TNBTW | Episode 30

“Duchess Devion.”

Edith, who had just taken a step forward to return the puppy to its owner, froze at the icy tone. In that instant, she realized why that voice had felt unfamiliar.

Becky. It was the name of the puppy—or so Edith assumed. When Vivianne had called it earlier, her voice had been uncharacteristically gentle.

“To bring an animal into someone else’s estate without permission… How utterly improper—”

“Woof!”

Vivianne’s sharp reprimand was cut off when Becky barked, causing her to flinch and clench her fists tightly.

If she only looked slightly downward, she would see the puppy barking at her. But Vivianne seemed desperate to avoid acknowledging it, keeping her gaze fixed on Edith as if willing herself not to waver.

“…If my mother were to find out, she would be furious. I suggest you leave the estate at once. I will keep this matter confidential.”

Vivianne, her expression resolute, turned on her heel abruptly. Becky continued to call out to her, whining pitifully, but Vivianne never once looked back.

 

***

 

‘Is this really the right thing to do?’

Edith let out a deep sigh.

In the end, she had brought Becky to the Devion estate. After everything Vivianne had said, leaving Becky there didn’t seem like it would end well.

‘So this is how children must feel after causing trouble.’

With a newfound understanding of their perspective, Edith glanced down at her lap, her expression tinged with helplessness. Nestled lightly on her knees was a ball of white fluff—Becky, the forlorn puppy, looking utterly dejected.

“Becky, are you upset?”

“Woof…”

Becky let out a feeble whimper, her tiny body limp with despair. Even her perky little ears seemed to droop, as if weighed down by her mood.

The initial “B” was engraved on the leather collar Edith had found earlier. 

Becky. B. Considering how luxurious the collar was and how Vivianne had called the puppy by name, it was hard to imagine she wasn’t its owner. There was little doubt about it.

The real question was, why had Vivianne given Becky away so readily?

Even if the Grand Duchess detested dogs, Vivianne was the beloved daughter of the household. Surely, she could have gained permission to keep Becky. 

Had she been secretly raising the puppy, only to abandon it now that someone else had found out?

‘But that reaction…’

Vivianne had undeniably been shaken. She had faltered when she saw Edith holding Becky. She hadn’t even been able to look directly at the puppy.

 

‘Becky!’

 

And yet, when she had called out the puppy’s name, her voice had been so gentle, so full of love, it was almost unrecognizable as hers.

Then why? Edith’s thoughts circled back to the beginning, trying to piece it all together. Just as she sank deeper into her musings, the sound of bells chiming outside reached her ears. Skyle had returned. After a brief hesitation, Edith stood from the bed, still cradling Becky in her arms.

 

***

 

“So, you decided to bring it here?”

“…Yes.”

Edith hesitated, her voice trailing off as she gauged Skyle’s reaction. She already knew he didn’t have any allergies to fur, but preferences were an entirely different matter.

“……”

“Isn’t it cute?”

Breaking the silence with an awkward smile, Edith shifted slightly to show Becky, who was cradled in her arms like a baby.

The puppy’s round, black eyes met Skyle’s cold gaze. Skyle, who had been looking indifferently at Becky, let his gaze wander slightly upward before quickly averting it as if nothing had happened.

“Well, don’t you think it… has a balanced look?”

“Are you judging a dog by human standards?”

“…No.”

Feeling the awkward tension, Edith had tried to lighten the mood with a joke, but as expected, it fell flat. Skyle’s expressionless stare only made her feel more embarrassed, prompting her to quickly correct her posture.

“I’m sorry for bringing it without asking first. I’ll find a place for it soon, but could I keep it here for the time being?”

She knew she was asking for a lot, but Edith couldn’t help herself. As much as she hadn’t meant to bring Becky, abandoning such a small, helpless creature on the streets wasn’t an option. Yet, finding someone else to take care of the puppy didn’t sit right with her, especially with Vivianne’s reaction lingering in her mind.

“Do as you please.”

“Really? Thank you, Skyle!”

Edith’s face lit up with relief. She had been bracing herself for resistance, worrying that Skyle’s obsessive cleanliness might make him hypersensitive to something as minor as dog fur. His easy approval took her by surprise.

“I was worried you might dislike dogs.”

“I don’t like them.”

“Oh, then…”

“But I don’t dislike them either.”

That’s… good enough, right? Edith let out a small breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. At least he didn’t hate or fear dogs to the point of refusing to have one near him.

