G6 and her three servants walked the long path back to the West Villa. Instead of taking the direct route to her private quarters, she led them on a circuitous route around the estate's sprawling grounds.
She claimed she needed to walk a little longer before the sun fully set, but her mind was miles away, trapped in the labyrinth of the riddle that had appeared in Witherby's book.
'This is a price and a prize for a second dawn.' The words echoed in her thoughts.
I think 'second dawn' stands for this second life. A price and a prize. If talking about prize, it could be those ridiculous skills and magic. But price? For what?
'The Vessel nears its purpose.' another recalled line from the book as she was reminded of something.
She stopped walking abruptly as a memory, sharp and unbidden, surfaced from the depths of her old life.
'You're not born to dream.'
'You are born to cleanse.'
Her father's voice, cold and absolute, echoed in her mind. A strange, sharp sensation pricked at her heart—a feeling so foreign and sudden she couldn't even name it. It wasn't pain, not quite sadness, but a profound and weary ache.
I guess it doesn't matter where I go. Or how many times I'm reborn. My purpose can only ever be one thing.
It was a bitter, resigned thought. As if in response, the chain-rose tattoo behind her ear burned with a sudden, sharp intensity—a phantom pain flaring up as if scolding her for this moment of vulnerable, human emotion. A reminder that such sentiments did not suit a weapon.
"Lady Reise seems… troubled," Lilia whispered to Tina, her voice hushed with concern.
Tina didn't answer, merely studying her mistress's profile. The shift in G6's energy was palpable and, unsettlingly, familiar. It was the same chilling stillness that preceded a storm.
"She is merely fatigued," Edmund interjected smoothly, attempting to assuage their worries. "It is for the best that she will not be spending her entire day in the arena anymore."
No one dared to approach her. No one questioned her sudden, inexplicable interest in Utility Magic, a subject she had previously dismissed. They followed her lead in silence until they arrived at the Main Villa's entrance.
As they stepped inside, the grand foyer was unusually still. The servants had finished their chores, leaving the space in a state of pristine quiet. The only signs of life were the distant, lively sounds emanating from the direction of the kitchens.
"What's going on?" Lilia murmured, peering down the hallway. "It's an hour early to begin preparing dinner for the whole villas."
"You are right," Edmund agreed, his brow furrowing slightly. "Have the residents of Annex-Unus returned early?"
Their question was answered by the sound of approaching footsteps. A woman emerged from the kitchen, pushing a service cart laden with fine china. She stopped short upon noticing G6 standing at the base of the staircase.
"You've returned, Lady Reise," the woman said, offering a deep, respectful bow.
Who is this? I've never seen her here before.
"Who are you?" G6 asked, her tone characteristically blunt.
"Forgive me for not introducing myself sooner, my lady. I am Janin, the wife of Head Chef Alistair," she explained. "I have just returned yesterday from my maternal leave."
"I see. You may call me by my name," G6 stated, a default command from a woman who found titles tedious. She moved to ascend the stairs but was halted by Janin's next words.
"Ah, Lady Reise… the other residents, along with… guests… are awaiting your presence in the formal dining hall."
"There's a dining hall?" G6 asked, a flicker of genuine confusion crossing her features.
"Yes, Lady Reise!" Lilia chirped up. "You wouldn't know; you always take your meals in your rooms."
"The dining hall is typically reserved for formal family gatherings," Janin clarified.
The statement triggered a flash of memory—not of Reise, but of G6. A younger version of herself, sitting alone in a stark, concrete corner of a basement, mechanically eating a nutrient paste after a grueling training session. A reward. A ritual. Never a family gathering.
"Family," G6 repeated, the word leaving her lips flat and empty, devoid of any warmth the term should conjure.
Her delivery made Tina, Janin, and Edmund exchange a fleeting, uneasy glance. Her voice was its usual cold monotone, but the weight behind that single word was immense and profoundly sad.
