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Siblings – Part 01

The room was quiet.

From the corridor came the patter of the detectives’ leather shoes and Kazuya giving Inspector Blois a piece of his mind, but in this room, no one said a word. There were only two people staring at each other—a small, regal girl with golden hair hanging down to the floor like an unraveled silk turban, and a noble youth with gray eyes, glinting sharply with fierce emotions.

A moment later, the young man glanced at the door again, as though waiting for someone to arrive.

“They should be here to pick you up soon,” Victorique said. “I can tell.”

“I see. So you’ve got it all figured out, Miss Gray Wolf.” Gideon smiled, showing his composure. Victorique frowned a little. “The girl that Marquis Albert de Blois fathered from a dancer. A fearsome golden pup, with the blood of a Gray Wolf and this country’s nobility. The ultimate weapon of the Old World.”

“I’m not the Old World’s weapon. I am me.”

“I don’t know about that. Sometimes children have no choice but to follow their parent’s wishes.”

“I am me,” Victorique repeated softly.

A chilling silence filled the space. The thin wisp of smoke drifting from the white ceramic pipe to the ceiling wobbled slightly. Victorique’s tiny hand must have trembled.

“Whatever,” Gideon dismissed. “Marquis de Blois will decide what to do with you. Anyway, you know how I did it, don’t you? The Orphan’s wet glass, a sign that it was cold, while the Vassal’s wasn’t. When I introduced the poison in the supposedly-empty glass. Why she was fine the first time she took a sip, but started groaning in pain the second time.”

Victorique gave a small smile. “You planted poison in the glass. Only one glass was chilled. First you put poison at the bottom and froze it, then you put some water on top of the poison and froze that too. That way, even if you held it upside down, the poison would not fall out and the glass would appear empty.”

“Correct.”

“The Orphan was fine on the first sip because the frozen poison had not yet thawed. When it did eventually thaw out, it mixed with the water, and she took a second sip. The poison was in the glass, not in the bowl of raisins. Therefore, the person who brought the glass was the culprit—you.”

“Indeed, Miss Gray Wolf. Your deduction is spot-on.” Gideon smiled. He sat back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. “The introduction I gave at the masquerade ball was true. My sister is being held captive by the King of the Underworld—your father, Marquis Albert de Blois. If I failed my mission, he would not return her safely. I found an article about my sister in a newspaper on the floor of the compartment. A missing Miss Legrant. When I saw that, I knew I couldn’t reveal my real name. Hence the weird introduction.”

“I see…”

“I received Marquis de Blois’ instructions onboard the Old Masquerade, in the communications room. I had to find and kill the passenger who had the memento box, and take it.”

“…”

“I had no idea that the enemy spy was just a girl, about the same age as my sister, so frightened by her pursuer. I didn’t consider that possibility. I always thought that the people I had to fight were adults. But she was the same as me, young.”

“…”

“I killed her. But I had to. To save my sister. I had no other choice!” Gideon cried. He stared at Victorique’s tiny face.

Victorique held his gaze. The white wisp of smoke from her pipe drifted straight to the ceiling, unwavering.

“But I have an attendant,” she said in her husky voice.

“The Vassal, yes.”

“My attendant is incredibly stupid. He doesn’t notice a spider crawling on his face, he’s tone-deaf, he’s an awful dancer, and a brute. But in my hour of need, he always comes to my rescue.”

“Yeah. He climbed out of the window and ran across the roof.”

“Yes.” Victorique nodded, wearing a sour look. Her chubby cheeks puffed up even more.

“I guess he’s the same as me. I would do anything for my sister. She’s my only family.”

“Ahuh. Kujou is willing to brave any danger to lend a helping hand. He doesn’t care about the risks. There’s a part of him that wants to protect those who are weaker than him. That may be the philosophy of the men of his country, a strangely-shaped island nation in the distant Orient seas. I think someone’s trying to turn him into that kind of man. And maybe he sees me, a friend he met in a distant land, as something extremely important that he should go to such lengths to help.”

“Hmm.”

“Kujou doesn’t consider his life important. But there is one more thing I believe about that man. Even if it were to save his own skin, even if it were to save me, he would never kill an innocent person.”

“…”

“Even an enemy spy who shared different goals. He would not kill a girl to save me. If I had to guess, he would rather die with me.”

“But—”

“Yes. On the battlefield, grown men would denounce it as ‘weakness’, something that would be recorded as a ‘wrong choice’ by future historians. But Kujou has this kind of ‘right weakness’ that I call virtuosity.”

“But…”

“He’s a weak and virtuous man. And the Gray Wolf admires him for that.”

“Did you tell him that?”

“H-How could I?!”

Victorique pulled her jaw back a little and cast her gaze down. But her expression was as cold as ever, with the haughty impassivity characteristic of aristocrats. Her green eyes gleamed like jewels.

A thin wisp of smoke wafted from her pipe.

The bustle of late afternoon rolled in through the window. Hooves clattered on the pavement. An accordionist was playing music. The sound of ladies’ conversation slowly passed by.

Gideon’s lips quivered faintly. “Do you think I was wrong, Gray Wolf?” He studied his palms, as though they were bloody. Tears welled up in his eyes, his lips trembling.

Victorique shook her head. “That is for you to decide. You wished only to save your sister, even if it meant getting your own hands dirty, even if it meant taking the lives of others. And you did it. I suppose that, too, could be called love. Something completely alien to me, but seems to be in everyone’s heart. The warmest, most precious, but most dangerous emotion of all. Invisible to the eye, but certainly exists.”

“But whether I was right or wrong, I would never be arrested. Because your father, Marquis de Blois—that is, the Ministry of the Occult—is behind this case. Soon I will be released. Hear that?”

Footsteps were approaching down the corridor. Victorique’s tiny, lovely ears twitched.

“Gideon,” Victorique said. “I solved the case, revealing you to be the murderer. But not because I wanted you arrested. I did it to remove my attendant from the list of suspects. So the police don’t falsely accuse him. Being an oriental student makes him an easy target for the adults of this country to pin the crime on him.”

“I see. So you also helped your friend. Not by running on the roof of a train, nor by shooting a gun, but by using your formidable intellect. But does your friend know that?”

“He doesn’t need to know. It’s just how friendships work.”

“Then I guess you’re aware of it.” Gideon chuckled.

“Aware of what?” Victorique groused.

“The warmest, most precious, but most dangerous emotion of all. Invisible, but it’s there. Love. What’s between me and my sister. What’s between you and that boy. It has to be love.”

“…”

“Your face is red.”

“No, it’s not. The albatross is here. You should be getting released soon.”

The door opened, and Inspector Blois entered.