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Dream at Dawn – Part 04

Away from the grave, where Kazuya’s voice echoed low and passionately, Victorique was alone, opening a piece of paper secretly taken from the corpse’s cameo brooch.

Her face turned pale. Before she even had time to think, she tied the paper tightly around the leg of the pigeon perched on her shoulder.

She turned her gaze to the darkening evening sky, uneasy and terrified.

An owl hooted. It felt like she was in a deep forest, not the city of Saubreme.

She looked around. Again an owl sounded, long and full of sorrow, as though in response to the little girl.

“Maman!” Victorique’s lips trembled in fear. “This is not good. A headless corpse of a noblewoman was found in the grave of the dancer Nicole Leroux, but it cannot be her. A short letter from a brooch. This is not good. A secret that could threaten our lives lurks here.”

An owl cried once more.

Crows continued to circle the spire, black wings spread wide. What was a single crow had now increased to four, looking down at the mysterious corpse.

“No one must know of this letter. Or none of us will return alive. Maman!”

“There you are.” Her brother’s voice came from behind.

The dove immediately flew into the sky. Without looking back, it soared towards the direction of the church, and eventually vanished from sight.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” Victorique turned around.

Inspector Blois, with his pointy, golden cannon, was smiling contentedly. A white rabbit was sitting on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Victorique asked.

“The little guy’s surprisingly heavy. My arms were getting tired, so I put it on my shoulder.”

“I see. Knock yourself out.” She tilted her head. “I was deep in thought, is all.”

“Are you sure?” There was suspicion in Inspector Blois’s voice. “You were acting weird just now!”

“No, I wasn’t. And I don’t want to hear that from someone who’s always acting weird.”

Inspector Blois gnashed his teeth. The rabbit sniffed, watching the inspector dubiously from up close.

Victorique returned to the group as if nothing had happened. Her face had already regained its icy expression. There was neither fear nor panic in her deep, green eyes.

Kazuya finally finished his prayer and stood up, looking at Victorique.

“This body must be examined,” Marquis de Blois murmured.

Everyone’s breath came out in white puffs. It was getting darker, and colder. Dead leaves fell onto heads, shoulders, shoes. The wind blew, rippling the hair and scarves of everyone present. A crow cawed overhead.

“Gentlemen,” Victorique said. “I have gathered the fragments of chaos.” She looked around. “They are currently being toyed with within me, reconfigured, and slowly reaching the truth.”

Marquis de Blois and the officials of the Ministry of the Occult all regarded Victorique’s face. Kazuya drew closer to her in defense, and so did Ms. Cecile.

“Let us head back to the theater.”

“I see. That could only mean one thing.” Marquis de Blois chuckled eerily. It sounded like the door to hell opening.

Looking up into his face, the pale-faced Victorique nodded. A wisp of white smoke rose from her pipe.

A cold wind blew.

“It’s showtime,” she declared forcefully.

---

Carriages and automobiles pulled up on the pavement in front of the Phantom Theater, and dressed-up people disembarked. Feathers on the ladies’ hats, the men’s intricate walking sticks, and the ribbons in the hair of young girls glittered in the evening sunlight.

Dry leaves rustled in the wind. The sun was setting, and its magnificent light, soft as fresh cream, fell on the cold buildings and cobblestones.

The traffic was heavy, and the front of the theater was especially festive. Guests who had come to watch the revival of ‘The Blue Rose of Saubreme,’ due to start soon, were entering excitedly through the doors that resembled the mouth of a giant lion. Passersby walking along the pavement looked up at the theater’s signboard and nodded, their eyes flickering with interest. Hooves clattered as carriages rode away.

Inside the Phantom, the spacious floor, covered with a red carpet, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, was already filled with guests. Their murmurs sounded like a giant creature’s sigh.

At the far end of the floor, the door leading to the first-floor seating area was already open. Dark-purple seats were lined up in rows inside. The seats on the first and second floor were already half-filled. Guests were talking with their companies.

In the middle of the first floor were splendid seats, occupied by an odd trio.

Sitting in the middle was a fine young woman with fiery red hair and freckled cheeks. She was sitting with her coat still on, for some reason. The apron peeking out from under indicated that she rushed here without much planning.

The woman—Sophie, the dorm mother—was lifting the photograph on her lap, plates and teacups, smiling. She had bought a lot of Coco Rose goods at the shop, it seemed. She grabbed a blue fan and opened it. It depicted Queen Coco with her right palm on her cheek and her right elbow resting on the back of her left hand, wearing a melancholic expression on her face. Sophie’s smile grew wider. She liked it.

Sitting to the right of her was a man who looked like a government official, wearing a sour look. He was one of the two men she bumped into at the entrance of the theater and gave her a ticket by chance. His companion called him Roget. For reasons unknown, he was staring at the stage curtain grimly when he was here to watch a play. His face was ferocious, as though a sworn enemy lurked on the other side.

To Sophie’s left sat a classy gentleman with a hat pulled low over his eyes. Apparently, he had mistakenly given her the ticket to the middle seat.

The two gentlemen did not talk much, perhaps because there was a stranger sitting between them.

The classy man was gazing blankly at the curtains. He occasionally glanced at Sophie’s purchases and shuddered in fear for some reason.

The show would start soon.

When Sophie studied her haul again, the man sitting to her left suddenly stood up.

Startled, the man to her right looked up. “What’s wrong, Your Majesty?!”

“I have a bad feeling in my gut. I can’t relax.”

“The sensation of having a bad feeling in one’s gut has been around since time immemorial,” the other man said. “Scientifically, it’s because your mind sounds an alarm when you see or hear something that could cause worry, but you’re not aware of it. You must’ve seen or heard something, and your mind is alerting you.”

“We’ll watch the play tomorrow. I…” He paused and shook his head listlessly.

His hat tipped to the side a bit, showing his short, neatly-combed blond hair. His face was slender and somewhat bony.

The men stood up.

“Excuse us, Mademoiselle,” one said.

And then they left.

“Are they not going to watch?” Sophie wondered. “Strange bunch.”

For a while she observed her purchase eagerly. She looked around and saw more and more guests coming in.

“I, uh…” she mumbled anxiously. She got up her seat and put a hand to her cheek. “I… I’m gonna buy more Coco Rose stuff!” she declared.

As she shuffled across the floor, she remembered something.

“I gotta buy Cecile a souvenir. She gets lonely easily. She looks quiet but she’s actually very irritable. She gets mad when she finds out I went to the city alone. So I always invite her when I come to Saubreme for shopping. Ah, fine.” Shrugging, she hurried away.

“She’s a noble at heart, but she works hard every day as a professional. I’m the only one she can rely on. She’s such a handful…”

While walking, someone small sprinted to Sophie’s direction and kicked her shin as hard as possible.

“Ouch!” Sophie whirled around. “Who kicked me?!”

Standing there was Ms. Cecile, her cheeks puffed up like balloons.

Sophie blinked curiously. “If it isn’t Cecile,” she muttered. She wasn’t angry. “What are you doing…” She leaped to the side.

Ms. Cecile’s second strike missed, and she face-planted on the floor.