Requiem for Beasts (1)
Carmen had brought up the imperial granddaughters. No need to wonder where she'd gotten her information.
"Those girls finally spilled everything, huh."
I lay down beside her just as I was.
"......"
Carmen glanced at me with a startled look for a moment, but my posture remained utterly relaxed.
"Tell me. Their true nature."
"The Empire's Shadows."
Carmen had finally succeeded in extracting every last bit of information from the three I'd sent to Morgania.
"A unit? An organization? They call it simply [Shadow]."
To be precise, the Empire's Shadow.
"They even raise girls qualified to be imperial granddaughters as spies."
"Like replaceable parts you can swap out anytime."
"Just like replacing a broken mainspring in a pocket watch."
But since it had no official designation or even official status as an organization, it was just called 'Shadow.'
"A frightening place, that Empire."
What stories had she heard from the Shadows' own mouths? For Carmen of Morgania to call it 'frightening,' the Empire—no, the crown prince—was utterly ruthless.
"It even made me think you were better by comparison."
"Heavens. Are you seriously comparing me to them?"
"At least you still have some humanity left."
"Me?"
Me?
"Do I really need to say it out loud? That if I set my mind to it, I could do far worse than the Empire without batting an eye?"
"You mean that seriously?"
"......Halfway, maybe?"
Come to think of it, I'd never properly shown her the me from the future. If I had, it would have been when I saved Noir—
"When it comes to enemies I have to kill with my own hands, I think I'm even more ruthless than you imagine."
Those who can be killed. Those who must be killed. When dealing with my foes, I could unleash the traitor Grey inside me without restraint.
"But you don't do that to allies. To family. The Empire has no such distinction."
"If I had to guess."
Though I already know.
"It's because of the Empire's crown prince coming here personally for these negotiations, right?"
"......I just can't understand it. Is it because he's not a woman?"
"Even if they were children he'd birthed himself in agony, he'd treat them the same."
Children are tools. He might even treat them more cruelly. My own flesh and blood, and that's all they amount to? Even if he'd been born a woman, maternal love wouldn't overcome his ambitions. That man valued self-love over family.
"Someone who can use even his own children. Then we respond in kind. Turn their intent to use the child against them."
"So that's why you're keeping the imperial granddaughter close. To improve relations with Gibraltar."
"Yes."
To confirm with Father. To explain to the likes of Robert.
"Frightening. Even exploiting the adults' delusion that you've fallen for the imperial granddaughter."
"That's exactly what it means to use any means necessary."
"Truly a scary one."
I'd have to explain over and over why I kept Astasia around, but Carmen got it.
"Planning to grow up and charm multiple women to achieve your goals?"
"The category of women could include several wives."
"Like now?"
Carmen reached out, poking my cheek.
"Didn't you seduce me by saying you'd make a mother-son bond, not a romantic one?"
"You like it, don't you?"
"Yes. I do. Having you lying here beside me like this—it really feels like I've become your mother, the countess's wife. I can't help but chuckle every time."
Queen Carmen giggled, grabbing my cheek.
"Like I'm dreaming."
"......."
"You tensed up. Think I wouldn't notice?"
"What do you mean?"
"The white powder."
I'd suspected as much, and here it was.
"I wondered what you were hiding that you wouldn't tell me to the end, so I squeezed it out of them at last."
"Squeezed what out?"
"Who knows? It's a secret."
In that instant, Carmen's nail grazed my cheek.
"A magic powder that turns a girl barely strong enough to lift a desk into a powerhouse in seconds."
"Sounds like quite the item."
"But that's at the bottom of their priorities."
Carmen gripped my chin, forcing my head to turn.
"That they were the crown prince's daughters. That they belonged to the Empire's spy organization. That they were numbered and managed by those numbers tattooed on their bodies. That they were to seduce Gibraltar blood and use honey traps to open the canyon gates."
Probably confessed in that order.
"Why did they think that white powder was more important than all that? Any guesses?"
And at the very end, the final confession: Silver Dust.
"I don't get it. What could that powder be to rank above their hidden bloodlines and missions?"
"The manifestation of delusions."
"...Huh?"
"The powder probably has hallucinogenic effects."
I couldn't reveal the actual name Silver Dust (Baek-eun).
"This is top-secret info I haven't even told Father."
But.
"Three years ago, my little brother was kidnapped by a Shadow at the victory celebration."
"I know. That..."
"Yes. The Shadow I killed."
The dead don't speak.
"When I faced him, he blabbed several pieces of info."
Which made it all too easy to fabricate and exploit a dead man's words.
"He said this powder awakens the self you imagine into reality."
"......."
Just like how the crown prince had fabricated Admiral Hailredin's dying words.
"I thought it was drunken nonsense. ravings from someone cornered. But after nearly getting killed by the Whites, I started to guess its effects."
"Like some wish-granting fairy dust?"
"Something like that."
Superhuman strength for those craving physical power. Sweet dreams for those indulging in fantasies.
"No different from a hallucinogen. And this is just speculation, but."
With the topic open, now was the time to plant the seed.
"The powder's raw material seems to involve Somnus flowers."
"What...?"
"After chomping Somnus for three years, I caught a faint whiff."
"......."
"I might not know much, but I can sniff out Somnus like nobody's business."
To sell this persuasion, I'd swallowed over twenty Somnus flowers a day for three years.
"At first I thought it was the dried Somnus I had on me. But their breath reeked of Somnus when they used it. Faint, but no illusion."
"That stuff, could it be..."
"Could it be what?"
"...The Shadow you killed three years ago used the white powder, got hooked, and started mass-cultivating Somnus flowers without realizing?"
"......."
