She rubbed her eyes. “Why do you think the squirrel came out of the hatbox?”
“…What?”
“Just ask the squirrel in squirrel language.”
“Huh?”
“By the way, where are we?”
“Wh-What do you mean?” Kazuya closed the window and scurried toward her. “Victorique? Hello? Earth to Victorique? Wait, are you sleep-talking?”
She continued rubbing her eyes with her little hands, blinking repeatedly. Her emerald eyes, usually wide open, were only half-lidded.
“I’m not. How rude. How dare you accuse a lady of sleep-talking? Anyway, where are we?”
“In an inn in Horovitz.”
“Horovitz?”
“You wanted to come here.”
There was a long silence.
Then Victorique’s face turned a little red. She spun and returned to her room. Kazuya stopped her.
“What is it?” she said.
“Well, uhh… Sorry to disturb your sleep, but…”
“I’m not sleepy. What do you want?”
“Now that you can talk, I got a couple of questions.”
“…Now that I can talk?”
Standing in the corridor, Victorique watched Kazuya’s serious face curiously. Their faces were very close, her faint breathing ticklish on his chin. Victorique’s expression slowly changed. Her green eyes widened. She blinked a few times, and then made a face that said she messed up big-time.
“Ah!”
“Why’d you keep quiet all this time? Toothache?”
“No!”
Victorique stomped back to her room. When Kazuya followed her, objects started flying from inside toward the door—a cushion, a pillow, then a hat, and finally a shoe.
“Whoa! Stop!”
He looked inside, and to his surprise, she was trying to lift a chair this time.
“What are you doing?! What are you so pissed off about?!”
“You don’t enter a lady’s chambers!”
“L-Lady…? Well, I guess you are one…”
Exhausted and breathing hard, Victorique gave up on the chair and plopped down on it. Made of light material, it looked like Kazuya could lift it up and spin it around with Victorique sitting on top of it.
Perplexed, Kazuya entered the room and stood by the door, leaving it slightly open.
Victorique glowered at him. “After all that talk about me caring more about books, you already forgot? You’re such a…” Before she could say any more, she closed her mouth.
The windows rattled. The wind was picking up.
Dark clouds hovered over the mountains outside, and heavy, dark-blue skies blotted out the stars.
Thunder rumbled in the distance.
“Victorique?”
“…I’m done.”
“Done with what?”
“I said I’m done!”
“What’s your problem?!”
Kazuya slammed the wall out of frustration. His fist hurt so much that tears formed in his eyes. He went quiet.
After a few moments of silence, he said, “Why did you come here, Victorique?”
“…”
“It has something to do with the classified ad I showed you, doesn’t it? You’ve been acting strange ever since you saw it, and you even snuck out of the academy to come here. You said it yourself. You’re not allowed to leave the academy without permission. You’d stayed put all this time, but as soon as you saw the ad… What’s going on?”
“…”
“Don’t make me angry, Victorique. You’re acting like your brother, Inspector Blois. The way he ignores you, your turning your back to me, it’s exactly the same. Do you hate me like he hates you? I thought we were friends.”
“…”
“You said you were one of my few friends.”
It started drizzling outside. A mist had risen, covering the mountains.
Raindrops pattered on the frosted glass window, trickled down, then disappeared. The room felt a little colder.
Eventually, Victorique spoke. “I came here to clear someone’s name.”
“What?”
“Cordelia Gallo’s.”
Kazuya gazed at Victorique. She was biting her lip and staring at Kazuya with a frown.
He glanced down the corridor and closed the door so no one would hear them. He moved closer to Victorique. There was only one chair available, so he placed her mini suitcase on the floor beside her and sat down. He glanced up at her.
“Here.” Victorique began groping the breast of her nightgown. She flipped the huge frill. There was another frill, so she flipped that too. And then another one…
Victorique lifted her head and eyed him curiously.
What finally emerged from the tangle of frills was a shiny, golden, round object. Kazuya stared at it for a while and realized that it was a gold coin. It had been turned into a pendant by drilling a small hole and threading a chain through it.
It looked like a toy made by a child, a mismatch against her luxurious outfit. It was nothing more than a gold coin with a chain.