“You’ve never raised one before, have you?”

“I’ve heard stories about raising one.”

“Wow, really? From whom?”

“My mother.”

Edith’s eyes widened in surprise. This was the first time Skyle had mentioned anything about his family other than his brother.

Now that she thought about it, they’d never talked about his parents. She hadn’t brought it up, as she was also without hers, but hearing this now piqued her curiosity.

Skyle’s mother…

“Oh, Skyle! Now that you mention it, I remember seeing a portrait of you as a child—with your mother.”

The memory suddenly resurfaced, prompting Edith to speak. She was sure she had seen it in the storage room of the Devion estate.

“…You mean my mother?”

Skyle’s voice came a beat slower than usual. Edith nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes! She was so beautiful. Her hair was a soft pink color. Yours must have been similar when you were younger.”

Of all the hair colors she’d seen, that pastel pink hue was particularly striking, reminiscent of delicate cotton candy.

After a brief silence, Skyle asked quietly, “What color was my hair in the portrait?”

“It was similar to hers, with a faint pink tint.”

The memory was vivid in her mind, and Edith answered without hesitation. But Skyle looked at her with an unreadable expression.

“That wasn’t me. And that wasn’t my mother.”

The weight in his voice made Edith freeze. Just as she was about to ask if she had made a mistake, the atmosphere grew heavier.

A mother and child’s portrait. A child resembling Skyle. But not Skyle…

“You saw my sibling’s mother.”

“Then…”

Edith’s mouth fell open, and just then, a golden window appeared before her eyes.

 

 

An empty heart. A name that had eluded her for so long. This was the mysterious “question mark” that had been on the list for quite some time.

“Christian Emmet Molt.”

Skyle’s emotionless voice broke the silence, and as it did, the hazy interface shimmered in golden light, revealing the name.

 

 

“The one you saw was my brother.”

The name replaced the question mark.

Skyle’s brother, the one possessed by a demon—Christian Emmet Molt.

 

***

 

The Emperor’s hobby was gardening. It seemed an unlikely pastime for a robust sovereign with the demeanor of a warrior, yet he pursued it with earnest dedication.

Inside the greenhouse, a harmonious array of plants personally curated by the Emperor flourished. It was no secret that the countless varieties of flowers gathered from both East and West were a quiet source of pride for him.

“They’re thriving beautifully. That merchant wasn’t wrong when he claimed their propagation was excellent.” 

The Emperor remarked, deftly snipping away the overgrown tendrils that had begun to drape below the supporting pillars with a pair of surprisingly delicate pruning shears.

The lush green vines that blanketed every pane of glass, save for the ceiling, gave the greenhouse the atmosphere of a serene forest. A forest, yet one devoid of birdsong—an eerily silent woodland.

“They said that keeping it densely packed ensures sound doesn’t escape easily. Another truth, it seems. That merchant is well-connected, no doubt—he seems to know everything.”

Skyle offered no reply, his gaze fixed on the entwined vines. It wouldn’t have been surprising if a concealed door leading to a hidden chamber lay somewhere within that dense greenery.

After all, the greenhouse was where the Emperor summoned him whenever he wished to convey something in absolute secrecy.

“The Magic Tower has decided to open its gates for the second consecutive year. You likely understand what this entails far better than I do.”

The Magic Tower had always maintained an exceptionally stringent standard for selecting wizards.

It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that every aspiring wizard on the continent set their sights on the Tower. Countless hopefuls flocked to its gates, yet the number who succeeded in entering was vanishingly small due to its rigorous requirements.

The Tower’s opening, often referred to as the “Examination,” was a term synonymous with unpredictability. The announcement was brief, and the testing period even briefer, earning it a notorious reputation.

It wasn’t uncommon for hopefuls to set out upon hearing the news, only to arrive and discover the exam had already concluded.

Thus, to gain entry into the Tower required not only exceptional skill but also extraordinary luck—or, in rare cases, skills so unparalleled that they rendered luck irrelevant. Those individuals often found themselves violating their nations’ teleportation laws, showcasing their audacity in the process.

Despite these challenges, the number of individuals willing to wait indefinitely for the Tower’s unpredictable opening remained remarkably high.

There was even a joke that the small kingdom neighboring the Tower survived solely on the income generated by its lodging industry.

“It will only become harder to find truly capable individuals.”