ITMFYWCLBU 20

It happened without warning.

“KyAAAAAAAAAA—!!”

A scream tore through the stillness of the night.

“What?!”

Clarisse, half-asleep in bed, jolted upright at the shriek coming from somewhere in the villa. She threw herself out of her room in a panic.

At the same moment, Bruyette—who was using the room next door—burst out as well, spotted Clarisse, and hurried over.

“Did you hear that?”

“Yes! That voice… it might have been Lady Mathilda.”

“What?!”

She’d been half in a dream, so she couldn’t be sure—but it felt like it.

Even Clarisse, who had said it, wasn’t fully convinced.

(This… this wasn’t supposed to happen…)

Unsure whether it was safe to move, Clarisse and Bruyette stood frozen in the corridor. Then hurried footsteps thundered toward them—likely the knights on night duty.

“What’s wrong?!”

“A scream… from that direction… It may be Lady Mathilda.”

She was the future Crown Princess. There were always knights stationed outside Mathilda’s room for protection, and Gracian’s room was right next to hers. The room beside Gracian’s belonged to Alexis and the other aides.

If anything happened, Gracian or Alexis should have rushed there immediately—yet in a situation where they didn’t know what was happening, fear was unavoidable.

“Understood!”

The knight took off at a run. Since it was better not to move without instructions, Clarisse waited in the hall with Bruyette.

(Did something happen to Lady Mathilda…? But why…?)

This wasn’t in her memories.

The thought of Mathilda being harmed made Clarisse tremble with helpless agitation.

It had been the same during the preparations for the Flower Appreciation Gathering. Why were things happening differently from what she remembered? Was Clarisse’s very existence—someone who had died and returned to the past—warping the course of events?

(If… if something happens to Lady Mathilda, it might be my fault…)

She clasped her hands so tightly her knuckles whitened, staring down the corridor toward Mathilda’s room as if praying.

Her pulse thudded violently in her ears. After what felt like an eternity, the knight returned.

“You two—come this way.”

“Um, Lady Mathilda…?”

“She’s unharmed. But her room has been disturbed. We need you to help tidy it.”

“Disturbed? What happened?”

Bruyette asked sharply, but the knight only shook his head.

“We don’t know. His Highness is questioning Lady Mathilda, but… she’s badly shaken. It doesn’t seem like she’s able to speak right now.”

Of course she wasn’t. If her room had been disturbed, that meant someone had entered. Mathilda must have been terrified.

“Understood. Thank you. Come, Clarisse.”

“Yes.”

Bruyette dashed back to her room and returned with a lantern.

They hurried together to Mathilda’s room. The duke’s-house maid who had come with her was pale as a sheet, crouched and gathering scattered shards of glass. The carpet—Clarisse realized with a start—was wet.

“Are you all right? Why is there glass…?”

Clarisse knelt beside her as she asked, and the maid gave a small nod.

“I’m all right. Lady Mathilda is not injured. The glass… it’s from a pitcher. Lady Mathilda threw it in fright.”

(She threw a pitcher…?)

Then she must have noticed the intruder and, on instinct, grabbed the nearest thing to defend herself.

(Thank goodness she wasn’t hurt…)

Clarisse exhaled softly and laid a gentle hand over the maid’s trembling one.

“We’ll take care of the cleaning. Please go stay by Lady Mathilda’s side.”

“No, Lady Mathilda is with His Highness—”

“Even so, she’ll feel safer if someone she trusts is nearby.”

Once she calmed down, she might want something to drink. Or she might begin to worry when she couldn’t see her maid.

And the maid herself looked near collapse. She’d likely been resting in another room and might not have seen the intruder, but knowing someone had entered her mistress’s room would be more than enough to shake her. She needed to breathe, too.

“…Then I will accept your kindness.”

Clarisse watched her head toward the adjoining room, then began collecting the shards scattered across the floor. After gathering the larger pieces, they would need a broom. The carpet might need replacing as well—fine splinters could have lodged deep in the pile.

While Clarisse worked, Bruyette inspected the room for anything else out of place.

The knights who had arrived were checking the windows. The lock area on the balcony door had been smashed, suggesting the intruder had entered through the window—but this was the second floor. Soldiers patrolled the grounds at night. How had someone gotten up here?

Then one of the soldiers seemed to notice something.

“Above.”

(Above…?)

Had the intruder come down onto the balcony from the floor above?

(The room directly above should be empty… but if that’s true, then the intruder got inside the villa first. How, when there are soldiers stationed at the main entrance and the back entrance?)

Of course, it was possible someone had slipped in through a ground-floor window. But soldiers constantly made rounds. If someone had evaded them, it wasn’t a clumsy thief. It would have to be someone trained.

And such a person had broken into Mathilda’s room.

It didn’t feel like petty theft.

(Did they mean to harm Lady Mathilda from the start…?)

A chill crawled down Clarisse’s spine.

In Clarisse’s memories, even two years later Mathilda was alive and well. But could that future change?

(Would Alexis know more about what happened? …Wait—where is Alexis?)

It felt wrong that Alexis, Gracian’s aide, wasn’t in the room. If something like this happened, he should have been taking the lead in assessing the situation. He might be staying by Gracian to protect him—but Gracian’s temperament was such that he would surely order Alexis to investigate—

(Where is Alexis?)

Sudden, sharp fear bloomed in Clarisse’s chest.

Why wasn’t he here? Had something happened to him?

Unable to stay still, Clarisse approached the soldiers examining the window and balcony.

“Um… where is Lord Alexis…?”

“Oh—Lady Clarisse.”

At her hesitant question, one of the soldiers turned. Clarisse recognized him: one of Alexis’s friends, a guard from a baron’s family.

“Alexis went after the suspicious person.”

“What?!”

Clarisse’s voice cracked before she could stop it.

The guard smiled, as if to soothe her paling face.

“Don’t look so frightened. He didn’t go alone. Two guards who were stationed at His Highness’s door went with him.”

Even so, that meant only three people had chased the intruder.

Still pale, Clarisse forced herself to nod.

“I… see…”

She thanked the guard and returned to cleaning.

But once the fear had taken root in her chest, it wouldn’t leave.

Her hands shook as she gathered shards, and she bit down hard on her lip.

(He’ll be all right…)

Alexis would be fine.

She repeated it to herself again and again—but the night, as she waited, felt endless.