SN Chapter 7

The expansive gardens of the Redvielle estate. Kallix stood at his window, looking down. People strolled through the flower beds where the gardener's skill showed in every vibrant bloom. Among them walked a woman with black hair tied back, wearing a white shirt, gray trousers, and suspenders. Not the sort of outfit befitting a count's daughter. But then, Rosaline had always found dresses cumbersome. For someone whose profession involved constant movement, they must have been torture.

Behind her trailed a procession of maids. One held a parasol to protect the young lady's skin. Another carried a shawl in case the young lady felt cold. A third clutched a fan and hurried along in case the young lady felt warm. A fourth held a basket of snacks in case the young lady grew hungry. These girls, close to Kallix's own age, had always adored Rosaline. Did they truly not notice her absence? Kallix's expression twisted.

"Miss, look at this—the flowers bloomed so beautifully."

"You're prettier."

Oh! Oh! The maids squealed with delight, giggling. Kallix had witnessed this scene before. On a spring day bright with blossoms, his sister had taken the young maids out for an excursion they'd been longing for, though she herself cared little for such outings. When the maids had chattered about how lovely and pretty the flowers were—

'You're prettier, Illya.'

—that had been pure Rosaline, stealing hearts with apparent sternness. The maids marveled now that their memory-lost mistress behaved so similarly to before.

"Miss, you're exactly the same even without your memories!"

"You're still our Miss!"

Their words circled through Kallix's head. That wasn't Rosaline. That wasn't Rosaline. That wasn't his sister. It wasn't. It wasn't.

Kallix turned with troubled thoughts to Alter's report, flipping through pages. Documents about the shadow. He'd read them so obsessively by now that he could recite every word without error.

'I came to protect.'

'What?'

'I came to protect him.'

'Who!'

'The master of White Night.'

A complete stranger. Just a simple monster wearing Rosaline's shell. That's what it had been—until those words. Until it said it would protect the master of White Night, it had been nothing more than something wearing his sister's skin.

Kallix had thought he saw something ignite in her eyes, sparks flying from the flames. He'd laughed without meaning to. After all his suspicions, all his anguish, after he'd finally decided she was a complete stranger—in that very moment, she'd spoken exactly as his true sister would have. The name she'd wanted to protect even when it meant opposing their father. Because of that, Kallix had been forced to lower his sword.

For an instant, Kallix thought: 'Perhaps.' Perhaps this was something she had sent. Perhaps this was the best choice she could make facing death. Perhaps... this was what she had wanted.

That night, Kallix had beheaded the spy sprawled on his study floor. Anyone would question the strange sight of a neck twisted to death unnaturally.

'The night air is cold. Please go inside carefully. Sister.'

He'd forced the words out, then left the room carrying the spy's corpse. Two weeks had passed since that night. Rosaline's injuries had healed, leaving only scars. She used fork and knife with perfect skill now, and no longer picked up food from the floor to eat it. Edelweiss had seized the opportunity of her memory loss to dress her daughter in countless gowns, but after a few days, Rosaline stopped wearing dresses entirely. Shirt and trousers, boots reaching just below the calf—she wandered the estate in the very outfit that made Edelweiss weep.

And she learned letters and language. Still inadequate, but progressing rapidly. It looked almost like reawakening knowledge forgotten over long years rather than learning something new.

Rosaline, who'd been examining the flower beds, suddenly turned her head. Their eyes met—Kallix with his arms crossed, looking down. She raised one hand to her chest and waved slightly. Kallix made an expression like he'd been struck on the back of the head. A bit dazed, but he waved back in response. Rosaline smiled just enough to curve her lips, then resumed walking alongside the maids. Her figure grew smaller and smaller until the building blocked her from view.

"Are you all right?"

Alter, who'd been standing mutely behind him, asked. His question carried multiple meanings. Are you all right, young master? Or perhaps: Is it all right to leave her as she is? But Kallix had been thinking only of Rosaline all day, so he interpreted it as the latter.

He took the documents in his hand and fed them into the fireplace. Alter made a stricken expression or didn't—Kallix paid no attention, picking up the flint and striking it with practiced efficiency. Tak-tak. Flames caught. Alter looked ready to weep. His blood, sweat, and tears were about to become ash.

"I'm a good younger brother, you see."

Good Kallix. Our Cal. What a good boy. Words Rosaline had often said to him in childhood. Kallix smiled bitterly.

"If this truly was what my sister wanted..."

The newly kindled flames reflected in Kallix's eyes, their light dancing. They consumed every scrap of paper, every drop of ink, leaving nothing—yet continued to flicker restlessly.

"Then I will simply follow."

Thick black smoke followed its path up and out through the chimney. Rosaline watched the smoke rise into the sky for a moment, then resumed walking.

