APIBAGS Chapter 26

I'd figured that since Daisy and Jelly had a whole backstory together, she was probably secondary-heroine material—the closest friend type, maybe. But Kanna hating her meant I'd called it wrong.

So then the answer's obvious, right? I possessed the villainess, so the genre flipped to an 'evil girl possession' story—and since Kanna, the original heroine, is obsessed with me, there's no way she'd block my romance route. So they had to insert a secondary villainess type instead! The love-obstacle type—the one that makes the romance properly gut-wrenching!

That explained the sudden appearance of a character with existing connections. I'd been wondering why someone with apparent history had materialized so abruptly. A saint versus a villainess? The opposition angle is absolutely locked in.

So going forward, Daisy would make occasional appearances to derail my relationships with Gabriel and Jelly.

I would have loved to simply cheer them on. Go ahead, enjoy yourselves. But Evangeline was the villainess. And in this genre, a villainess who loses all her romantic standing doesn't drift peacefully into obscurity—she goes directly off a cliff. I had no choice.

Gabriel, sorry. I don't exactly enjoy running this fishing ground thing either.

Gabriel, with no knowledge of the future I'd just mapped for him, pulled my chair out with impeccable manners.

"Please, sit."

"Why did you come instead of Uriel? Where is Uriel?"

"At the infirmary. She's not hurt—Michel."

"Michel?"

"It's a long explanation..."

Raphaela began to brief Gabriel on the sequence of events: how he'd run into me and Uriel while escorting Daisy out, how a crowd of voices had drawn them to a painting that was on fire.

Gabriel took in the word painting without so much as a flicker.

"The painting burned, you say..."

"Yes. The cause is unclear. We'll need to hear from those present."

A shrug from Raphaela. The cause isn't unclear—someone set it. Whether that someone would admit it was the question. They probably wouldn't. But there had been plenty of witnesses, so the truth would come out regardless.

"Does Lady Rohanson have any guesses?"

I started to answer directly, then hesitated. What if this sounds like I'm accusing someone unfairly? But the painting didn't catch fire on its own. Someone in that room had done it. And honestly, Raphaela and Michel both struck me as somewhat suspicious—I'd arrived late enough that Michel was already burning.

"Not really."

Better to hedge. Gabriel seemed to accept that without complaint.

Raphaela continued: how Michel had escaped from confinement and then plunged directly into the burning painting; how I'd doused the fire with holy water.

Wait, he just ran into it? I was hearing this part for the first time too. He chose to go in? Why would anyone do that? So that's why everyone was standing there frozen.

Gabriel listened to this act of madness without lifting a single eyebrow. Of course—he was only warm for his own heroine. If only he'd been born in the north, he'd be truly perfect.

"Thank you for saving Michel."

He lowered his head. Very on-brand—the righteous knight-lead who looks after his own people. I felt a faint, grateful relief. I only did it out of conscience, but it felt like I'd stacked one favorability point with Gabriel. Enough to cancel out at least one of Evangeline's past misdeeds.

"That Jabaniya was present does seem fortunate."

"Does it?"

"His position aligns with ours. At least for the purpose of containing this incident."

"I suppose so. He'll be useful for keeping it quiet."

His Excellency disapproved of the Donau painting and had been working to have it removed—Gabriel filled me in on where things stood from here, speaking from his read of the situation rather than anything he'd witnessed directly.

The old-guard Bishop had never been fond of the Donau painting. The temple would push to cover up a fire incident that damaged its reputation. The Bishop had been building a case against the painting; that groundwork would smooth the process considerably now that it was ash.

"Everything I've been investigating will help as well."

An appeal—I've been doing my part too. Alright. I was supposed to be running a fishing ground operation. So, okay. React right now, at exactly this beat—that's how you tend the fish pond.

"Is that so? I'd be curious what you've done."

That was sufficient. I still had some dignity as the villainess. I couldn't perform a sudden personality transplant into bright, warm heroine energy—Oh, you worked so hard for me, how touching! I added a follow-up to keep it from sounding too clipped.

"You must have summoned me here because a witness came forward."

Right. Daisy had just been here giving testimony. She'd talked about Evangeline being a villainess—but clearly hadn't handed over everything, since Gabriel seemed composed.

Let me test this.

"So what did you hear?"

"Commander!"

Sharp as always. Raphaela had clearly clocked that his superior was walking into a love-trial situation and was trying to give him a hint. I gave him a single look; he startled and sealed his mouth.

