Perhaps Duke Foss had been satisfied by the sight of Calypse being stabbed—because the voice reverberating through my skull abruptly went silent, and I found I could move my body again.
“Papa!”
I threw myself against him, desperate to stop the bleeding. I pressed my hands over the wound with everything I had.
“Papa, don’t move. It’ll hurt more if you move.”
Still on my knees, I had wriggled my way into his arms and was covering the blood-soaked wound at his abdomen with both palms.
But the hands of a five-year-old were so impossibly small.
I felt it again, the way I always did—no matter how sharp a mind you had, you were utterly powerless before a truly strong adult.
“…Hic—hh—hic.”
Scalding tears ran freely down my face. I was pressing as hard as I could. I was doing exactly what I had been taught in training—sealing the wound, keeping pressure on it.
If only my hands had been a little bigger. If only I had been a little stronger. I could have saved him.
The wound had been aimed precisely at the abdomen—not instantly fatal, but at this rate, death by blood loss was a certainty.
“…Aisha. Go outside.”
And through all of it, the foolish man was worrying about me.
“Papa. You’re bleeding!”
“Now. Papa’s not dying from this.”
It was then.
“How pathetic.” Ariana, wiping blood from her short blade, dropped the handkerchief on the floor. “Your own daughter is House Foss’s spy, and you’re still calling yourself Papa?”
“It was you who lured him here. You who suggested the second-floor VIP room. All of it was your daughter. And you still want to play at being a father?”
“…Don’t. She’s my daughter.”
“Calypse. Your daughter and your former wife are both spies.”
At that.
“…We’re not divorced yet.”
Calypse murmured it between labored breaths.
Ariana’s eyes slowly widened at the answer she hadn’t expected.
“Former wife… your behavior may have all been an act, but to me—you were a beloved wife.”
He managed to lift his head. The corner of his mouth rose.
“A damned wife, at the moment. But still.”
Even as he said it, Calypse didn’t bother concealing what he felt toward Ariana. His gaze, though clouding fast as he fought to hold onto consciousness, still held something unmistakable. Something that refused to be called anything other than affection.
Ariana stared at him with an expression that said she had heard quite enough of him—and eventually pressed her lips flat.
“…You’re dying because you’re an idiot.”
“I’d rather not die at my wife’s hand.”
“Then kill me.”
“I’m not that kind of man.”
“…God damn it! Why are you so impossibly stupid!”
Her composure finally broke. Ariana hurled the short blade she had been holding against the floor with a sharp clatter—
—And that was when it came.
Duke Foss, who had been silent throughout, sighed.
Only then did I understand—he had deliberately withheld his commands and let the three of us play out our scene.
The duke clicked his tongue in distaste.
—Tsk. I should have discarded her back then. She can’t hide her feelings when she talks to her husband. Aisha. You’ll have to step in.
No. I can’t hear you. I refuse to hear you.
In desperation I pressed both hands harder over the wound—and over my ears—but.
—Your mother can’t do her job, so the daughter must do it in her place.
The damp, creeping voice burrowed through my ears like a worm and kept droning on regardless of whether I covered them.
—This is an order, Aisha.
Please. Please.
—Pick up the blade Ariana dropped, and your father—
—Protect Aisha.
It was then.
“……?”
Kyle’s voice rang out without warning—and in the same instant, my mind went clear and clean, as though I had swallowed a mouthful of cold water.
The dark magic had been broken.
There was no time to be surprised. I had to act while I had the chance.
I yanked a poison needle from my pocket, and Ariana looked at me with startled eyes.
But I was faster—I blew.
Pfff.
The needle struck the back of her neck and Ariana crumpled where she stood.
She wasn’t dead. It was a defensive needle, not a lethal one—she had simply been put to sleep.
—What? Why can’t I sense Aisha’s presence? Aisha. Can you hear me?
Damn it. Duke Foss’s voice was back.
There was no time.
I pressed my hands back to Calypse’s wound and raised my face to look at him.
“Papa. There’s no time. We have to run!”
At my words, Calypse lowered his gaze slowly and frowned.
“…Your mother—no, never mind. Is Duke Foss nearby? What happened, exactly—”
“Duke Foss is close by, and I’ve been under dark magic this whole time. The effect will come back any moment!”
“Dark magic? Illegal magic? He used illegal magic on you?”
“That’s not what matters right now!”
Truly, this foolish man.
