The ball season had already begun, and in two weeks came the Crown Prince's birthday—his thirtieth. A perfect occasion for a debut.
Gabriel promised to secure an invitation. He would also handle commissioning the dress and finding a suitable companion. Truly, he was a prince straight from a fairy tale... he had thought of everything down to the smallest detail.
_Now he has to teach me to dance as well. Am I asking too much of him?_ Evangeline felt a pang of guilt, but then she reminded herself that Gabriel had volunteered for this. The guilt melted away like morning frost.
Yes, Gabriel himself had offered to be her partner. It was always like this in love: whoever loves most, loses.
_By the way, how did Dolline know Gabriel would be my partner? I don't recall telling her anything._ Evangeline's brow furrowed slightly. _Have rumors about him inviting me to the ball already spread? News certainly travels fast in high society._
---
"Goodbye, Dolline," Evangeline said, her smile warm and gracious.
"Goodbye," Dolline replied, and hurried out of the room. She pulled the door closed with careful precision and caught her breath. Only once she was beyond Evangeline's sight could she truly breathe.
"Damn it!" she hissed through clenched teeth.
Her hands trembled as though she were deep in withdrawal. She should never have agreed to the bishop's request.
Rumors had recently surfaced that Count Rohanson was seeking governesses for his daughter. Word was that the ailing lady had miraculously recovered and was now preparing for her debut in society.
Since Evangeline Rohanson had long since passed the typical debutante age, she had become a favorite morsel for gossips.
Some claimed she wasn't sick at all—merely deformed and therefore hiding from the world. Others whispered that the real Evangeline had died, and the Count had found a double to take her place. There were also those who allegedly saw her in the temple and described her as an angel made flesh.
Since Evangeline communicated with no one due to her "illness," she had no friends to refute such tales. And so the gossip multiplied like a snowball rolling downhill, growing larger and more outlandish with each passing day.
Dolline had never been interested in such idle chatter. But then Bishop Javaniya made her an offer. She had come to him, as usual, to purchase holy water in secret.
"It's a simple matter," he had said, his aged voice smooth as oil. "If you succeed, I will reward you generously."
He asked her to become Evangeline's governess—to learn everything about her. What kind of person was she? What was the nature of her relationship with the knight captain, Gabriel? In exchange, he promised to supply her with holy water every quarter.
Dolline was an addict. Her addiction had already cost her a husband.
When the attacks became unbearable, she drank holy water to cleanse herself. But both drugs and holy water were expensive, and Dolline, perpetually strapped for coin, had jumped at the offer without hesitation.
She hadn't even asked why he needed the information. Now she regretted it bitterly.
Thanks to Javaniya's forged recommendations, Dolline secured the position without difficulty. At first, everything seemed simple enough. What could be so hard about looking after a sickly girl?
She had been wrong. **Devastatingly** wrong.
Evangeline Rohanson turned out to be... strange. An angel? Sick? Ugly? Which of those gossips had actually seen her with their own eyes?
_She was not an ordinary girl._
Even Bishop Javaniya had been mistaken. The old man must have lost his wits entirely. Where had he been looking?
With skin so pale it was almost translucent—fine blood vessels visible beneath like rivers on a marble map—and bright red eyes like two rubies set into hollow sockets, Evangeline looked less like a human being and more like a temple statue of an angel given breath.
Dolline's head began to spin. Her mind felt as though it were being torn apart from within.
Voices echoed in her skull, as if someone were whispering directly into her ears. It was like insects crawling into her ear canals, tickling her brain with their countless legs.
_Prostrate yourself! Kneel! Praise! Glorify! Honor! Worship! **Admire!**_
These voices haunted Dolline whenever she was near Evangeline.
She didn't succumb to their influence only because she was already accustomed to such whispers—the ones that tormented her during withdrawal.
_Jump out the window! Throw yourself under a carriage!_ She heard these commands constantly, so another voice calling for worship made little difference. Sometimes they merged into a maddening cacophony: _"Slit your wrists as a sign of devotion!"_ But for now, Dolline managed to ignore them.
Even so, habit did not make the task bearable. Now she understood why the other teachers had fled.
Without a specific goal—like the holy water that Dolline desperately craved—it was impossible to endure. What kind of people could work in this mansion day after day? Perhaps they were all on some kind of drug themselves?
