The Puppet's One Mercy
A trumpet rang out, and the master of ceremonies lifted his voice.
Odelli set her foot upon the crimson carpet and looked out over the gathered nobles, each of them smiling with a different face. A quiet line of strings swelled through the hall, and the guests' applause and cheers followed after it. She walked among them with a ceremonial smile fixed in place. In truth, she was not used to occasions such as this.
Ludville, at her side, was another matter. His expression gave nothing away. Whether the nobles stared or not, he never once granted them a glance. He walked with his eyes fixed on Odelli alone, like a man mad with love—as if, for the banquet's final performance, the one meant to brand the two of them more indelibly upon every witness, he were acting out an obsessive devotion to her.
For an act, it is far too relentless. She felt as though that gaze might bore straight through her face. At last, unable to endure it, Odelli spoke as if surrendering.
"Are you still angry?"
"......No."
"Your eyes are rather fierce."
"People are watching. I'm only acting."
At that, Odelli swallowed a small sigh.
"If you have something to say, I'd rather you said it now."
Better to take the blow first. Ludville did not answer at once. A brief silence followed, as though he were choosing his words, and then he replied in a low, even voice.
"No. I'll tell you later."
"Why?"
"If I bring it up here...... I'm afraid I would forget how serious the situation is."
"......"
She understood at once. He was deliberately refusing to speak of the ring. They stood in the middle of a banquet hall where guests laughed and chattered through the feast, and Cardel was an enemy that had to be dealt with at once.
......How hard is he planning to press me? Odelli, who had hoped to let the matter slide, felt a flicker of dread. Should she flee the moment the banquet ended? No—but they would have to share a room, and there was nowhere convenient to run. Hm. After a moment of private anguish, she simply turned her face from him, reaching for that most convenient of methods: bury it for now, and avoid it.
As for Ludville...... she was sorry, but she had no time to spare for him just yet. The wedding had ended safely, and there was something she had to do before anything else.
The speeches and toasts came to an end, and the banquet followed. Dozens of wineglasses struck together with a clear chime, and dishes sending up fragrant steam were set in a long line down the table. Through it all, Odelli touched a rose-colored champagne only to her lips and quietly surveyed the room.
And she found her. A figure who stood out unmistakably even among the countless nobles.
Beloa.
She stood perfectly upright, her attire without a single crease, a polished smile set upon her face. It was a familiar bearing—the posture of one who had lived more conscious of others' eyes than anyone, so as never to bring shame upon her house. In that moment, as Beloa offered her quiet greetings and let her gaze pass over the company, their eyes met cleanly across the air.
"Sister Beloa."
Odelli approached first and spoke. Sister...... A form of address she had never once taken into her mouth, and one that felt only strange.
"Odelli...... No. I suppose I must address you as Your Grace the Archduchess now."
Beloa answered without the slightest sign of fluster, her smile as if painted on.
"Today's wedding was so splendid that admiration rose of its own accord. May blessings fill you both, and may every day you share with His Grace the Archduke be peaceful."
It was a perfect greeting, flawless to any eye—a shameless lie and a false smile, meant to hide the crack between them. Odelli tossed a small stone into this meaningless play and raised a ripple.
"What brings you here alone? And what of Brother Gawin?"
"......"
For an instant, Beloa's smile seemed to stiffen by a fraction. But only for a moment.
"......Brother is always occupied with public and private affairs. He stands in a position with a great many things he must answer for."
Hm. Odelli thought Beloa was unchanged. Truly meticulous...... And— still living caught in Gawin's grasp.
That was Beloa's only flaw: living as if she worshipped Gawin, and House Cardel, like a faith. Beloa had trampled Odelli countless times. She had branded her insane and locked her in the temple underground, bound her to a magic circle, and in one life even condemned her as a witch and set her upon the pyre. And yet, through all those evils, there was one person Beloa had never been able to let go.
That was Gawin.
No. More precisely, it would be House Cardel. Cardel had always put Gawin forward as heir, as the god's messenger, as the savior of the empire, and Beloa had always followed the will of such a house with perfect fidelity.
And yet, paradoxically, that same Gawin had always betrayed her. Everything Beloa had done to Odelli, she received back from him in kind, for Gawin, in service of his own power, had cast Beloa as a villainess.
Perhaps that was why Odelli did not hate her so very much. Of course, that did not mean she forgave every evil the woman had committed. Only— has it not been a life like a puppet's?
A life without a self, moving only as the house commanded. She had not stirred, as Gawin had, out of any ambition to seize power. She had simply accepted everything, so long as it was the will of Cardel, offering herself up as a tool when there was nothing at all to be gained in return. Toward such a person, anger did not rise so fiercely. She was not loathsome as Gawin was, nor did Odelli wish to tear her down.
Only once had Beloa helped her. In that life, Gawin had been wasting away, dying by degrees...... and they could not even inform the temple and have him treated. The name of the illness was syphilis, a considerably disgraceful diagnosis for the heir of Cardel, the one called the god's messenger.
House Cardel had meant to offer Odelli up as a sacrifice in order to hide the name of Gawin's disease. They intended to exhaust the whole of her purification power to keep him alive. Yet even if they wrung out every last drop of it, whether the illness could be cured remained uncertain. To be precise, the chance that purification could heal him was considerably low...... and when had House Cardel ever cared about such a thing?
It was when the order came down to throw Odelli into the magic circle. That day, Beloa sought out the underground where she was held.
"Get up."
"Go out through that passage, then make for the rear gate. No one will be there now."
"A knight called Lu is waiting for you, I hear."
With those words, Beloa held out a small cloth pouch. Inside that little thing, smaller even than a palm, lay a couple of medicinal herbs and a few gold coins.
For the first time, she had defied Cardel's command. The reason could not be known. Perhaps she had judged that even wringing the purification dry would not save Gawin. And yet the chance was only low; it was not as if there were no possibility he might live. In any case, Beloa chose to help Ludville, and to let Odelli escape.
"In any case, you've a few years of life left at most."
She spoke as if she were releasing her only because so little of that life remained. In truth, though, Beloa had saved Odelli that day at a cost to herself.