TNMN 21

Chapter 21

“She knows about that ring?”

“I’m not sure if it’s true, but she didn’t seem to be lying.”

A noble lady had barged into a trading company and offered to trade information. And of all places, she had come to the one he operated in secret?

It could be dismissed as coincidence, but what the lady had said to him was definitely bothering him.

*’Could she really have received a revelation from the god Saeyibi?’*

Recalling Alosha, who had never averted her eyes even while fearing him, Whistler decided, quite unusually, to postpone his judgment once more—to confirm whether she had truly come to him under divine revelation, or if she had some ulterior motive.

“Have you heard of something called the Saeyibi Cult?”

It was a cult the head of O’Clare had never heard of in his life, but he couldn’t possibly say that to Whistler’s face. Breaking out in a cold sweat, he groveled.

“Ah, yes! The Saeyibi Cult! I know it well! It’s a cult that’s been growing quite large recently, right? W-we’ve been keeping an eye on it too, but there’s nothing concrete known yet…….”

“…Is that so? Then look into the cult a bit.”

“Y-yes, sir! I’ll definitely find out!”

“And send a carriage to the Nocturne household tomorrow.”

With those words, Whistler gestured with his chin, indicating he should leave.

—

As soon as Alosha returned home, she skipped her meal and shut herself in her room. Thinking about the Duke who said he would send a carriage tomorrow, she let out deep sighs. She looked down at the paper on which she had written the elaborate plans she had set up to seduce the Duke.

“I should have just insisted I loved him.”

If she had done that, she could have at least taken parts of her pre-established plans and somehow patched things together.

“Why did it have to be religion that popped into my head at that moment…….”

If there are things in this world one shouldn’t touch, they are sports, politics, and religion. They reflect personal tastes most clearly, groups form easily around them, and wars can break out over differences of opinion—which is why incorporating them into a work carries great risk. Adding religion to her friend’s novel, already rife with war and political intrigue, made it feel further and further from a sweet, pink romance. Alosha felt gloomy.

“If it’s come to this, maybe I should go for an R-rated approach…….”

When one’s mind is in turmoil, it tends to run to extremes.

Alosha’s burning enthusiasm also cooled as she recalled Whistler, who had tried to kill her just yesterday. She shook her head.

“If I do that, I’ll die.”

She was making all this fuss just to stay alive—if she went too boldly and ended up dead, what a hollow ending that would be.

With no particularly good ideas coming to mind, Alosha started weaving lies based on the words she had carelessly thrown out.

The negative part was that the story she had to carry forward was tangled. The positive part was that since her friend wrote this work, she could predict the future story based on her friend’s personality.

“Alright, don’t lose heart. Let’s try again.”

Not long after she made that resolution, Annie came to summon her at impeccable timing.

“Miss, a carriage has arrived from the ducal residence.”

As she went down to the first floor, her brother was there, letting out deep sighs with a worried expression.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come along?”

“I can do well on my own. Don’t worry.”

Even though she gave the same answer to the question he’d asked over a hundred times, Alosha replied with a smile.

“No, it’s not right. I should go with you…”

“I heard you have a meeting with Lady Amber. Keeping a lady waiting is not a gentleman’s virtue.”

Instead of threatening that she wouldn’t let him off if he followed, dropping the name of Lady Amber, who had won the bid for her brother, was the right answer. After reassuring Alexis, who let out a low groan, and finally getting on the carriage, Alosha slumped in her seat and sighed.

The ducal carriage was plusher than the one from the Nocturne household, but comfortable or not, a carriage was a carriage. It jolted every time it picked up speed, and her body swayed with every turn. Moreover, there was no smartphone, no book, nor anyone to talk to inside the carriage, which could have been boring, but for Alosha, this empty space was perfect for letting her imagination run wild.

*’With a man and woman alone in a space this size, there’s plenty of room for romance!’*

She imagined scenes where they developed subtle feelings while riding together, or where something intimate happened in the swaying carriage. She had conjured up about four different stories in her mind when, with a jolt, the carriage stopped.

“We have arrived at the ducal residence.”

Guided by the knight, Alosha stood before the door to the Duke’s room, clenching her fists slightly in nervousness.

“……You’re late.”

Seeing Whistler’s annoyed face, Alosha felt wronged.

“I came as soon as the carriage arrived, but you say I’m late? The road must have been longer than I thought.”

She tried to plead her innocence, but Duke Whistler, with an indifferent expression, gestured with his chin towards the sofa opposite him.

“Sit.”