The three maids who constantly attended Evangeline seemed especially unhinged. They were clearly not quite right in the head.
Red-haired Kanna appeared to have completely surrendered to the voices. Daisy regarded Dolline with perpetual suspicion, her eyes sharp as broken glass. Henna seemed the most normal and friendly of the three.
"Are you leaving already?" Henna asked quietly, suddenly appearing before Dolline. Her grim face and soft voice made Dolline shudder.
_No—Henna left earlier. She should be long gone by now._ If she was still here... she had been waiting.
"Do you need to see the butler? Shall we go together?"
Dolline wanted to refuse, but remembering the holy water, she nodded. A perfect opportunity to learn something useful.
She had been recording everything she saw and heard at the mansion, intending to pass it on to Javaniya. Her impressions of Lady Evangeline, the maids, the suspiciously quiet inhabitants of the estate... She planned to describe it all in meticulous detail in her letters.
But there had been no answer from the bishop. Should she continue watching Evangeline?
Perhaps he hadn't responded because the information wasn't important enough? He needed something more valuable. _Why doesn't he simply tell me what he wants?_
If this continued, she would truly have to lick Evangeline's toes to prove her usefulness.
"Let us praise her," Henna said suddenly.
"What?"
"You're the last one left, Dolline. The lady is deeply sorry that the other teachers departed so quickly."
"Really?" Dolline arranged her features into an expression of sympathy. "She's so kind."
She nodded, trying to flatter Henna, but the maid remained indifferent to the compliments directed at herself. Oddly enough, Henna only responded with pleasure when the praise was for Evangeline. _Why are the three sisters so different from one another?_
---
In the butler's office, Dolline received a substantial payment. Enough to sustain her for an entire week. She accepted the money with trembling gratitude.
"And also, Dolline—have you forgotten about the non-disclosure agreement?"
"Of course not." She kept her voice steady. "I have no one to speak to anyway."
"Then please continue to abide by its terms."
Dolline nodded, making a promise she had no intention of keeping. The moment she left the mansion, she would write to Javaniya. She had managed to learn something today.
"Well then, I'll take my leave."
After bidding the butler farewell, Dolline headed for the exit. But the instant she crossed the threshold, someone seized her by the clothes and hurled her to the floor. Fingers clamped around her throat, and she began to cough violently.
"*Cough*... *cough*... What—what are you doing?!"
Henna.
Dolline lay sprawled on the cold floor, her vision swimming. She could see Henna's shoes—polished, perfectly still. What had happened? Had she been exposed? Were the butler's words a warning?
"Die, and your loyalty will be proven," Henna whispered.
_Die?_ So they intended to kill her. They would murder her and cover up the evidence. The other teachers hadn't quit—they had been **killed**. _Damn Javaniya! He lured me into a trap!_
"She... she'll kill me...!"
Gasping for air, Dolline clawed desperately toward the door. But no matter how hard she crawled, Henna caught up in two unhurried steps.
A shadow loomed behind her. It was over. She couldn't escape.
Henna looked down at Dolline with something that might have been pity.
"Dolline," she said softly. "There's a window there."
Dolline raised her head.
"What?"
Where the door had been moments ago, there now gaped an open window. They were on the second floor. The fall wouldn't be fatal, but—*why had she mistaken a window for a door?*
She was going through withdrawal. She needed a fix. **Urgently.** Or at least holy water. *Right now!*
With shaking hands, Dolline retrieved the precious packet of powder she had been guarding like the apple of her eye. She pressed it to her nose and inhaled greedily.
The world around her lurched and spun, transforming into a kaleidoscope of colors. Henna's face distorted, split into two, disintegrated into dozens of faces, then collapsed back into one.
Something dark materialized on that rotating palette. A black drop fell onto the swirling surface and began to spread rapidly, consuming everything in its path.
"Oh, I think I was wrong," said something black and shapeless. Thirteen eyes stared at Dolline. Four mouths moved in unsettling unison. "She said to keep you alive for another two weeks."
The mouths twisted into what might have been a smile.
"But in this state, you won't last that long on your own."
The black creature vanished with a sound like wind through dead leaves. The world continued to swim before Dolline's eyes. Someone hauled her roughly to her feet. She recoiled in horror, but the stranger said a name: "Henna."
_Henna._ She had heard that name somewhere before...
Henna—with three dark circles marked upon her forehead like ritual brands—seized Dolline's shoulders, her grip painfully tight.