"Shall we proceed to the dining hall, then, Lady Reise?" Tina asked gently, expertly guiding her mistress away from the staircase.
G6 followed silently, falling into step behind her.
I bet it's those annoying ants. I am really not in the mood to maintain my composure right now.
Tina opened a set of ornate double doors, revealing a scene of opulent leisure. The room was a portrait of noble life: Dio was leaning against a large window, staring out at the grounds with a pensive expression. Keith was at the table, utterly focused on balancing a droplet of water on his fingertip through precise mana control. Earl was seated in a plush armchair, immersed in a book. Brenda and Zen stood in a corner, engaged in a quiet, intense discussion.
And then there was Eliza. Sitting primly at the far end of the table, her gaze fixed adoringly on Dio.
G6's eyes immediately locked onto her, analyzing her with the cold, detached precision of a predator studying prey.
Her eyes are practically sparkling. Her whole expression is that of a child coveting a shiny new toy. She is, without a doubt, 'in love' with him.
Her thoughts then spiraled inward, a torrent of analysis and doubt.
In the book, Dio was smitten with her. So were Keith and Earl. That was the central plot. But… everything is different now. It's as if they were the inspiration for the characters, but they are also fully real people, making their own choices. Their story is no longer following the script or worse I was only brought here by the book that is inspired by them?
No. It's too odd. That analysis is flawed.
A critical question then: if the tension between Dio and Eliza isn't as the book described… what truly happened the night the original Reise saw them talking in the garden? What drove her to take her own life?
Her mind was a battlefield of conflicting data. The sudden happenings of the day—the riddle, the ledger, the headache, this gathering—were a tidal wave of unstructured intel. It was draining, frustrating. She was an operator who thrived on control and information, and she was currently running blind in hostile territory. The lack of clear mission parameters was, in its own way, killing her.
"Oh, Reise!" Keith's cheerful voice snapped her from her turbulent thoughts.
Instantly, the attention of everyone in the room shifted to her. "Lady Reise!" Brenda called out, moving closer but maintaining a respectful distance—a testament to the unspoken boundaries G6 had established. "Are you alright?" she asked, her concern sounding genuine.
Is that concern real? Or is it just a residual effect of the psychological mirroring I planted in her mind? G6's thoughts were cold, analytical as she simply stared back, offering no answer.
"Glad to see you are well, Lady Reise," Zen added with a polite nod.
"Reise!" Keith called again, this time practically bounding toward her. "It's strange to see you in a gown! I've gotten so used to your training gear!" He reached out, aiming to ruffle her hair in his usual playful manner.
But the G6 from the training grounds was gone. In her place was the original, impenetrable fortress. Her hand moved in a blur, slapping his away with the sharp crack of her knuckles against his wrist.
"What are you all doing here?" she asked, her voice a flat, arctic sheet of ice.
"We were worried about you, Reise," Dio stated, moving to stand beside Brenda, his gaze intense.
"I said I'm fine," she replied. "Now, leave."
The room's atmosphere chilled. They were familiar with her coldness, but they had grown accustomed to the slight thaw that had occurred in the arena. She had allowed Earl and Keith to sit near her, had traded barbs with them. This felt like a regression, as if they had served their purpose and were now being discarded.
"Are you truly alright?" Dio pressed, his voice softer, laced with a concern that felt different from the others.
"Lady Reise…" Tina interjected gently, seeking to diffuse the tension. "Alistair went to great lengths." She gestured to the covered dishes on the service cart Janin held.
"So?" G6's retort was sharp, her gaze slicing toward Tina. It was not a question, but a command to convince her.
"It seems Alistair prepared all of your preferred dishes," Tina elaborated, maintaining her composure under pressure.
A small tug on the hem of her gown drew G6's attention downward. Lilia was clinging to her, her eyes wide and pleading, full of innocent hope.
A beat of silence passed. "Then start serving it," G6 relented, the ice in her voice cracking slightly. She moved to the head of the table and sat.
