APIBAGS Chapter 69

They were abandoned anyway—it's hard to call them keepsakes.

And I couldn't very well have Marchioness Toten walk barefoot, so the timing was perfect.

We set out for the carriage together, Marchioness Toten now wearing the repaired shoes. We were stopping at the estate before going straight to the imperial palace, so I'd had everything prepared in advance.

Melek, blindfold firmly in place, brought the carriage around with the black horses in harness—and it suddenly made a certain sense why the Count had left early. In the rain, the mist rising from the ground swallowed the horses' legs entirely, as if they had no feet. A carriage out of a horror film. Well, half-right—it's driven by a ghost. If I were her, I'd rather be dead than get in.

"We're riding in this...?"

"Yes. Please, go ahead."

Marchioness Toten hesitated a moment. But she was past the point of having energy left to resist, and settled quietly into the seat across from me.

"We'll stop by the Toten estate first, then head straight to the imperial palace."

"Of course. Please travel safely."

Daisy bowed her head in farewell. Kanna waved a handkerchief, reluctant to see us go. I gave her shoulder a rough pat and got in. Henna had done the most preparation for imperial palace etiquette, so she was coming along as escort.

Jelly also boarded under the cover of escort. The name was escort, but in practice he was my trump card—if something went wrong at the estate, he'd use his abilities to contain the situation. He sat across from us with his legs crossed, whistling, which made Marchioness Toten frown at him.

"That man..."

"I'm Master's d—"

"My trusted hand."

I cut Jelly off before he could finish. You have to read the room! Even a joke needs the right audience! Is Marchioness Toten the same as Raphaela?

"I see, your..."

"Let's depart."

Marchioness Toten seemed to be forming some kind of wrong impression, but Melek got the carriage moving before I could correct it. Even with rain like this, not so much as a tremor. The driving really is something else. I want to conscript him as my permanent coachman.

It wasn't long to the Toten estate. Before much time had passed, the carriage began to slow. Are we there already? I pulled back the curtain and looked out the window. Through the glass I could see the Toten estate. It looked grimmer and more desolate than before—bleaker somehow.

Probably just the rain.

Kinder kept her breath silent the entire ride.

Afraid that the sound of her own breathing might grate on the ears of whatever was listening, she found herself hunching down without meaning to, drawing her breath small. She stole a glance at Evangeline.

Evangeline Rohanson had not turned away the hand Kinder extended. When Kinder asked for help, she stepped forward willingly. She had warned Kinder, of course—told her she couldn't be a perfect solution—but compared to all those years of praying without receiving a single answer, wasn't this so much more?

Why had she said it wouldn't be perfect? Was there some difficulty in bringing Ryder back?

Kinder tapped the toes of her shoes together, the ones that were slightly too large, gaping a little at the front. The shoes she was wearing were the Ladyship's—Evangeline's mother, the late Countess. Evangeline had given them without seeming to mean anything by it, but Kinder felt a strange feeling wash over her.

There had been nothing in Evangeline's voice when she spoke of the Countess. No feeling at all. And she could understand now why the rumors said the Lady Rohanson was a different person. Was that the problem? If Ryder came back, would he come back just like that—all his feeling for her forgotten, nothing left, moving through the world like a doll?

"We've arrived."

"Well done, Melek."

The blindfolded coachman driving eyeless horses announced their arrival. Speaking as he was from outside the carriage, the rain should have swallowed his voice at that distance. His announcement arrived as clearly as if he were standing beside her.

Lady Rohanson descended from the carriage with the monster she called her trusted hand. In front of Lady Rohanson, the thing rolled onto its back and wagged its tail—it really was just like a dog.

The lady's attendant hurried over to hold an umbrella above her. Then the monster reached out to escort Kinder as well. Kinder turned away from the offered hand and climbed down on her own.

The monster found this funny and snickered. Kinder thought of the time she had been standing outside the Rohanson manor, hovering and uncertain—and without warning, that same man had appeared from nowhere and seized her by the throat.

'Ah, my mistake. I nearly killed you—you were making too much noise. Would you mind keeping the throat thing between us? My mistress told me to bring you in as you were.'

And then he'd called it a mistake and threatened her to keep quiet about the strangling. Kinder hadn't screamed or made any sound at all. What, exactly, had been noisy?

Kinder's heart lurched. Surely—he couldn't have meant her heartbeat.

"It sounds lively inside?"

Lively—the word brought the memory of meeting that feigned escort crashing back. Kinder shuddered and looked away.

"Something might have happened."

