Almost immediately after Mariel's birth, the girls' father, Cloud, had succumbed to a wasting illness. And when Mariel was only three, their mother, Adele Charts, died tragically. Unlike Asella—who at least possessed seven years of happy memories with her parents—Mariel had no such treasures to hold. When she turned seven, she was forcibly separated from her sister and taken away from her home.
It would be fair to say that Mariel never truly had a childhood. She had been forced to grow up far too early. Consequently, she possessed a wisdom that belied her years.
Asella crouched before her sister and gazed into eyes so remarkably similar to her own. Then she gently squeezed those chubby cheeks and looked into her face with quiet sorrow.
"I saw you today."
"You did?"
"Yes. I was in the front row." Mariel's eyes sparkled. "Sister, you were like an angel descended from heaven."
"Really?" Guilt flickered across Asella's face.
At that moment, Mariel threw herself into her arms.
"Sister! Congratulations on your marriage!"
Asella hesitated, uncertain how to respond. She could easily accept congratulations from strangers—but she didn't want to deceive Mariel.
While she wavered, Mariel pulled back and studied her sister's face intently.
"You'll be living in His Highness's house now, won't you?"
The words jolted Asella back to her senses, her mind sharpening with purpose.
"Mariel, there's something I need to tell you."
"What is it?" The girl tilted her head curiously.
A faint smile touched Asella's lips.
"You're coming with us."
"Hm?"
Asella continued, watching her sister's stunned expression unfold.
"You'll prepare properly for the Academy examination."
Mariel blinked in disbelief, then asked hesitantly, "That's not true, is it? You're just trying to cheer me up—to make me feel less upset about you leaving."
"Have I ever lied to you?"
"No." Mariel's voice grew soft with wonder. "Sister always keeps her promises." Her eyes widened further, round as coins. "So it's *true*?"
"Yes."
Mariel's entire face illuminated with joy.
"Sister!" She threw her arms around Asella and squeezed tight.
"Are you happy?"
"So happy! I'll study hard. I won't cause you any problems. I'll *definitely* get into the Academy."
"Of course you will, dear."
"Ah!" Mariel smiled—a knowing expression far beyond her years. "He really turned out to be a good man. But I suppose that's just who he is."
Asella, who had been gently stroking the girl's hair, went rigid.
"Who are you talking about?"
"His Highness, the Archduke."
Asella's pupils trembled with sudden anxiety.
"What makes you think that? Have you spoken to the Archduke?"
"Mm-hm. He even patted my head when I greeted him."
A violent shudder coursed through Asella's body. The shock struck her like a hammer blow to the skull.
"When was this?"
Calix Benvito was not the sort of man to display warmth or friendliness. Why would he show kindness to a child without reason?
_"I'll take charge of Mariel Charts' training. It would be best to take your sister with you. Mariel Charts is better off with you."_
His words echoed through her mind with new, sinister weight.
*What if Calix Benvito's true target isn't me—but my sister, Mariel Charts?*
If that was truly the case...
Asella felt the room tilt. She swayed on her feet.
"Sister, what's wrong?" Mariel grasped her hand, worry flooding her young face.
Seeing the girl's frightened expression, Asella forced herself to steady. *I should have thought this through carefully before agreeing. What if I was wrong?* No—she had to remain vigilant. She had to keep Mariel safe at all costs.
"Mariel, listen carefully to what I'm about to tell you."
"Yes, sister."
"You'll be ten soon. Your abilities may begin to manifest." Asella paused, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "You **must not** tell anyone about this."
"Why?"
Asella swallowed, her throat painfully dry. How could she explain to a child that it was so dangerous she could be killed for it?
"Because it's a secret. You know that some things must be kept hidden."
"Mm. Can I tell my sister?"
"No one. You can't tell *anyone*."
It was impossible to know exactly where the prince's eyes and ears were hidden within his own castle. It would be safer not to speak of such things at all.
"Then... when *can* I tell you about it?"
"When you can protect yourself." Asella released a heavy sigh.
It was agonizing to realize that this single request was the only protection she could offer her sister.
"Promise me you'll do as I've asked."
"I promise."
Only after hearing her sister's vow repeated several times did Asella's racing heart begin to calm. *We must be prepared for anything. There's no such thing as a perfect secret. If Mariel discovers magical abilities, she won't be able to hide them forever—especially not in Benvito Castle. I must find a way.*
---
## — Benvito's Quarters —
The room assigned to Calix Benvito carried the sharp scent of new furniture. Philip had updated the wallpaper and furnishings in the spacious chamber—naturally, all expenses covered by the Benvito household.