It was as if a starting pistol had been fired. Earl and Keith immediately claimed the chairs on either side of her. Zen quickly sat next to Keith, and Brenda slid into the seat beside Earl, effectively boxing Dio out of the immediate vicinity. It was a silent, fiercely contested game of musical chairs.
With a slight frown, Dio took the seat next to Brenda. Seizing the opportunity, Eliza rose from her spot and glided over to sit beside Dio. Before sitting, she addressed G6 with a saccharine smile. "I hope you do not mind my presence, Lady Reise."
"I invited her, Rei. We all reside in the same villa," Earl explained, his tone diplomatic.
"I don't care. Just sit down," G6 dismissed, her annoyance palpable.
The servants began setting the table. Eliza's voice, sharp with disapproval, cut through the clatter. "Are you not meant to have the table set before guests are seated?" she chided one of her own maids, her tone strict.
"Forgive me, Miss Eliza. We believed Lady Reise would be longer with Her Majesty," the maid stammered in excuse.
"It is rather ill-mannered, especially in the presence of His Highness," Eliza stated, her low, nagging tone the final straw for G6's frayed patience.
"Shut up," G6 said, her voice louder, cutting through the room. Everyone stared at her, surprised by the open rebuke. "Just put the plates down and be done with it. I don't need a lecture before my meal. If you wish to discipline your staff, do it on your own time."
"I-I only meant it was disrespectful," Eliza tried to defend herself, flustered.
"Scolding someone publicly is also a form of disrespect, Miss Eliza," G6 countered, her patience visibly thinning to a thread. She turned her glare on the servants. "All of you, get out." She pointedly excluded her own three staff.
The servants hesitated, looking nervously at Eliza and the other nobles.
"We will take over from here. Thank you," Edmund interjected smoothly. "Janin, would you assist us with the food?"
Janin nodded, and the other servants scurried out, relieved. Edmund, Tina, and Lilia moved into action. Their movements were a study in efficiency—swift, precise, and utterly silent. They worked in perfect, practiced sync with their mistress's unspoken expectations.
The tension in the room was palpable, everyone on edge from G6's unpredictable mood.
I can't get it out of my mind. Maybe if I ask Dio directly, I'll get an answer? Otherwise, I'm at a complete deadlock. I never liked Eliza's character in the book, but she wasn't written as this… annoying. She's clearly different.
G6 threw a quick, analytical glance toward Eliza, who was sitting demurely beside Dio.
In the novel, Dio fell for her because she was his peaceful escape from political schemes. So why is Snow White acting like she doesn't give a damn about her?
"Lady Reise, which fork would you prefer?" Lilia's small voice asked beside her, holding up three different ornate forks.
"Are you kidding me?" G6 said, her annoyance returning. They all perform the same basic function; they're just assigned different, arbitrary purposes.
"But Lady Reise, you must choose! There are different forks and spoons for every course at a royal ball!" Lilia explained, trying to educate her grumpy mistress.
"Lilia, put them down. I am perfectly capable of using 'those useless forks,'" G6 stated, her tone firm but not unkind to the girl.
Lilia laid the utensils down, and Janin began placing them. Lilia's stomach chose that moment to emit a soft, audible growl as she smelled the food.
Right. These three probably haven't eaten since I bolted my lunch and left. They were too busy preparing for my audience with the Queen.
"Janin, bring three more meals," G6 commanded.
Her three servants froze mid-motion. They knew exactly what she was implying.
"We couldn't, Lady Reise," Tina immediately refused.
"That is not necessary, my lady," Edmund added.
"Don't worry about us!" Lilia chirped, though her smile couldn't hide her hunger.
G6 stood up. "Then, I hope you all enjoy your meal." She made to leave when Keith caught her wrist.
"Do you want me to force-feed you that plate?" G6 threatened, her voice low and dangerous.
Keith grinned, his playful spirit finally resurfacing through the tension. "Please, sit down, Reise. It's fine with us… right?" he said, turning to the others for support.
