Chapter 57
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Chapter 57
'So the blood of a necromancer—no, a medium—truly flows through my veins....'
Throughout the morning, I turned Aunt Elicia's words over and over in my mind, yet I could not bring myself to believe them. A wildflower among sunflowers, or a black sheep among a white flock—I had always assumed my differences from my sisters stemmed merely from my appearance or my tomboyish nature.
'But Aunt Elicia said that a lady with the ability of a medium has always existed in secret within the Augusta Family, one per generation. Always appearing somewhat different from the rest of the family....'
It was only then that I realized—perhaps my encounter with Leopold, and my sensing the scent of blood and hearing phantom sounds on the day the porters were murdered, had been no accident at all.
In that moment, a gentle man's voice reached my ears from beside me.
"Miss Charlotte, were you listening?"
I shook the thoughts from my mind and turned to regard the blue-eyed man.
"Pardon? Oh, I was lost in thought for a moment...."
That afternoon, following my conversation with Aunt Elicia, Philip came to call. He arrived bearing an armful of lavish flowers unseasonable for autumn—blooms cultivated in the Oslo Estate's greenhouse. He had come to apologize for his arrest of Jane during his previous visit to the Augusta Family.
"I have been deeply troubled by what transpired. I feared you would never wish to see me again, Miss Charlotte."
Philip spoke with an expression tinged with bitterness.
"That cannot be so. The entire Search Party suspects Jane—Count Oslo had no choice in the matter."
I shook my head in response. I could understand Philip. From all I had witnessed of him thus far, he would have done everything in his power to handle matters fairly. I remembered the anguished expression on his face when he had called Jane's name upon arriving at the Augusta Family, how he had approached me and whispered that he would do his utmost to help her.
"Moreover, it was only thanks to you returning Jane home and swearing to take responsibility for everything that she was released at all."
I spoke with genuine gratitude. However brilliant my defense may have been, without Philip's assurance as the investigating officer, it would have been far more difficult for Jane to return home that very day.
"After hearing your brilliant defense, Miss Charlotte, I felt as though the Search Party and I had been thoroughly outmatched. Here I was, criticizing incompetent noble officers, only to realize I had become one of them."
Upon hearing my response, Philip's tension eased somewhat, and he offered a reassuring smile as he spoke.
"I was merely rushing the investigation, so I overlooked the fifth porter and the larger picture. Now, thanks to Charlotte's insight, the Search Party is refocusing their efforts on finding the fifth porter."
Charlotte nodded, seeming relieved.
Just as she had told Armand, she had also mentioned to Philip that Homang's daughter might be the fifth porter. However, seeing how the Search Party suspected Harrison yet lacked concrete evidence to investigate him, she had decided to request Armand—someone capable of moving discreetly—to conduct a separate investigation.
Philip matched Charlotte's measured pace, hesitating briefly before he spoke.
"To be honest, I was surprised that you already knew about the deaths of the four porters. According to our agreement, I should have informed you first, but the discovery of the murder scene happened to occur the day after the Ball, so...."
Philip's voice grew hollow, like a dog that had committed some grave transgression.
"It was the day after you collapsed at our Estate. I couldn't bring myself to share such dreadful news, lest it disturb your mind while you were suffering from fever."
"Please, don't worry about that. Count Oslo looked after me in the Gallery that night, and he safely escorted me home. I know full well that Philip Oslo acts with pure intentions, always doing his best for my wellbeing, and I'm deeply grateful for it."
Charlotte spoke with courtesy, bowing her head slightly. As she did, the soft hair at her temple swayed gently, capturing Philip's gaze.
"Pure intentions... No, that's not right. I may be far weaker and more cowardly than you believe."
"Pardon?"
As Philip's cheeks flushed like peaches, Charlotte looked at him with an expression asking what he meant.
"Charlotte, would you perhaps listen to a concern of mine?"
Philip suddenly posed the question to her.
As a military officer, Philip's regimented footsteps seemed unable to align with Charlotte's narrow, liberated stride. It felt as though his opportunities to converse with her kept slipping away.
Unable to wait for Charlotte's response, Philip continued.
"I've always been certain of everything. I thought I understood so well what was right and what was wrong. Yet this unfamiliar emotion I've been experiencing lately... it somehow entered my heart and torments me greatly."
Philip spoke without concealing the earnestness that colored his voice.
"These days, I cannot understand my own heart, nor anyone else's."