"Dolline. I'll repeat this once more, and remember it well: if you want to live, do not contradict the lady. Simply obey her. The lady is kind—she will forgive you all your sins."
"I... I understand..." Dolline accepted Henna's guidance. The maid led her toward the door. Beyond it, Dolline saw a cascade of petals drifting through the air. It was late spring, but the cherry trees at the Rohanson estate were still in bloom.
Evangeline hung from a cherry tree branch, swaying gently in the breeze.
"You've done well today. Have a safe journey," Henna said.
Dolline shuddered and came to her senses. She wiped her mouth and nose, not noticing the white powder that stained her fingers.
_What did I just do?_
Oh yes—she had collected her payment from the butler. Dolline touched her pocket. It was full.
"Ahem... ahem... The same to you. Goodbye," she managed, bidding farewell to the grim maid and leaving the Rohanson estate. _When did I get hurt?_ She noticed a scrape on her knee, the skin raw and weeping.
_What was I going to do when I left the estate?_ Oh yes—write a letter. To get holy water.
But then a problem arose. Dolline was bound by the rules of the Rohanson estate—she was forbidden to reveal anything that happened within its walls.
_What should I do? If I don't write the letter, I won't get the holy water._
After some deliberation, Dolline wrote the letter.
But it never reached Bishop Javaniya. It remained in her desk drawer, gathering dust.
---
## — The Letters —
> To Bishop Javaniya,
>
> Bishop, I have settled comfortably into the Rohanson estate.
>
> The Count isn't home; the estate is managed by a butler named Frox. The interview went very smoothly. The butler, apparently, isn't of noble birth—he didn't notice the forged documents and welcomed me with open arms. A drug addict as an etiquette teacher... amusing, isn't it?
>
> There are a great many rules in this estate. Even the governesses must obey them. Evangeline Rohanson must be quite particular. I've attached a list of the regulations. My lessons will begin with my next visit. Bishop, what exactly am I supposed to teach? Etiquette?
>
> Best wishes,
> Dolline Ponor
---
> To the bishop who does not answer letters,
>
> Well, yes, I understand. Don't talk nonsense and figure it out yourself, is that it? Fine—I figured it out. I borrowed a book from the library called "Basics of Etiquette." It's for ten-year-olds, admittedly, but it will suffice for appearances, won't it? Appreciate my efforts; a drug addict is human too.
>
> Best wishes,
> Dolline Ponor
---
> Mister Bishop, have you suddenly fallen into senility?
>
> Forgive my rudeness, but this is your fault. When I asked you about Evangeline Rohanson, you said, "An unusual girl," and left it at that. You clearly have vision problems. You need holy water more than I do.
>
> You live in a temple, so you see statues constantly. That's probably why Lady Evangeline seemed familiar to you. But what if one of those statues came to life? I would faint on the spot. That's precisely where I find myself now. Put yourself in my shoes: I must teach a living statue etiquette designed for ten-year-olds.
>
> Best wishes,
> Dolline Ponor, who recommends that you see a physician.
---
> To the bishop,
>
> I'm doing everything I can. Evangeline Rohanson appears to be more mysterious to others than even I imagined, so I'm gathering information slowly. But everyone here trembles with fear at the mere mention of her name. I've only managed to glean a little from Lantana, who loves to gossip.
>
> Lady Evangeline is terrifying and imposing, but if you don't cross her, she won't harm you—so there's nothing to fear. Besides, the servants handle everything, so there's no need to approach her directly. I asked about the third servant, Kanna, but Lantana—like that fellow Oliver, I believe—started cursing and told me never to mention that name again.
>
> She also told me about the two monsters the lady keeps on the estate, about the maid Daisy who quit and then returned, and about the new inhabitants of the mansion. I've never met such a chatterbox in my life.
>
> I asked why she was telling me all this, since I might reveal everything. And she said, "You won't reveal anything." What does that mean? Do I seem trustworthy?
>
> I await your reward,
> Dolline Ponor
---
> Mr. Bishop, do you even read my letters?
>
> You promised to send me a bottle of holy water in advance once I settled into the Rohanson estate. I waited patiently, not wanting to rush you. Do you know how many letters I've sent you by now?