"Indeed. There is plenty of room," Dio stated, finding his voice again. "Now, unhand her."
Keith stuck his tongue out at Dio but released G6's wrist.
"Sit down, Reise. You are unusually… agitated today," Earl observed.
"Please, don't mind us! We are the ones intruding!" Brenda said with a bright smile.
"We Nocturnes are nothing if not rational guests," Zen added.
"Are you trying to say something?" Keith shot back at them.
"We're merely stating that it's beneficial when one's head isn't clogged with water, you idiot," Brenda retorted.
"Shut up, nerd! Go eat a dictionary!" Keith fired back.
The familiar, chaotic atmosphere that always seemed to surround G6 returned. They are a truly odd bunch.
G6 sat back down and fixed her gaze on Edmund. "Sit. And eat. Forgive my oversight in realizing the three of you missed lunch due to my hastiness."
"We will not refuse any longer," Edmund conceded with a deep bow. "Thank you for your understanding, Your Highness, and to all you esteemed Pillars."
"We will help Janin!" Lilia chirped happily.
"We will return shortly," Tina said.
As the three turned to fetch their meals, G6's voice stopped them cold. "If you value the people in this room, you know your way back. Correct?" Her tone was layered with a clear threat, aimed at ensuring they wouldn't use this as an excuse to hide in the kitchen and avoid dining with the nobility.
Tina turned back, a genuine smile touching her lips. "You are too kind, my lady." They continued on their way.
"You know, sometimes your kindness sounds like a threat," Keith teased.
"Why are you sitting next to me?" G6 asked him. "Are you trying to ruin my appetite?"
"We promised to stay by each other," Keith said earnestly. The statement made Dio, Earl, and Brenda look at him with a sharp gazed.
"Do you have a death wish?" G6 deadpanned.
"Have you forgotten? When we were kids, you always said, 'You're so fun to be with, Keith. Even when you tease me—'"
He was cut off as a small, controlled ball of fire flew from Dio's fingertips, singeing the tablecloth in front of him.
"Stop lying, idiot," Dio snapped.
"You know very well how she felt about Dio before," Earl added sharply, then immediately stiffened, as if he'd spoken a forbidden truth in front of this new, volatile version of Reise.
"Shut up," Keith shot back, uncharacteristically serious. "Fine, she never said it. But she was nice to me before! When I wasn't teasing her!"
G6 studied him, her head tilting slightly. This idiot isn't lying. Her mind, a finely tuned instrument for detecting deception, scanned his micro-expressions: the lack of pupil dilation, the absence of a subtle shoulder shrug, the consistency in his vocal pitch. He wasn't fabricating this; it seems like him and old Reise are indeed close.
But it seems like she wasn't showing any sign of depression before these three went to the Academy for three years.
If there's one person who witnessed Reise change. It was Tina.
"Shut up. I'm not interested in your claims," G6 stated, making Keith pout like a scolded child.
"Right, what were you doing at Aunt's place anyway?" Keith asked, his curiosity overriding his brief sulk.
G6's gaze swept over him, then to the others who were leaning in with undisguised interest—especially Dio.
"I informed her I would be spending my afternoons elsewhere," G6 said flatly.
"Are you leaving? I thought you were buried in paperwork now!" Keith exclaimed, genuine disappointment in his voice.
"Indeed. Are you not reviewing the proposals from the Sanctum and Omnia?" Earl added, adjusting his glasses.
"You are an employee of the Royal Collegium. You are expected to remain on the premises during working hours," Dio stated, his tone that of a prince reminding someone of protocol.
These idiots. They're like children whining about the rules of a game.
"You can't do anything about it. Even my boss couldn't stop me," G6 said, a mocking edge to her voice, subtly reminding them that the Queen herself had sanctioned this.
"Aunt is far too easy on you!" Keith grumbled.
"It's true," Earl added, a hint of playful, non-toxic jealousy in his tone. "She never showed such favoritism among the Pillar heirs before. You seem to be the exception."