"Your Highness, it's Raizen."
"Enter."
Throughout the evening, Raizen had been exceptionally busy. And indeed, there was a great deal requiring attention. The master had placed particular importance on resolving the matter of the maid, Cecile, who had nearly become a victim of violence in this house.
"Arrange proper employment for her and provide compensation—enough that she won't face hardship."
As Cecile, overflowing with gratitude, bowed deeply several times, Raizen replied curtly:
"Thank Her Highness, the Grand Duchess. Those were her orders."
*This woman.*
Her actions had been completely unexpected. Everyone knew how stupid and cruel Anthony Charts was. Having worked in this house for over a month, Cecile couldn't have been ignorant of it. And yet, she had rushed to Asella's aid without considering the consequences. She could have turned a blind eye, just like everyone else. After all, squabbles between masters were none of a servant's concern.
But if you examined it closely, Asella had done the same. She hadn't simply passed by. She had extended a helping hand to a servant she didn't even know—while surrounded on all sides by people who despised her.
Raizen recalled meeting the Grand Duchess a month ago. He had been surprised then, too. All the information gathered on His Highness's orders had suddenly seemed useless. Raizen intuitively sensed that she was as unpredictable as his master himself.
"Your orders—" Raizen opened his mouth to report on the evening's progress.
But Calix raised his hand, halting him mid-sentence. He wanted to know only one thing.
"Did you send the message?" he asked curtly, offering no further explanation.
But this didn't trouble Raizen.
"Yes. I guarantee everything will be ready by the time you arrive."
At that very moment, work was proceeding at full speed within Benvito Castle to furnish a nursery for Mariel Charts—positioned directly beside the Grand Duchess's chambers.
Without delays, the journey to the principality would take at least a week. But that was clearly insufficient time to complete the nursery. Therefore, every available servant in the castle had been reassigned to this task.
"Fill the room with everything children enjoy. Toys, whatever else is appropriate—so the girl won't feel too anxious finding herself in an unfamiliar place." Calix issued the orders with apparent indifference.
"We've accounted for that. I believe she'll be pleased."
The prince suddenly remembered those blue eyes, filled with concern for her only sister. If Mariel was sad, then *she* would be sad too. The thought unsettled him. However, he firmly convinced himself that such considerations were merely practical—a way to avoid creating unnecessary problems.
Standing nearby, Raizen thoughtfully pinched the bridge of his nose and decided further discussion would be unnecessary. The renovations were, in fact, far more extensive than they appeared. The walls required thickening to completely block extraneous sounds in the room adjacent to the Grand Duchess's chambers.
The little girl was not supposed to know anything about *adult* nights.
"Rest assured—everything will be ready for your arrival." Raizen Cardon was, above all else, a supremely capable secretary.
Just then, a faint chime sounded. Raizen glanced at his watch and pressed a button. The soft, alarming tone ceased.
"Time for your tea, Your Highness."
He withdrew a small silver case from his pocket. Pressing the center of its lid, he watched it slide downward with a mechanical whisper. A tiny silver needle emerged, leaving a small bead of blood on Raizen's fingertip. The case, sealed with specialized magic, could only be opened by those the prince had designated. The instant the blood touched the silver surface, the lid snapped open.
Inside lay a strange black powder.
With practiced movements, Raizen prepared boiling water, poured it into a cup, then added a precise teaspoon of the powder. It dissolved instantly, the liquid thickening into something viscous and dark. The resulting concoction resembled poison far more than tea.
Calix watched the preparation with a blank expression. Once the solution was ready, he drank it down in a single swallow.
The drink possessed neither taste nor smell. But he *despised* it.
*I suppose I'll have to drink this until I die. But I'll never grow accustomed to it.*
Every time Calix consumed this tea, an inexplicable unease settled into his bones. The more he dwelt upon it, the more his blood seemed to run cold. It was a curse—passed down through the Benvito bloodline for generations.
"Raizen." He placed the empty cup upon its saucer and addressed his secretary in a low voice.
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Prepare a document stripping Philip of his rights."
Raizen couldn't entirely conceal his surprise. He rarely questioned the reasons or purposes behind his master's orders.
But not this time.
Lately, too much had become unclear. *What was this all about?*