Delusion (25)

Night passed. Estelle stirred and sat up in bed.

The darkness had lifted. Pale dawn light crept through the window.

She stared at the ceiling for a long time without a word.

I had already finished a pipe.

"Sleep well?"

Estelle couldn't answer. She dragged the blanket up to her chin and hid her face. The tips of her ears, visible above the edge, were red.

"...I didn't."

After a long moment of hesitation, she threw on some clothes and left the room.

"I'm going to wash up."

The door clicked shut. Stillness settled back into the room.

I sat in the chair beside the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bed and finished the rest of the wine. Traces of last night lay scattered everywhere—the sheets faintly stained with blood and still damp, ashes on the carpet, wine glasses and biscuit crumbs strewn around.

Servants entered not long after. Silent, moving through familiar motions, they began to tidy the room. They stripped the soiled sheets and opened the windows to air the room out.

By the time the room was clean again, Estelle had returned. She had washed thoroughly and dressed in neat clothes. A faint scent of soap rose from her damp hair.

She stood in front of me, hesitated a moment, then spoke.

"Last night. How was it?"

Her voice had a slight thickness to it.

"Good."

I answered flatly.

Estelle furrowed her brow slightly, as if the answer didn't satisfy her.

"Not that. I'm asking how it was compared to the other women."

"I've never done that with anyone else."

Estelle studied me for a moment. A faint smile touched the corner of her mouth.

"You know that's honestly hard to believe, right?"

"There was no love."

At my words, her smile vanished. She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around me tight.

"You're not disappointed?"

"How could I be disappointed?"

Warmth radiated from her body.

"You won't leave my side, will you?"

Estelle whispered.

I hesitated, just slightly. Then I answered.

"Yeah."

She looked at me with an expression that was almost sad, but she smiled anyway. She said ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she was suddenly exhausted, as if all the tension had drained out of her. She told me she'd rest in the room and fell back asleep.

I headed toward the study, thinking I might read something.

The study was thick with the smell of paper and ink. Levina sat with her head in her hands, buried under a mountain of documents. She looked up at the sound of my footsteps. Her face was hollow with fatigue.

"I keep going back and forth about whether I'm supposed to call you Family Head every time I see you."

Levina's voice carried a faint edge of sarcasm.

"Just call me Ravin."

I scanned the bookshelves for a while, then pulled out a book at random.

"You look busy."

"Of course I'm busy. The Family Head did absolutely nothing and dumped all the work on his underlings."

She set down her pen and leaned back in her chair.

"Ravin, I'm serious. We might have to run soon. Demons have reached the outskirts of the territory."

"If we run from here, where do we go? The capital? The edge of the continent? If we're at the point of collapse, everywhere else would have fallen long ago, wouldn't it, sister?"

"...It's already fallen."

She dipped her pen in ink and started writing again.

"But they'll hold out much longer than we will here. We're requisitioning food, but it isn't going smoothly. Even now, the place is swarming with people doing everything they can to avoid paying taxes to you."

Levina let out a sigh.

"So is this how it ends? The Saintess takes everything from me, and I die without ever having done anything with you."

She muttered the words and pressed her brow hard with her free hand.

I moved to leave the room. Levina called after me.

"Ravin."

I turned. She was watching me. A knot of complicated emotions sat in her eyes.

"You know things are getting dangerous around here. Just take Estelle and run, even if it's just the two of you."

"I'll think about it."

I gave her that answer, picked up the book, and walked to the greenhouse.

The greenhouse was still quiet. Sunlight streamed through the glass ceiling and stretched long across the floor. I read my book and drank the tea Rineta brought. A leisurely stretch of time.

Then the noise started up again outside.

"Should I close the windows and the greenhouse door, Young Master?"

Rineta asked.

I closed the book and told her to shut them.

These days, almost daily, the territory's residents gathered in front of the manor grounds with torches and farming tools, demanding we ease the requisitions, begging for scraps of food. A few days ago, a group had screamed curses at me and tried to bring down the iron gates, ready to spike a head on a pitchfork. The knights cut their throats. After that, they only milled around out front without daring to approach, but the noise was the same.

