle’s eyes wavered. Wendy had been seventeen when she first entered service at the Voenac estate. The implication of what had come before was too horrific to contemplate.
“So I heard it by chance. What their plan entailed. Of course it may be hard to believe, but…”
“I will believe you, so speak truthfully. What reason did they give for conducting such work in secret?”
“They said… they move to erase the remaining blood of the Divine Dragon from this world.”
Goosebumps rose across Isabelle’s entire body. She had assumed the mastermind was merely an imperial agent. But to erase the blood of the Divine Dragon meant the deaths of every noble in the Kingdom Alliance and even the Emperor of the Empire.
“Did you not hear why they wish to erase the blood of the Divine Dragon?”
“I… I do not know that part…”
“The mastermind is Duke Callisto. Is that correct?”
When the name left Isabelle’s lips, Wendy gave a tiny nod.
Duke Callisto governed the western Wikelan domain and held the post of Supreme Commander of the Alliance’s First Front. He was a man who had risen from commoner to duke through merit alone, without inheriting the blood of the Divine Dragon.
Isabelle had suspected him ever since their first meeting, when she had sensed the insidious nature lurking beneath his courteous mask. During the inaugural Alliance council, while her father lay ill, the duke had proposed she become his concubine. She had refused, yet his blatant gaze and suggestive tone had lingered unpleasantly in her memory.
The second reason was the inexplicable supply shipments she had discovered while serving as supreme strategist. Reports of five wagons carrying village women and the quiet disappearance of resources painted an obvious picture.
“What… what will happen to me? Will you truly spare my family?”
“Yes. I made a promise, so I must keep it. However, it does not seem you will last long.”
“That is all right… Lady Isabelle. I am sorry for raising a blade against you after receiving your kindness… cough!”
“Wendy. You were always sharper than the other maids. You have endured much. I am sorry I did not notice sooner.”
“No… it is… fine…”
Wendy’s body sagged. Tears slipped down Isabelle’s cheeks before she realized they had formed.
Isabelle remembered everything. From the day Wendy first arrived at the Voenac mansion to the moment the girl had coaxed open her own tightly sealed heart. Shadows had slowly crept across that once-bright face, but Isabelle, buried in work, had failed to see them clearly.
“Master. The night is deep.”
“Pete… what am I to do? I am so tired of this.”
“Yet you will endure it, and enduring it is precisely what is expected of one who carries the blood of Voenac.”
“Pete. Was it truly better not to tell Wendy? Truly?”
Pete considered the question, then gave a slow nod.
“It was. The news that every soul in Gehum Village has already been assassinated… would have been too cruel for one young girl to bear.”
Two weeks after Wendy was imprisoned in the basement and the assassination attempt failed, word of the village massacre arrived. When Isabelle learned Wendy’s origin, she had halted the torture and agonized over what mercy, if any, she could offer.
Isabelle picked up the bottle she had dropped near Wendy’s lips. Or rather, the bottle of lethal poison that resembled the truth serum in color. She slipped it into her robe. Once the girl learned her family was dead, she would not have chosen to live even if released.
“Yes. In a way, it really does seem there is a god. If a wicked woman like me were allowed to live long… then the world itself would be wrong.”
Isabelle climbed the stairs from the basement back to her room. A few tears fell along the path she took—tears that would dry by morning.