"Young master!"

No running. No shouting. No frivolous speech. The day the butler's unparalleled standards shattered completely. Kallix, who'd been training with his sword, intuited from the butler's desperate approach that something had happened. And that it involved her.

"Sir Raymond of House Grandram has come to visit the estate, requesting to see the young lady!"

An urgent matter. Correct. Damn. Kallix was drenched in sweat but couldn't even think of washing it off—he simply threw on an outer coat. Only people within the Redvielle household knew about Rosaline's memory loss. Internally, because Edelweiss wanted to protect her daughter's marriage prospects. Externally, because they'd judged that her position as a current White Night knight would be endangered.

The captain of the White Night Order always watched Rosaline closely. House Redvielle belonged to the First Prince's faction—yet their eldest daughter sat in the Second Prince's knight order. His gaze could hardly be kind. He'd remained quiet for a full month partly because her injuries were severe, but also because the hunting competition incident had kept him extremely busy. However, enough time had passed to resolve everything, and her sick leave was approaching its end.

Raymond of House Grandram. He was one of Rosaline's few close friends in the order. He'd come for a personal visit to the sickbed, and likely brought the captain's pressure with him. But regardless of whether her injuries had healed, there was a clear reason her return had to be delayed. She spoke well enough now, but struggled to distinguish between formal and informal speech. And she had no memories of her previous life as Rosaline.

Servants and maids attached themselves to Kallix as he rushed into the main building. Their expressions wore thick layers of anxiety, so Kallix moved even faster.

"Young master, Sir Raymond insisted on seeing the young lady first and went upstairs!"

"And what were all of you doing instead of stopping him!"

"He said, 'What permission do I need to meet a friend?' and just went up without listening, and he's from such a distinguished family that we couldn't dare lay hands on him..."

Kallix ground his teeth and ran. Behind him, urgent cries of young master, young master! echoed desperately. Her door stood wide open. Maids fidgeted anxiously at the threshold, stamping their feet, then made expressions like they might burst into tears upon seeing Kallix. Young master, young master, young master! Kallix thought he was hearing a lifetime's worth of "young master" in a single day.

The scene before him recalled another moment. When Rosaline had held her steak in her hands and torn at it with her teeth... that... savage. That raw state.

Inside the room stood a man wearing the White Night Order uniform. Raymond of House Grandram. A familiar figure. But his posture was rather strange. He knelt on both knees before Rosaline, who stood planted like a general commanding the world, and his body trembled violently.

"How dare you touch me. Do you want to die?"

Her speech pattern resembled Kallix's quite closely. She'd been secretly watching him from behind lately—she must have picked up his manner of speaking. That aside... what she'd said was slightly concerning. Touch? Touch what? Kallix seized Raymond's shoulder with fire in his eyes.

"Sir, what is this now...? Wh-what happened? Sir Raymond? Sir?"

Kallix's tone, cool when he'd first grabbed the shoulder, transformed through various stages in short order. Interrogation. Bewilderment. Horror.

Raymond's face had gone beyond pale to bluish. Still trembling, Raymond clutched Kallix's arm and made a strangled sound before fainting. Thud. The floor shook. A young maid burst into tears, wailing. In the distance, the butler came running frantically. Rosaline sat at the side table spreading jam on a scone, humming to herself.

"..."

Pandemonium.

They moved Raymond to a guest room bed. When they removed his uniform, a bright red mark showed at his solar plexus—it would bruise badly soon. Kallix first asked his sister what had happened. She tucked her loose hair neatly behind her ear and drank her milk tea with an indifferent expression.

"That one's a very, very bad person."

"...You mustn't call people 'that one.'"

Completely unhelpful. He asked the maid who attended her, and learned that Sir Raymond had embraced Rosaline the moment he saw her. An action taken from joy at seeing the young lady safe. He hadn't groped anywhere or done anything inappropriate. But unfortunately, just the day before, the maids—deeply worried that their gentle, kind mistress had lost not only her memories but all common sense—had said:

'Miss, we servants sometimes touch you like this when we dress you and arrange your appearance. That's fine. But if a stranger tries to touch you or stroke you, you must tell us. That person is truly, truly a bad person, you see? We'll punish them for you.'

'What about Kallix?'

'Young Master Kallix is fine. But if someone you're meeting for the first time acts that way? Then...'

'Beat them first,' they'd said. 'Young Master Kallix will handle the aftermath,' they'd also said.

Kallix squeezed his eyes shut. What they'd overlooked was that to memory-lost Rosaline, everyone except family and servants qualified as "meeting for the first time." He went with Rosaline to her room. Only after dismissing everyone else did the education begin.