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Cordelia’s Daughter – Part 03

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Translator: Kell

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Victorique listened to Sergius’ story.

“Cordelia came running out of the study, screaming. We rushed to her and held her down as she flailed in terror. When I entered the study, it was dark. I held out my candle and found Elder Theodore lying on his face. He was already dead, stabbed in his upper back with a dagger. The bloodstained tip of the blade was protruding from his chest. And for some odd reason…” Sergius paused, and in a very curious voice, added, “…there were a lot of gold coins scattered all over the floor.”

“Gold coins?”

“Yes. About twenty pieces, I believe. But since we don’t use gold coins in this village, Elder Theodore had stashed them away. The gold coins were soaked in his blood and stained red.”

“…”

“After that, Cordelia was confined to bed with a high fever. Apparently, she kept mumbling “so many round, pretty things” over and over. She probably meant the coins. We discussed the matter over while she was bedridden. Ten days passed. When her fever broke and she was able to get up, I, as the next village chief, banished her from the village.”

“You banished her?” Kazuya said.

“I did. I sent her out of the village with a suitcase and one gold coin, then raised the drawbridge. I didn’t even know if she made it down the mountain safely. Wild wolves, steep cliffs, mountain torrents. I didn’t think that a girl, who had never left the village, would make it safely to the town at the foot of the mountain. I still remember her face, clutching a single gold coin, her green eyes filled with tears, looking up at the drawbridge as it rose. Cordelia was an orphan. No one taught her how to climb down the mountain, no one gave her warm clothes or food or anything. Her only guardian was me, the village chief’s assistant. She had no relatives, so I had her work as a maid in the manor. It was I who handed down her punishment. Cordelia must have spent several days climbing down the mountains to the city. It had not even been long since she recovered. But she managed to survive. And now her daughter has come.”

“How… How could you banish her?” Kazuya said.

“We could think of no other culprit than her,” he went on. “The study was locked from the inside. She said so herself. There were only two keys. One of them was in Elder Theodore’s person, and the other with Cordelia. Moreover, she said that when she entered the study, she used the candlestick in her hand to look around. There was no one there but Elder Theodore and her. She claimed that he was already dead at that time, but it didn’t make sense. Something must have happened after she entered the study that ended up with her killing Elder Theodore. She then developed a fever, most likely out of remorse.”

“But that’s not enough proof that she’s the culprit.”

“I did not err in my judgment,” the old man breathed. “With the death of Elder Theodore, I became the next village chief. My ruling is absolute.”

“But…”

“Wrongdoers must be dealt with. Otherwise, misfortune will befall the village. It is my duty to protect this place.”

“…”

“Cordelia committed an evil deed,” he reemphasized. “That is the only explanation.”

“I’d like to see the study,” Victorique said.

Sergius shook his head. “I can’t allow that.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want guests wandering around.”

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They were provided guest rooms located on the manor’s third floor. Large canopied beds sat in the middle of the spacious rooms. Huge mirrors that showed the chest up were built into the walls, and glossy velvet curtains hung inside.

Victorique, Kazuya, Mildred, Alan, Derek, and Raoul were assigned rooms in that order. Kazuya took Victorique’s luggage and carried it to her room. She didn’t so much as glance at him. Her small hand was on her chin in thought.

Victorique put her pipe in her mouth, and lit it. She then stretched, reached for a string at the edge of the window, and pulled hard.

The curtains slowly rolled open, revealing a view of stone balconies and dense oak trees.

Squinting, she stared at the scenery.

“Is something wrong?” Kazuya asked, moving beside her.

The dreary cemetery behind the old cathedral was visible through the trees.

Victorique remained silent for a while. Then abruptly she left the room.

Kazuya quickly followed. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going for a walk.”

“A walk?”

Victorique did not reply. She placed one hand on the shiny bronze railing and descended the grand marble staircase.

Harminia, who was cleaning with a brass bucket and a white cloth in her hands, craned her head like a snake and followed the little girl’s figure with her gaze.

Once she made it past the front porch, Victorique slowed down, allowing Kazuya to catch up. He fell in beside her.

They passed a few villagers on the cobblestone path. None spared them any glance. Victorique herself walked along without looking at them.

“Where are you going?” a voice called.

Kazuya spun. He didn’t even notice the young man behind him, almost as if he blended in with the fog.

His old-fashioned attire, reminiscent of costumes in Shakespearean plays, instantly identified him as one of the villagers. He had long, golden hair tied at the back, and clear, white skin as smooth as a girl’s. His eyes were the same deep green as Victorique’s, but devoid of emotion. His face was as cold as a Noh mask.

Kazuya remembered him—Sergius’ assistant, who was with the village chief the whole time. He had shown genuine surprise at the things that Alan and his friends showed him.

“I can be your guide,” he said. “Oh, my name is Ambrose. Nice to meet you.”

Oh? Kazuya’s impression of Ambrose suddenly changed. Once he started smiling, he started to look like a spirited and cheerful young man. His cheeks were red and full of life. His lady-like, finely chiseled features began showing a charming, joyful expression.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve had guests from outside, so, uhm, I’m glad. I’ll try not to get too carried away.”

“Are you welcoming us?” Kazuya asked, surprised.

Ambrose fell silent for a bit, unsure what to say. “The villagers don’t like change. They don’t like interacting with people from other cultures. Elder Sergius says the people outside live horrible lifestyles.”

“Do you agree with him?”

“I…” He went silent once more.

He studied Kazuya’s face and body. Kazuya felt uneasy. Next Ambrose reached out to touch him. His lady-like features made Kazuya reluctant, but he eventually gave in. Ambrose rubbed Kazuya’s cheeks curiously, pulled his hair, and so on. Kazuya tried to bear it at first, but he eventually snapped.

“What’s your problem?!”

“I was just wondering why your skin and hair color are different. I knew that people in the outside world are not all blonde…”

It was apparently the first time he had ever seen an asian. He looked into Kazuya’s eyes, and patted his face.

“Victorique, help!”

The girl snorted and looked up at Ambrose. “Can you show me somewhere?”

“Just tell me where you want to go,” he said with a smile. “In return, can I touch this person a little longer?”

“Feel free.”

“Vi—!”

Victorique turned the other way. “Take me to Cordelia’s house,” she said.

Ambrose’s fingers suddenly turned cold. He pulled his hand away from Kazuya’s face and stared at Victorique. Color had left his face, and only glassy eyes and a blank expression—the same as the rest of the villagers—remained.

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