A letter?
For me?
Evangeline had mentioned she had no friends due to her poor health.
Who would possibly be writing to her?
"I believe it's from that knight commander," Hena replied.
The knight commander?
*What?!* Could this really be a letter from the protagonist himself?
I tore open the envelope with perhaps unseemly haste.
The contents, written in handwriting as elegant and refined as the sender's face, were as follows: questions had arisen regarding the Donau incident, and he needed to discuss certain details in person.
When I relayed the letter's contents, Kanna's expression soured immediately.
"But we already told him everything that night!
Why dredge it all up again?"
About a week had passed since the kidnapping.
Kanna was clearly displeased with Gabriel's belated visit, but I understood his motivations perfectly.
With the villain and the heroine residing together at the same Rohanson estate, the protagonist couldn't simply ignore the situation!
There seemed to be some invisible force at work in this world, constantly pulling events back toward the original plot.
Even if Gabriel didn't consciously want to come, he'd still find himself here—worried, perhaps, that something terrible might happen to Kanna while she remained in my villainous clutches.
This was precisely the scenario I'd anticipated when formulating my survival plan.
Gabriel probably suspected I'd conspired with Donau to orchestrate Kanna's kidnapping!
He must have spent this entire week gathering evidence and studying my—Evangeline's—notorious reputation.
"My lady, Sir Gabriel has arrived," the butler announced.
The very day after I'd sent a reply assuring my readiness to receive him at any time, the protagonist appeared at our doorstep.
Fortunately, I'd instructed the butler in advance to show our guest to the drawing room.
I didn't want to keep Gabriel waiting and give him time to grow more suspicious, so I quickly ran a comb through my hair before heading downstairs.
If the villain had started preening extensively before the meeting, he would certainly have quipped something cutting like, "Ha!
Trying to impress me with your appearance?"
Entering the drawing room, I found Gabriel calmly sipping tea as though he owned the place.
This was my first time in this particular room as well, and I felt distinctly awkward—uncertain where to sit, where to look.
He, on the other hand, appeared completely at ease.
With a slight nod of greeting, I settled into the chair opposite him.
Hena materialized at my elbow and filled the cup waiting before me.
"It's good to see you again, Sir Gabriel.
It's been some time."
"So," I said, affecting supreme disinterest as I raised my teacup, "what seems to be the problem?"
Kanna was waiting in her room upstairs, as planned.
We'd originally intended to descend together, presenting a united front, but Pudding had seemed eager to play with her, and I'd told her to come down when I called.
The timing would be perfect—Gabriel would see our easy friendship firsthand.
"If you're concerned about Kanna's condition," I offered graciously, "I can summon her immediately."
"Ah, yes—that girl who was abducted." Gabriel's tone was almost dismissive. "She didn't appear to be too badly injured."
We'd wanted to obtain holy water and heal her completely, but Kanna had insisted she wished to keep the scar as a reminder of her survival.
Hena and I had agreed through our tears, respecting her wishes even as our hearts ached.
"I actually came to ask Lady Rohanson's opinion on a different matter."
"Donau Blue's body has not yet been laid to rest," Gabriel said.
"Still?" I blinked in surprise.
Kanna had explained to me that criminals' bodies were typically rejected even by temples.
They were cremated and buried without ceremony—no prayers, no blessings, no mourners.
During the reign of the Sun God, cremation had been considered a particularly unholy rite, reserved specifically for those unworthy of proper burial.
Kanna had joked darkly that there wouldn't be any complications with Donau, since he'd already been thoroughly burned.
I remembered that comment vividly.
But if Donau had no living relatives, and he was classified as a criminal, shouldn't disposing of his remains have been straightforward?
"Yes.
Two days ago, discussions began about interring Donau Blue in the cathedral itself."
Behind me, Hena's hand trembled as she poured my tea.
She struggled to conceal her reaction, but I caught the way her fingers tightened on the pot's handle.
The mere mention of burying a *criminal* in sacred ground had clearly horrified her.
Kanna would be devastated to hear this.
Thank goodness I'd left her upstairs with Pudding.
"Why would anyone propose such a thing?" I asked carefully.
"Because his death was... unusual."
"Unusual how?"
"Lady Rohanson, you yourself witnessed how that house burned without affecting any neighboring buildings."
"Shortly after you departed," Gabriel continued, "before the fire brigade could even attempt to extinguish the blaze, it died on its own.
