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The Knight Serves the Little Princess – Part 05

In the lush conservatory atop the library tower, Kazuya, armed with a small knife, sampled various tropical fruits of different shapes and colors.

After taking a bite of a purplish red, star-shaped fruit, his face turned pale.

“This one is no good, Victorique. It’s very bitter and sour.”

“Hmph. Well done.”

“Well, I’m doing this for you. Oh, how about this one? A delicious-looking, pink triangular fruit…”

“Go ahead and give it a try, you foolish pumpkin-head knight.”

“Too far. Let me peel it, then.”

As Kazuya gently peeled the fruit with his small knife, he stole a glance at Victorique.

Her complexion had slightly improved since Kazuya’s arrival, and she no longer appeared sad. Her little feet, wrapped in rose boots, occasionally swung from side to side, or tapped along to a joyful rhythm.

“So, why did that strange painting explode?” Kazuya asked.

“It was a trap set by Brian Roscoe, most likely.”

“Hmm?”

Victorique yawned, seemingly bored. The crown of roses adorning her golden hair tilted slightly to the right. Kazuya reached out to readjust it, but Victorique swatted his hand away.

Undeterred, Kazuya shifted his attention back to the fruits. “So the explosion was intentional.”

“I can’t know the truth, because I doubt I will ever talk to Brian Roscoe about this. However, the fragments of chaos that have rained down on me in that stone tower over the years told me something. To stave off boredom, I toyed with said fragments and reconstructed them into scenes from the past.”

Victorique made an arrogant face and snorted dismissively. A gentle breeze blew, stirring her magnificent golden hair.

“After narrowing down the suspects in the abduction of my mother, Cordelia Gallo, from Phantom, Brian sent the same thing to their homes. It appeared to be a game of ‘spot the difference’, except one painting was set to explode when touched in a specific spot. It was probably easy for him, being an apprentice magician.”

“Where the purple handkerchief was. But why?”

“This is only my speculation, but when Cordelia was abducted in front of Brian, she was likely holding a purple handkerchief. Its vivid color would have stood out even in the dark.”

Victorique glanced at the purple ring on her right finger, the ring that Cordelia entrusted to Kazuya in Beelzebub’s Skull. A small gem symbolizing the bond between the mother wolf and the cub. Like the North Star shining in the darkness, it became Victorique’s guiding light.

Kazuya observed her curiously. A sweet breeze blew gently.

“So, the only ones who know about it are…”

“Exactly.” Victorique nodded. “Only those present at the scene, those who witnessed Cordelia being abducted, saw the purple handkerchief. The others who received the paintings didn’t bother touching that peculiar spot. Only Marquis de Blois reached out to it, as if captivated. When the painting exploded, a fragment of its frame pierced his right eye. Since then, the vision in his right eye drastically deteriorated, and he started wearing a monocle.”

“Oh, so that’s what happened,” Kazuya said.

He finished peeling the pink fruit and tasted it. Satisfied, he handed it to Victorique. Victorique accepted it without a second thought.

“It’s sweet,” she said.

“Right?” Kazuya said proudly, chuckling.

“Hmph.”

“But what happened after that? You and Cordelia were still in the stone tower at that time. What did Brian do then?”

“Well…” Victorique resumed the story.

On a large branch above their heads, several golden birds perched, observing the close-knit children.

The wind whispered gently, and the small tails of the little birds swayed like delicate leaves.

---

“You there! Stop dawdling and help out!”

“Y-Yes, sir!”

A manservant slapped the maid’s behind hard, causing her to jump. As the doctor arrived in a carriage and was being escorted to the hall, there was commotion following the Marquis’s instructions to bring something down from the stone tower.

Since living here to work, there hadn’t been a day as chaotic as this one. While it certainly seemed like something was happening up in the tower, the rest of the castle had always been quiet.

The only ones peacefully passing the time amidst all the commotion were the elegant and frail Marquess and her young son, Grevil. The servants, on the other hand, were running around in a frenzy.

Reprimanded by the manservants, the maid lifted her skirt and apron and climbed the tower, up the never-ending spiral stone staircase. Square windows along the way offered views of the vast forest and the shrinking world below.

“You certainly have the stamina of youth,” said one of the servants, gasping for breath. “You were the right choice.”

The group finally reached the small room at the very top, a chamber resembling a square box made of stone. It was cold and desolate, lacking any form of heating.