"I was speaking to Sir Gabriel."

Back to Gabriel. Jet-black hair, and beneath it those unusually clear blue eyes. Like a blue star floating there—made of nothing but sea and sky, no land anywhere to put your feet down. When my face appeared in that gaze, I had the sudden sense that I was the first person who'd ever left footprints on it. The first one to make it dirty.

"What did Daisy tell you?"

He didn't look away. Neither did I—busy admiring the view. Wow. Nearly got swept away for a second there. The rom-fantasy male lead thing is real—that face is genuinely on another level. Jelly's good-looking too, but being a sub-lead shows. He just can't touch Gabriel.

"About me, I'd imagine."

"As a matter of fact, I heard nothing about you."

That's a lie. Daisy said something. But if he was going to be so brazen about it, Gabriel handed me a page of documents.

"The testimony of the witness who just left."

Condensed notes on Daisy's statement. The first page dealt with a convent—an abbot who had used a summoning circle identical to the one from the temple painting, allegedly obtained miraculous abilities through it, and had then used those abilities for various misdeeds.

Wait. My summoning circle—how far has it spread?!

And this person had succeeded in summoning something! A spirit, by the sound of it! Donau had summoned a fire spirit, so presumably the same category—

Why don't I have a spirit?! I'm the only one left out!

I don't need a werewolf! Just swap it out for a small, cute spirit! And how did everyone else figure out the summoning method?! Why am I the only one left out of this?!

Hold on. Was the painting catching fire related to this too? The abbot trying to monopolize the summoning circle—using a fire spirit somehow, striking remotely. Vile. Using my circle however they please—technically my mother's, but still.

"I'd very much like to meet this priest."

If I ever did, I would grab him by the collar and shake every secret loose. A firm commitment.

Right—that wasn't the point. I'd gotten distracted by spirits and nearly lost the thread entirely. I turned the page.

Evangeline Rohanson. I read that far.

And then my vision fractured.

Like glass going to pieces, and then the letters themselves began to break—each character splitting into dozens of shards, rearranging themselves into something unreadable. The words weren't just illegible. They were impossible.

□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□.

□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□□.

Whathow—what is this—

What—what even is this?! Why did I go illiterate again, of ALL moments—?!

No, actually—why am I still the only one who doesn't have a spirit? The summoning circle has apparently been circulating freely, conjuring spirits left and right, and I'm the one sitting here illiterate AGAIN! This is genuinely unfair!

"I heard nothing."

Gabriel said it with perfect composure, entirely confident.

He couldn't know my translation had just collapsed. So either he was genuinely innocent and there was nothing about me, or—Daisy softened the account considerably, or Gabriel is too far gone to read it straight.

He handed the document across. "You may keep it."

I wondered how I was going to read it later when the system came back online. He read my mind. Was this the male lead's intuition at work?

I tore the page neatly and passed it to Kanna. Kanna had been glaring at the document with intent to destroy it—she took it with obvious reluctance and tucked it somewhere inside her clothes.

Why were you staring at it like that? Unless—

Wait—surely Kanna isn't illiterate too?

I'd assumed the heroine could read, obviously. But then again—this is one of those bleak, harrowing rofan settings. They probably stuck in the illiteracy just to put her through more. Grind her down as much as possible. I shouldn't have been relying so heavily on my translation system in the first place. We'll study letters together when we get home.

"Are you satisfied?"

I was. If he'd simply kept it, I'd have been uneasy—but handing it over was better. I could read it when the system recovered.

"Completely."

"I invited you here to let you see it. I did say earlier, didn't I—that I wished to be of assistance."

He's framing it as: this was always yours to see, I was never going to hide it. I was supposed to be running this fishing ground operation, and instead I was getting fished. Smooth talker.

"Is that right? I'd like to know what you've done, then."

That much is enough for now. There was a point to maintain. I couldn't suddenly transform into a sun-drenched heroine—Oh, you've been working so hard for me, I'm so moved! I added something to keep it from sounding too brief:

"You must have summoned me here because a witness came forward."

...Wait—didn't I just say that? Exact same line. ...Fish pond management: failed.

A knock at the door.

"Come in."

"Commander. A message from Bishop Jabaniya, sir."

"He says Lady Rohanson's holy water has been properly delivered to her escort. He also asks if the Commander might be available to meet at your convenience."

"Understood. You may go."

"Yes, sir."

Jelly had done his errand well, it seemed. I'd count the bottles when I got back to make sure the number was right.

Well. Time to go, then.