Chapter 67
“It happened twenty years ago. Lady Darsena disappeared with the research materials.”
“And who’s that supposed to be?”
Ranje blurted the question out, then remembered the tidbit about Baron Resbar having a “missing eldest daughter.”
If she had left of her own will, they couldn’t very well say that out loud, so they must’ve covered it up as an accident or a disappearance.
“Not exactly the sort of family story you’d want to brag about. Seems this house wasn’t much better off than the rest.”
The son was a fool, and worse than that, malicious—ruining the lives of the estate’s people. The eldest daughter stole the family’s secret techniques and ran away. Poor Baron Resbar had no one reliable left, so he picked his collection as his heir.
Complaining didn’t change reality, so Ranje pulled out a bundle of papers.
What was left in the vault was part of an old research journal.
According to Skadi, these were scraps that the eldest daughter had accidentally dropped while taking the rest of the data with her.
The theoretical parts didn’t seem to contain much of value, but there were some notes about summoning experiments. Because of that, Erna and Heine decided to take the materials with them for a closer look.
“How long do you think it’ll take to make a copy?”
Heine gauged the thickness of the yellowed pages.
“Not much here. We should be able to finish within the day.”
“Good. Then we can set out after lunch tomorrow.”
The unexpected circumstances had lengthened their stay, so the three agreed to hurry their departure.
Ranje was even thinking of heading straight to the station, but the young viscount and Gunne blocked him.
“You should see Grandmother before you go. You’ve completed the task—don’t you want your reward?”
“Wouldn’t it be better if I just pretended to forget?”
Ranje had been so focused on the research materials that he had forgotten about his mother’s inheritance.
Leaving it aside would’ve been no loss to the young viscount. If anything, a shrewder person might have let it go intentionally.
But the young viscount was at a loss as to how to deal with his apathetic cousin. If Ranje had at least shown some hostility, he could’ve countered with polite friendliness. But since there was barely any interest or expectation at all, he had no good strategy.
All he could do was look awkwardly at Ranje for a while.
Fortunately, that worked.
“Ah… fine. We’ll stop by the marquess’ estate before the station.”
Having already suffered enough of old folks’ ill tempers over Swan-Hild Baek’s matter, Ranje backed down, saying he’d at least pay his respects before leaving.
Once he was brought into the estate, it wasn’t as if he could leave at will anyway, so the young viscount was satisfied with that.
With Erna and Heine busy with the documents, and his cousin gone, Ranje suddenly had free time.
He was debating between taking a nap or writing a letter when someone knocked at the door.
The visitor was none other than Skadi.
At a time when most people would be busy celebrating with raised glasses, Skadi, expressionless, came to see him. Clearly not to hear more congratulations.
“What is it?”
In response to Ranje’s question, Skadi answered in her usual calm voice.
“I have something I wish to ask you. Could you spare me a little of your time?”
There was something oddly unnatural about that statement, but Ranje got up anyway.
It was only after leaving the manor’s front gate that he wondered whether an automaton could even want to do something.
Even if someone had commanded Skadi to converse, an automaton couldn’t have disguised it as a voluntary choice.
Something’s off here.
They walked in silence until they reached the forest some distance from the manor.
Just as the boredom was beginning to outweigh his curiosity, Skadi suddenly spoke.
“You probably think I’m different from ordinary dolls.”
“Well, I haven’t seen enough of them to really compare.”
Even as he replied, Ranje couldn’t help but register how strange this situation was.
Come to think of it, wasn’t it odd for a family of Resbar’s standing to own an automaton at all?
Perhaps when magic had been more mysterious, Resbar had enjoyed some measure of power, but now they were nothing more than a minor barony.
Leaning against a tree trunk, Ranje watched Skadi.
She stood firm beneath his gaze and continued speaking—providing answers that happened to match what he had been wondering.
“The difference seems to lie in my core.”
It wasn’t certainty, just conjecture—but even that level of self-awareness was rare in a doll.
“Instead of the usual process of carving a magic stone and encasing it, my core was something a Resbar mage summoned about two hundred years ago.”
At that time, the family’s secret techniques were in far better shape, and the mage of the day had been deeply committed to research.
In the course of repeated summoning experiments, she had called forth something she couldn’t begin to understand.