I took a sip of tea and set the cup down. The sound had faded without me even noticing. I could almost grasp how the nobles felt during the revolution—acting as if nothing was wrong, staying still. None of what was happening now felt like my problem. Maybe it was because I knew death would just reset everything.

Rineta finished closing the doors and came back.

"They come every day now. At least the guards keep them from getting close."

She pulled up a chair across from me without ceremony, sat down, and started nibbling on a cookie.

"Anyway, Young Master, there's something I've been meaning to ask."

Her voice had a slightly subdued quality.

"Since the first time we met, you've carried this scent. Thick and musty. Exactly the same as my village."

"Scent?"

"Yes. A scent."

This time, instead of reaching for another cookie, she laid her hand lightly over the back of mine.

"Are you sure you've never been somewhere like our village? A cave, maybe. Or a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠huge tree in the middle of a forest?"

I shook my head.

"The world you wished ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for is coming, Young Master. Surely you must have had to deal with quite a few people..."

Her words were trailing off, weighted with meaning, when a scream rang out from the corridor.

Kyaaah!

I turned toward the sound.

The same group that had come to the estate during the wedding was approaching around the corner of the hallway. Kyle. The female knight from before. Serepina. And a great many rough-looking men. A crowd of people who didn't seem particularly suitable for a frail, soft person like me to converse with.

I grabbed Rineta, bolted from the greenhouse, and moved fast.

A few guards and the knights who protected the manor tried to block them, but it was clearly futile. They weren't cut down—they were subdued in an instant. I'd planned to hold out until Estelle arrived, but even that didn't look easy. I never imagined the oh-so-proud knights who strutted around in my childhood would collapse so uselessly.

Kyle closed in fast. Soon he was close enough that a single push off the ground would bring him within reach.

I steadied my breathing, positioned Rineta in front of me, and drew the revolver I always carried at my waist. Pressed the muzzle to the back of her head.

"Please, just hand over succession to Lady Levina now, Duke Edelgard. The situation is urgent. I'm willing to overlook bloodshed."

Kyle spoke.

"And what about the demons?"

"...That is precisely why I'm asking you to hand it over to Lady Levina now."

"Would anything really change if I handed it to Levina?"

"Lady Levina may not know the extent of the suffering your rule has caused, but at the very least she won't starve the soldiers. That alone buys us a few more years. Time to find an opening..."

I cut Kyle off.

"That much is probably true."

He stared at me blankly when I agreed, as if asking why I wouldn't accept it even knowing that. It occurred to me then—Kyle wasn't using a condescending tone with me. That was deeply strange.

"Though, was your manner of speech always like this? Ah, did you maybe pick up a title at some point?"

Kyle only watched me. No answer. There was no anger or hatred on his face toward me. Just exhaustion. Worn thin. And it wasn't just Kyle—everyone there looked the same.

"Think of the people who share your life..."

"I mean, we're all going to die anyway. And I honestly don't see what you could possibly do about any of this. I don't really know how you'd even go about solving it."

As I spoke, I stepped closer to Rineta and groped her chest right in front of Kyle.

"So don't live so wearily. Give up on everything, enjoy yourself a little, and accept the end."

At first, Kyle stayed still. But when Rineta let out a small moan, his expression hardened. He gripped his sword fiercely. Then he launched himself toward me, as if Rineta's life didn't matter at all.

Afraid that losing a hand or taking a blade might make me accidentally pull the trigger on her, I gave up and raised my hands. The incoming blade didn't stop. I saw the edge drifting toward my neck in slow motion.

But it never reached my throat.

As Kyle lunged forward, sword extended, the hand holding the blade flew off at the wrist. A spear materialized behind him and pierced through his chest.

Serepina stood there, clutching her chest, her face blank, tears streaming down. She had bitten her lower lip so hard it bled. Blood gathered at her chin, then dripped to the floor.

"...Ah. Th-this wasn't... wasn't what I... m-meant to do."

She was looking at me. Only at me.