Chapter 11

“My heavens, oh dear, what the hell is this?”

The deputy bishop hurried toward me as I descended the stairs, my hands pressed to my head. Two police officers followed closely behind.

“Sniff, I… I came to pray for Christmas, but suddenly—”

The deputy bishop regarded me with tearful eyes, while the officers who had opened the chapel door exchanged grim expressions.

Surveying the scene inside, the deputy bishop crossed himself.

“My goodness! Blood defiling the holy temple—what kind of evil is this?”

“Calm down, Deputy Bishop,” one of the officers interjected. “It appears to be the work of the Night Butterflies. Miss, did you witness who might have done this?”

“Sniff…”

“It’s all right, my Lady” the other officer assured me. “Now that you’re safe, there’s nothing to fear. Here’s a handkerchief.”

“This poor woman must have been utterly shocked! How did things deteriorate to this extent in our country?”

“I share your shame, Deputy Bishop, I never imagined something like this could happen on Christmas Day.”

While one officer stayed to console the deputy bishop and oversee the scene, the other escorted me to the police station. The situation was perilous, necessitating my presence for a witness statement.

“Aren’t you Sasha Sanchez?” the officer asked. “We appreciated the gift you sent us last time. I assumed you might still be at the hotel.”

“Yes,” I replied. “I planned to visit the church at midnight to pray for Christmas. But…”

“You were genuinely frightened,” the officer acknowledged. “Shooting inside a holy place is madness. Nevertheless, I’m relieved you’re safe. These Night Butterflies are a real menace—they show no respect even for places of worship.”

What do you mean by that?

The officers didn’t press further; it was evident that the Night Butterflies were embroiled in their own conflict.

As I sat across from the police officer, he stepped out momentarily. I sipped the warm tea before me, suppressing a sigh.

Sniff.

I’d expended too much energy; now hunger gnawed at me.

The unfamiliar police station felt eerily empty. Most of the staff had rushed to the hotel, while the rest were dispatched to the streets where the conflict unfolded.

“Are you feeling all right?”

“Thank you.”

“Haha, quite a situation,” the officer chuckled. “I apologize for the inconvenience, but the Chief would like to see you. If you’re willing, please follow me.”

The police chief wanted to meet me at this hour? A forgotten memory resurfaced—a recollection of the current Chief of Police.

Back then, he’d been the sole survivor among the three knight commanders who ventured into the tower to find us. His face remained a hazy image in my mind.

I trailed the officer, feeling slightly embarrassed, as we rode the elevator. Admirable, indeed, that the Chief worked even on Christmas Eve.

“Chief?”

“Ah, thank you.”

He glanced up from the stack of papers on his tidy desk in the spacious office. His green eyes, framed by gray hair, held a solemn yet gentle intensity as they locked onto mine.

Suddenly, I felt transported back to that fateful April Fool’s Day—the day our world shifted forever.

The day we finally escaped the tower… the day my hands first bore the stain of blood.

“Please, take a seat.”

Perhaps I didn’t deserve his respect, but I sat down anyway. After a brief, weighty silence, the Chief spoke again.

“You’ve changed so much that you’re almost unrecognizable. But not as much as the Duke.”

“Ah…”

“Did you hear about the Duke of Flame and Fury? He got arrested for assaulting a police officer.”

I chuckled at his jest and offered a warm smile.

“Yes, I heard about that. Must have felt utterly absurd at the time.”

“Truth be told, this is the first time since then that I’ve felt so absurd.”

So, are we here to reminisce about what transpired back then? Or is there another reason?

“Of course, it wasn’t as absurd as what his younger brother pulled off that spring. Why does Serpente always find himself in the thick of things?”

Why can’t people around here just learn to let go? I sighed.

“I’ve heard that story too. Why…”

“I suspected as much. From the perspective of a former vassal, everyone has undergone significant changes.”

“What exactly are you getting at…”

“What’s hidden under that hat?”

“Perhaps you’re curious about my thoughts. You seem to have an inkling.”

As I responded with a smile, a fleeting glimmer danced in his green eyes—a hint of bitterness, perhaps.

Damn it, I shouldn’t have met him. I wish everyone would stop pretending to be saints.

“I was merely asking on a personal level.”

“Personally? Not in your official capacity as Chief?”

“We’ve shared secrets, haven’t we?”

Secrets. That particular secret. Where did all the knights who saved us back then vanish to? And where’s the Crown Prince who rescued us all? Their absence haunted me.

I clenched my hands together, trying to shake off the lingering memories. Only now did I realize that my hands trembled slightly.

“Why did you want to see me?”

