Part 2
At Liel’s question, Count Tigris nodded and gently held her hand.
“Yes, that’s what I heard. I too was told by my father.”
“Then it truly deserves to be called a treasure passed down for generations. If it’s really possible, that is. Time magic is extremely difficult. It must be used very carefully. Since it can only be done once.”
Liel touched the Harmonia necklace around her neck and let out a small laugh like a little bird. When she asked if such a gift wasn’t too much for a birthday, Count Tigris shook his head.
“I always thought, one day I would pass it on to you.”
“Father, thank you.”
“A necklace alone won’t heal the wounds in your heart.”
“No, Father. Still, it makes me feel better.”
Her forced, brave smile made her father’s heart ache even more. He softly patted the back of her hand. Encouraged by his words that she could do well at anything, Liel found a little strength.
“It’s not as if Theo is the only man in the world. There may be things Dyina has that I don’t, things Theo saw in her instead.”
Unable to meet her father’s gaze, Liel cast her eyes down and poured out her words in a rush. The Count, unable to imagine what her heart must feel like at that moment, closed his mouth and his eyes.
A few days later, when Liel’s birthday arrived, she could not bring herself to invite Theo and Dyina. And since her social circle was very small, there were hardly any guests to invite at all, so she decided to spend it quietly with her family.
“Liel.”
Hearing the soft, warm voice, Liel lifted her head absentmindedly while walking in the garden. Sunlight hit golden hair so dazzling she squinted her eyes.
“Kyle?”
“Happy birthday, Liel.”
Though she had not invited him, Kyle appeared, smiling with his teal eyes folded sweetly, and handed her a bouquet. It was a bouquet of lisianthus flowers, pale pink and light yellow mixed together. Hugging the unexpected gift, Liel smiled shyly.
“Thank you.”
“I wanted to give you something better.”
Kyle trailed off and smiled awkwardly. Liel brushed her fingers across the blossoms of the full bouquet and spoke.
“Thank you for the gift. Ah, but… it’s a little sad I couldn’t reach Lady Seyla. We got along quite well.”
“The Count Dimir’s family?”
“Yes. She returned to their estate from the capital. I sent a few letters, but lately there’s been no reply.”
“You’ll get a reply soon. Don’t worry.”
“Yes.”
Seeing how she deliberately shifted the conversation, Kyle kept a bitter smile on his lips. The flowers she touched with her fingertips swayed gently. It was clear she was trying to reassure him, but he couldn’t help worrying.
“I’m fine. I even reconciled with Lady Dyina. I was invited to the Fischer Marquisate too. I plan to spend a fun day with her tomorrow.”
“At the Marquisate?”
“Yes. It seems she wants to apologize for that incident.”
Kyle knew well what “that incident” meant—Dyina’s sudden announcement of her engagement to Theo Nobillis. He had already heard that high society was still abuzz with it—and with Liel’s name alongside it.
Though he wished she wouldn’t go to the Fischer Marquisate, he thought that perhaps it would quell the gossip if she did. Kyle looked at Liel, who buried her face in the bouquet and breathed in its soft fragrance, and found her more beautiful than anyone else in the world. Swallowing hard, he carefully opened his mouth.
“Liel.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t think Theo is a good person for you.”
“…Are you trying to comfort me? Thank you.”
“At the very least, if it were me, I would never betray your heart like that.”
“Kyle?”
“Sorry, Liel. I know you’re still confused, and yet I say such things.”
His nose and cheeks flushed red. Liel blinked several times, trying to understand what his words meant. Soon, her own cheeks turned pink. Kyle cleared his throat, pressed something into her hand, then hurried away—leaving only the words, “Happy birthday.”
“Kyle…”
Only after he was gone did Liel open her hand and smile faintly. In her palm shone a white flower-shaped bracelet studded with small jewels. Hugging the bouquet more tightly to her chest, Liel lowered her gaze.
The next day, Liel prepared cookies and cake that Dyina liked, carefully packaged. Jane told her it wasn’t necessary, but Liel insisted it was proper courtesy.
“Liel, must you go?”
“She invited me. I should go.”
Countess Tigris looked at her daughter’s still pale face with concern, but Liel reassured her and even packed a small suitcase before boarding the carriage. Though she planned only to stay one night, she thought it proper to bring a change of clothes. And so she headed for the Fischer Marquisate.
“Lady Liel!”
Dyina greeted her at the entrance. Liel smiled faintly and exchanged greetings, handing over the box of cookies and cake tied with a pink ribbon. Seeing it, Dyina’s eyes brimmed red as she thanked her.
“Thank you! Now, come in quickly. We’ve prepared so much for Lady Liel.”
