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The Black Bishop Prays – Part 04

“…Victorique?” Kazuya asked, blinking.

Strolling leisurely, they had just set foot into the flowerbed maze. In autumn, this bed bloomed with vibrant colors, resembling a colossal maze within the body of a flower-devouring creature. But now, covered in a pristine layer of snow, it shimmered uniformly as though coated with pure-white fresh cream.

The moment they ventured into the flowerbed, the air grew colder, and their breaths came out in white puffs.

Leading Victorique by the hand, Kazuya said, “Sounds like the case was solved in no time at all, before Ian and Evan held hands. It’s a good thing, of course.”

“No, there’s more,” Victorique murmured in a hushed tone.

“Really?”

“Yes.” She let out a yawn. “Although the businessman’s son was safely rescued, my brother couldn’t find the kidnapper.”

“What? Shouldn’t the son have seen the culprit?”

“Indeed. As it turns out, there was someone unexpected lurking beneath.”

“Wh-Who?”

“The son himself.”

Taken aback, Kazuya fell silent. The pure white flowerbed seemed to swallow them whole. A path formed before them, and vanished behind, as they were consumed by the colossal body of a snowy beast.

Birds chirped, wondering where the pair had disappeared to.

Like two solitary wanderers drifting away from this world, Kazuya and Victorique slowly ventured deeper into the maze. The wind gusted, ominously rustling the bare branches.

The businessman’s son had been snatched away while he was sleeping peacefully at the inn. Carried along the snowy path, he was brought to a deserted church, where he was bound with ropes and hidden behind the altar. Though he received food and water twice a day, his strength dwindled with each passing moment.

Inspector Blois attentively listened to the son’s recollection. The memories of his abduction remained hazy. And while it was found that he was being held in the church, the boy stubbornly insisted that he was out in the open fields.

But it was the dead of winter. If he had truly been left outside, he would have succumbed to the cold within hours.

Feverish and delirious, the young boy adamantly declared that the secretary and the tutor were not the culprit, that they were kind people. He had grown fond of those who took care of his daily needs in place of his busy father. Initially, the inspector suspected a calculated attempt to shield the true wrongdoers, but the son repeated that he was really outside.

“There were two ladies,” the boy explained. “One was wearing red clothes, and the other, she was wearing white, with these huge wings on her back. They were talking the whole time. Like, real serious. Nope, it wasn’t them. They were strangers… A white person with wings, and a kind-hearted red lady.”

The inspector considered the possibility of it being the figment of the boy’s imagination.

But the boy pressed on, “Sometimes, this person with long hair would show up. They gave me food and drinks… What? I dunno if their hair was all blonde. ‘Cause I was outside, and when their hair swayed in the wind, it covered up their face. It was hard for me to see what they looked like.”

This revelation plunged the inspector into deeper confusion. Was this the same individual the tutor claimed to have seen—a stylish man with long blond hair? There shouldn’t have been anyone fitting that description in the village. Were neither the secretary nor the tutor responsible for the crime? If the boy wasn’t in the church all this time, then where had he been? What did he mean by the “open fields”? And who were the white person and the red person?

Inspector Blois found himself at a loss.

Nevertheless, he resolved to crack the case, regardless of the challenges.

And so after much hesitation, he reluctantly decided to make a devil’s bargain with his fearsome sister.

Inspector Blois trudged through the snowfall toward St. Marguerite Academy. He despised the thought of heading there, but there was no other choice.

“So, what happened next?” Kazuya leaned forward.

They strolled through the flowerbed maze, now transformed into a silvery wonderland, until they reached a small candy house with a triangular roof. The charming structure too had been completely blanketed in a pristine white, reminiscent of a dollop of whipped cream. As Kazuya grasped the icy-cold doorknob, a shiver ran down his spine. He carefully opened the door, allowing Victorique to enter the house.

Once inside, he closed the door and positioned himself near the ground-floor window, waiting patiently.

Before long, Victorique emerged from inside. She trotted to the emerald table and the toy-like pink chair, then plopped herself down. A flower-shaped cookie peered out from the corner of her plump lips.

Then, she rose from the chair. Standing on tiptoe, she cracked the window open just a tad.

Kazuya, standing stiffly upright outside, said, “I wasn’t really waiting.”

“Hmph.”

“Also, I’m not feeling cold at all. I’m perfectly fine.”

“I seem to have lost track of our conversation.”

“Inspector Blois was wondering if there was a different kidnapper, and he came all the way to St. Marguerite Academy to strike a deal with the devil.”

“Ah.” Victorique nodded, her body curling up in the pink chair like a kitten. “However, the kidnapper turned out to be the tutor.”

“Wait, really? So the boy was lying to protect her. He grew fond of her and didn’t want her to get arrested.”

“Not exactly. The boy wasn’t lying.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Hmph! Elementary,” Victorique scoffed. Her green eyes shimmered enchantingly. “I gather fragments of chaos that descend from every corner of this world and piece them together out of sheer boredom. And in doing so, the truth unveils itself like a painting. That’s all there is to it. And then, ennui and monotony envelops the world once more.”

The easy chair squeaked. The bright flames dancing in the small fireplace flickered in Victorique’s eyes. It was as if the icy fires of desolation, burning only at the edge of the world, enveloped her.

Kazuya swallowed, mesmerized by Victorique’s countenance.

Though they frequently saw each other, he couldn’t help but find his cherished friend eternally enigmatic.