Chapter 94

Chapter 94

Late at night, when everyone must have been asleep, I slipped out of my room. I walked down the corridor and reached the spot with the crooked painting. An eerie chill began to crawl across my skin. Swallowing my tension, I reached out and straightened the frame. And there, almost as if it were inevitable, Luka materialized.

He turned to me the moment he appeared, his eyes hollow. His expression read, ‘You again?’ but he didn’t seem as angry as before.

“Luka, how was it for you?”

He was a boy Lady Bandark had picked up off the streets when she was young. There must have been a vast rift between him and his noble mistress, which might have hindered their love.

“…”

Luka didn’t answer. He just cocked his head, as if my words—without any context or explanation—made no sense to him. Then he suddenly stepped a few paces closer to me. A cold sensation spread from my forehead, and my vision began to fill with black. Against my will, I was being possessed again.

‘Again? Maybe too many souls have been coming in and out of my body, leaving empty space. It feels like possession has gotten way too easy.’

I sank beneath dark eyelids, feeling rather flustered.

“Why do you think I called you?”

After a moment, a thin, delicate voice reached my ears. My vision brightened, and I saw Lady Bandark stepping into view.

She wore a shawl over her thin nightgown, her long hair hanging loose. It was the same image of her I’d glimpsed in Luka’s memory, the last one left. It seemed the memory that had been cut off then was resuming now.

“Young Lady……”

Luka called her in a low, hushed voice. His gaze traced down over Lady Bandark’s eyes, her nose, her lips. She laughed softly, looking up at him.

“Mm? What is it?”

“Young Lady, you’re even more precious because you’re beautiful.”

Huh? Was that supposed to be a compliment?

His words were oddly grating. The Lady seemed to sense something strange about them too. Her expression tightened slightly.

* * *

When he pushed open the reddish-brown door, he saw people bustling about, cooking. Luka wove through them, grabbed a loaf of bread sitting on the table, and bit into it.

“In here again, stuffing your face like you own the place.”

A middle-aged man with a distinctive white beard scolded him, sounding exasperated.

“It’d just go to waste anyway. And your cooking is too good, head chef—can’t help myself. You should make it a little less tasty.”

“Tch. If you can’t talk right, don’t talk at all.”

Ignoring the chef’s irritated voice, Luka hopped up to sit on the table. Then he watched the people busily preparing food while chewing the bread slowly.

“I heard the Young Lady’s been taking you around lately. That true?”

A maid peeling potatoes at the table looked up at him and asked.

“Yeah. The Young Lady says she feels comfortable and good with me.”

“Where does she take you, anyway?”

“Well… we went to a concert hall, and once to an art gallery…”

But just then, the bread he’d been wolfing down caught in his throat, cutting him off. Luka stopped mid-sentence and thumped his chest. The head chef quickly handed him a cup of milk; he took it, drank, and only then let out a long sigh.

“I was!”

He nodded in satisfaction, finishing his sentence with a small bow of his head.

“The gallery, you say… The young lady recently bought a strange painting. Were you with her then?”

The chef patted his back and asked. The question pulled my mind to the tilted painting at Kovershalden—abstract in a land of portraits and still lifes, an oddity that earned its strange reputation.

“A strange painting? Which one, Chef? The young lady buys so many.”

“That one hanging outside her room now. Looks like a child’s doodle.”

“Ah, the one with just colors? Yes, that came from the gallery I went to with her.”

“Is that so? The young lady truly is peculiar, paying good money for something like that.”

“Why? It is odd, but doesn’t it feel nice? I liked the strong colors…”

“Spending time with the young lady has rubbed off on you—now you share her odd tastes. Enough. Since you’re here, peel some potatoes.”

The chef snatched the milk glass from Luka’s hand. Luka answered with a cheerful “Yessir,” then hopped off the table. He settled beside the maid who was already peeling potatoes and began his own work.

“Luka. What about you?”

The maid edged closer, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“What about me?”

“Do you like being with the young lady too?”

“Of course.”

“……Why?”

“She’s beautiful. What’s not to like about being with her?”

“She’s not *that* beautiful, is she? Honestly…”

The maid answered with a sour twist of her lips, then bit down as if she’d misspoken.

