12. Rekachev Circus School Trial (2)

Stepping down from the carriage, Ella felt as though she had returned to Wonderland.

The streets thrummed with festival energy, thronged with people in gaudy masks. While they had been locked away in intensive training of a sort for nearly two weeks, Yeterinpurk had thoroughly steeped itself in the colors of Halloween.

She murmured to herself, taking in the streets teeming with every kind of monster and fairy.

"It's a little less noisy here."

Reina, walking beside her, nodded as if in agreement with Ella's assessment, utterly detached from the reality they'd just left behind.

They hadn't had a proper rest in three days. Reporters had swarmed the front of their lodging, eager to cover the incident.

"Just one comment, please!"

"Why won't you come out? You were happy enough to pose for photos when you walked into that factory!"

"Frauds! Explain yourselves!"

They wondered how the rumors could have spread so fast, but the truth was, they'd been spreading for a fortnight. Public sentiment hadn't soured overnight. It had been accumulating all along—a slow-boiling controversy over whether what they were doing was genuine or a sham—and now it had erupted all at once.

The papers mocked them, dubbing them the "Frank 10." In comedy, a "Frank" meant a setup designed to fool performers by trapping them in a fake scenario. A magician or acrobat would be thrust onto the stage, the props or equipment tampered with, and the audience would laugh at their helpless bewilderment as their tricks failed.

It was, they had to admit, an apt nickname for people who had performed a sham script believing wholeheartedly it was the real thing.

Had the ones caught up in the Frank 10 been rank-and-file members, the whole mess could have been dismissed as personal misconduct. But with the troupe leaders all implicated, no such excuse was possible. The entire circus companies involved became the laughingstock of the industry.

Journalists had set up camp in clusters along every path leading to the villa. Unable to stand it any longer, Sven had volunteered to go out and "persuade" them to leave. His Inspira, the Clown's Lie, could exert a weak hypnotic effect on anyone outside the troupe.

But Wonderstein had stopped him. Sven's power wasn't strong enough. There was no telling how long the hypnosis would last, and the fallout once it broke was a separate problem. Reporters who came to their senses might retaliate by writing revenge pieces. Not that their reputation wasn't already infamous enough.

<Suspicious Selection Criteria: A Result of Lobbying by the Sponsors?>

<Desperate for the Spotlight: Did Former Nobody Ella Catch Star Sickness?>

Words were put in their mouths as if they'd actually spoken them; falsehoods circulated as established facts.

Sometimes the Duke was the target, sometimes the sponsors, but the main focus of the condemnation remained the ten people directly involved in the stage performance.

As mentioned earlier, the overriding reason for the hostility was that while public opinion outside had turned vicious over the controversy of the Illusory 13th's authenticity, they had all remained silent, absorbed only in their acting.

The Duke himself, true to his word, had stepped forward and shouldered as much blame as he could. But men of his stature had a way of being shielded by powers that moved independently of their will, protecting them whether they liked it or not.

In this region, where the Duke's influence was strong, the local press spun a narrative: how could a sick, blind old man be expected to verify a script? It was the fault of those clowns whispering flattery in his ear.

Simon, who had been staying at the Duke's villa, became a prime target. Every article made sure to include a photograph of him bowing obsequiously at the Duke's side. Having spent his time in the city making the rounds and greasing palms to drum up business, he'd provided them with an overabundance of material.

If Simon was the whipping boy among the troupe leaders, Ella had become the press's primary prey among the Five Acrobats. She and Reina were considered the leaders of the group. Reina, however, had a solid career, a taciturn nature, and a reputation among reporters for being dull and uncooperative in interviews. Ella, by contrast, had a forgettable background and had always been forthcoming with the press—making her far easier to tear into.

The media painted her as a nobody who'd gotten a taste of fame after making a splash at the entrance exams and had been desperate for more ever since. Even the interview she'd given to a circus magazine was used against her. In it, she had named Christian as her favorite playwright and had even performed a piece on the spot, acting out any requested passage from his works.

Now, that very enthusiasm was twisted into ammunition to attack her.

Wonderstein, who had lived for years in the cutthroat world of online streaming, understood what she was going through better than anyone. He had endured mockery and insults of a vivid, ugly sort this era's newspapers couldn't hold a candle to. Belittling his skills was routine; mockery of his disability was common.

At times, the people slinging the most vicious abuse turned out to be fellow disabled individuals when he investigated them. Most of them were in better physical circumstances than he was. They looked at his refusal to be as miserable or despondent as they were—his cheeky, energetic persona despite his worse condition—and they despised him for it.

It had wounded him deeply, enough to leave genuine psychological scars. So he understood Ella's situation intimately.

Behind the spirited front she maintained ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠before the troupe members to weather the press's malicious attacks—how much hurt must lie beneath it?

That was why he had encouraged her to go out.

"Miss Ella, how about taking the day off tomorrow and going out to enjoy yourself with the others?"

"What? At a time like this? And the exam briefing is the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠day after tomorrow..."

Ella's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠voice was low, uncertain.

"Which is exactly why tomorrow's the only day to have fun. Besides, it's time to let the body rest from conditioning anyway."

At that, she glanced out the window, looking troubled.

"W-well, but what if we go out there and they find some other fault to pick..."

"They won't recognize you if you're in costume. Arno said he'd help us get out unseen."

