APIBAGS Chapter 54

The child in Lady Toten's arms doesn't look a day over six.

One look and it's obvious—this is the sick son they mentioned. Worse than I'd expected. I think I understand now why the butler said hopeless.

"Butler! What were you doing, letting Ryder out instead of sending him back?"

Lady Toten's sharp reprimand makes grandfather butler bow his head in contrition.

"Please don't scold him. I told him not to stop me."

"Ryder..."

She strokes his hair the way you'd handle something that might shatter—very, very carefully.

"Did you come looking for me because I wasn't there?"

"Yes. And a guest came. I couldn't just stay in bed."

All three of them—Lady Toten, grandfather butler, and the child—look straight at me.

Right. All because of me.

I want to crawl behind Henna and disappear, but if I do that, there'll be a new rumor that Evangeline can't even handle embarrassment without hiding behind her maid. I hold my ground through sheer force of will.

"Cough. I'm Ryder Toten, my lady."

The sound barely carries. He barely has the strength for it. Ryder coughs his way through the introduction and the guilt gets worse. I should have just told Lady Toten to come to Rohanson estate.

Lady Toten is giving me the look of someone waiting for me to return the greeting, so I take hold of my skirt.

"I'm Evangeline Rohanson. Thank you for receiving me, Master Ryder, when you're not feeling well."

I give the greeting Dolly taught me my best—formal, precise, exactly as demonstrated—and Lady Toten and Ryder both stare at me strangely. Lady Toten averts her eyes.

Apparently too much to look at.

Not laughing at my awful greeting and pretending not to see—quite considerate of her, actually.

"Are you satisfied now? The coughing is bad. Come along, let's go in."

"Cough, cough. Yes, Mother. Lady Rohanson, I'm afraid I'll have to excuse myself, as I'm not feeling well."

Lady Toten urges Ryder back to his room now that he's greeted the guest. The child's balance is poor, but he doesn't allow himself to be carried. He walks on his own feet, assisted but upright, and makes his way out.

"Rest well."

Lady Toten watches his retreating back in silence. When she finally speaks, she keeps her voice very low—small enough that Ryder won't hear.

"How old does he look to you?"

"About six."

"Ryder is eight. But the illness makes him look much younger."

Hm. Young-looking child. No wonder he was speaking with such adult ease. Lady Toten's words confirm it—it's the illness making him seem so small.

Lady Toten doesn't return to her seat until Ryder is gone from view entirely. When she does, the perfection she was maintaining is simply gone. She leans into her chair, posture collapsed, looking thoroughly exhausted.

"...You're right. You were honest with me, so I'll speak honestly too. The truth is—I wanted to see with my own eyes how someone holy water couldn't heal had recovered."

Finally. She admits it.

"I wondered how it was possible, for someone holy water didn't work on."

Lady Toten glances sideways. Following her gaze: the sun god symbol on the wall. Not a simple mark—intricately carved, elaborately detailed, the same symbol I've seen on Gabriel's uniform. What kind of symbol ends up this ornate. Gabriel would never manage to draw this, given how he arranged Donau's corpse to look like a moth with wings.

"It was too obvious a trick—of course you'd see through it. But I didn't expect you to bring it up first."

"The marquessate's butler tipped me off in advance."

"The butler...?"

"Yes. He serves the marquessate with exceptional loyalty. Working hard behind the scenes where you can't see."

Grandfather butler—I didn't forget to praise you. When you get that bonus later, you'll know who to thank, right.

Lady Toten clearly hadn't known the butler was working so hard behind the scenes—she keeps murmuring the butler, the butler? repeatedly. Deciding whether to give a raise. Or calculating how much.

When she's apparently settled on an amount and stops muttering, she returns to the original subject.

"Since you said it first—I dare to ask. Is there a cure for Ryder? How did you recover? Please, tell me. If Ryder could improve even a little, I would give anything..."

The dreaded moment has arrived.

Lady Toten must think salvation has descended. And I have to shatter that. This must be exactly what it feels like to be a doctor delivering a death sentence. I might as well prepare to be grabbed by the collar.

"I'm sorry to disappoint—but there is no method."

"What?"

She asks like she's misheard. I almost smile—you can't spit on a smiling face, after all—but it hits me a beat too late that in this particular situation that reads as psychopathic. I switch to a serious expression. But that might also look slightly unhinged.

