Chapter 99
The carriage returned to the castle just before sunset. Ninia went back to the glass greenhouse with Ephre, who had come to meet her.
Tarahan only turned away after confirming that she had safely reached the center of Horimus. From a distance, a child watched them return to their respective places.
“Mom.”
Ellen had endured a long wait through the dark winter until spring arrived. When her mother finally came out to the glass greenhouse, her joy felt as if she could leap with happiness. Her mother looked healthier than when she had been confined to bed and walked without difficulty. Ellen’s heart pounded with deep relief and anticipation.
“She’ll recognize me now.”
Her mother’s inability to remember her was due to a severe illness. Unlike before, her condition was showing signs of improvement, so Ellen believed that her mother’s lost memories would gradually return. But they did not.
“Her eyes… she doesn’t know me.”
Even the next day, and the day after that, her mother did not recognize her. Ellen could tell without even speaking. Yet, she continued to hover near her mother, holding on to the hope that one day she would recall her.
However, the small wish of a child slowly turned into resentment.
“Why am I the only one she doesn’t remember?”
It seemed as though only Ellen had disappeared from her mother’s memory. Her mother’s treatment of the Grand Duke remained unchanged, which deepened the child’s distrust.
The sun was setting. The child stood still, gazing at the sky dyed purple. Faint singing drifted to her ears—a delicate, enchanting voice coming from somewhere.
“Siren?”
It reminded her of the mermaid in the fairy tales her uncle had read to her as a child. Sirens were said to lure sailors into the sea with their voices. But this was no sea.
Perhaps the sky, appearing deep blue, could be called a sea. Ellen thought so and began walking toward the bewitchingly beautiful voice.
The source of the voice was an entrance leading underground. The knights guarding it stood frozen, seemingly asleep. Inside, it sounded as if water were flowing. Ellen eventually descended.
A mysterious plaster figure in human form. A low, humming vibration. At the end of it all was a beautiful silver-haired mermaid, imprisoned.
“Hello, little angel.”
It was the very voice that had sung the mournful song. Ellen snapped to attention and looked over the figure. Though she had assumed it was a mermaid, it had neither gills nor tail. It was clearly a person with two legs.
“You seem curious about who I am. I am an angel, come down from the heavens to heal your mother.”
“…An angel? Not a mermaid?”
The figure laughed at the mention of a mermaid. Though imprisoned, dry, and pale, the long silver hair was undeniably beautiful. Ellen thought that this person might really be an angel.
“I am not a monster. Monsters are words used for the Grand Duke.”
At the mention of the Grand Duke, Ellen’s eyes widened. The angel looked down at her pityingly, as if her confusion were pitiful. Then he began whispering the truth to the child.
“The Grand Duke is a demon. A manifestation of lies and sin. He corrupted your pure and sacred mother.”
“…But…”
“Do you doubt my words?”
Ellen pressed her lips tightly together, but she was clearly shaken. That hesitation ignited the small ember of resentment she had harbored until moments ago—though only Ellen was unaware of it.
The angel, fixed to the wall, called to the child. As Ellen approached, he pressed his face against her cheek and revealed the truth.
“I tried to protect her from the demon, but I was captured here instead. Little angel, will you help me?”
“…Then… will our mother get better?”
Will she recognize me again?
The child’s eyes asked. The angel’s violet lips curved into a crescent. A certainty that no one had ever given the child was being offered by this stranger.
“Of course.”
The resentment born of despair transformed into new hope. Seeing the enchanted child, Altaheph whispered to the cute puppet.
“Bring your mother here. Then I can help both you and Ninia. I am the angel for everyone.”
The child’s blue eyes turned black. As the small figure nodded slowly, the serpent angel grinned, flicking its tongue.
Spring was at its peak. Wherever she walked in the garden, the fragrant air filled her lungs. She picked flowers and placed them in a basket. Evronsia was an edible flower used to brew floral tea.
She hadn’t thought herself knowledgeable about flowers, yet she could tell which were edible.
“I must have studied this before… I just forgot since it wasn’t needed.”
