Chapter 34.
Meriot poured himself another drink as he watched Bluerose suddenly gulp down her liquor.
‘Calling it a tragic fate doesn’t even begin to cover it. My emotions go beyond that.’
He no longer wanted to talk to anyone about Hera Wintail.
He had lived because of her, lived with her in mind, and would continue to live that way.
Sharing stories about her with others felt like she would slowly disappear from the world—Hera Wintail, who no longer existed.
He feared that, diluted by new people and new events, she would eventually fade from his heart.
So he decided not to speak of her anymore.
To anyone.
After that, the two of them drank in silence for a long while.
Meriot, feeling the pleasant buzz from the alcohol, turned to Bluerose with a relaxed expression.
“Couldn’t you be my conversation partner like this from time to time? If you do, I promise I’ll never tell anyone that Bluerose is a woman with alluring black hair—not even on my deathbed.”
He reached his arm out and clinked his glass against hers, which sat bottom-up on the table.
“Drinking buddy sounds good too.”
A sweet proposal.
As sweet as the drink.
Hera nodded drowsily, her head wobbling.
“Sometimes….”
Then came a thud.
Her head slumped forward and slammed onto the table.
“Hey. What did you even drink to be this drunk already?”
He began to question whether he had chosen the wrong drinking partner.
One drink and she collapsed like that?
She didn’t seem to have any particular skills or talents, but when it came to stealing, she performed miracles.
Meriot rested his chin on his hand and stared for a while at the unconscious thief.
Then a sudden thought came to him: maybe now he could find out her true identity.
He stood up and walked over to Hera.
He could hear her faint, wheezing breaths.
“What’s your real name…?”
He asked gently, and her bright red lips started to move.
“My name is…”
Meriot’s eyes widened.
To hear better, he brought his ear close to her lips.
“He…”
Whether it was a name or sleep talk, a vague sound slipped out—but soon only rhythmic breathing followed.
Looking down at the completely passed-out Hera, Meriot thought this was ridiculous.
Asking a drunk, sleeping person their name? What nonsense.
“Seriously, you really do know how to pique someone’s curiosity.”
This thief provoked Meriot’s curiosity endlessly.
He straightened up and slowly reached for Hera’s mask.
The black mask was precariously perched on her face, so loose that it seemed like it would fall off with the slightest touch.
Even under the dim light of the wine cellar, her skin was white and clear, her long black lashes and dark hair strikingly resembled Hera Wintail.
She looked almost like a doll little girls would play with.
Something about her felt oddly familiar.
Had he seen her somewhere before?
Would he recognize her if he removed the mask?
Should he lift it—just for a moment?
Meriot’s fingertips hovered near the edge of the mask, then lightly touched it.
“…!”
Suddenly, a burst of blue flames flared fiercely around Hera’s body.
Looking closely, it wasn’t fire but blue rose petals swirling rapidly, forming the shape of flames.
Meriot stepped back and murmured quietly.
“A thief protected by blue flames.”
She was a mysterious woman.
And there was no real reason to shatter that mystery.
“Keep your promise to be my drinking buddy.”
Meriot pulled out the emerald ring from his pocket and placed it beside her.
He looked forward to the day they would meet again.
✦✦✦
“Ah, ow!”
Some time later, at the break of dawn.
Hera woke up alone in the wine cellar.
As she lifted her head, the prophecy book hovered above her, as if it had been waiting for her to wake up.
Not realizing this, Hera jerked her head up and smacked it straight into the book.
[Emergency protective barrier deactivated.]
She didn’t know why the book was hovering in such a perfect position to hit her, but she rubbed the throbbing back of her head and looked around.
“When did I even fall asleep…?”
Fortunately, Meriot had left the <Winter Kingfisher> behind.
Hera picked up the ring.
“He really did leave it. Slot open.”
[Slot open.]
Blue rose petals bloomed, transforming into a ring case.
Hera safely placed the ring inside.
“Seal complete.”
[Seal complete.]
As if it were routine, her disguise immediately dissolved.
Through a small window in the warehouse wall, she could see the morning sun rising.
It must’ve been around 5 a.m.
Hera hurriedly got to her feet.
“The sun’s already coming up. I better get home fast.”
Slipping out to avoid being seen, she spotted the carriage Meriot had promised to prepare.
Despite all the time that had passed, it still waited for her.
A sigh of relief escaped her lips.
Pulling her robe tightly around her, Hera shook awake the sleeping coachman.
Without a word, he opened the door for her.
The carriage set off for Tolinga. Hera gazed at the Laurent estate through the window.
Strangely quiet.
Had everyone fallen asleep after the party?
Relaxing slightly, Hera rubbed her tired eyes and leaned back into the carriage seat.
Not long after Hera fell asleep, Meriot returned alone.
“Filthy scum.”
Just as he had ordered, nearly everyone in the hall had passed out.
Whether drugged, drunk, or simply exhausted, the floor was full of collapsed bodies—just as Meriot had planned.
None of the male guests were fully clothed.
Disgusted by the scene, Meriot turned his head.
“Albert Bouvier?”
He asked Shane.
Albert Bouvier had been his target all along.
Shane stepped over the sprawled bodies and checked Albert’s neck.
No signs of life.
“He’s dead.”
Meriot gave a small nod.
He walked over to a sofa in the corner and took a sleeping pill Shane handed him.
A mild sedative to put him in a light sleep.
“Well then, I’ll take a short nap.”
Because once he woke up, it would begin.
The reason he had come to Central—the starting point of his objective—was just around the corner.
“KYAAAAAH!”
The morning sun rose high, and one by one, the people in the hall began to wake up.
Meriot, asleep on the sofa, was startled awake by someone’s scream.
“Your Highness, Your Highness! Lord—Lord Albert is…!”
Everyone who had woken up before Meriot pointed to Albert.
They were all in a state of panic, unsure what to do.
“He’s not breathing!”
At that moment, people stormed into the Laurent estate.
“I’m Julian Tolin, commander of the city guard!”
Wearing his uniform, Julian entered the mansion with over a dozen guards following close behind.
They had raided the mansion without waiting for Meriot’s permission.
“We received a report of a death at the Laurent estate.”
Someone who woke up early must have called it in.
Exactly as Meriot had hoped.
As Meriot locked eyes with Julian and smiled faintly, Julian gave him a subtle nod.
“We ask for the Duke’s full cooperation.”
“Of course, Commander Tolin.”
That evening, as Emilia and Cecilia sat down for dinner, disturbing news reached them.
It was the head maid who had brought them the latest gossip while serving their meal.
“Albert Bouvier, the son of a viscount, is dead?”
Cecilia, who had just lifted a spoonful of soup, widened her eyes in shock.
News of someone’s death was always startling.
Hera, exhausted and with no appetite, couldn’t focus on Cecilia and the maid’s conversation.
She stared blankly at the centerpiece on the table while sipping juice.
“Yes, because of that, the young master left early this morning.”
“Suicide? Murder?”
“That’s still under investigation. Apparently, he died drunk at the Laurent estate.”
“The Laurent estate?”
Hera, who had shown no interest in the conversation up until now, suddenly shouted in shock.
