Madame Toten seemed about to defend me, so I stopped her with a pointed glance. If they were being this harsh toward Gabriel—a man of unquestionable authority—then my chaperone had only to open her mouth before being immediately declared an accomplice.
"Captain Musetta, the crucial point is that I had already given the dagger to His Highness, blade or no blade. It was out of my hands. How could I possibly have stabbed him with it?"
I pointed out that the premise itself was flawed from the start. Even if the murder weapon had truly been my dagger, that alone wouldn't prove I was the culprit.
"Fine, but instead of apologizing for bringing a weapon that *became* a murder weapon, you stand here acting insolent!"
"Captain Musetta. You had better calm yourself."
As the furious captain shouted at me, a new voice intervened—smooth and measured, like cold water poured over flames.
"Bishop Marik..." Musetta's rage faltered. "Didn't you leave?"
*What? Who? Bishop Marik?* Could this really be the exorcist I'd heard so much about?
But Gabriel had clearly told me that Bishop Marik had returned to the temple. Why was she here again?
"I sensed an ominous energy and hurried back. But I couldn't have imagined such a terrifying sight awaited me."
A kindly voice uttered a prayer in solemn tones. A white veil draped over a carefully arranged cassock, concealing her face entirely.
*Where exactly did she sense this sinister energy?!* If the situation deteriorated even slightly, I'd be declared not only the Crown Prince's murderer but also some manner of evil spirit—after which a devastating combo of torture and execution awaited me!
"It is most unfortunate that we must meet under such circumstances. My name is Marik, and I am a servant of God."
"Evangeline Rohanson."
Once Bishop Marik had introduced herself, I gave my name as well. I'd always imagined an exorcist as harsh and stern, but perhaps because of her veil, Bishop Marik appeared almost nun-like. Now I understood why Raphael had called her merciful to her flock—though she would likely be merciless to *me*.
"This is the investigation into the murder of His Highness the Crown Prince, which took place within the imperial palace. Bishop Marik should not interfere. I ask you to mind your own affairs."
Captain Musetta spoke with obvious hostility. Whatever enmity connected them ran deep.
Bishop Marik extended a single finger and pointed toward the ceiling, revealing hands covered in scars that resembled burns—the flesh warped and mottled, as though she had reached into fire and refused to withdraw.
"This is not interference. Captain Musetta, do you truly believe *human* power could have suspended His Highness from the ceiling?"
Her finger shifted direction, pointing toward the floor.
"This..."
All this time, mesmerized by the body hanging from the chandelier, I hadn't noticed the pattern drawn beneath our feet. I stepped back, skirting the crimson lines, and the design revealed itself fully.
"Since something *sinister* is clearly involved, I may now intervene. Wouldn't you agree?"
A summoning circle. Painted in blood across the marble floor.
*My* summoning circle. Who had stolen it *this* time?!
"Isn't that right, my lady?"
Bishop Marik turned to me as if seeking support.
*"Something sinister" sounds rather harsh, Madam Bishop!* The spirits would be offended to hear themselves described that way! But given that spirits were virtually unknown in this world, I could understand why the supernatural was treated as inherently evil.
If the circle was here, then both the sudden darkness and the prince's death must be connected to spirits. That was why they were called *evil* spirits. If someone was going to use spirits like this, they should have given them to *me*!
But hadn't Gabriel said my affinity with spirits was essentially zero—that any summoning circle would be neutralized in my presence? Why had this one worked? Was my affinity slowly building?
For a moment, I'd been overjoyed at the thought of summoning spirits myself. Then reality crashed back. With my neck on the line, what difference did it make whether my abilities had developed or not?
"You will undoubtedly require assistance with this matter. Therefore, the temple will take responsibility for Lady Rohanson's custody—"
"Absolutely not!" Captain Musetta's voice cracked like a whip. "You want me to hand over a suspect in the Crown Prince's murder to the *temple*? Even if this woman is a witch or a demon, punishment will be meted out by the imperial palace!"
Captain Musetta glared at Bishop Marik with bloodshot eyes.
*But I'm not a witch or a demon... I'm just a repentant villain. And not even a criminal...*
"You seem particularly hostile toward me, Captain."
"You're correct. Because didn't your precious temple consider His Highness an *eyesore*? I cannot trust you. For all I know, you may have toasted his death."
So there was a fierce struggle for power between the imperial palace and the temple.
The scale of this confrontation was alarming. *Please don't fight over me...* But I didn't dare voice the thought. If I had to choose, let Captain Musetta win. A swift execution was far preferable to being tortured by an exorcist!
Apparently my silent wish came true. Bishop Marik relented. With the Crown Prince dead, Captain Musetta's authority carried more weight.
"Then escort Evangeline Rohanson to the prison!"
"Yes, sir!"
On Captain Musetta's command, the knights of the imperial palace surrounded me in coordinated formation.
*Ah... So they were the ones deciding my fate?* Tears suddenly pricked at my eyes. Gabriel had appeared so dramatically earlier, like something out of a play—but why was he nowhere to be seen now? Wasn't this supposed to be the most critical moment?
"Lady Rohanson!"
