The Mousetrap Is Set
“Hmph. And after I went through all the trouble of asking sister Navira to make the trip, too.”
Bibi sniffled, her pouting cheeks glowing as red as ripe apples.
“…Just when did you become so close with the master of Hecate’s Tavern, Bibi?”
“Hmm, with a little information and a whole lot of sincerity?”
Bibi gave a cheeky wink. Despite himself, a quiet chuckle escaped Raymon’s lips.
“Anyway, Bibi is asking a favor. No, it’s an order! Sister Titania, oldest brother Raymon, and second brother Lisianthus—all of you have to come back safe and sound without a single scratch! If you don’t, I’m going to scold you.”
“Now that is truly terrifying.”
“You’re strong, Raymon. That’s why you have to hold on to sister Titania. Don’t let her go.”
“……”
At times, Raymon found himself harboring a very reasonable suspicion: that their youngest sister was, in truth, more perceptive than anyone else in the world.
She was cheerful, affectionate, and bright, always greeting the world with an easy smile. Yet behind that sunny disposition lay an uncanny ability to read people’s hearts. At least within their family, no one ever treated her as a mere child. Even Lasper, renowned as a young prodigy and sage, invariably listened closely whenever Bibi spoke.
Her crystal-clear blue eyes—gleaming like sunlight scooped from silver ripples over a flowing river—blinked repeatedly.
“Well, if sister Titania gets angry, it’ll obviously be oldest brother’s fault anyway.”
“…Bibi.”
“What else can we say? We’re the ones who wronged her first.”
“……”
“Sister Titania will probably say we did nothing wrong. …I suppose that’s only natural if she’s made up her mind to live as strangers. But she’s someone who reached out and saved us with her own hands, even after we were the ones to shove hers away. She really is far too kind.”
Never once had Bibi forgotten Titania’s smile—the smile she had worn while saving Bibi’s life, fully prepared to embrace her own death in exchange.
‘……So I just wanted to tell Mother that she can be at peace now. That’s all I ask.’
It’s all right. Don’t worry. Even if I die in your place, there’s nothing wrong with that. So you have no reason to be sad.
‘…Young Duke Raymon will be all right now, too. That brother of yours whom you love so dearly… he’ll be fine…’
How could someone on the brink of death have such complete disregard for herself? How could she harbor no lingering attachments, no regrets at all? Was she truly content with leaving no place for herself anywhere in this world?
To her very last breath, all she left behind was concern for the living. Even toward the biological mother who had never once extended a warm hand in her entire life, Titania had sought to understand her, acknowledging that at the very least, her mother had tried to watch over her from afar.
And even after coming back to life, she remained the same.
Whenever anyone offered her a gift, an overwhelming look of discomfort washed over her face. She couldn’t bear the thought of anyone suffering a loss on her account—as though she believed she was fundamentally unworthy of receiving kindness without paying a price.
Yet Titania herself had saved Bibi without demanding anything in return.
To be honest, Bibi thought it would hardly have been surprising if Titania had slapped Raymon across the cheek each time he steadily tried to approach her. Instead, Titania had simply remained on guard, drawing firm boundaries with calm, detached words as unyielding as a freshly mortared stone wall. The talk of breaking the engagement had been the exact same.
She was simply far too gentle of a person—so gentle that she couldn’t bring herself to truly, entirely hate even the people who had hurt her.
“So we have to protect her. Right?”
Hearing the heavy weight underlying his youngest sister’s words, Raymon nodded in silent resolve.
Though night had fallen, the streets were as bright as midday.
A festive clamor filled the air. With the evening air remaining warm and balmy, most of the crowd was dressed in short sleeves and lightweight linen. Stalls selling casual festival street food, flowers, fresh fruit, and assorted trinkets lined one side of the thoroughfare in a lively procession.
Polished, elegantly lacquered carriages rolled steadily along the well-paved avenue. Across the square, acrobats performed stunts for spare coins, while street troupes and wandering minstrels pitched makeshift tents to entertain the gathering onlookers. While commoners made up the bulk of the throng, figures identifiable as nobles strolled among them here and there.
Brimming with crowds no matter where one looked, it bore all the hallmarks of a grand metropolis.
As I found myself unconsciously mesmerized by the bustling streetscape, Phlux stared at me with an expression that practically screamed he had something to say.
“…Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Do you wish to go out and enjoy yourself, Your Highness?”
“Skipping work to fool around is everyone’s dream.”
“And yet…”
Phlux’s gaze grew ambiguous. Debbie, too, wore a look tinged with quiet pity.
“Your Imperial Highness, you haven’t gone sightseeing even once since arriving in this city. Are you truly all right?”
“We have our hands full today. Now isn’t the time to throw a tantrum.”
