"Dowager Empress? Is something the matter...?"
Perhaps hearing the attendant calling from outside the carriage, the thing hiding under the cloth suddenly poked out its head.
Unexpectedly, it was a girl of fourteen or fifteen.
Her face was soaked in blood, and her deep blue-gray eyes somehow reminded Isabel of Christine.
Would he look like that if he were badly frightened?
Their ages and sexes were different, yet she seemed strangely similar to him.
Besides, she looked too pitifully exhausted to be a murderer.
"Dowager Empress, the priests of the Holy See say they would like to search the carriage for a moment."
At those words, the girl's frightened face went white.
"..."
Isabel hesitated, then spoke toward the outside of the carriage in a dignified voice.
"This is the carriage where my father, Duke Rodwell, rests. Tell the Holy See to show some respect for the dead."
"Yes, Dowager…
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laluna
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