Even after the summoning circle was broken, the beast did not return to its original dimension.
It was weak, and at the same time, it could not die. Because it didn’t properly belong to the laws of any world, it couldn’t even be used as material for other spells.
At first the mage was afraid, but after a few years, she changed her mind. She had a craftsman build a shell the creature could inhabit.
From then on, Skadi became conscious.
Though her thoughts were bound by the rules etched into her body, preventing her from reproducing emotions, she still possessed a clear sense of self.
“Hm.”
Listening to such an old story out in the cold made Ranje sniffle and frown.
He understood it was basically an “origin story,” but he couldn’t tell what the point was supposed to be.
Skadi glanced up at his face, then shifted her recollection closer in time.
“Once I had a body and a mouth to speak with, I still had to keep the most important things to myself—because that was what being a doll required.”
“What exactly are you trying to say?”
“I told both Lady Darsena and Lady Videllia the same thing.”
The first was the runaway eldest daughter of Baron Resbar. The second, Ranje’s own mother.
“That they were at once thinking you must not leave this place, and that you must leave it.”
Ranje rubbed his lips with his gloved fingers. The cold had numbed his skin so much that he could barely feel it.
“So you’re planning to tell me the same thing?”
“No. You must leave.”
Slipping a hand inside the folds of her mourning dress, Skadi took out a small box.
“Open it on your journey.”
Her tone was noticeably stiffer than when she had been recounting the past.
Inside the box was a glass orb about the size of a fist.
Not that he meant to obey the doll’s instructions, but Ranje only opened it once he was already on the train.
After their walk, he had tossed the box into his luggage and been too busy warming up to bother checking.
And after that, he simply hadn’t found the time.
He had to go with his cousin to the marquess’ estate, where Marquess Morigen suddenly summoned Erna.
The old lady calmly dined while Erna sat there looking so nervous she could hardly breathe.
Ranje, seated beside her, dutifully cut into his meat but still didn’t like the marquess any better. Though he ate, he didn’t enjoy it.
Then, with paperwork to handle, several days passed.
It wasn’t until they finally left Morigen that Ranje remembered the box Skadi had given him.
“A doll gave you this?”
Erna peered skeptically at the orb.
Inside the clear glass sphere was a tiny porcelain doll and some liquid—water, maybe—and shimmering dust that drifted about.
Each of them shook it once, then Ranje muttered:
“Is this… a souvenir?”
Since it had come from such a strange doll, it didn’t seem like an ordinary trinket.
But no matter how much they examined it, there was no trace of magic. Other than being pretty, it had no special qualities.
At last, Ranje shoved the glass orb back into his bag. Further inspection wasn’t likely to yield anything new.
Erna and Heine also lost interest, and the conversation turned elsewhere.
“So now we’re going straight to Luschetta?”
“Of course. We need to let Senpai know what’s going on and look through those materials too. His domain will be better than the capital.”
Though he had been yawning endlessly, Ranje’s eyes lit up as he spoke.
“It’ll be my first time seeing it in person. Wonder if there’s anything fun there.”
“We’re not going there to play, you know?”
“Still, we’re guests. Surely they won’t neglect to treat us.”
Heine watched Erna scolding Ranje with an amused smile. He had never spoken to Lennart one-on-one without Erna between them, but he was looking forward to Luschetta all the same.
At least it’ll be warmer than Morigen. It’s in the south, after all.
After nearly freezing to death in the north with no proper preparation, he was very much looking forward to the southern trip.
But his warm mood didn’t last long.
Suddenly he wondered—had any of them actually sent word ahead?
He certainly hadn’t. As mentioned, he wasn’t close enough to Lennart to send him a letter. Probably not Erna either.
Then…?
Uneasy, Heine turned to Ranje.
“Um, did you by chance notify them that we’re coming?”
“Huh?”
Ranje covered his mouth, eyes wide in shock.
Now that he thought about it, ever since receiving his father’s letter before arriving in Morigen, he hadn’t sent anything at all.
But then he shrugged lazily. Since they were already on the train, there was no way to get a message ahead without delaying their journey.
While Erna and Heine argued that at least the appearance of courtesy was better, Ranje just leaned back and yawned.
“They wouldn’t kick us out just because we didn’t send word… right?”