“It wouldn’t be a tantrum at all… Surely you could take some leisure if you found a moment? Your eyes haven’t left the window, after all.”
“Nope, I’m done looking.”
After all, with the soul of a twenty-first-century modern person, I had watched every kind of blockbuster movie! I had hung out and had my fair share of fun! Even though I’d never managed to travel overseas… anyway, having enjoyed cutting-edge CGI that put reality to shame, I could certainly endure a spectacle of this scale.
Right. It was no big deal.
Apparently, the mind was far more swayed by the body than one might think. Because ‘Titania’ had grown up virtually confined to the Imperial Palace, the sight of a vibrant night street held an unexpectedly alluring pull.
It was only because the memories of my previous life illuminated my mind like a lantern that I maintained my composure. If it had been the original, wild-horse Titania, I could bet anything she would have thrown a massive fit, screaming, “I want that! Let me out!”
Come to think of it, she had hardly ever met a decent boy her age either.
Aside from Raymon, that was.
Still… if only someone had introduced her to a peer who treated her with gentle kindness, taught her how the world worked, and gave her a reality check. Would she have avoided becoming so terribly obsessed with Raymon?
Then again, anyone with working eyes could see that Raymon exuded a commanding presence that no peer could ever hope to rival. The chances of a thoroughly infatuated Titania ever looking at someone else were slim to none.
Straightening my posture, I pulled my gaze away from the carriage window. Phlux asked in a tone that seemed to double-check my resolve.
“Will we truly be able to pull this off?”
“Isn’t it a bit too late to start worrying now?”
“Well, with the intelligence supplied by Hecate’s Tavern and the Castrein family guards watching our back, the likelihood of danger is undoubtedly low, but still…” Phlux clicked his tongue. “You must exercise the utmost caution. As massive as this city is, neither my father nor I have ever neglected it, nor is our house lacking in capability. And given that Your Highness personally cured me, those scoundrels certainly won’t be able to harm you easily. Even so, one can never be too sure.”
“That’s why I’m bundled up and going in full disguise, isn’t it?”
I shrugged.
Tonight, we were infiltrating the black market. Specifically, attending as customers at the very auction where the audacious thief who stole the Emoticon Sword from the princess was planning to put it up for bidding.
Because my appearance drew far too much attention, my platinum-blonde locks were meticulously pinned up and tucked away beneath a dark brown wig. Just as I had disguised myself when visiting the frontier branch of Hecate’s Tavern, I dotted my face with artificial freckles and blemishes, finishing off the look with a pair of spectacles that partially shielded my eyes.
My attire was likewise utterly unremarkable: a baggy blouse and skirt topped with a hooded robe that concealed my entire figure.
Debbie and Phlux were dressed similarly. Lisianthus, who was likely trailing close behind us, would be sporting much the same look. His flaming red hair stood out far too prominently, forcing him to don a wig just like me, but he had whined incessantly about feeling suffocated. It was enough to make even me want to smack him across the head.
“In any case, please keep your guard up until the very end.”
The carriage slowed to a gentle crawl before coming to a halt.
The door swung open, and Phlux stepped out first to escort me. Debbie trailed closely behind, slipping through the shadows without drawing a single eye.
The entrance leading to the black market was nothing more than the ground floor of an ordinary-looking tavern. The moment we stepped inside, an attendant in formal livery approached to greet us.
“Pardon me, esteemed guests, but our establishment operates strictly by reservation. May I have the name under which your reservation was made?”
“The blue room on the third floor should be vacant, shouldn’t it?”
“My apologies, sir. The third floor is completely booked today.”
“The red room on the fourth floor as well?”
“Whatever shall we do? On an evening like this, we have an exceptionally large number of patrons…”
“Then we shall have to go in between.”
“Right this way, please.”
The attendant led us down an exceedingly narrow hallway. At its end stood three doors. Without the slightest hesitation, Phlux reached for the middle door, twisted its purple knob, and pushed it open.
Inside waited another attendant, who silently took over and guided us onward without uttering a single word.
After walking along an endlessly dark, hushed passage for some time, an expansive chamber opened up before our eyes. It was a cavernous auditorium, complete with a massive stage and seating arrayed before it.
Adorning the walls and pillars throughout the hall were none other than glowing Magic Crystals. Partition walls and draped curtains stood between the tables, creating private booths designed so that guests could scarcely discern who was seated next to them. The attendant escorted us to one of these secluded spots before taking his leave.
Before long, a masked boy working as a server scurried over, placed a small bottle of liquor and a glass onto the table, and melted into the shadows. I casually pulled the glass toward me. Hidden beneath its base was a piece of paper, folded in half twice.
The message written on the slip was brief:
The mousetrap is set.