In the center of the room was a crude straw bed that looked like the one the maid used when she was a child. An emaciated woman, her arms bound tightly by a thick rope, was lying on the bed.

The maid’s breath seized in her throat.

Long, golden hair!

Framing her eyelids were long and beautiful lashes, reminiscent of a doll. Though she had a petite frame, her breathtaking beauty filled the entire chamber. She seemed to glow, as though stars falling from the night sky had been trapped inside.

This was the woman the red-haired man had been searching for, the same woman depicted in the exploding painting. He called her Cordelia.

Beside her was a small cradle, where a baby with golden curls, bearing a striking resemblance to the woman, was sleeping.

Did the woman give birth here? In this cold room made of stone?

She must have given birth on Christmas night. Back when the maid boiled an endless supply of water, which was then brought to the tower.

The maid, dumbfounded, was ordered by the manservants to change the woman’s clothes. Trembling, she approached the woman, who was covered in dirt and grime yet still unbelievably beautiful. As she reached out her hand, the woman’s eyes suddenly snapped open.

Eerie green eyes pierced through the girl’s chest.

“Ahh!”

In an instant, the enigmatic woman sprang up with an otherworldly swiftness and sank her teeth into the maid’s wrist. The girl shrieked as her powerful jaw and teeth ground against bone.

“She’s going wild again!” the manservants shouted.

There was no surprise in their voices—as if this were a regular occurrence—only disgust and suppressed rage.

Following that, the woman lowered her head and placed both hands on the straw bed, crouching like a beast about to take flight.

Then, with a tremendous leap, she soared into the air, aiming for the maid’s throat. The woman’s body contracted and expanded. Her graceful movements captivated the maid; she was reminded of the small and fierce animals in the woods she was all-too-familiar with.

Suddenly the woman fell onto the bed with a loud thud. The ropes binding her arms had pulled her down. The maid finally understood why the ropes were so thick for a lady so small.

Noticing the blood dripping from her wrist, the maid pressed her hand against the wound, her face turning pale.

“Don’t worry. She doesn’t have any contagious disease,” one servant said. “We’ve all been bitten multiple times too.”

“Wh-What is wrong with her?”

“It’s not an illness. She’s just a wolf by nature. You’ve heard of them, haven’t you? She’s a descendant of the silent Gray Wolves that supposedly lived deep in the forests of Eastern Europe during the Middle Ages. A mere shadow of their former selves. Over time, their mysterious power has significantly weakened.”

They looked at the sleeping baby with a sense of unease.

“At any rate, the cub was safely delivered. This female wolf is no longer needed. According to the Marquis, she’s a criminal who killed the village chief or something in the village where she was from, and was banished.”

“A criminal… wolf…”

“Because of the prank with the painting earlier, the Marquis ordered us to immediately transport the female wolf away from here. Let’s go. Forget about changing her clothes.”

The woman was wrapped in the dirty cotton sheet that covered the straw bed. Surprisingly, three huge brawny servants carried the woman, but they couldn’t stop her from growling like a beast and flailing about, knocking the men over, sending them rolling down the stone stairs.

The adorable baby, with curly golden hair and long eyelashes, was sleeping peacefully, unaware of what was happening. The maid cautiously peered at their face.

A descendant of the Gray Wolves… a dangerous baby… But from what I can see, it doesn’t look any different from when my brothers and sisters were born. It looks like a human child.

A gust of wind blew, somber and unsettling, stirring the heavy skirt of the girl.

And on that night.

Someone infiltrated the stone tower, causing a commotion in the castle in the middle of the night. Manservants carrying torches searched the castle, and guards surrounded the whole place.

The maid and her fellow coworker woke up and ventured out into the hallway, only to be scolded by the head maid. Exchanging looks, they decided to still sneak out. And then the sorrowful and bitter howl of a beast resounded, from inside the castle, or out in the forest.

“It’s a wolf,” the maid’s companion muttered fearfully.

“Really?”

“In our village, they often appear in spring. It’s a wolf’s howl. But it sounds so sad. It must have lost its pack. I’ve never heard such a sad sound before.”

Terrified, they returned to their bedroom. Still curious, however, the maid looked out the window. She thought she saw something racing through the darkness, red hair stirring like a mane.

The next morning, she learned that the intruder had left, and peace had returned.

As for the maid, she was appointed as one of the caretakers for the mysterious baby left behind by its mother. Thus, every night, filled with fear, she climbed the stone tower carrying various things.

However, that is a story for another time…