Cruello let out a small laugh.
His voice lowered slightly.
"In truth… there were people who weren’t afraid of me, even though they were weak."
"Who?"
"My first fiancée… and a maid."
"Oh… ah."
I shouldn't have asked.
For once, I was grateful that my expression was hidden from Cruello's view.
"Well, I was a mild child back then, so technically, it’s just the maid. I changed a lot after my fiancée died."
"Hmm, I see."
"You really don’t sound interested."
"It’s not that, it’s just…"
"She was blonde too."
Cruello brushed his fingers through my hair, just barely grazing it.
His voice was slightly subdued but steady, unreadable.
I didn’t know how to react.
I wanted to escape, but since we were riding the same horse, that was impossible.
If this were about someone else, I could at least try to sympathize, but since it was about me…
My heart pounded.
He must have heard it, but Cruello didn’t point it out. Instead—
"You asked me before, didn’t you? If I killed my fiancées."
It was a conversation we had when we left the guild.
"All of them… even the ones who supposedly died from illness."
"Was it because of you?"
"Did you personally kill them?"
"I said no, but that was only half true. My first fiancée died in my place."
I stared straight ahead, unable to answer.
The steady rhythm of hooves filled the silence between us.
"There was poison in my tea. She switched cups with me over something trivial… and then…"
"…"
"If I had drunk it, I wouldn’t have died. But she… she was already sick."
It was a meaningless death.
"Sometimes I wonder what she was thinking in those final moments. Whether she resented me."
"Ah…"
"What about you, darling? How much do you think she hated me?"
It wasn’t a question laced with deep meaning.
I…
Swallowed the lump of emotion rising in my throat. Then I said—
"She didn’t hate you."
It was the truth, yet I could only answer in speculation. That stung.
"I’m a servant of the divine, remember? My intuition is strong. So I can say this with certainty."
I could feel Cruello’s gaze from above.
My stomach twisted, as if I were lying, but for once, I had spoken only the truth.
I whispered something that never reached him.
I didn’t hate you. I never did.
I had known from the start that the tea was poisoned.
I hadn’t been certain at the time, but the ominous aura coming from the cup was unmistakable.
I had planned to knock over the teacup entirely, but I realized it wouldn’t matter.
There was no guarantee that they wouldn’t serve poisoned tea again if Amy hadn’t been there that day.
So instead, I had wanted to teach Cruello to be cautious.
Besides, at the time, Amy’s lifespan was already nearing its end.
It was the first time I had inhabited another body, let alone a child’s.
I had carelessly overused my divine power, worsening the disconnect between body and soul. That accelerated Amy’s decline.
So, if I was going to die anyway, I figured I might as well make my death meaningful.
No.
That was only half an excuse. A lie.
While I was Amy, I had received a revelation from the gods.
[Stay silent.]
I could not speak of the truth—I was only meant to guide Cruello.
I had been exhausted.
Lying to a child who only looked at me with pure affection was draining.
Maybe I wasn’t as heartless as I thought.
I had been alone for so long that even his clumsy affection had hurt.
And so, that deceptive self-rationalization crept into my mind.
I’ve almost undone his conditioning. This boy isn’t like the villain from the book. Maybe it’s okay now.
At the time, I had thought possession was a one-time thing.
If Amy died, that was it.
No more guilt, no more burdens—I could end it here.
In a way, it had been suicide.
It was only later that I realized how wrong I had been.
But by then, it was too late.
"That would be nice," Cruello murmured, scattering my thoughts.
I exhaled softly, as if breathing out negativity.
I shouldn’t dwell on this.
"Amy. That was her name."
"…Yeah."
"This is the first time I’ve talked about this. I lived too obsessively. It felt like everyone in the world was a spy from the Elder Council."
A devotee of an ancient god who knew how to defend herself—of course, that was someone Cruello had never encountered before.
Wanting to change the atmosphere, I raised my tone.
"Well, you don’t meet people as reliable as me every day. I mean, who else has my looks, personality, and abilities?"
"True."
Cruello’s immediate agreement made my words sound strangely arrogant.
Wait, did I just end up bragging?
No, it’s not arrogance if it’s true.
"Then I’ll give you a chance to prove yourself."
"An honor, but how exactly?"
"I’ve lost all feeling in my lower half. Cast a spell to remove the pain."
"Is there such a spell?"
"There isn’t? Really? I thought magic could do anything!"
"You rely too much on magic."
"No… no, you can’t say that! Tell me it exists!"
"It exists."
"Really?"
"Really."
Cruello snapped his fingers.
Instantly, all the soreness in my lower body vanished.