>
> The withdrawal symptoms are worsening. I fear I won't be able to carry out your orders much longer. No, that's not a threat. Who am I to threaten a bishop? Just... please send me the cure... I mean, the holy water. Hurry.
>
> All the teachers except me and one other have quit. We couldn't even last a single day. You see how hard I'm trying, don't you?
>
> Hoping for your mercy,
> Dolline
---
> To the bishop,
>
> Bishop, are you just using me? **Bastard!** I told you I'm going through withdrawal! I hear voices all day long calling me to die. I'm almost out of medication, and it's the only thing keeping me sane. I'll have to teach etiquette while high! Evangeline Rohanson, they say, has lost her memory. Perhaps she was on something too? This place is strange. I'm walking on meat. I saw Evangeline Rohanson hanged. Today, I accidentally crushed my eyeball. I'll leave it at that.
>
> Dolline
---
> To the bishop,
>
> I'm afraid of the Lady... ~~[traces of crossing out]~~ Lord Bishop, the lady is very kind. She will forgive me all my sins—even the fact that I spied on her and reported her every move to you. I love her more than you, who never answer my letters. This is my final correspondence. I like this mansion. I worship Lady Evangeline. She will save me.
>
> Dolline Ponor, from the Rohanson estate.
---
> To Dolline Ponor,
>
> Dolline, how are things progressing with my assignment? I'm not rushing you, but you haven't written to me once. I know you've secured the position, but without your reports, I'm beginning to worry. Are you alright? I'm very curious to know how you're getting on at Rohanson Manor. Tell me about your mistress, Lady Evangeline. I trust you haven't forgotten our agreement.
>
> From the very heart of the world,
> Javaniya, God's Chosen One
---
"Sir Butler, this letter is for Dolline. What shall we do? Inform the lady?"
"No." The butler's voice was quiet but firm. "If the lady finds out, it could end badly. Better to give the letter to Sir Gabriel. He's expected to arrive today. Daisy, please handle it."
"Understood, Mr. Butler."
"Let us pray that God's chosen one makes a wise decision."
---
At that hour when shadows grew shorter and the day reached its peak, the Rohanson estate—usually shrouded in silence so as not to disturb Evangeline's sleep—was surprisingly alive with noise.
Four carriages stood at the gate, and servants hurried back and forth, helping to unload the luggage.
"Your rooms are on the second floor. We'll assist with the transport."
"Thank you for your help."
"Hey, be careful! The fabric is dragging on the ground!"
Embroidered silks, multicolored fabrics, delicate lace... there were so many sample catalogs alone that two servants could barely hold them all.
"So much of everything..." Rafaella murmured, involuntarily awed by the sheer quantity. At that moment, something struck her squarely between the shoulder blades. There was a resounding *smack*, and Rafaella staggered forward, nearly falling.
"Ow! That hurt, Misha!"
"Was I supposed to pet you? Stop standing there like a pillar of iron and help unload!"
"What? *Me?* I'm a knight!"
"And do you think they are my personal porters?"
Artemisia pointed at their colleagues in the uniforms of the Knights of Paralos, who scurried back and forth like industrious ants, hauling luggage. Thanks to their physical training, they carried twice the weight of ordinary servants with ease.
"Uriel, Seraph..."
Even the perpetually lazy Jeremiah had been conscripted into service. Apart from the captain, who had already gone inside the mansion, there wasn't a single idle knight in sight.
Rafaella reluctantly approached one of the boxes but immediately stopped, turning back with a suspicious look.
"Misha, why don't you say anything to your brother?"
"...Michelle has a headache right now."
Artemisia gazed at Michelle with such profound compassion, as though she were looking upon the most pitiable creature in existence. Rafaella decided on a more direct approach. A headache was a headache, but idle hands were wasted hands.
"Eh..."
Michelle stood with his eyes closed, inhaling deeply through his nose, an expression of near-religious ecstasy on his face. Ignoring Artemisia's furious glare, Rafaella draped a companionable arm around Michelle's shoulders.
"Michelle, why are you just standing here?"
"I breathe in the pristine air," he replied, his voice reverent. "Thanks to Lady Evangeline's presence, it is filled with the sweetest fragrance. I have never seen so many cherry blossoms in bloom at once. How I long to become part of this beautiful landscape... but alas, I must atone for my sins among the Knights of Paralos."
"What a lunatic..." Rafaella swiftly withdrew her arm, goosebumps prickling across her skin.