She had never had time to leisurely pick flowers, so even deep study seemed useless. Now, that knowledge was helpful. She felt like a truly ordinary woman—a strange feeling, neither good nor bad.
She struggled to recall something, but in doing so, she even forgot what she was trying to remember. Yet, she could instantly recall flower species and plant habits. Only then did she realize that her memory had issues, though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was wrong.
“Ah.”
Absentmindedly, she broke a stem instead of a flower. Feeling sorry, she stroked the leaves, and the wind caused the remaining stem to sway. She asked Ephre, nearby, almost to herself:
“Does Lord Tarahan like tea?”
“…I don’t really know.”
Ninia asked Ephre many questions but never received proper answers. She didn’t blame him; inquiring about the master of this place was simply part of her routine.
Everything was peaceful. It felt as if her life’s most tranquil, comforting moments had been gathered and made into a dream.
After some time, her basket was nearly full. She could take it back to the greenhouse for processing and drying. It was a bit early, but perhaps she should return. As she pondered, a faint voice caught her attention.
“…Hello, ma’am.”
A child with eyes as blue as hers looked up at her. This was the same child who had always watched Ninia from afar. It was the first time the child had come close—it was quite fascinating. What courage had brought the child near? The child’s bravery brought a natural smile to her face.
“Hello, little one. You’ve been watching me all this time, haven’t you?”
The child nodded, her flushed cheeks adorable. Up close, she seemed even cuter and more lovable. Whose child could be so lovely? Ninia gently stroked her head.
“You came up to me bravely today. What’s your name?”
“…Ellen.”
The child, Ellen, murmured her name shyly. She was a timid child. Ninia lowered herself to meet Ellen’s eyes.
“What a pretty name. I’m Ninia.”
“I know.”
Ninia’s eyes widened at the child’s words. It wasn’t a problem that she knew her name—but the child’s face, as if holding back tears, looked so sad.
“I have somewhere to go with you.”
“Where?”
The child’s expression shifted from sadness to sudden determination—it was hard to follow her emotions. Ellen took Ninia’s hand and pulled her along. As Ninia hesitated, Ephre stepped in between them.
“Lady Ninia. You cannot.”
“It’s alright. She’s just a child.”
“But…”
Ephre looked troubled, alternating their gaze between the young lady and Ninia. Only the Grand Duchess, who had lost her memory, was unaware. They remembered the lady who had cried within Horimus all winter. The child, separated from a mother who didn’t remember her, was still holding back tears.
The Grand Duke was away from the castle, and guards filled the interior. No one could harm the Grand Duchess or the child here. Eventually, Ephre stepped back. Ninia gave a silent thank-you and took Ellen’s hand again.
“I’ll be back soon.”
Even as Ninia reassured her, Ellen held her hand firmly. Together, they went to the far rear of the castle, following the underground entrance.
“Ellen, wait. Are we really allowed in here?”
“…Yes, Mother.”
The surprised question was met with the word “mother.” The strength of the child’s grip was remarkable. The stairs leading underground were dark, yet there was no damp or decay. Instead, a strangely familiar aura seemed to embrace her as they descended.
At last, they reached the underground area, a black-and-white world. The black was the grating, and the white were plaster figures in human form.
“…These people.”
Guided by the child, Ninia stopped to look closely at one plaster. All were dressed in official clerical robes. Among dozens of figures, she recognized a few faces.
It was the priest who had recently imparted holy energy to her. Could it really be him? She reached out for a closer look.
“…!”
Just as her fingertip brushed it, the face she recognized crumbled before her eyes. Even as shock flooded her, Ellen remained unmoved, calmly pulling her along.
“Let’s go, Mother. The angel is waiting.”
Ellen’s blue eyes had turned black. At that moment, the magnificent choir began to echo through the underground chamber. The voice was familiar from her own memory, the master’s voice she could never forget.
She stumbled forward into the chamber. The choir called the saint. At the end of the song, the puppeteer waited for Ninia.
“Ninia. My puppet.”