As Alosha took her seat, Whistler stared at her intently, then furrowed his brow.

“How’s your body?”

“I’ve fully recovered, thanks to the blessing of the god Saeyibi.”

Alosha placed her right hand on her chest and smiled faintly. In truth, she had nothing to do with gods or religion, but right now, she was practically a saint of the Saeyibi Cult—so it was time to adopt the belief that if things went well, it was divine grace, and if not, it was a lack of faith.

“Yes, so continue with what you were saying yesterday about loving me and all that.”

At Whistler’s words, Alosha, as if she had been waiting, put on a wistful expression and began to speak.

“It was exactly a week ago. I lay in my bed as usual, said my prayers to the god Saeyibi, and fell asleep. Then, in my dream, I saw a very young boy with silver hair.”

As she said this, Alosha looked at Whistler.

*’Here, take a breath.’*

Then, deliberately not blinking, she looked towards the sunlit window.

“The child stood alone with an expressionless face, and he looked so lonely.”

Just as her eyes began to moisten from not blinking, Whistler let out a scoff and spoke.

“So you’re doing all this because of a stupid dream?”

Yesterday it was a divine revelation, and now she claimed to have seen him in a dream. Blaming himself for having been momentarily swayed by such insane nonsense, he was about to rise from his seat when Alosha hastily spoke up.

“A stupid dream! That child was definitely you, Duke Whistler!”

“Ha…….”

“You grew up from a young age under the complete indifference of the late Duke, didn’t you? I also saw all the misfortunes you’ve suffered since then. I understand why you became twisted.”

Of course, she hadn’t read those details thoroughly, but the backstory of a villain in a novel was always predictable.

“That’s not even worth listening to.”

“The succession dispute! You almost died, didn’t you? In that incident, you saw someone.”

“…….”

“It was blurry so I couldn’t see who it was clearly, but you were deeply grieving that person’s death!”

It was a common trope where a loyal follower is killed to awaken the protagonist, but this same principle is also used to create a villain. It was a gamble, based on her certainty that her Hollywood-movie-loving friend would have definitely used this material.

“…….”

And Alosha’s decisive move had clearly worked—she distinctly saw Whistler’s fierce eyes waver with confusion.

*’Got him.’*

If she unfolded the story she knew now, a crack would form in Whistler’s wall of suspicion.

“There’s no guarantee that child was me.”

“No, I saw you standing on a burning battlefield as time flowed rapidly. The person I saw in my dream was undoubtedly you, Duke.”

They say life is about real combat—now that the impasse she’d felt about how to handle things at the ducal residence was resolving, Alosha thought about taking it a step further.

“……You’re planning to blow up the bridge connecting the southern kingdom and the imperial capital, aren’t you?”

She hadn’t read her friend’s novel in detail, but fortunately, she remembered that this event was the first step in Duke Whistler’s plan to swallow the empire.

Whistler stared at Alosha without a word, then rhythmically tapped his fingers on the sofa armrest.

“Did you see that in your dream too?”

“……It’s a divine revelation.”

“And why would I do that?”

“To burn the empire and then move on to destroy the entire world.”

The explosion of the bridge, the destruction of the world—neither had been spoken of to anyone, they were plans he’d only ever contemplated in his mind. Hearing them spill from the lips of Alosha, whom he was meeting for the first time, Whistler clenched his fist.

“……You know quite a lot.”

“Because the god told me.”

“Is knowing about the Phoenix Ring, which has been lost for decades, also thanks to your god?”

If Whistler had been surprised just a moment ago, now it was Alosha’s turn to be taken aback.

There were, for now, only two people who knew she had information about this ring.

Duke Whistler and Emil had a poor relationship, so the only remaining one was definitely……

*’I knew physiognomy was a science.’*

Recalling a greasy, potbellied man, Alosha quietly nodded.

“Yes.”

The instincts honed over a long time on the battlefield were sending a warning about the presence of Alosha before him. She was neither an assassin sent by the palace, nor someone trying to threaten or strike a deal.

*’Should I kill her?’*

She was of noble blood from a count’s house, so the aftermath would be troublesome, but for the sake of the future, killing her might not be a bad idea.

“And I also know that you’re currently debating whether or not to kill me, Duke.”

“Is that so?”

“But you won’t be able to kill me.”

She had omitted the phrase “for now,” but at any rate, Whistler wouldn’t actually rush to kill Alosha right now.

“Confident, aren’t you.”

“Because I have the god’s protection.”

Alosha thought that the fact he wasn’t striking her neck right now, given his personality, was proof enough.