I guess I have to speak their language.
"Then why don't you marry her son? Then you could be her favorite too," G6 said, her delivery deadpan as she looked directly at Earl.
The effect was instant. Dio's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Keith burst into uproarious laughter.
"Earl! I thought you only had eyes for ladies! Is that why you've been rejecting all those engagement offers? Your interests lie… elsewhere?" Keith teased mercilessly.
"Brother Earl…?" Zen whispered, his eyes wide, actually believing Keith's foolishness for a second.
"I will personally ensure your next meal is nothing but dirt and gravel if you do not cease this instant," Earl threatened, his composure finally cracking.
"Well, perhaps that improves my chances with Lady Reise!" Brenda interjected cheerfully, seemingly out of nowhere.
Dio's head snapped toward her. "What in the world are you babbling about, you unhinged woman?"
"Shut up, you pile of sh—" Brenda's retort was cut short as Earl delivered a sharp kick under the table. His eyes flicked meaningfully toward Eliza, a silent reminder of the outsider in their midst.
"Ow! That hurt," Brenda whined, rubbing her shin.
Then, a clever glint appeared in her eyes. "Lady Reise," she began, her tone shifting to one of polite inquiry. "Might I ask you something?"
"What is it?" G6 replied, already knowing where this was headed.
"It seems that in this main building, you are the sole occupant of the entire second floor," Brenda stated innocently.
What? Right, the servants have their own quarters. So I'm all alone on that entire, ridiculously large floor?
"Now that you mention it, yes," G6 confirmed.
Brenda's smile widened. "You see, I reside a full thirty minutes from the palace. While the head families of the Pillars may live here, the Collegium dormitories are really only for Sanctum and Omnia scholars. And as a woman, it's rather… awkward for me to stay there." She let the implication hang in the air. Everyone could see exactly where she was going with this.
A convenient tool is delivering itself to me. What a feast.
"You can stay here. I don't mind," G6 said, her voice suddenly adopting a warmth that made everyone glance at her in surprise. Brenda hadn't even finished her petition.
"R-Really, Lady Reise? Is it truly alright? I wouldn't be an intrusion?" Brenda asked, her cheerfulness returning full force. "Ah, but of course, we would need Her Majesty's consent. She oversees all residency within the palace grounds," she added, remembering the chain of command.
"My boss is cool with it. She's far more rational than you give her credit for," G6 said, a sharp, almost predatory smile playing on her lips.
"Tch. I see what you're doing," Keith mused. "Well, I'll just move in here too, then."
"Don't be stupid. You already live here," G6 shot back.
"Yeah, in Annex-Unus!" Keith argued. "It's not the same!"
"You absolutely cannot!" Brenda fired back, protective of her newfound opportunity.
"It is highly inappropriate for an unrelated man to reside in the same dwelling as an unmarried woman," Earl stated primly.
"Then I suppose it would be acceptable for me to relocate to the main building," Dio interjected casually, taking a sip of water.
"It is equally inappropriate for a betrothed man to cohabitate with his fiancée before the wedding vows are exchanged," Earl countered swiftly, his logic impeccable.
"Then wasn't her sitting atop you earlier today the very pinnacle of impropriety?" Dio retorted, his jealousy finally breaking through his princely facade.
Earl flushed, completely flustered by the rebuttal. Keith grinned, utterly enjoying the spectacle. Brenda fumed, caught between her two rivals. Zen looked deeply embarrassed by the entire chaotic turn of events.
And Eliza… Eliza was drowning. She sat silently, her food untouched, a placid smile frozen on her face as this overwhelming, intimate dynamic swirled around her, a conversation to which she had no right to contribute. She was a living artifact, not a person. A commoner with a divine gift, tolerated but never included.
"Shut up, eat, and then leave," G6 commanded, finally picking up her fork and decisively ending the debate.
The others fell silent, following her lead and swallowing their arguments along with their food.
