Bluebeard (3)
…He did it to offer them to me?
The absurd revelation left him speechless. For a moment his head spun.
When did he even see me?
Evan had no personal connection with the Bluebeard Count. Worship? Test subjects? They had never so much as spoken.
I even ignored the wedding invitation he sent me ages ago.
A few months back, an invitation had arrived from the Bluebeard Count.
To the esteemed young alchemist,
I humbly request your presence at my sixth wedding.
— The Bluebeard Count
He had ignored it, of course. Why would he go? They weren’t close, and the journey alone would take a full week. At the time, Number Five was still unfinished and his body had been in poor shape.
Knowing what he really was, I had zero reason to attend.
After that, contact? None. No wonder Evan had been disappointed when he first heard the name—the man was a nobody. Yet somehow this ridiculous rumor had started spreading.
So that’s why everyone panicked the moment they heard “Alcarte”!
It wasn’t just the bad reputation. If a rumor like this was circulating, of course people would be terrified. Evan would be scared too!
The sheer absurdity made the back of his neck stiff. He rubbed it while he thought.
Should I just ignore it?
Wishful thinking. Evan sighed.
…There’s no way that works.
Rumors didn’t appear out of thin air. There was always a reason. Either the Bluebeard Count had been running his mouth, or someone who hated Evan had started the nonsense. Either way, it needed fixing.
I’ll have to meet the Bluebeard Count… won’t I?
The thought of actually meeting him made his heart flutter a little. Not fear. Just a tiny bit of tension.
Hmm. Better check everything first, just in case.
Tap, tap. He patted his clothes. The living golem draped over him like leather armor vibrated faintly in reply—still fine. His shadow rippled. The connection to the other golems checked out as well; the staff that served as their medium gave a short answering pulse.
All green. This should be enough.
With this much, meeting the man wouldn’t be a problem. Evan took a deep breath and gestured to Lapis—time to go. She bowed her head.
“Um, my brother is calling me, so I should go. Thank you! This is a present from me.”
“Oh my, how sweet~”
“See you later~”
The wives waved cheerfully. Evan kept his expression carefully neutral, gave a small nod, and left with Lapis.
Their destination: the Bluebeard’s mansion. Finding it was easy.
You’ve got to be kidding me. Even the mansion is blue.
Seeing it in person was somehow worse. His appetite vanished on the spot. Evan’s mood was turning sour when—
Rustle!
“!”
Lapis’s ears pricked straight up. Dolf sensed the presence too and whipped his head around. Evan, the slowest to react, turned carefully so he wouldn’t pull a muscle.
…A person?
A blue dress was slipping through the bushes. Hidden-camera level of stealth? Barely. A child playing hide-and-seek would have done better.
Suddenly a young woman poked her head out of the foliage—and locked eyes with Evan.
“H-hiiik!”
She fainted on the spot.
“…….”
Ten minutes later.
“I-I’m so sorry. I was just so startled…”
“Is fainting the second you see someone considered polite?”
“…….”
I know, so stop saying it.
Evan looked down at the woman with complicated feelings. She kept her head bowed like a criminal. Fainting at the sight of people wasn’t exactly good manners, but…
“…Please raise your head. I’m fine.”
She still looked so young that he couldn’t bring himself to be angry. People got startled. Evan wasn’t petty enough to hold a grudge over something this small.
“I-I’m truly sorry…”
“It’s all right.”
The woman lifted her face. Still baby-faced. Twenty at most?
A commoner?
Her skin was fair and her features rather pretty, though she was a bit thin. Her speech and manner didn’t feel noble either. Yet the dress she wore was clearly high-quality—nothing a commoner would own.
Which meant…
“You’re the Count’s wife, aren’t you?”
“!”
Her eyes went wide.
“H-how did you—?”
“…You looked the part.”
“The Count always scolds me for acting like a country girl…”
“Sister,” Lapis asked around a crunch of carrot, “were you running away?”
“H-huh?”
“You came out looking like someone on the run!”
“Th-that’s…”
The wife hesitated. Was the atmosphere too intimidating? Evan quietly pulled the golems back a little, hoping to ease the pressure. The woman interpreted it differently; her face went paper-white.
“I-I’ll talk! I’ll tell you everything!”
“…I’m not going to do anything.”
“W-well… um…”
The wife—Amelia—had been the youngest of six ordinary sisters. Pretty enough for a commoner, she had received several marriage proposals until the Count himself suddenly appeared and asked for her hand. She accepted, of course. Being the sixth wife didn’t sound that heavy at the time. The Count had been kind, after all. Whether he would make a good husband was another matter.
There was only one condition: give him a son.
Then one day…
“Th-there’s a room in the mansion you’re absolutely never supposed to enter…”
“A room?”
“Yes… You can go anywhere else, but not the rooms the previous wives used. He said he wanted to preserve their traces…”
“You went inside?” Lapis asked.
Amelia flailed for an excuse.
“I-I was trying to catch a mouse…”
That has to be the dumbest lie I’ve ever heard.
A count’s household had servants. Why would the wife personally chase a mouse? Even a passing golem would laugh. Evan, safety-first to the core, could not understand the choice. Why open the one door you were told never to open? He kept the thought to himself. The damage was already done.
“You don’t have to continue.”
“I went in and… th-there were corpses… Kyaaaaah—!”
She didn’t even hear him. A tiny scream escaped and she started to collapse; Lapis caught her with a quick “Hup!”