I really have no talent for acting...

"It's a lie—it has to be a lie. You're just hiding it from me. Was the price I offered too little? I can hand over the marquessate. Lady Rohanson—please. Please tell me."

Lady Toten is convinced I'm concealing the truth. She's now added the marquessate to her list. With every word, her body leans further toward me.

"There truly is nothing you can do."

That sight is too pitiable. I take her by the shoulders.

"Why won't you say? Is it because I approached you by using Gabriel? I did have an ulterior motive—but isn't it something that benefits you? Please. Please, take pity on Ryder. He's in a situation similar to yours."

Lady Toten looks like she's about to cry. The grief welling up inside her is written openly across her face.

But.

What am I supposed to do—there really isn't anything. Evangeline just died and I possessed her at the right moment. She really doesn't believe me. This is why grandfather butler told me to prepare myself. And grandfather butler, for the record, your special mission is currently failing magnificently.

Can't do this. Need another approach. I need to communicate that there is simply nothing to tell.

Ah. The rumors.

"You haven't heard the rumor, have you—that I'm not the real 'Evangeline'?"

"Surely that rumor isn't true. Please don't tease me. Lady Rohanson's bearing isn't something that can be learned in a day or two."

Failed.

This is all Dolly's fault for teaching me too well. Not a day or two—it was two weeks, thank you very much. My talent is terrifying.

I need an excuse Lady Toten will immediately accept and step back from. Nothing comes to mind. I look desperately toward Henna for help, and Henna gives me a hint.

Our Henna might be a genius.

Right. Lady Toten is a devout sun god believer—this approach should work. I lean in like I'm sharing a very private secret and whisper in Lady Toten's ear.

"I summoned a demon."

"...Pardon?"

"I asked the demon to let Evangeline Rohanson live."

The word Henna mouthed to me was Demon. After I said it she flinched and covered her mouth. Was she that amazed by her own brilliant idea.

I put on the smile that once frightened Donau.

I may be terrible at acting, but I'm quite good at imitating a villainess. Or perhaps it's simply that because Evangeline is a villainess, anything I do gets filtered as evil regardless.

"Can you abandon the Rahel you love so much and lean on a demon?"

This would obviously be impossible. Lady Toten is an enormous sun god believer. In a novel world, religion's hold is something else entirely. No wonder saints are always hot. As expected, Lady Toten goes speechless.

Just in case she's tempted, I add:

"Even if the price were not the marquessate, but a human life? Even if it were an innocent stranger?"

This was one of the theories from the debate about what Evangeline buys children for—the same grotesque rumor that made Misha screech about human leather the moment she walked through the door.

I heard later from Misha that the most popular theory going around was that Evangeline needs human lives to maintain a healthy body. I used that theory to cut down Lady Toten's false hope—but now I'll have to enter society all the more, just to correct it.

Ryder was very subdued on his way back to the room.

"Was I a bother?"

"Not at all. You were very dignified."

Lark shook his head at the boy's question.

Making the effort with a sick body to fulfill the duty of a host and greet the guest—that was admirable beyond his years. And though he seemed ready to collapse at any moment, he was walking back to the room entirely on his own, accepting no assistance.

"What did you think, butler? Did I seem like the young Toten marquis?"

"Yes. Very much so. Had the late marquis seen it, he would have been greatly pleased."

Only after Lark invoked the late marquis in praise did Ryder seem satisfied and let the tension leave his body. He swayed at once. Lark reached out hastily, but the child caught the wall and steadied himself alone.

"Sorry—let me rest a moment..."

Lark marveled at the boy's mental strength. The body was failing toward death and never showing it.

If not for the cursed body, this child would have suited the Toten headship perfectly. Had he been born healthy, Lark would not be running these schemes in the background.

"Don't push yourself further—lean on me. There's no one watching, is there?"

Ryder was the type who minded the eyes not only of his noble peers but even of the household servants. In their presence, he wanted to look like the young marquis, not the sickly young lord.

Just as the butler had said—the estate's people were absorbed in attending their rare guest. There was no one on the upper floor.

Persuaded, Ryder leaned into the butler's arms. Lark was surprised by how light the child's weight was, but tried not to show it, and made his way toward the room.