“The young lady isn’t someone to be judged by her face alone. It’s not just her face—it’s her presence, her manner, everything together that makes her beautiful. I felt that the first time I saw her. That day I nearly starved to death.”

Luka waved the potato in his hand, his gestures theatrical, as if delivering a speech to convey his thoughts.

“……Listen, Luka. Don’t set your heart on the young lady.”

She kept her eyes forward as she spoke.

“Huh?”

“Think about it. What do we gain from loving those above us? People like us only lose more than we enjoy the moment.”

“What? No. I’ve never dared think of her that way. To me, the young lady is…”

He raised his voice abruptly, then trailed off, as if caught by a thought. He nodded to himself and added,

“Sanctuary. Yeah, a sanctuary.”

“……What are you on about? Our kingdom’s only religion is Sun God ‘Shion’.”

“That’s a metaphor. Anyway, that’s what she is to me.”

* * *

I opened my eyes beneath the tilted shadow. The moment I returned to reality, the sound that escaped my lips was this.

“What the… this is…”

If what Luka felt for Madam Bandark could be called love, then perhaps it was. But it seemed a different kind than what she had held for him.

‘I never even thought of this…’

I turned on my heel and headed straight for the room with the lake. The Madam, submerged beneath the water, rose as I entered and turned to look at me. But a torrent of water was still gushing from her mouth.

They say if you don’t keep your wits about you, it’s hard to hold onto the form you had in life—and it seemed this was exactly that state. She spat out water wildly for a moment, then, all at once, swallowed a gulp of air down her throat.

“You came?”

She looked at me and asked, that warm smile still on her face.

“Yes.”

I scurried over to her. Then, sifting through Luka’s memories, I opened my mouth.

“Madam. Please show me some of your memories.”

“Huh?”

“Ones related to Luka…”

“Look at memories? You can do that?”

“Yes…! Actually, I’ve been able to since I was little.”

“Hmm~ You’re fascinating. So? You need memories of Luka?”

Her eyes went wide as she asked me. Of course, my purpose for looking at those memories was clear: to compare Luka’s and the Madam’s memories and get a clear picture of the situation. I hoped that even that might yield a solution for the ascension of the two of them.

“It’s because… uh… if I can learn information about Luka that way… then I can use that to find out more about him…”

But I couldn’t tell her the truth, so I had no choice but to fudge it. Eventually, I’d have to tell her about Luka’s death, but for now, I just couldn’t bring myself to say it.

“Mm. Well, you don’t even know what Luka looks like. Fine. I’ll show you Luka.”

Thankfully, she answered readily. Then she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against mine. A chill spread through my entire body at once.

When I opened my eyes again, a woman with neatly kept black hair sat before my view. Her transparent blue eyes and striking features felt strangely familiar—her face resembled the Duke’s so closely.

‘Huh? Could it be the Madam?’

Madam Bandark was friends with the Madam. So I was certain that the woman who looked so much like the Duke must be the Madam.

‘Wow. She’s beautiful. So the Duke takes after his mother.’

The only difference was that her expression was a bit softer; other than that, their features and coloring looked like they’d been stamped from the same mold. I found it fascinating as I stared at the Madam through Madam Bandark’s eyes.

“Now that I think of it, your wedding day must be just around the corner, isn’t it?”

The madam parted her crimson lips and looked at me—no, at Lady Bandark—and spoke.

“Yeah. That’s right. But I’m… a little worried.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to live well with my fiancé.”

“Don’t worry too much, Karina. You’ll do just fine.”

“…You’re right. You’re doing well, aren’t you? There’s no reason I can’t…”

The lady answered in a voice that seemed to sink, then lifted the teacup set before her. Over the dark tea, her face—heavy with gloom—flickered faintly on the surface.

For a moment, she seemed to watch her own eyes drowning in the tea. Then she raised her head again to face the madam.

“Oh, and your child—is she all right now? Have you named her yet?”

“Thankfully, she’s gotten a little better. That’s why I could leave her with the nanny and come see you. Still, I think I’ll be spending a lot of time on her care from now on… I just have to hope she grows stronger as she gets older. And yes, I’ve named her. Look.”

The madam raised her index finger and traced letters across the table. Lady Bandark followed her finger with her eyes.

“Illiaje?”