…So she saw the bodies, huh?
In the original story this wife had already died. He vaguely remembered the Count reaching a tenth wife in the main plot.
Ugh. Hearing it in person makes it even worse.
Should he just leave? Maybe gathering the materials himself would be better, even if it meant heading west instead of east…
Damn it. I still need to deal with that rumor about me.
If the rumor spread beyond this territory it would become a real problem. Who knew how twisted it would get? Stopping it now was the only option.
That was when it happened.
“F-found her!”
“My lady!”
Guards came crashing through the brush. Maybe he should have taken her farther away.
“Wh-who are you?!”
“Identify yourselves!”
Ah.
The trembling guards shouted. Only then did Evan realize how suspicious he looked. A hood alone was already shady; add a swarm of golems and even he would have assumed the worst. Criminal, no question.
Should he just reveal himself here?
“…Everyone, please calm down.”
“Don’t move!”
Spears thrust forward. Sunlight flashed off the tips. Evan swallowed dryly. Brutal! The spears themselves weren’t the real problem—he wouldn’t die from a poke. The problem was Lapis.
“…….”
She had gone completely silent. The half-eaten carrot hung forgotten. Silence was always more terrifying than rage.
At this rate she’s going to kill them all.
That could not happen. Evan steeled himself. Scary or not, he had no choice. Survive first, think later.
He pushed back his hood. Jet-black hair and golden eyes that gleamed coldly even in the shade were revealed. Unmistakably noble. The guards froze. One of them recognized him and his eyes nearly popped out of his head.
“D-Duke Alcarte…! Hic!”
“H-huuuh!”
The guards stumbled backward. Mere commoners who had never even received knight training. Pointing spears at a noble after mistaking him for a criminal? Instant death sentence. Wiping out three generations wouldn’t be surprising.
Not that I have any intention of doing something that insane.
Evan only wanted to clear up the misunderstanding and collect his materials. He wasn’t a maniac. He could be magnanimous about this. The potential aftermath had nothing to do with it. Absolutely nothing.
“I have no intention of harming any of you. Nor the lady.”
“Th-then…”
“I came to this mansion as a guest.”
Evan stepped closer. Right in front of them. One guard, terrified, backed up too far and fell. Evan personally helped him up and brushed the dust from his pants. That should clear any misunderstanding, right?
“Would you be so kind as to escort me inside?”
“…Y-yes! Yes! Of course!”
Evan tried to put on the kindest smile he could manage. Tried.
Ah, damn it. Stage fright.
His face stayed blank. Still, he kept his tone as polite as possible.
“Would you please show me in?”
“Yes!!!”
Surely there would be no more misunderstandings after this.
There were.
“First, allow me to apologize.”
The Bluebeard Count—blue beard, blue clothes, blue walls, blue floor—bowed his head in a color scheme that threatened to drive a man mad.
“That rumors about you have spread throughout my territory is entirely my fault.”
“…….”
“I will personally find the culprit and deal with them, so please, calm your anger.”
I’m… not angry, though.
Why did everyone assume he was furious? Instead of answering, Evan simply stared. Cold sweat rolled down the Count’s forehead. Something was pricking his conscience.
Well, he has been murdering people and stacking the corpses in a room, so…
Not feeling guilty would be stranger. Most people would use that as blackmail material. Evan had no such plans. That was the Count’s reverse scale. Poke it and the man would either despair or lash out. And who would get hurt in the process? Evan. Better to quietly report him later. Safety first, always.
Reporting him to the Imperial Family should be safest.
Evan finally spoke.
“I am merely puzzled.”
“…Do you remember the letter I sent you, young master?”
“The wedding invitation, you mean.”
“After that, the rumors began. That the deaths of my wives were connected to you—more precisely, that they had become test subjects offered to you…”
So that was how it started. He understood now. Rumors always grew in the telling.
Still…
He doesn’t seem to have tried very hard to stop them.
He could have crushed the talk if he wanted, yet he hadn’t. Because it didn’t hurt him. It might even help hide his own crimes. A little irritating, honestly. Should he just smash the place right now?
Tsk. Better not.
The Bluebeard Count was a serial killer. No telling what he might do. This tea could be poisoned for all Evan knew.
I’ll let it slide for now.
Not because he was scared. He simply had no interest in playing the hero of justice. Evan took a sip of tea instead of answering. The Count looked wronged.
“I never thought any such thing. Sending you the invitation was merely an invitation to one of the few fellow alchemists I know.”
“I see.”
“I have no interest whatsoever in the Taboo. Why would I covet the acts most forbidden to alchemists?”
Liar.
Knowing the truth made the claim almost funny. Evan didn’t call him on it.
“I understand.”
“R-really?”
“Yes.”
The Count’s face brightened. Being treated like some superior was awkward, but whatever.
“I did not come here to accuse you of crimes.”
“Then…?”
“I came only to obtain materials.”
Evan drew the Dark King’s letter from his coat and slid it across the table.
“Would you be willing to part with a few of the materials I require? I will pay, of course.”
“This is…”
The Count picked up the letter. A low groan escaped him. For a split second fear flickered in his eyes.
“…So you came knowing everything.”
“?”
Evan gave him a look that asked what on earth he was talking about. But the Count had already finished his own internal calculation.
Thud!
He dropped to his knees again.
“I-I’ll confess everything! Please—if you want my research as well, take it all! J-just spare my life!”
“…….”
One letter, and this was the result. Evan felt his mind go blank.