Oh.
"Could be. Haha, does that mean I'm already addicted to Somnus?"
"...Serious Somnus addiction is bad, but only Somnus? Not a huge issue."
Good. Like with Father, three years of effort hadn't been wasted.
"Grey. Since we've handled the Empire's Shadows in Morgania, their eyes are on us now."
Carmen said gravely.
"But if Morgania researches Somnus flowers, they'll think the white powder's been exposed."
The very dilemma I'd mulled when capturing that Shadow three years ago, now from Carmen's lips.
"So leave the Somnus research to you. Request any budget you need."
"You're entrusting the powder research to me?"
"Unlike Morgania with zero controls, you're addicted to Somnus—and the imperial granddaughter. Different story."
Touching the crown prince's secret weapon the same way, but his response level would differ.
"Even if they learn Gibraltar's researching the white powder based on Somnus..."
"They'll think I've already been ensnared, so they'll try tempting me with the 'original' instead?"
"...Be careful not to get addicted. Dangerous drug."
"That's exactly what I want."
More Silver Dust samples.
"Let them come as much as they want."
Someone offering me a taste—that was my true desire right now.
"My convictions aren't so frail as to waver over some drug."
* * *
Someone might want a funeral, but this was the first official diplomatic event between kingdom and Empire in over a decade—a festival, plain and simple. Whether solemn ceremony or booze-and-meat bash.
Today's event: a masquerade ball.
Men in tailcoats. Women in lavish gowns. And masks revealing only the eyes.
This, an official diplomatic event in the kingdom? Historians would later scoff: 'No wonder they fell—look at this nonsense.' And they did fall. Word spread to the Empire, breeding the view: 'If the king's that pathetic, his underlings must be too.'
But no stopping it. This was a monarchy, and the king's power stemmed from threats of doom.
Hell, if Saint Geo Nostrum climbed the walls threatening suicide, Winchester Grand Duke would dive first—not to save him, but to avert the catastrophe of his death.
You dodge shit not because it's scary, but because it's filthy.
No idea if a guillotine would rise in the capital square seven years hence, but for now, the masquerade was on.
"......."
I scanned my reflection top to bottom.
Like any noble: black tailcoat, white shirt, tie—the quintessential kingdom aristocrat. The jewels adorning the tailcoat, the master-crafted cuffs? Carmen's gifts, emblazoned with Morgania's crest.
Grey Gibraltar wouldn't appear here.
Instead, I was a mere interpreter, no title to declare.
'Though no real interpreting needed.'
The crown prince was terrifying. We'd prepared interpreters, but did he need one? No.
Yet I'd chosen to stand as one at this farce, despite endless excuses to refuse. Right beside Carmen.
"Grey."
Queen Carmen approached, her face masked by red butterfly wings.
"Not Grey, Your Majesty."
"Then what's a good name?"
"Less a good name, more a disposable alias."
I donned the special mask I'd commissioned for her.
"Let's go with 'Nachasa.'"
A demon-like half-mask.
"Nachasa...? What does that mean?"
"Nothing at all. Which makes it all the more meaningful."
Shaped like a bat, but embodying a kingdom demon—traitor and vermin.
"Does 'Nachasa' evoke Grey Gibraltar?"
"Not a bit. Especially with the hair and eyes changed like this..."
Carmen alternated glances at my hair and eyes, smiling faintly.
"Anyone would take you for Morgania stock. Might even mistake you for my bastard."
"Who are you fooling?"
"Hmm. Our king, who sees you as Charlotte's son?"
"Should work fine, then."
I checked my dyed black hair, the green eyes inside the mask—disguise magic at work.
"Just worried His Majesty won't say, 'You have your mother's eyes' again."
"No way. You think he really believes your eyes resemble Charlotte's?"
"Of course not."
I knew. Just an excuse to needle Mother.
"Then, Mother dear, shall we?"
"Yes. Let me have an escort at least until the hall."
I took her gloved hand and left the room.
"Must the tie be black?"
"Matches Your Majesty's hair."
"Sigh. Fine. If it's you, no helping it."
The corridor already brimmed with palace and Morgania servants in line. Lively clamor echoed from the hall ahead.
"Let's go in."
Thud, thud.
The moment we entered the hall, the din vanished.
Masks or no, nobles could guess each other's identities.
"His Majesty is..."
Carmen scanned around.
Not absent, but no sign of that signature golden hair and red eyes.
"Tch. Fooling around with disguise magic again."
Carmen clicked her tongue.
"Wonder what role he's playing to harass women this time."
One of the king's pranks. Incompetent he might be, but snaring innocent maidens? Masterful.
'Yet he ghosts them before kids happen—hence the extra incompetence tag.'
Enthrall them, then vanish—leaving broken bodies and hearts. Fury at the king only grew.
Masks made honesty easier now.
Whispers slithered from beneath masks, aimed at Lady Ariana Seirene.
"Mourning garb."
"Yes. Like a widow."
Only Ariana Seirene wore black dress and veil. Her black mask fully shrouded her face, eyes curved downward like weeping.
All the more striking for it.
"He's coming, Your Majesty."
Thud, thud.
At the hall's entrance. Amid lavish ball attire.
"Greetings, nobles of Nostrum."
Black suit, white shirt.
"I'm truly honored by your invitation."
And black tie.
"Hapsburg von Tersian. Crown Prince of the Empire."
No mask whatsoever.
"For the peace of our two nations, I come before you."
He bowed lightly at the center, fluent in kingdom tongue.
"First."
A masquerade of beast masks in every color.
"A moment of silence for the Empire's man who made this gathering possible?"
Only three mourned one man's death, each in their way.
"For peace."