And when they recovered Donau's body..."
He withdrew a folded paper from his coat pocket.
Apparently cameras didn't exist here, so he'd drawn an illustration instead.
Whoever had created this... masterpiece... their artistic abilities left *much* to be desired.
"I apologize for the quality of the rendering.
I drew it myself, hoping to make the situation clearer."
I was momentarily speechless.
The man wrote with exquisite penmanship, yet drew like a drunken chicken scratching in mud.
A small child could have produced something more comprehensible.
I couldn't tell him to his face that his drawing resembled abstract chaos, so I settled for a polite, noncommittal smile.
"This represents the head," he explained, pointing at an ambiguous blob, "and this is the body."
"And behind the figure... here..." He traced vague shapes. "There were traces of soot that resembled wings.
And a halo."
"Doesn't it resemble an angel?" Gabriel asked.
"Therefore," he continued, apparently interpreting my stunned silence as agreement, "people who witnessed the body began claiming that Donau Blue received a divine blessing."
A blessing?
*Donau?* The man who had kidnapped Kanna, terrorized her, drawn her blood, and then—unwilling to face consequences for his sins—committed suicide?
But surely those who'd witnessed the corpse were knights?
Members of Gabriel's own order?
As their commander, he should have been able to manage their interpretations easily.
"But only the Knights of Paralos witnessed this scene," I pointed out, confused.
"It seems onlookers infiltrated the perimeter while the guards' vigilance was relaxed." Gabriel's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "Initially, rumors circulated only among my knights.
But then an artist painted what witnesses described and donated the resulting work to the temple.
Now the clergy are discussing the matter as well."
There *had* been numerous spectators that night—I remembered the crowd of neighbors watching the flames with disturbing calm.
But who would study a charred corpse and feel inspired to *paint* it?
And not only finish such a painting within days, but immediately donate it to religious authorities?
Whoever this artist was, they possessed truly alarming determination.
And unlike Gabriel, they apparently knew how to actually draw.
If the temple had only been presented with Gabriel's illustration, they would have laughed at the moth and dismissed the entire matter.
"Eventually, the higher authorities became interested," Gabriel said. "The case was nearly closed, but then orders arrived to review the circumstances of Donau Blue's death and... restore his good name."
The Knights of Paralos were holy knights; their superiors were presumably the Church hierarchy.
Who could issue orders to a knight commander?
There was no Saint or Holy Virgin in this world's current era, so it must be the High Priest.
Someone from the upper clergy, certainly.
Even in romance novel worlds, falsifying cases was apparently commonplace.
To "review circumstances" meant to rewrite history—to transform Donau from criminal into victim.
"The problem, Lady Rohanson, is this: if Donau Blue is declared to have received divine blessing, then you will be accused of slandering him and deliberately distorting the facts surrounding his death."
We had claimed that Donau kidnapped Kanna and died while attempting to escape justice.
If Donau was declared an angel, I would be branded a liar—or worse, a murderer who had killed a blessed soul and fabricated evidence to conceal my crime.
"Lady Rohanson." Gabriel's blue eyes fixed on me with unsettling intensity. "I must ask you directly: is everything you told me that night true?"
"Is it true..."
His gaze held unmistakable suspicion.
Not merely suspicion—he clearly believed I was guilty of *something*.
He was attempting to extract information I hadn't yet revealed.
But Kanna had already provided a complete account; I couldn't suddenly alter our story without making everything worse.
"Let me ask you a question in return, Sir Gabriel: do you believe I lied?"
As far as I understood from Hena and Kanna's explanations, people in this world knew nothing about spirits.
Such entities apparently existed, but no one had heard of them or acknowledged their presence.
If I claimed Donau had summoned a spirit that night, who would possibly believe me?
Gabriel didn't respond immediately.
He remained silent for what felt like an eternity, his expression unreadable, and then said slowly:
"I don't believe Donau Blue received any divine blessing.
But I know his death was strange—stranger than a simple suicide during an escape attempt."
But what if I confessed everything and he betrayed my trust?
What if I ended up imprisoned?
Or worse—accused of murdering an angel and condemned as a witch?
Then I'd face execution: either beheading or burning at the stake.
While I hesitated, Gabriel watched me with those piercing blue eyes.
Patient.
Waiting.
"Lady Rohanson," he said finally, his voice unexpectedly gentle, "I want to help you."