STVWDTD Chapter 22

I'm Looking Forward to What Comes Next

Diana held that pink gaze for a long moment, then turned away.

"Let's go."

The cold that clung to the air despite Noel's warm weight in her arms made leaving mandatory. The passage had been built for that portrait. Just one painting—and they'd constructed this entire elaborate mechanism to protect it?

Why?

And those pink eyes bothered her. Because they were hers.

The Beatus line was defined by red eyes. Her brothers all carried the vivid crimson. She'd been born the aberration—washed-out pink like something had diluted her heritage. The only one in recorded family history. When she was born, the accusations had been immediate: Did Mother sleep with another man? Is she even legitimate?

But she was. Fully Beatus. Just... wrong about it.

Black hair neither black nor red. Pink eyes instead of proper crimson. Everything about her was compromised—and the collateral branches had made sure she knew it.

Then one day they'd stopped. Started avoiding her.

Later she'd learned: her eldest sister had handled it quietly. Had sorted out the ones spreading lies and removed them from the gene pool entirely. At ten years old.

Diana smiled to herself at the memory.

'You didn't have to do that.'

'Well, I wanted to. Because their attitudes annoyed me. Understood? Insignificant baby sister.'

That's what a ten-year-old villain had said. Our oldest sister absolutely had villain credentials.

She was still smiling when the prickling sensation hit her neck.

"Sis."

Noel's voice had gone rigid.

She started to turn—

"Don't look back. Run. Run now."

[?@#$%!@#$!?]

Words she didn't understand chased from behind.

"Run!"

The moment Noel finished speaking, a wind shoved her back and Diana sprinted forward without choosing to. His auxiliary magic. She didn't question it.

She didn't know that something—a man's soul—was reaching desperately after her.

Held in Diana's arms, facing backward, Noel reached toward empty air.

[Beatus!]

The moment he made contact with the pursuing spirit, fragments of his sealed memories detonated awake. Part of what had been locked inside him suddenly broke free.

Light.

Noel's small hand blazed. Diana burst out of the tunnel.

Behind her, hands stretched toward empty space before scattering like smoke.

Noel's mouth twisted upward in a smile that wasn't childlike at all. Vicious. Terrifying. Diana didn't see it.

"Huff... huff... What— what was that? What was chasing us?"

Noel made a gesture. Wind obeyed. The armor's wrist rotated. Click-click-click—the wall sealed.

Diana was too breathless to notice anything strange. Too starved for oxygen to focus on anything except her lungs screaming for air.

"Noel?"

He wasn't answering. Diana pulled him from her arms to check his face—and his expression flipped instantly.

"Sis's scared of ghosts, right? That was a scary ghost following us!"

He's going to deliver this unhinged reason with that bright, innocent smile? Diana exhaled hard and reached out to ruffle his hair. They'd made it out. That was enough.

"Right. You saved us."

His previously cryptic eyes brightened, reflecting her hand's touch like water. Diana's one sentence made something in him settle.

"Let's not go in there again."

"..."

Walking ahead of Diana toward the exit, Noel said nothing. His silence held weight, but Diana was too depleted to parse it.

"What's that woman doing now?"

The question came abruptly. The maid filing Lady Irin's nails answered with sharp instinct.

"The vault, miss. She's in the vault."

"How the hell did she get the Duke's attention?"

Heat built behind Irin's eyes. She'd worked so hard. And that woman had walked in and become the center of the castle overnight.

"And she just shows up like it's normal. Visits daily. I get turned away at the door and she—"

"Please don't upset yourself, Miss Irin. It'll damage your complexion."

Irin Moneta. She refused to accept the current arrangement.

Two years ago, her parents had died in an accident—sudden and permanent. She'd been left floating in void. The debt-buried county was hers but she couldn't inherit. Couldn't name a regent. Had no family to turn to.

The creditors are going to take everything. I'll end up a common woman. Fear had consumed her as she kept vigil at their graves.

Then salvation fell from the sky.

Men in black priest garments appeared and offered her a lifeline. They told her to examine her mother's personal effects.

She'd followed their instruction. And inside those effects lay a letter. From the Duchess herself.

The men had known. She had no idea how.

Following their guidance, she'd taken the letter to the Duke. One letter in the Duchess's handwriting had been enough. He'd accepted her.

The Beatus family name became hers. Debts were settled. The Duke sponsored her. Residency at the castle was guaranteed.

Everything had gone smoothly after. She'd turned the servants to her side one by one—starting with the maids, then spreading through the entire household hierarchy. Early on, she'd performed meekness. Delicacy. Played a careful part.

But when things started working? She'd become bolder. Shed the costume. Lived as herself.

They love me anyway. That's why they obey.

Knock-knock. Irin waved permission and the maids entered, dragging someone between them.

"Brought her, miss."

"Good work."

The maid they dragged arrived bewildered. She was Diana's personal attendant—a recent hire. One of the new staff brought in specifically to serve that woman.

Irin rose and approached. "So you're assigned to that woman?"

The maid's eyes wavered. The other servants' stares were sharp enough to cut. She swallowed and nodded.

'The woman they call "her." The one I serve. Beautiful and kind—though I don't know her name or house.'

"The steward replaced all the personnel. I've lost so much ground."

"I—I don't understand, miss."

"Here." Irin handed her a sachet. It smelled like nothing. Inside lay stone fragments.

"Wear this. Then go anywhere her personal attendants gather. Go where her guards are, too."

"But why—"

"Because I'm asking nicely?"

The moment Irin spoke, crimson energy—invisible to anyone not looking for it—leaked from the sachet and flooded the maid. The servant gasped.

How beautiful this woman is. Her voice is everything. I'd do anything she asks.

Irin smiled, pleased at the conversion in the maid's eyes. "Understood?"

"Y-yes, miss. I'll do exactly as you say."

"Everyone out. And make sure tomorrow's tea party proceeds without problems."

"Understood, miss."

There was no mistress managing the castle currently. A tea party required the house-master's approval—but Irin gave orders and the servants obeyed her more than they'd obey the Duke.

Except the steward. And the Duke himself. And his family.

Irin's reflection glowered in the mirror. They refused her every command. Why?

Then I'll control the periphery. I'll dominate the surroundings and strangle her out of existence.

She'd disposed of the Duke's youngest daughter the same way. The house's weakest point—isolated and eliminated.

This time will be identical.

Irin opened the chest hidden beneath her bed and withdrew a stone tablet. The ancient script carved into it was the gift from those men in black. One corner was already broken—she'd sacrificed part of it for earlier controls.

'The Duke showed no reaction when I used this before. So why won't it work on that woman?'

Suddenly, she remembered: slim fingers closing around her throat. That woman's face inches away. Those pink eyes.

'I almost died.'

Irin had felt it instinctively: That one is immune to this power.

'Then I'll use the people around her instead. I'll dominate her surroundings and suffocate her that way.'

Hadn't she already managed it with the Duke's youngest daughter?

Irin laughed—a vicious, satisfied sound. The stone tablet was too valuable to waste entirely, but this investment would pay dividends.

She couldn't stop grinning as she anticipated what came next.