“Well, let’s just say I’m an old man tormented by regret.”

“…”

“I’m always concerned—for the three of you.”

He spoke softly, rising from his desk and extending his hand toward me.

I hesitated briefly, then carefully accepted his hand. As warmth radiated from his rough yet comforting grip, my cold blood stirred.

“The officers will accompany you to the Duke’s residence.”

“Thank you.”

“Participating in that rescue remains an honor for me. More significant than any Imperial Medal.”

I arrived home early in the morning. The front yard lay blanketed in thick snow, and as I made my way through it, a noise caught my attention from the patio near the hall.

“Oppa…?”

Why on earth was Lethias here at this hour? Shouldn’t he either be fast asleep after their wedding night or preparing for their honeymoon—maybe both?

“Waaa…”

But it wasn’t just Lethias sitting there. He slumped on a rosewood bench, surrounded by empty bottles, clutching a half-empty whiskey bottle. His head hung low, and he emitted a mix of hiccups and sobs. Utterly bewildering.

To add to the oddity, the Chief Aide and our butler, both sporting dark circles under their eyes, observed their boss’s unruly behavior with what seemed like a mix of relief and despondency.

When our eyes met, both of them shook their heads in disbelief. What in the world was going on? This situation…

“Oppa… Oppa, what’s wrong? What happened?”

“Sniff… Sasha…”

On what should have been their happiest night, the groom—reeking of alcohol—was now lamenting something deeply sorrowful.

I reacted instinctively, rushing over to snatch the bottle from his hand.

“Is this some kind of protest gathering?”

I turned my head and sighed with relief. Benya sat there, unscathed, not a hair out of place. Relief and joy surged within me.

But Benya’s gaze, fixed on me, held an intensity akin to a venomous snake sizing up its prey.

And Lethias, wiping away tears and hiccuping, glared at his brother with unwavering determination.

“Hiccup. Did I really agree to all this?”

“What?”

“My marriage—did I truly consent so readily to what just happened? Hehe, we’re all cursed! Cursed, I tell you!”

A heavy silence hung in the air. The three of us exchanged identical looks, while Lethias let out a resentful wail, tugging at his hair.

“You turned my wedding into a trap, transforming the Imperial capital into a bloodbath! You even harmed guests who were supposed to be family! What’s wrong with people? No matter how you look at it, I never imagined it would come to this…”

“I had no idea Fibonacci was on your guest list.”

“To hell with Fibonacci! Listen, I witnessed it all—the lifeless body of Uncle Cosimo in that cursed canal! Turning the Imperial capital into a battlefield on Christmas Eve, hurting even our own relatives… We’re all cursed! Headed straight for hell!”

As my anger cooled, I shifted my gaze to Mr. Pavel. So he’d found out…

But, naturally, he blamed Benya, didn’t he?

Benya remained silent, refusing to make excuses. His icy stare bore into his older brother.

A twisted smirk tugged at the corners of Benya’s lips, but then he spoke in an eerily calm tone.

“Seeking salvation, Hyung? Hoping for someone to turn the other cheek?”

“Hiccup, yes, you…”

“If you want to ascend to heaven alone, surrounded by flowers, go ahead. I won’t stand in your way. I’m tired of chasing after a Hyung who acts like a petulant child. Understand? I’m tired of it too. How can someone like you be my brother?”

Lethias’s sobs subsided, and his shoulders stiffened. Next, Benya’s fierce gaze shifted to me, accompanied by a disapproving tsk and tongue click.

“Isn’t it a bit late for you?”

“…”

“Where were you?”

My hat suddenly felt itchy, and I swallowed against my dry throat. Ah, I should have been the one saying those lines…

Just as I was about to respond, Lethias spoke up again.

Lethias stumbled over his words, his voice already shattered.

“I… I mean, if you had warned me beforehand…"

“Quit your whining and go enjoy your honeymoon. I’d rather not lay eyes on you for a while.”

“…”

In the weighty silence, Benya turned away and headed indoors.

A sigh escaped someone—I think it was Mr. Chaplin.

“Well, it seems this old man’s time has come. What in the world is this mess? … By the way, where did Miss Sasha come from?”

“True. You vanished so abruptly. Do you have any idea how worried we were?”

Surprisingly, even these folks? I stifled a cough and offered a faint smile.

“I’ll explain later. For now, it’s best if both of you head inside and rest. Especially you, Mr. Pavel.”

Not that I’m avoiding the topic, but it wouldn’t be out of character for our Chief Aide to faint right now.

Once the two vassals departed, finally seizing their long-awaited moment, I quietly approached and took a seat next to Lethias, who sobbed with his head bowed.