Her bright smile, so often praised as angelic, made Liel wonder if Theo had fallen for that very smile and chosen to marry her. She shook off the thought. She had already decided to move on; holding onto such feelings was pointless. A maid carried her suitcase to Dyina’s room.
“Hello, Marquis Fischer.”
“Oh, Lady Liel.”
The Marquis, with his oily smile, welcomed her warmly. Liel politely offered congratulations, and he laughed, thanking her and asking her to pass greetings to Count Tigris as well. She agreed, then went with Dyina to the garden.
“To be honest, it always weighed on me that I hadn’t told Lady Liel.”
Dyina, seated in the wide garden, poured tea for her and explained. She had been so flustered, she said, because Theo had confessed to her only two days before the Nobillis ball. Liel took a sip, but the tea only tasted bitter.
“I see.”
“I’m truly sorry. I never meant to hide it.”
Dyina kept apologizing. Liel couldn’t even bring herself to be angry. She set down the cup with a clink and forced a smile, saying it was fine, that it was strange to be apologized to by the fiancée of another man anyway. She felt like a fool, unable even to get angry—but what was done could not be undone.
“I’m so glad. I really like you, Lady Liel. I was terribly worried our relationship would sour.”
Saying she had even lost sleep over it, Dyina gave Liel her cherished necklace and ring as gifts. Liel tried to refuse, but Dyina pleaded that it would make her happy if Liel wore them at the engagement ceremony, leaving her no choice but to accept.
They spent the day as noble girls did—drinking tea in the garden, chatting lightly, then returning to Dyina’s room to look over dresses. Liel quickly grew weary, and while sitting on a sofa in Dyina’s room, she was suddenly seized with a sense of déjà vu.
“What’s wrong?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
Liel tilted her head and rubbed her neck. Dyina suggested that if she was tired, she should rest early, and Liel readily agreed. After bathing and changing into a nightgown, she lay down on the guest bed beside Dyina’s.
“You must be tired. Sleep well.”
“Yes, Lady Dyina.”
Sleep quickly overtook her, but it was light. When a faint sound tickled her ear, she forced her heavy eyelids open. Dyina was not in bed. She stood at the balcony. Thinking she simply couldn’t sleep, Liel closed her eyes again. Then she heard the door creak open and shut.
She didn’t know how much time had passed, but the sound of late-night rain pattering woke her again. Liel saw Dyina standing in the balcony, drenched. Each flash of lightning illuminated her face—her eyes were empty.
“Dyina?”
“…Oh, you’re awake?”
Seeing her soaked through, Liel hurriedly lit a lamp, grabbed a blanket, and wrapped it around her. She spoke drowsily, warning she’d catch a cold. Dyina’s eyes glimmered strangely.
“Thank you, Lady Liel.”
The next afternoon after returning from the Marquisate, Liel was spending her time reading as usual. She thought again of Dyina drenched in the rain and wondered if she had caught a cold, but then dismissed it. Who was she to worry?
“Lady Liel Tigris of House Tigris!”
Suddenly, knights burst in, shouting her name and seizing the estate. Startled, Liel rushed out of her room, only to be tied with rope by soldiers. They even declared: “Arrest her for the attempted murder of Duke Nobillis!”
“What nonsense is this? My daughter tried to murder the Duke of Nobillis?”
Count Tigris, storming out amid the uproar, barely restrained his fury. Marquis Veroka, who had led the soldiers, sweated nervously. The Countess fainted at the sight of her bound daughter.
“I didn’t want this either. But it is the King’s order. Carry it out!”
“My lord! I never tried to kill Duke Nobillis! I am innocent! I have done nothing wrong!”
“You may argue that in court.”
Though Liel resisted, the soldiers dragged her away. Count Tigris blocked their path, ready to draw his sword, glaring at Marquis Veroka and his men.
“Marquis Veroka, it will not be too late to take her after I see His Majesty myself.”
“I clearly told you, Count Tigris—this is the King’s command.”
At the repeated word “King’s command,” the Count’s burning glare faltered, and he lowered his head. In an instant, everything collapsed. With her hands bound, Liel was forced into a prisoner’s carriage and taken to the court. Struck on the back of the head by this sudden turn, she could not think straight. Even upon arrival at the tribunal, she could not believe the words of the nobles around her.
“She’s disgraced the Tigris name.”
“How vile a deed.”
“Shameful for a noble.”
“Look at her eyes, so wicked. Truly a villainess.”
At the word “villainess,” Liel’s eyes flared, and she turned toward the speaker. Why would they call her that? She swore to God she had never done anything in society to deserve such a title.
No—perhaps she had known faintly. She had heard strange rumors about herself circulating. She had thought them fleeting gossip that would soon die out. That had been her mistake.
“Silence. We now begin the trial of Lady Liel Tigris of House Tigris, accused of attempting to murder Duke Nobillis.”
