Chapter 17
“Is this really something we can trust?”
Still unable to drop their suspicious looks, they asked again.
“Yeah. If you follow this, you should be able to escape.”
I shouted more confidently than ever. After all, I’d made it genuinely hoping they would escape.
“Why go this far? If anything, that just makes it more suspicious.”
“You don’t have to believe it. I just drew it because I wanted to help.”
The twins stared at me with eyes full of doubt.
“I know it looks suspicious. But if I were really trying to deceive you, I’d have brought an actual map—one that’s hard to read—not a crude drawing like this.”
“Hm. You could’ve done that to avoid suspicion.”
“If that were the case, I wouldn’t have handed it over so openly. I’d have done it secretly. Or maybe I’d have hidden the map somewhere in this room and waited for you to find it.”
Those words came straight from the heart. And because of that, I emphasized my point once more.
“Believe it or not—it’s up to you.”
I don’t know how they took my words. They might grow even more suspicious and burn the map right away, or they might move exactly as it showed.
All I had to do was give them the map. At the very least, to leave them with the sense that I had tried to show them some trust.
Having done what I came to do, I turned around. No matter how much I told them to trust the map, it was their choice. They needed a little time to think.
‘Shall I get going now?’
If I was going to prepare for tomorrow’s party, I needed to sleep early and wake up early. It was bound to be a birthday party with no pleasant memories attached, but…
‘It’s always been that way.’
Still, because there was a father who looked forward to my birthday more than anyone else, I headed back to my room.
Then, something suddenly occurred to me.
“Oh, right. By the way—are you both eating properly?”
Between what the servant had said earlier and the fact that they hadn’t gained a single bit of weight even after several days, it seemed to me that they really weren’t being taken care of. So I asked casually.
“……”
“Why ask something like that?”
“Food comes properly only when I’m here, right? Other times, it doesn’t really come?”
That was why I asked—and it seemed I was right.
The older brother stayed silent, and the younger brother awkwardly looked away.
“…Alright. Got it.”
“We didn’t even answer, and you say you got it.”
“Knowing without being told—that’s what friends do, isn’t it?”
“Friends……”
At the word friends, the twins’ expressions subtly changed.
I shrugged and smiled sheepishly. It made sense they wouldn’t want to talk about how they were being treated, or what kind of situation they were in.
Physical abuse isn’t the only kind of abuse. Emotional abuse is abuse too. And since those children were suffering emotional abuse, reactions like these were only natural.
Having figured things out, I tried to leave again.
But this time, the younger brother stepped in front of me.
“What. You have something to say?”
“Bernhardt.”
“Huh?”
The younger brother opened his mouth very slowly.
“My name. And my brother is Callisto.”
Caught off guard by his unexpected words, I just fumbled silently for a moment.
“You’re telling me your names?”
“I just wanted to tell you. Like you said—if this map is real, then this is the last time, right?”
“Ah.”
“What. Is it not?”
“No, it is. I just thought I’d never know your names until the very end.”
In the novel, the older twin was called Cal and the younger Bern, so I had a rough idea—but hearing their full names for the first time left me flustered.
I’d thought those were names they’d received later, after going to the ducal family, but apparently not.
I was so flustered I couldn’t even figure out what to say. Like an idiot, I just mumbled the word name over and over.
“Your names…”
“Even so, they’re probably not our real names.”
As if a little embarrassed by what he’d said, the younger one—Bernhardt—added,
“Huh?”
“We just… didn’t have any names to call each other. So we picked some at random from a book where we were locked up. We don’t even know what they mean.”
Seeing Bernhardt shrink back like that made my chest feel uncomfortable.
Names no one had ever given them.
Names no one but themselves had ever called them by.
So I spoke those names louder and more clearly than ever before.
“Callisto. Bernhardt. They’re good names.”
“I-I don’t know if they’re good or not. Anyway. I told you.”
As if giving one thing in exchange for another, Bern scratched his nose.
“Yeah. Thank you.”
What could I say besides thank you? I just smiled, nodded, and reached for the door again.
“Then I’ll be going. Even if this is the last time we see each other… let’s not regret it. Take care.”
No reply came back.
And of course, I didn’t look back either.
Because I hoped our connection would end here.
“Miss. Um, miss…”
As soon as I stepped outside, the servant from earlier spoke up, as if he’d been waiting.
“What.”
“Well… did you ask them something inside?”
“Ask them what?”
“No, I mean… that is…”
“I asked, but they didn’t answer.”
The servant stared at me with a slightly surprised expression.
“I-is that so?”
“Yeah. So are you done talking? Are you going to keep holding me up?”
Only then did the servant nod and step aside.
“N-no. I apologize.”
Mumbling, the servant backed away. Whether he decided he couldn’t question me any further, or chose to believe what I said, he didn’t ask anything else or follow me.
And so I returned to my room. Part of me felt relieved, but another part was filled with worry.
Because of those thoughts, the walk back felt even shorter than usual. Just as I reached my room and opened the door—
“Our daughter…”
As if he’d been waiting for me, the person inside spoke first.
“Dad?”
The first thing I saw after returning from meeting the twins was my father. Standing in front of the desk where I’d been drawing before I left, he spread out the crumpled papers and put on a deliberately serious expression.
“Oh—Dad, you’re here?”
“Yes. You said you were resting, so… I thought I’d take a bit of time and have some tea with you.”
“Oh—th-then I should have them bring tea right away. I want warm milk today!”
Normally, my father would have enthusiastically agreed—but instead, he just shook his head.
Rather, his hands trembled as he held the papers. I should’ve taken them away. Had he already figured it out?
What if he misunderstood after recognizing it?
Those thoughts made my head spin.
This was bad. I should’ve cleaned my room properly before leaving. In my hurry, I hadn’t thought about what came after.
And while I was panicking, my father spoke again.
“Amanet.”
“Y-yes?”
“Let’s have tea later. For now, explain this to me.”
It was my fault for not throwing them away properly. I’d just roughly crumpled the papers I’d drawn on, so of course a maid tidying up the room would find them easily.
Still, I’d thought the maids wouldn’t touch them even if they saw them—never mind that my father would see them.
“Well… that is…”
He wasn’t supposed to realize yet. That I’d drawn the floor plan of the western estate—complete with the secret passages only people who’d lived there a long time would know.
I hesitated for a long time, just moving my lips.
“Um… so, that is…”
What should I say? That I just drew it for fun? That it was an imaginary map I made out of boredom?
As I desperately tried to come up with an excuse—
“My goodness… our daughter…”
“Uh… well, you see—”
“To think you’re such a good artist!”
“H-huh?!”
“I mean, this is… um… a drawing of the house, right?”
Dad. I don’t think you even know what this is.
“Huh?”
“Right? I always say your drawing skills are excellent. You must’ve inherited it all from me. Truly amazing. A genius, without a doubt.”
Dad. That’s not a drawing of the house. Did I draw it that badly?
“And this here—is this supposed to be me?”
My father pointed at a hole drawn in the corner. That was a crawlspace… I’d marked it with a circle to show that two small children could fit through. But my father looked at it with great satisfaction, clearly misunderstanding.
“Huh?”
“I was disappointed you’d been distant lately, but I had no idea you were drawing something like this just for your father. As expected, you’re the only one for me.”
Love practically poured out of my father’s eyes as he completely misunderstood.
At times like this, his excessive affection for his daughter actually seemed helpful.
‘Yeah. Maybe it’s better to just let him misunderstand.’
Better than knowing the truth.