I screamed at him and burst into tears.
“I am a weapon made to destroy you!”
Calypse’s eyes grew slowly wide at those words.
I hadn’t wanted to say it. Not ever. But I had to get him out of here, no matter what it took.
“Duke Foss kept me alive rather than killing me—because you were the target. Because he wanted to break you. Please, come to your senses! I’m not worth being precious to you! I’m just a tool!”
—Aisha. Yes. Now you know your place.
I could feel Duke Foss’s satisfaction as he smiled.
And then.
—Now. Stab your father in the abdomen with the short blade. As your mother did.
At the crisp clarity of the command, my hand closed around the blade on its own.
And as it drove into Calypse’s side—
I could not bear to look at him, and squeezed my eyes shut.
“…Ngh.”
A short, strangled sound. This time it genuinely hurt—his torso bent forward until it nearly reached the top of my head.
I wept like a small child, great heaving sobs. And there in the VIP room, the three of us—mother, father, and I—closed our eyes in quiet succession.
* * *
“It’s all right, little one.”
No.
“Papa told you.”
Not everyone had fallen unconscious yet.
“…The fault lies with the adults.”
The child who had driven a blade into his own body had collapsed in tears.
Calypse gathered his breath and held her close, soothing her.
‘I promised to protect her. And instead I let her see something unforgivable.’
This was not the kind of experience a five-year-old child should ever have to live through.
Aisha had always been terrified of Duke Foss’s retaliation. He had known. And still he had failed to shield her properly.
Gathering what remained of his breath, Calypse let his eyelids open slowly. He had been reunited with his family. Now it was time to bring things to a close.
✶ ✶ ✶
At that hour. The third floor of Ritaisha’s jeweler.
“Aisha. Aisha?”
Duke Foss, who had been sprawled in his chair with his customary arrogance, sat up.
He could no longer feel any response from Aisha.
“…Did she lose consciousness? Either way, Aisha attacked Calypse. She’ll be in no state psychologically.”
The objective had been achieved.
Calypse would not die immediately—but by tomorrow, he would be found as a corpse in the VIP room of the jeweler.
Cause of death?
Laughably enough, the reports would say his daughter and his wife had murdered him together.
Aisha had lost consciousness immediately after stabbing Calypse. In his current condition, Calypse would not be strong enough to cast the child away. Which meant Aisha would simply be the wretched daughter who had driven a blade into her father. The same would be said of Ariana.
“Ha… hahahahahaha!”
Duke Foss let out a wild laugh and let his body fall back into the chair.
‘Calypse—killed by the wife and daughter he trusted. What a magnificently stupid and hollow death!’
He was positively delighted that the man had died exactly as planned.
“Hahahaha!”
Madness tinged his laughter. The whites of his eyes had gone red with burst vessels.
How many years had he waited to kill Calypse? Ariana had approached him deliberately nine years ago…
“Nearly ten full years! Truly, truly, what an absurdly long time!”
He wanted a drink of something sharp—something strong. It was a habit he had whenever a long project finally reached its end.
This affair had cost him a great many operatives, including rare assets like Ariana and Aisha—but the objective, Calypse’s death, had been fulfilled. He was satisfied.
“The situation has concluded. Shall we relocate, my lord.”
It was then.
In the middle of his satisfaction, the knight who had been standing motionless as a shadow spoke up.
“On the chance that anyone entering the shop discovers both Lord Calypse and ourselves, our position could become awkward.”
“Never mind that. Awkward? I warned the staff ahead of time—no one is coming in. There’s a ‘closed’ sign hanging right on the front door.”
Of all the moments to kill the mood.
Duke Foss gave a lazy wave of his hand.
“Enough of that. Go down to the second floor and check on the VIP room. If he somehow hasn’t died yet, finish it cleanly and come back.”
“Yes, my lord.”
And with that, the knight departed.
“Ha. It won’t be long now before the Kingdom of Doctia becomes an empire.”
Duke Foss drank water in great gulps in lieu of whiskey, then wiped his wet mouth carelessly with the back of his hand.
Presently.
Click—
The door handle turned, and the door creaked slowly open.
“Back already? So then—is Calypse completely dead—”
Duke Foss turned to see who had entered and went still.
“Ah. The knight.”
A man much larger than the one who had just left stood in the doorway, a sleeping child held in one arm.
“The knight you just passed? Completely dead.”
It was Calypse.
* * *