The clatter of cutlery was the only sound for a few minutes, the air thick with unspoken tension and rivalry. Seizing a momentary lull, Eliza gently cleared her throat, her voice a delicate, hesitant chime trying to fracture the silence.
"The… the preservation magic on these winterberries is remarkable," she began, her tone reverent. "To taste fruit so fresh out of season… it is a true blessing from Eldrin. It reminds me of the first harvest festival I attended here at the capital. To think His divine grace allows even the lowliest of his servants to partake in such wonders." She looked around the table, her gaze hopeful yet fearful, trying to steer the conversation toward the one thing that granted her any value here: her connection to the god that defined the kingdom itself.
A beat of silence followed. Then, G6's voice, flat and devoid of all respect, cut through it.
"Who's Eldrin?"
The effect was instantaneous. Every head swiveled to stare at her, their expressions a uniform mask of utter, horrified disbelief. It was the highest form of blasphemy, a ignorance so profound it was nearly unthinkable.
A slow, cold smirk spread across G6's lips. "I'm just kidding."
Eliza visibly flinched, her carefully constructed composure cracking. She shrunk back into her chair, silenced by the sheer, casual cruelty of the mockery. G6 knew exactly who God Eldrin was; his name was plastered through the novel she'd read. But in this world, standing amidst his supposed blessings, she found the concept as hollow as she had in her last life. It was a deliberate act of desecration, a subtle knife twisted only for the one who would feel its edge most keenly.
"You almost got me there, Reise…" Keith said, his playful tone trying and failing to lift the sudden, heavy atmosphere.
The moment was salvaged by the door opening, revealing Lilia, Edmund, and Tina with another service cart.
"Our apologies for the delay, Lady Reise," Edmund said. They moved to sit at a smaller round table near the window, closer to G6. "We hope you do not mind if we sit here, for our own comfort," Tina added.
"I don't care," G6 barked, her mood still dark.
"Lady Reise, a servant delivered this for you from Her Majesty!" Lilia chirped, hurrying over to hand G6 an elegant letter sealed with the royal crest.
G6 wiped her hands indifferently on her napkin and tore the letter open, its delicate parchment meant for ceremony, not for her rough handling.
Her eyes scanned the Queen's script.
'Dear Reise,
I know I said I don't have a problem with you spending half of your day in the Utility Magic Department, but I want you to make sure Tina can do your job properly.
You have three days to prepare her, and make Earl do the proofreading. That's all. I'm glad you are finally getting yourself ready for your married life soon..
Best Wishes,
The Queen.'
"What the hell is she talking about?" G6 snapped aloud, her grip tightening on the paper, crumpling its edges.
Keith and Earl looked over. "What's wrong?" Keith asked.
"What is this about me 'getting ready for marriage'? Tina!" G6 yelled, her voice sharp.
Tina immediately stood and walked over, taking the offered letter. She read it, then adjusted her glasses, her gaze turning analytical. "Isn't that the reason you are going there?" she asked, her tone cool and probing. "If not… then what, precisely, is your purpose?"
The others watched, confused, still in the dark about G6's plans.
G6 felt a rare flicker of being cornered by the interrogation. Seeing this, her co-conspirator, Edmund, stood and cleared his throat.
"Of course, that is the reason," he stated smoothly, moving close enough to G6 to whisper under his breath. "My lady, it is traditional for a noblewoman to study Utility Magic in preparation for managing her future household. It is the perfect, unquestionable cover."
G6's eye twitched. "And you suggested this to me? Are you kidding me?" she whispered back, venom in her tone.
"It is a flawless alibi," he whispered, a hint of pride in his efficiency.
He stepped away. All eyes, especially Tina's, were locked on her, waiting.
G6 forced her expression into something resembling compliance. "Ah. Of course. I would like to prepare myself for this… stupid marriage," she stated, the last two words dripping with contempt.
Tina and Edmund returned to their seats.