At the attendant's guess, Kinder tilted her head—then her face went white all at once and she ran inside.

She didn't have time to check whether Evangeline was following.

There was only one thing that could make the estate this lively. Ryder's death had been discovered.

At any other time, no one would look for the boy unless it was Kinder—so why today of all days did it have to be today! Had she not behaved like herself, and had someone sensed something was off and gone to find him?

"My lady! You need to go to the young master! Sir Diess is—!"

"My lady, is it true the young master has passed away?"

The servants who had been whispering among themselves rushed at Kinder the moment they saw her, pelting her with questions. She ignored them as if she could not hear a single word and pressed on, jaw locked.

Kinder stopped in front of Ryder's room—normally the sunniest spot in the whole estate. Now it had become the most hideous, darkest corner of all.

"The Marchioness is here already... and at a time like this."

The servants crowded outside Ryder's door murmured uneasily.

"Butler. Nanny. What is the meaning of this?"

Kinder's voice shook.

The nanny standing beside the butler couldn't meet her eyes and looked away. She was at least still aware enough to know she was doing something outside the bounds of decency.

"My lady."

The butler called her name, flustered.

Kinder clenched both fists. The door to Ryder's room had been split by an axe—half of it was shattered. Through the gaping hole that remained, the scene inside was visible. Beyond the ruined door, a trembling maid held the child in a tight embrace.

"Sister-in-law. You've come early."

The culprit was Diess. Axe in hand, brazen-faced and smiling, Diess greeted Kinder as if nothing were wrong. He'd said he wouldn't arrive until late in the evening—apparently he'd gotten here while Kinder was gone and was already making a scene. Kinder had been away from the estate, and in her absence—

"Diess. What is the meaning of this!"

"What do I mean? I only wanted to see how my nephew was doing. Whatever I mean must have been done by that maid."

Diess pointed at the maid beyond the shattered door—Weder, arms still wrapped around Ryder, tight.

"My... my lady..."

Weder called out to Kinder desperately. The maid she had left to watch over Ryder. Weder. There was a cut on her face—she must have been grazed by the splintered wood. Though she should have been too rattled and disoriented to do anything, she had wrapped Ryder in the bedsheet and pulled him close, shielding him.

Kinder's head swam. Holding the boy that close, Weder would have no choice but to know the child was already gone. So why was she still protecting him?

Kinder could not understand it.

Weder had, for whatever reason, kept her promise to the very end. If Weder hadn't held the line, Ryder's death would have been proclaimed long ago.

"I wanted to see my nephew's face and was prevented from entering? Isn't that suspicious? So I went and got an axe to break the door down."

"There's nothing suspicious about it. That was my instruction. I told her the boy had finally gotten some rest after days of fever—not to let anyone through. That maid was following my orders. Didn't she say so?"

"Ah... now that I think of it, she did say something like that. I suppose I assumed she was lying. My mistake."

Diess pulled his mouth into a thin smile and let the axe drop—not from his hand entirely, just slightly lowered. It was a grotesque smile—the mouth curved, the eyes entirely dormant.

"Now that you've returned, that resolves it, surely? You must be tired from the journey. Go in and rest."

"Of course. But, sister-in-law—isn't this strange? With all this commotion, my nephew is sleeping so soundly he hasn't even blinked. He sleeps as if he were dead, doesn't he?"

"Didn't I tell you? He'd been fighting a fever for five days and finally fell into a deep sleep. He would have been too exhausted to hear anything happening around him."

At that, Diess dropped his smile entirely and raised the axe. Kinder flinched and squeezed her eyes shut—but no pain came. She cautiously opened them. Diess had the axe resting on his shoulder.

"Did you think I would just keep swinging an axe around? I'm a person with some sense of propriety."

Kinder felt a flush of humiliation burn up through her face. He had deliberately swung large to threaten her.

"And now that sister-in-law is here, there's no need for me to break the door down myself. That maid will open it for you. If you're beside me, there's surely nothing wrong with my confirming my nephew's condition?"

Kinder bit down on the inside of her lip. She had no ground to stand on.

Diess already seemed to have confirmed in his own mind that Ryder was dead. And in Kinder's judgment too—Ryder, having been ill for days, looked more gaunt and bloodless than ever, precisely like a corpse. He wasn't breathing, wasn't stirring in his sleep—if anyone watched long enough, they would have no choice but to know the child was already gone. And if Weder pulled back the sheets, the livid marks on his skin would tell the rest.

"Open the door for me. Why won't you check on him? Doesn't the Marchioness worry about her own son? Come inside with me and let's look."