…Wow. That actually worked?
Cruello laughed softly.
Half of me was amazed. The other half was resentful that he hadn't used this spell sooner.
But whatever.
"Use it again on the way back, too."
My body and mind both felt significantly lighter.
There was still a lingering sense of unease, but I was used to that by now.
Stay light. Stay cheerful. Stay carefree!
The smile I forced felt slightly awkward.
***
The Bonetti Territory. Whistle.
The name alone conjured images of a peaceful countryside village.
In reality, Whistle was an imposing city, with a low mountain range to the back and a sharp peninsula jutting toward the sea.
Because of that, the checkpoint line was long.
We bypassed it with magic.
The place was riddled with detection spells, but if we had been the type to get caught by them, we would have been exposed back at the Harvest Festival.
Some people bribed their way through, but Cruello’s face was too well-known. If he was recognized, it would be reported to the higher-ups.
And whose fault was that? May Pebula have mercy.
I pulled my hood down as low as possible to keep my face hidden.
"Your darling brother entered the castle."
"I’m not following him. I just need to sneak in at dawn, find the ancestor’s journal, and leave."
I had made up my mind again while we were riding.
I wasn’t someone who should be getting attached to people.
Gavotte must have some plan to handle this situation himself. I just needed to slip in, get what I came for, and slip out.
"If that’s your plan," Cruello nodded without further comment.
The sun was already setting, so we decided to find an inn.
An old man with a triangular bandana greeted us.
Then, he uttered those words.
"There’s only one room left. Will that be a problem?"
"…Seriously? Why?"
"Why else? The Count just passed away. People have been pouring in for the funeral."
No wonder the streets were so crowded.
Considering how many people made their livelihood off Bonetti affairs, it was no surprise they could fill an entire town.
Such was the influence of high nobility.
I hesitated, wondering if we should try somewhere else, but the old man must have sensed my hesitation because he quickly added—
"Just take the room. It’ll be the same everywhere."
"Hmm."
"In a little while, we’ll have nothing left either. From the way you two look at each other, you’re close, aren’t you? Might as well—"
"We'll take it! We'll take it!"
"Geez, no need to shout."
Grumbling, the old man handed us the key.
Naturally, Cruello paid.
I had no money. I was glad he had come along.
After securing the room, we decided to eat before heading up.
"Two bowls of chicken stew!"
The difference from what I was used to in the mansion was immediate.
But I was hungry.
As I lifted my spoon, I felt eyes on me.
It was Cruello, resting his chin on his hand.
"What?"
"Aren’t you going to say grace?"
"No. That’s not really a thing in—"
"Young one! You have to say grace before eating, or your parents would be furious!"
Oh.
I had forgotten. It had been a thing once.
"I mean, it used to be, but it faded over time. Just an old custom now."
I wasn’t wrong.
Cruello didn’t comment further, and I took a spoonful of stew.
It was passable.
Cruello didn’t even touch his.
Considering I had to sneak into the castle at dawn, I needed to eat.
But honestly, eavesdropping on the other conversations was more entertaining.
The variety of topics was impressive.
Who in which town was absolute garbage, how to seduce someone in three minutes, someone chasing off a debt collector with a plow—
And then—
"So, the young lord is here?"
"He must be. He’s supposed to inherit the title. He even brought the Count’s remains back himself."
Minuet’s name had come up.
Without making it obvious, I glanced over.
Two merchants. Faces flushed red from drinking, eyes unfocused.
"Then, she’ll be the new Count? I heard she isn’t married yet."
"The higher-ups are in a bind over that."
Not a very flattering reputation.
"It’d be perfect if she married the Third Elder’s son. You know, Mikael."
"Good man, that one. But why hasn’t she married yet? I get that we common folk don’t care, but nobility is different, right?"
"She’s still young. You know how kids are at that age—they hate being told the obvious."
"Sigh. Not that we can say anything to the higher-ups. Honestly, I wish Mikael would just become the Count instead."
"Hey! You’re drunk! What the hell are you saying?"
The other merchant, suddenly alert, clamped a hand over his friend’s mouth.
The conversation ended there.
I turned back to my half-finished stew.
But my ears remained open.
With so many people packed in, there was plenty to hear.
Even when they didn’t outright voice their opinions like those two, it was clear—
The public sentiment toward Minuet wasn’t great.
She had spent most of her life at the capital estate, so the Bonetti Elder Council must have shaped the narrative against her.
But if they were this blatant about it… was she really in that much trouble?
"Are you worried?"
"No!"
I immediately shouted in response to Cruello’s question.