“Oppa.”

“…hiccup. Hic.”

“Look at me, Oppa.”

Lethias hesitantly raised his tear-filled eyes to meet mine. I exhaled in relief.

“Do you seriously believe your own brother would harm your guests?”

“… hiccup. I know."

“What?”

“I know he, hic, isn’t one to kill easily.”

“That makes sense. So why did you say it?”

“I don’t know, hic, my thoughts are all muddled—I guess I’m just angry and drunk…”

What? I managed to suppress the urge to smack his head.

Stay patient, hold back, don’t let anger get the better of you. Losing your temper now would only back you into a corner.

This was just like the original novel. Besides, he’s clearly had a few too many.

“Oppa… Let’s be honest. You knew something like last night was bound to happen sooner or later. The fact that they had surfaced on the very first night I returned home.”

“Hic. I know. But… But out of all things…”

“Are you afraid of being cursed at? Is it because they chose Christmas Eve for this act? Or perhaps was it because of their audacity to pull this stunt on your wedding day? And didn’t you consider that the stricter individuals would be less likely to get caught?”

“…”

“You’re not a passive leader without a strategy. You’re the Duke of Serpente and the head of the Dallas Meyer Club. While you reveled in your finest hour, you also needed to console the subordinates who fought in your stead.”

Lethias rubbed his eyes roughly as if trying to erase the chaos that had unfolded. His voice, now calmer, carried the weight of recent events.

“You’re right. I was… swept up in the festivities, and then I witnessed that wretched uncle bleeding out. It drove me nearly insane… I’m utterly lost.”

“Was it truly that horrifying?”

“Just a bit… But it feels wrong for him to die so ignominiously, especially when he came as our guest. Damn it, who could have done this?”

“The police will investigate. For now, set work aside and enjoy your trip with Alsie.”

Lethias shifted, anxiety flickering in his eyes. More anxious than fearful, really.

“But you see…”

“Hm?”

“What if Benya tells me he never wants to see me again?”

Ah, the heart’s trepidations—the kind that gnaws at you even when reason says otherwise. I couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re genuinely worried about that?”

“Of course!”

“Then why, in the throes of your alcohol-induced eloquence, did you utter such things? Tsk tsk. How did he raise this troublesome Oppa…”

“Who raised whom? I’m the one who raised him!”

Yes, their banter—part sibling rivalry, part genuine affection—was a testament to their bond. Lethias blushed, and I patted his shoulder, pretending to console him.

Ah, the glimpses of their seven-year camaraderie on Vibrato.

“I’ll fetch you a gift.”

“Rest well and return.”

“Oh, and make sure Benya doesn’t scare Wendy away while I’m gone.”

“…”

Leaving Lethias, I didn’t head straight home. Instead, I sought out Wendy, who seemed to be slowly weaving herself into our family. I knocked discreetly on the study door, muffling her soft whimpering.

Knock, knock, knock.

“What?”

His voice—stern, guarded. What was my next move? Sniff.

“Benya, it’s me.”

Silence. The Young Master was clearly upset.

I hesitated, then turned the doorknob gently.

The study revealed Benya, sans his usual formality, smoke curling around him. His light blue eyes pierced through the haze.

“Should I dismiss Valentina?”

“… no."

“And where have you been?”

I offered a soft smile, stepping into the room.

Juan’s murder, Noxian’s intricate plot—words spun from delusion. Who would believe such tales? Can we trust the collateral family? Can we trust Fibonacci?

To unravel this web, we need compelling evidence. And with Knoxus’s body found in the hotel, dismissing it outright becomes harder.

𝔼𝕟𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕍𝕠𝕝𝕦𝕞𝕖 𝟙𝟙:

𝔸 𝔹𝕝𝕠𝕠𝕕𝕪 ℂ𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕞𝕒𝕤

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ᴛ/ɴ: ʜᴇʏ, ɪ'ᴍ ʙᴀᴄᴋ. ʙᴜᴛ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ᴀꜱ ʙᴜꜱʏ ᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴘʀɪᴄᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴘʀᴏʙᴀʙʟʏ ʙᴇ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀ (ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ). ɪ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ 12 ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴜʙʟɪꜱʜ ɪᴛ ʜᴀꜱᴛɪʟʏ. ᴀɴʏᴡᴀʏ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ'ꜱ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏꜰꜰ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴏᴢ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ. ɪ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴀʙᴀɴᴅᴏɴ ɪᴛ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴏʀʀʏ. ɪ'ʟʟ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛɪʟʟ ɪᴛ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇᴅ.