TOM Chapter 3

"...You're right, though I suppose that's when you'd be helpful."

Minuet somewhat irritably batted my hand away.

But her eyes had actually grown somewhat softer.

She held out an envelope to me.

I opened it without delay and checked the contents. What was inside was...

"A puppet show ticket?"

"His Grace the Duke, with his truly refined tastes, sends word that if you're going to accept the marriage proposal, you should come to that place."

"Ah."

"Make sure you persuade him so there won't be any trouble."

In other words, make sure he'd accept having his bride-to-be switched to an adoptee.

Perfect—this was my opening. 

Once she'd handed over the ticket, Minuet immediately spun around and strode away.

I lingered for a moment, watching her departure, before heading back to my room.

The theater was pitch black.

The venue was moderately sized—neither grand nor cramped—with roughly half the seats occupied. A fair number of masked figures dotted the audience, presumably nobles like myself seeking anonymity. 

Apparently it was considered improper for aristocrats to indulge in plebeian entertainment. I settled back into my chair and let my mind wander. 

My thoughts inevitably turned to today's appointment—my meeting with the villain who would one day destroy the world.

Because of the owner of this grandiose title, I had gone through three bodies.

Ages 10-12, Amy.
Ages 15-17, Bega.
And now, 20-year-old Siora.

Coincidentally, it was quite systematic. The names progressing in some kind of order—A, B, C, what was that pattern about?

There was one more thing in common.

"They're all blonde."

I fiddled with my hair.

At this point, I suspected my god's preferences.

Probably has obsessive-compulsive disorder about rules and likes blondes.

Anyway.

[The performance will begin shortly. Please take your seats.]

What I'd learned from going through multiple bodies was that children grow up quickly.

While living through each life, the changes seemed gradual, but after dying and awakening in a new body, I'd find dramatic transformations had occurred during the years I'd missed.

The villain I met as Amy was innocent and pure.
The villain I met as Bega was twisted.
So what would he be like when I met him as Siora?

I wasn't particularly looking forward to it, but it was something to judge after meeting him.

But wait, I've thought this much and he's still not here?

"If you send an invitation, shouldn't you arrive early?"

"I am here."

Suddenly, a voice was heard.

It wasn't from the stage.

The seat next to me that had been empty just moments before.

I turned my head to the side and there...

"Since Viscount Bonetti's face has changed since I last saw her, I was enjoying the view."

A vague figure was buried in the dim darkness.

The tall man had elegantly crossed his legs with his clasped hands resting on top.

His silver mask covered half his face, with only eye holes cut out.

The eyes visible through the gaps curved in a familiar way.

"Hello. Fake viscountess, you came to meet me, didn't you?"

He hadn't even shown his face and the theater was shrouded in darkness. By all rights, I should have seen nothing. Yet somehow, I found myself layering multiple afterimages over his silhouette.

Late teens, mid-teens, early teens.
Adolescent, boy, child.
A phantom of a young man with pale sky-blue hair traveling backward through time.

"Who are you really?"

A child's voice echoed in my ears.

I exhaled the breath I'd been holding and the phantom disappeared.

What was revealed was a more mature physique, eyes that held new depth, and a voice stripped of all its former innocence.

I uttered his name like a groan.

"...Kruelo."

Kruelo Whitedesert.

The villain I was seeing again after several years.

"How bold of you to call my name when we're meeting for the first time."

"Ah. Well, I'm sorry. I've heard your name so often."

Excuses flowed from my mouth automatically. As I did so, I pondered.

The story I'd organized in my head about what to say had all been overturned.

What should I talk about first?

Kruelo pointed toward the stage with his chin.

"Don't you like the puppet show? You're not even looking."

At those words, I reflexively looked at the stage.

Marionettes danced across the stage, strings controlling every joint.

The curtain hung low enough to hide the puppeteer completely.

The puppets seemed to be singing something... but none of it was registering in my mind.

Because...

"Wow, your heartbeat is incredible."

Because I was quite flustered right now.

Why was this? It wasn't like I'd come without knowing who I'd meet, yet my heart felt strange.

Is this how it feels when you encounter someone you were torn apart from in battle?

Kruelo stared intently at me in this state.

"From excitement? Well, I feel the same. Having the person change at a marriage proposal meeting is quite a surprise."

"Um, I understand if you're disappointed."

"Disappointed? Hardly. I'm fine with it—I go well with blondes."

That stings for no reason.

"If you don't want to watch the play, let's talk. You have something you want to say, don't you?"

"Here?"

"If we speak quietly, no one will know."

What kind of audacious madman has negotiations about whether to change marriage partners in a theater?

But he was right. No one was looking this way.

We had kept our voices low, but in a theater like this, someone should have overheard us by now.

Something was off.

I held my breath and sharpened my focus for a moment before abruptly pulling open Kruelo's outer coat. 

A brooch was pinned to the inner lining.

"A magic tool?"

"...That's right. It prevents sound from leaking out of the vicinity."

That figures.

The small victory calmed my racing thoughts.

I found myself able to reorganize the points I'd planned to make.

Puppy, lend me your strength!

"What do you think family is, Your Grace?"