"Did she just call Dio stupid?" Keith whispered to Zen.
"No, she did not. Do not start trouble," Zen chided.
"So, you're going to the Utility Magic Department," Dio stated, finally piecing it together as he casually took a bite of food.
"What? Reise? You want to be a good wife to Dio?" Keith asked, a teasing lilt returning to his voice.
"Hmm… that is both unsurprising and yet entirely surprising," Earl mused.
"So you do still love Dio," Keith declared, aiming to provoke a reaction.
The word hung in the air like a challenge.
Love?
At the word, G6's hands stilled, her knife and fork hovering over the quail on her plate. Then, a smile touched her lips—not of warmth, but of deep, acrid bitterness. It was the smile of someone about to dissect a beautiful lie.
"Love?" she began, her voice low and carrying to every corner of the silent room. "When you marry a person, it doesn't mean you love them. Sometimes, it's for politics. A whim. A transaction. A… need." She let the words sink in, her gaze distant, seeing not the people before her but the countless failed relationships stored in her mental files.
"If such a thing as true love existed," she continued, her voice gaining a sharper, more cynical edge, "a man wouldn't seek comfort in another woman's bed the moment he grows bored. He wouldn't ask his wife for permission to take a concubine, treating her heart like a business proposal."
She looked around the table, her grey eyes cold and analytical. "Love is a subjective chemical reaction. A fleeting delusion. You cannot swear you will love your partner tomorrow. You might wake up and realize it was never love at all. Just infatuation. Convenience. The fear of being alone. Or perhaps you were just too young and foolish to understand the weight of a commitment."
Her words weren't born of personal heartbreak, but from a lifetime of clinical observation. She had seen it in films, read it in files, and most importantly, witnessed it in the raw, ugly reality of her past life—the broken marriages of targets, the desperate lies people told themselves.
"You cannot simply say you love a person and make it an immutable truth. Feelings are the most unreliable data in existence."
She paused, letting the chilling silence stretch. Then she delivered the final, brutal verdict.
"Love is not a blessing. It is a destructive force."
The room was utterly still, swallowed whole by the harsh, unvarnished reality of her worldview.
"I once saw a woman ruin herself because of 'love'," she said, her eyes finally locking onto Dio's, holding his gaze with terrifying intensity. "She was beautiful. Rich. She said, 'Even if I were as angelic as my face, even if I sell all my assets and donate it to the church. He will never love me.'"
G6's bitter smile returned, a cruel, mocking twist of her lips. "Then she jumped off her balcony."
She let the image hang in the air for a horrifying second.
"I laughed at her." The admission was delivered with chilling indifference. "I found her weakness pathetic. Who would have thought," she mused, her voice dropping to a near whisper that was somehow louder than a shout, "that I would one day become her?"
The final, chilling whisper of G6's words—"that I would one day become her?"—faded into a silence so profound it felt like a physical weight pressing down on the opulent dining hall. The clatter of her knife and fork on the fine china was the period at the end of a devastating sentence.
For a long moment, no one moved. No one breathed.
The first crack in the silence was a small, choked gasp. Lilia's wide, innocent eyes welled with tears that spilled over onto her cheeks. She wasn't crying out of fear of her mistress, but from a deep, confused sorrow for her. The beautiful, simple world of her understanding had been shattered into sharp, ugly pieces.
Edmund sat rigid at the smaller table, his face a mask of neutral alarm. His eyes, however, darted between his mistress and the stunned nobility, rapidly calculating the diplomatic catastrophe her bleak philosophy had just unleashed.
Tina had gone deathly pale. Her hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists in her lap, her analytical mind short-circuiting, unable to process the profound darkness in her lady's confession. She stared as if seeing a terrifying stranger.
Keith's face was slack with a hurt so profound it robbed him of all his usual energy. He looked like a lost child, his playful teasing utterly extinguished as he searched her face for a joke and found only barren truth.