“Cordelia gave it to me,” Victorique murmured.
“The same name that Inspector Blois mentioned when he saw you wearing that turban.”
“Cordelia Gallo is my mother.” Her voice was low.
Victorique flipped the pendant over and showed it to Kazuya. He reached for it like a knight accepting a gift from a woman of nobility.
On the other side of the gold coin was a small photograph.
A black-and-white photo of Victorique de Blois.
Her long hair was pulled back, like she did when she wore the turban, and she wore glamorous makeup. There was something really off about her seductive, red lips. She had an allure that wasn’t quite like Victorique—the allure of an adult.
“Is this… you?”
“No.” Victorique shook her head. “It’s Cordelia Gallo. My mother.”
Kazuya swallowed.
Rain began pouring down from the night sky, battering against the windows.
Victorique sat still on the chair, biting her lip.
“My mother was a dancer,” she began. “She used to appear on stage in her garments of woolen cloth and exotic makeup, and was very popular. But there were all sorts of incidents wherever she went. They say she was an enigmatic woman.”
Victorique’s voice was flat and calm, the same voice she used when she was on the top floor of the library, surrounded by books and tropical trees.
Rain continued to fall. The room was getting a little chilly. Kazuya was sitting on the mini suitcase, holding his knees and looking at Victorique.
“My mother got involved with Marquis de Blois at some point and gave birth to me, but then disappeared afterwards. I grew up isolated in a room on top of the marquis’ tower. I never knew my mother until she came up the tower one night and gave me this gold coin pendant. She was outside the window, but I recognized her immediately, because she looked just like me.”
“Outside the window? Of a tower?!”
“Cordelia is very acrobatic. And I mean, very.”
Kazuya fell silent.
“My mother is always watching over me.”
“I see…”
“She came from a village believed to be where the legends of the Gray Wolves originated. The people of that village had lived deep in the mountains since the early sixteenth century, cut off from civilization. They were small, golden, very wise, but incredibly mysterious. It’s difficult to find people from that village in the city, because they rarely leave the village. But Marquis de Blois wanted to introduce their special power into his bloodline. When he learned that a popular dancer was from the village, he made her his own. He wanted a boy, but a girl was born—me. Later on, I learned why my mother was banished from her village. She had worked as a maid there, but one night she committed a horrible crime. She was a criminal. Marquis de Blois regretted introducing our accursed blood into his bloodline. And because I was unusual, he felt scared. I was locked up in that tower and raised there. Books and time—plenty of it—were the only things he provided. My mother ran away and threw herself into the Great War that began soon after.”
Victorique paused. She took the pendant from Kazuya’s hand and wrapped it around her neck. The simple, gold coin pendant sank back into the frilly depths.
“I’ve always wanted to learn about the village where my mother was born.”
“Ahuh…”
“Everything goes back to that night. The night my mother committed the horrific crime. If not for that, she would not have been banished from the village. And I wouldn’t have been born.”
“I wouldn’t want that.”
Victorique’s green eyes widened in surprise. Then she pressed her hands to her lips and chuckled.
Kazuya blushed. “Wh-Why are you laughing?”
“You are one amusing man, Kujou.”
“Sue me.”
Victorique laughed. She then raised one hand and pointed to the door.
“You may leave. I’m going to bed.”
“O-Okay. It’s a lady’s room, I suppose.”
“I’m going to bed. Right now. Get out of here.”
“All right, all right! Sheesh… Good night, Victorique.”
Kazuya got up. When he made it to the door, he thought he heard Victorique say something and turned around.
It was just his imagination. Victorique’s mouth was closed. But she was staring at him.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I came to clear my mother’s name.”
“Yeah…”
Kazuya stared back at her, puzzled. Victorique’s familiar face seemed distant, like that of a stranger. He felt uneasy.
“This is war,” she said. “A war between the village of the Gray Wolves and her.”
“I… see.”
“And I am not going home until Cordelia Gallo wins.”
When he stepped out onto the corridor, he heard the faint closing of a door.
He looked around and saw the door to Mildred’s room quivering.