The title "Your Grace" really doesn't sit well in my mouth.

Kruelo, who had inherited a title while I wasn't looking, was to blame.

"I think family is connected by heart."

"Just the conclusion."

"I want to get engaged to Your Grace instead of Minuet."

Kruelo narrowed his eyes and looked at me.

Oh right.

"I'm late with introductions. My name is—"

"Siora Velvet."

"—and my age is—"

"Twenty."

"—and my parents are—"

"The Count's younger brother and his wife."

"Yes. My surname isn't 'Bonetti,' but if Your Grace agrees—"

"They said they'd adopt you."

"Wow, you know everything!"

Just as I thought—he'd already done his homework on me. Such a sly fox.

Though I had to admit, not needing to elaborate made things easier.

I scrunched my nose in an amused smile.

"It doesn't have to be Minuet specifically, does it?"

"Well, I'm not sure about that."

I know.

I remembered every detail of Minuet's role in 《Destiny》, which meant I could offer twice as much.

Kruelo's eyes curved with cunning amusement.

"What did the Bonettis say they'd give if I married you?"

"Pardon?"

"Money? Power? Ah, since it's the Bonettis, maybe a spirit summoning circle?"

"They said they'd give me Your Grace."

It was my masterstroke of flirting, but he didn't even blink.

No, he didn't even pretend to hear it.

"Whatever it was, it must have been worth trading for them to agree."

"Didn't you hear what I said?"

"I don't dislike you either, Lady. But I have a condition."

"What is it?"

"I can't tell you right now."

Am I being played with?

"If you'll accept it, I don't mind if the partner changes."

"You want me to just promise to accept it without even knowing what the condition is?"

"It's just a verbal contract anyway, so what does it matter?"

He meant I could simply break it if it didn't suit me.

Fair enough. At the moment, I was the one who needed this arrangement more.

I nodded without hesitation.

Kruelo smiled.

"Good, darling."

"Cough!"

Why is he using that term of endearment? Has Kruelo been switched out too?

"It's a bit disappointing though. I had something I wanted to show the young lady."

"What?"

"The performance."

Kruelo gestured toward the stage once more, then leaned in until we were nearly touching.

Eyes that had once sparkled like gems in daylight now appeared dark as dried blood.

Perhaps the color had deepened as he'd grown older.

"Which puppet do you like best, darling?"

I randomly indicated one of the puppets on stage—the loveliest one with flowing black hair.

Kruelo didn't even glance in that direction. The little devil.

Instead, he pointed elsewhere with his elegantly neat finger.

"I like that puppet."

Where his index finger pointed, I spotted brown hair.

The figure wore a mask and black coat, carrying a large bag in one hand and a walking stick in the other.

Most crucially—this was a real person, not a puppet.

Advanced flirting?

Was his earlier condition perhaps that I'd have to tolerate him charming other people?

I was confused, and Kruelo whispered.

"He's Count Bonetti's subordinate."

"Pardon?"

"He seems to have come for an illegal transaction today. He brought quite good merchandise."

Phew. Fortunately, the topic wasn't romance.

Just as relief washed over me, something stirred where Kruelo's finger was pointing.

'Count Bonetti's subordinate' began moving his hands with careful subtlety.

Eyes locked on the performance, he discreetly transferred his bag to the adjacent seat.

The recipient feigned drowsiness while accepting the handoff.

The exchange was so covert that everyone nearby remained oblivious.

"Beatitudo. An item doubly banned from import by both the Imperial Court and the Temple."

"..."

"It's a higher-level energy source than magic stones, quite attractive for illegal purposes."

He continued softly, syllable by syllable.

In a voice very much like a snake's.

"A high noble like a count wouldn't go to ruin, but if caught, it would be quite troublesome. Why did he do it?"

"What are you saying right now—"

"And what should we do, darling?"

Kruelo slowly fingered the ends of my hair.

His voice sank as if drowning in darkness.

"Should we report father's corruption?"

If color could be contained in a gaze, this would definitely be the color of ashes—of disaster.

"Or would you prefer we turn a blind eye?"

I frowned and batted his hand away.

"He's not my father yet, he's still a stranger."

"I know. I just recited some prepared lines because it seemed a waste."

"Were those meant for Minuet?"

"It's interesting."

He was going to try to expose her father's corruption at a meeting to accept a marriage proposal?

What uniquely terrible taste.

I narrowed my eyes and stared at Kruelo, and he shrugged.

"I guess only I find it interesting. Then let's skip the boring parts."

"What are you trying to do now—"

"I hope you have a pleasant time."

The instant those words left his lips, Kruelo rose from his seat.

Without hesitation, he pulled off his mask and cast it aside. 

A beautiful facial outline was revealed in the darkness, and I opened my mouth.

The sudden silhouette drew glances from several nearby patrons.

Before I could even think to intervene, Kruelo bellowed across the theater.

"Well, look who's here!"

He instantly drew the attention of everyone in the theater.

I was flustered, but Kruelo was shameless.

His eyes persistently tracked 'Count Bonetti's subordinate.'

"Isn't that Baron Genium!"

...By Phebula.