Brenda and Zen looked desperately uncomfortable, focusing intently on the intricate design of their plats as if it held the answers, wishing they could sink through the floor and escape the oppressive grimness that had replaced the earlier chaos.
Eliza had brought a hand to her throat, her face ashen. G6's speech felt like a violent rejection of the divine blessings and dreams that gave her life purpose. Her foundation shook, and she looked toward Prince Dio for an anchor he did not provide.
Yet, Dio offered her no comfort. He wasn't looking at her at all. His intense gaze was locked on G6, but it held no anger, no pity. Instead, there was a frightening, razor-sharp focus. He was not hearing the lament of a jaded woman; he was dissecting the testimony of a unique specimen. Her cold analysis, her clinical delivery of a tragedy, and most of all, her admission that she had laughed at another's suicide—it all painted a picture not of a broken heart, but of a fundamentally broken soul. And to a prince trained to see people as chess pieces and potential threats, she had just revealed herself to be the most fascinating and dangerous puzzle in the room.
The grand feast before them had turned to ash in their mouths. The elegant dining hall no longer felt like a place of celebration, but a mausoleum for an ideal that had just been brutally executed before them.
G6 surveyed the scene—the tears, the anger, the stunned silence, the calculating fascination—with an air of utter detachment. She had merely stated observable facts. The resulting emotional wreckage was not her concern; it was just more data points confirming her hypothesis.
Then, a small, warm weight crashed into her side.
Lilia, unable to bear the profound sorrow radiating from her mistress, had scrambled from her chair and wrapped her arms tightly around G6's waist, burying her tear-streaked face against her. Her small body trembled.
"It's okay, Lady Reise," she whispered, her voice muffled by the fabric of G6's gown. "You don't have to suffer that kind of love. It's okay."
The contact was sudden, unrequested, and broke every one of G6's rules. Yet, the violent recoil she normally would have exhibited didn't come. Instead, her rigid posture softened by a fraction. She looked down at the crown of Lilia's head, and for a fleeting moment, the cold, analytical grey of her eyes thawed.
A memory surfaced, unbidden. Her father's voice, cold and absolute, as they sat watching children play in a park much like the one in her memory.
"You are to burden the sins of others," he had said, "so they could enjoy their ignorant peace."
A small, almost imperceptible sigh escaped G6's lips. Her hand, usually poised to strike or deflect, came up and rested, with a strange, awkward gentleness, on Lilia's back.
"Don't worry," G6 said, her voice quieter than anyone had ever heard it. It wasn't cold, but carried a deep, ancient weariness. "People like me exist so that people like you can enjoy what peace and love are."
She offered a smile then, but it was a complex thing. It held a trace of genuine affection for the girl in her arms, but it was edged with a bitterness so profound it was etched into her very soul. It was the smile of someone who knew they were the shield, forever standing in the darkness so others could live in the light.
As the memory crystallized, a strange energy seemed to emanate from G6. It wasn't magic, not quite. It was a feeling—a wave of profound, aching warmth that spoke of a protective instinct so deep it was elemental, mixed with a pain so vast it was a void. For a single, breathtaking moment, everyone in the room felt it. They felt the ghost of the childhood that had been ripped from her, the life of simple joys she had been forced to trade for a weapon's purpose. They felt the weight of the sins she had been born to carry.
They understood, in that silent, shared moment, that her cruelty was not innate. It was forged. She had been robbed of the chance to even understand the feelings she so easily dismissed as "disgusting" and "annoying." Her father's first and final lesson had been carved into her bones before she could even form her own thoughts: You were not born to dream.You were born to cleanse. Her purpose was to remove the trash, the criminals, the liars, and the corrupt—to be the world's sin-bearer.
And in doing so, her own humanity had been the first thing she was forced to discard.
The moment passed as quickly as it came. The warmth receded, leaving behind the familiar, cool emptiness. But the echo of it lingered in the silent room, a haunting testament to the person who might have been, had the world not needed a Reaper.
— To be continued… —