Philip gazed at Charlotte with a wistful expression, accompanied by a small sigh. His face bore the mingled weight of longing and fear.
"Do you suppose Miss Charlotte understands this feeling as well? This perpetual sense of reaching toward someone in your heart, yet forever missing them by a breath?"
Philip halted abruptly, his voice still heavy with frustration and sorrow as he continued.
"Sometimes, even as I sit at my desk in the Study, I find myself imagining that someone's warm gaze and the wisdom etched in their smile. And yet... I cannot fathom it."
Philip's left hand rose slowly toward Charlotte's cheek. But as her face—pale with shock—proved different from what he had anticipated, his hand froze mid-gesture.
Philip spoke with a bitter gleam in his eyes.
"I wait, expressing my respect and affection in my own way. Will the day ever come when that person understands my sincerity? When they tell me my patience and my manner of expression were right? If not..."
Philip's left hand withdrew from Charlotte's cheek, falling limply to his side with a soft thud.
"...am I doing something terribly wrong?"
Deep confusion and sorrow settled across Philip's features.
"P-Philip Oslo..."
Charlotte called his name with aching tenderness. Her heart ached because his words sounded like a confession of love—trembling with fear, the subject left unspoken.
Yet Charlotte could not offer him the kindness of telling him to follow his heart, or that he was surely doing well. His gaze seemed too troubled and confused, and worse still, the thought crept into her mind that the "someone" he spoke of might be none other than herself.
Charlotte looked up at Philip's face. His blue eyes resembled a rain-swept sea—lonely and melancholic. Intelligent and perceptive as he was, Philip had likely already gleaned every answer from her faint response.
"I, that is to say..."
Charlotte began another sentence without knowing where it would lead, but Philip seemed to believe he had no reason to hear her words.
Philip spoke at last.
"Sometimes I wish I could read souls as you do, Miss Charlotte, so that I might find my answer."
He lifted his gaze to meet hers. Perhaps because of her confession as a necromancer, Charlotte sometimes seemed wiser than anyone else to him, and at other times, she seemed as extraordinary as the Augusta Family's "black sheep" epithet suggested. Yet contrary to his hope, she would be powerless to resolve his pitiful dilemma.
Charlotte, listening to Philip's troubles, opened her mouth with an awkward expression.
"Count Oslo, perhaps... when there is no response, you must accept it and let go."
I couldn't be certain whether the "person who troubled his heart" that he spoke of truly referred to her, but having resolved to love Leopold, she had decided to leave Philip no room for hope whatsoever.
"Because at the end of a wait without answers, disappointment and pain only grow deeper."
At Charlotte's words, Philip's pure white face became drenched in profound disappointment and sorrow.
***
That night, Leopold's eyes opened in Charlotte's modest bedroom. He found her turned away from him, earnestly writing something down.
"Your Highness Leopold... that night, I mean..."
Leopold heard Charlotte murmuring something intently to herself—the very voice that had awakened him. As he watched her hair sway gently with each scratching motion of her pen, he felt a smile bloom unbidden at the corners of his lips.
"Charlotte."
Leopold called her name softly, taking care not to startle her.
"Your Highness, you're awake!"
Charlotte turned around with a radiant smile. Both her cheeks were smudged with ink stains, and the vanity table that had clearly belonged to a lady was covered with densely written notes.
"Have you decided to become a writer?"
Leopold's eyes twinkled as he observed the bundles of papers concealed behind her form.
"It's even better news than that!"
Charlotte cried out in a voice far more animated than usual.
"This afternoon, I received a letter from Armand. It's about news regarding Tiffany Martin—the daughter of the porter Homann Martin."
Charlotte sprang from her seat and bounded into Leopold's embrace like a rabbit. From her emanated a sweet and alluring spring fragrance, like magnolia blossoms. Leopold lifted her effortlessly into his arms.
'Just last night—no, even this morning—she was looking at me as though she might burst into tears at any moment.'
Leopold held the light Charlotte aloft on his forearms, gazing up at her radiant face. That such joyful news—news that could make this lady of such luminous spirit smile so broadly—concerned the perpetrator of a murder or a disappearance... Leopold's heart grew slightly bitter.
Then, as if Charlotte had read his very thoughts, her face broke into an even wider smile.
"Actually, Your Highness, there's another piece of news that has me absolutely thrilled—something beyond what concerns Tiffany Martin."
I leaned closer to Leopold, my flushed cheeks nearly touching his as I spoke.
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Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org
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