Ella couldn't deny she was afraid. It was a first for her. The thought of being frightened to show her face in public. All her life she'd been able to stand tall because she'd had nothing to be ashamed of. As long as she believed she was right, she could be confident no matter what anyone said. But now, for the first time, she felt she had been "wrong," and the armor of that self-assurance had shattered, leaving her defenseless against the world's sharp tongue.

Wonderstein, seemingly guessing her inner thoughts, reached out with his barely functional arm and gave her a reassuring pat.

"It's hard, isn't it? I know what it feels like when a thing you started with good intentions goes sideways and people tear you apart for it. But staying cooped up in here will just make you shrink further and hurt more. Miss Ella, you've been sneaking out at night to collect all those newspapers I told you to throw away, haven't you?"

"Th-that's... I have to at least keep track..."

Wonderstein nodded, as if to say he understood that impulse.

"Don't worry. Just go outside tomorrow. Forget everything about the job and have fun."

Ella's face flushed bright red as she received his embrace. Ever since she'd lost her memories, she had always been the one to draw near. He had only ever passively accepted it and even stepped back when she pressed too close. Hadn't he turned down her confession outright just two months ago?

Yet here he was, reaching out first, reading her heart, and offering comfort. She felt a surge of courage and nodded.

"Okay."

And the next day, out in the streets, she felt an immense swell of gratitude toward him.

"This is incredible."

She let her gaze travel across the crowd. The sound of laughter and light, lilting music made her heart pound. The festival's signature vibrant energy swept away the dark clouds that had occupied her mind for days.

Her memories would confirm the truth once they fully returned, but right now, she was certain: a man who would think of her like this could not possibly be a bad person.

That conviction had only grown stronger through this ordeal. After all, she'd just experienced firsthand how misunderstanding and prejudice could corner a person.

"Hey, Ella! You made it out!"

"Looks like that dead-eyed face finally relaxed a bit, eh?"

"Let's have a blast today and then head back!"

The Trimery Triplets and Umon had been chosen as their guides for the day.

During the ten days the others had been at the Duke's estate, the monster members had wandered the city and enjoyed the festival. Maybe that was why everyone else had begged off today, looking exhausted. Only the three Trimery brothers and Umon had volunteered.

"Down this way, there's a street acrobatics challenge yard run by small troupes from the western Empire. Lots of unusual skills you don't see every day. And over here, there's a puppet show done by the Gypsy..."

Ella gave Umon a deeply suspicious look; his knowledge of the festival program was unnervingly thorough.

"Did you actually train properly while we were away? You seem to know an awful lot."

At her remark, Trimery thumped their chests as if deeply wronged.

"See? Told you. I said the Deputy Leader would react exactly like that."

"We did everything we were told to!"

"Yeah, yeah. We just came out to play in our spare time!"

"She's right! Ella's got a training obsession! If ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠only Reina could come back..."

"What was that?"

Ella shot Umon a sharp look, and the Trimery Triplets clutched their stomachs, cackling. Beside her, Reina smiled quietly, though no one noticed. Her mask hid it.

"When are you going to take that thing off? I'm going to forget your face."

At Ella's words, Reina reached up and touched the Weeping Woman Mask. After a moment, she answered in a voice touched with stubbornness.

"My father gave it to me."

"Since when are you two so close?"

Ella, who knew the history between Simon and his daughter, tilted her head, puzzled by Reina's attitude. Not wanting to discuss the mask further, Reina changed the subject.

"By the way, your Halloween costume—don't tell me it's that man from Wonderland?"

"Ah, this? Hehe, I gave it a try!"

Ella looked down at her own outfit. She'd abandoned the original Halloween costume tailored by her dressmaker back in Wonderland and thrown together a new one from whatever materials were available at the villa. It wasn't much to look at, but the shabbiness only made the imitation of Mr. Scarecrow all the more authentic.

"Come along now, Miss Elphi!"

Ella mimicked his voice perfectly, then flawlessly reproduced his loose-limbed, shambling walk. The absurd display even made Reina, who was not one for loud laughter, burst out giggling.

'It really is better to be outside.'

Reina felt she'd made the right choice accepting Wonderstein's suggestion. For her, there was one additional reason apart from everyone else's: she didn't have to be in the same space as her "father."

Before long, they reached the spot where they'd arranged to meet Ruelo. A young girl dressed as a chick and a young man in a goose costume stood there holding hands.

Ella's expression grew complicated at the sight of Baron Dosville. Ruelo had already told her about this, but seeing it in person left a sour taste. While she hesitated, Umon recognized his face and clapped his palms together.

"Hey, it's the tomato-throwing guy from back then!"

Dosville scowled and flared his wings at the remark.

"Wonderstein Circus, huh. And 'guy'? Listen here, monster pal, I'm in my twenties."

"Huh. Then 'guy' is right. And 'pal'? I'm ten years old."

"...What?"

Right then, Trimery got a belated look at him and chimed in.

"Isn't this the punk who showed up with a bunch of thugs and wrecked the place?"

"Yeah. Tried to frame our Troupe Leader before that, too."

"What business does this bastard have here?"

"You monsters... you think I wanted to come? This little demon here..."

While the men traded raised voices and pointed fingers, Reina and Ella exchanged greetings with Luri. It had only been a few days, but seeing each other's faces was a genuine relief. Maybe it was the bond of shared hardship.

"I miss seeing your real face, Reina..."

"Now's not a good time. I'll show you later."

Ruelo's face fell with disappointment, but there was nothing to be done. Reina hadn't been able to remove the mask even once since returning from Wonderland.