Instead of Gabriel, Madame Toten tried to protect me, stepping directly into my path. I caught her hand before she could create a scene, glancing meaningfully at Captain Musetta and Bishop Marik.
"Madame Toten. Please look after my maid. I'll be fine—take Hena out of here by claiming she's one of your servants."
I was an aristocrat, and I hadn't yet been officially declared a criminal. They probably wouldn't execute me on the spot. But Hena was a different matter entirely. They might take out their frustration on her in my stead. It was fortunate we'd arrived at the palace in the same carriage as Madame Toten. If she vouched for Hena as her own maid, the girl could return safely.
"And *you*, Madame Toten—don't try to protect me. You have Ryder to think of. Be careful."
*If Bishop Marik catches you in her net, she might exile Melek as well.*
"And you."
Finally, my gaze found a handsome, blond servant standing among the palace staff. I locked eyes with him and commanded him to behave. His angelic face contorted with displeasure. My attention lingered on the choker around his neck.
"Sit still until I call you, Pudding."
I didn't know why he'd infiltrated the palace disguised as a servant, but that golden-haired beauty was undoubtedly my Pudding. He was wearing *my* necklace. I couldn't fail to recognize him.
"And when will you call?"
Pudding replied with a pout.
"When I want jelly."
---
Captain Musetta escorted me to the underground prison personally. I'd expected handcuffs, or at least chains around my wrists, but apparently since I remained only a suspect, they didn't restrain me.
The cell was cramped and squalid—cold stone walls slick with moisture, the air heavy with mildew and something fouler beneath. At least they'd locked me in solitary confinement rather than throwing me in with other criminals.
"Captain Musetta. Do you truly believe I killed His Highness?"
Captain Musetta, who had been securing the lock, paused. He turned and pierced me with a gaze sharp enough to flay skin from bone. From that look alone, I half-expected to be torn apart where I stood.
"There's blood on your dress, and you brought the murder weapon. Other than Lady Rohanson, I simply cannot think of a suitable candidate." He hesitated. "Unless... No. Frankly, I suspect Bishop Marik nearly as much as I suspect you. But when His Highness was murdered, she—like myself—was outside the audience chamber."
So Captain Musetta had *another* suspect: Bishop Marik herself?
*It seems you've been watching detective shows, Captain.* Indeed, the true criminal was often the one who least resembled a suspect. It was entirely possible that Bishop Marik—whose alibi appeared impeccable—could be the real killer.
Musetta had apparently ruled her out because she'd been outside the hall. But the truth was, wherever Bishop Marik had physically stood, she could have used the summoning circle to control spirits and orchestrate the incident from anywhere. The alibi didn't hold!
But Captain Musetta knew nothing about the existence of spirits. Explaining this wasn't going to be simple. While I searched for the right words, he straightened and moved toward the door.
"I don't know why I'm telling you all this. I hope there are solid grounds for your innocence, Lady Rohanson."
With those words, Captain Musetta departed.
*So he thinks my composure stems from innocence? Or was that a warning that I'd be killed if found guilty?*
I sighed heavily. *Yes. Execution is the villain's fate.* But then the protagonist was supposed to visit the imprisoned villain, wasn't that how these stories went?
And the cliché held true. Belatedly, Gabriel finally appeared for our date.
"I'm sorry." His voice was rough with guilt. "I should have been there for you."
Feeling responsible that such a catastrophe had unfolded in his absence, Gabriel stood before the bars with his head bowed, gripping the iron with infinite regret.
*Yes, you're late. I was beginning to think you'd run off to commission another dress.*
Noticing my bare shoulders, he removed his cloak and draped it carefully over me, his fingers lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.
"I'm sorry that our agreement put you in this position."
*What agreement?* Was he referring to the one where I was supposed to stay quiet and avoid looking like a villain while he changed his clothes?
"If I'd caused a scene, it would have looked even more suspicious."
Resisting arrest would have been tantamount to a voluntary confession. Right now, I was only a suspect. But if I'd fought back, I could have been executed on the spot. So voluntarily entering the prison had actually been the best option—and the reason I could see Gabriel now.
"Do you know how the situation is developing?"
"Yes. Madame Toten told me everything. I informed Captain Musetta about the blade, but he ignored me. Furthermore, the dagger wasn't found among the gifts His Highness received."
The blade that had pierced the Crown Prince's heart was undoubtedly a genuine weapon with a sharpened edge. Gabriel and I reached the same conclusion: there had been *two* identical daggers.
It would have been convenient if both had remained in the hall, but things were more complicated. The decorative dagger I'd given the Crown Prince had vanished immediately after delivery. The preparations for my frame-up had been meticulous.
Even if I hadn't killed the Crown Prince, they intended to accuse me of bringing a weapon into the audience hall—which could itself be construed as attempted murder. Furthermore, every witness who had seen me hand over the bladeless dagger was closely connected to me. That was likely why Captain Musetta, suspecting Gabriel as well, had assigned imperial palace knights to monitor him.
"Captain Gabriel, it appears you are providing far too much information to the criminal."
One of the imperial knights interrupted our conversation, his tone sharp with accusation.