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Winter Morning – Part 04

“Indeed.” Inspector Blois nodded. “After moving to the country house, Queen Coco earned the favor and sympathy of the people as the Blue Rose, a solitary and quiet woman, hiding madness deep inside. But back then there were first-hand accounts of her being spotted outside at night reveling in the pleasures of life. She wore fancy dresses and make-up, sprinkled cheap perfume all over her body, and danced and laughed with the men of the city. According to the tabloids, she had a magic stone given to her by Leviathan that made her invisible as long as she was holding it. It allowed her to leave her country house in the suburbs and sneak into the city. When gossip columnists realized that the woman was, in fact, the supposedly lovely and quiet queen, they followed her around, but she always disappeared around a corner or in a small room in a tavern. It was said that this, too, was thanks to the magical stone turning her invisible.”

“What a load of hogwash.”

“So the other version of the story is that the quiet queen danced and drank wine every night. To tell the truth, I don’t mind the rumors about the queen’s wilder side in her later years. A merry woman is nice. I like it better than the version where she was holed up in a gloomy house crying her eyes out.”

Victorique didn’t say anything. Silently, she looked out the window.

They were getting much closer to the city. The dead trees, ominous birds, and half-frozen rivers had disappeared, replaced by brick houses and snow-covered fields.

“Anyway, Queen Coco suddenly passed away… No, she was killed. Ten years ago—”

There was a roaring of an engine. A black car was closing in at an astonishing speed, then overtook the carriage.

Victorique, her elbow propped on the window, saw the driver’s fiery-red hair and the eerie Mechanical Turk in the backseat. Her breath caught in her throat.

“What’s wrong?” Inspector Blois asked. He couldn’t see what she saw from his position.

“It’s nothing.”

The wind sent the red-haired man’s shiny, black silk hat flying into the air. Spinning, it glided through the carriage window and landed softly on Victorique’s dress.

The engine roared once more, and the car drove off into the distance. Victorique blinked in surprise.

“What is that?” Inspector Blois asked wearily.

“Leave me alone, pinhead.”

“Stop calling me that!” He looked away.

Ignoring her brother, Victorique flipped the silk hat over. A white dove emerged from the hat, its round eyes darting around. Inspector Blois jumped. Kicking the suitcase, he brought his legs up onto the seat. The suitcase let out a faint squeal.

“What is that?!” he cried. “You’re doing magic tricks in a time of national crisis?! Why are you such a calm and snarky squirt?! Where did you get the hat? Where did the dove come from? Stop pointing its face at me! Put it back in the hat!”

“Grevil,” Victorique muttered curiously. “Are you afraid of birds?”

“I am! I mean, no! If my sister learns about a weakness of mine, I’ll be tortured for the rest of my life. S-Stop. Don’t put it on my head! Its feathers, eyes, small talons… they’re disgusting!”

“Weirdo.” Victorique stood up and stretched her arms out. “Oops. I let go of the dove by accident.”

“You dunce!”

The dove flew around the carriage, then perched quietly on Victorique’s hand. Inspector Blois had his back to her. He was clutching his head, trembling.

“Oh?”

Victorique noticed a letter tied to the dove’s leg. She unfastened it and rolled it open. The dove hovered and perched itself on the pink mini-hat adorning Victorique’s head.

The letter was short.

“If you discover a secret that will protect you, give it to this dove immediately.”

Victorique was silent for a while. Then she lifted her head, her sad gaze following the fading car.

“It’s my mother’s handwriting,” she murmured. “Similar to the one that carved the words on the cross at the Village of the Gray Wolves.”

“You should just devour that dove whole! You’re a Gray Wolf, aren’t you? I can still hear its wings. Are you planning to kill your brother?!”

“Kill you? With a dove? You’re such an idiot.”

Victorique tucked the letter away. She reached above her head, grabbed the dove, and held it in front of her.

For a while she remained silent. Like the lonely queen.

“I can still hear it!” Inspector Blois kicked the large suitcase again.

Another yelp came from within. The impact popped it open, revealing Ms. Cecile, wearing only a coat over her nightgown. Victorique let out a shocked grunt.

Ms. Cecile brought her forefinger to her lips. “Ssh! I came with you because I was worried,” she whispered.

Victorique’s previous adventures had been fraught with peril, but the uneasy look on Ms. Cecile’s face said that she sensed that there was something different this time.

“So you followed us in your nightgown,” Victorique said dubiously.

“I didn’t have time to change. So where are we?”

“We’re almost at Saubreme. It’s not safe, Cecile. The next storm… You should just stay in the suitcase if possible.” Her deep voice belied the faint anxiety on her face.

“I have to hide.” Ms. Cecile nodded gravely. She hid in the suitcase and closed it.

“Cecile…”

Victorique glanced at the dove in front of her, the suitcase with a person inside, and the trembling Inspector Blois.

She then closed her eyes, which were deep as the abyss, and lost herself in her thoughts.

Slowly, she tilted her head. “A dove from a silk hat. Cecile from a suitcase. What a weird morning,” she mumbled. “I wonder if these are ominous signs that something is going to pop out somewhere.” She stared out the window.

There were more stone towers and modern buildings now. They were almost at the capital Saubreme.

A winter wind blew into the city, carrying the same chill as it did in the woods, shaking the hats, scarves, and coats of passersby.

---

Meanwhile…

The garden of St. Marguerite Academy was like a white cake; everything was covered in snow—the statue of a goddess on the fountain, frozen like an ice sculpture, the iron benches, the gazebos that seemed like cake décor.

Kazuya was running through the garden, gasping for breath. Behind him was Avril, tottering with a pile of shopping boxes.

“Thanks for carrying my stuff!” she said cheerfully, staggering on her feet. “But where are you going in such a hurry? We were talking casually just now.”

Kazuya looked over his shoulder. “I gotta go to Saubreme!”

“What? Saubreme?” Avril looked puzzled. Then she noticed Kazuya’s shockingly pale face. “What’s wrong? You were just wondering why I was shopping so early in the morning. Wait, I get it. You’re going shopping in Saubreme. But it’s too far away.”

Kazuya stamped his feet restlessly on the snowy ground. “I’m not shopping. I, uhh… I don’t have time to explain. See you later!” He dashed away.

“What was that about?” Avril wondered. Realizing something, she clapped her hands. “I smell something fishy! He’s not going to a department store in Saubreme to buy chess costumes, is he? Sneaky little…”

Kazuya yelped as he almost fell on the snow.

“Hey, are you okay?” Avril said. “Did you slip?” She looked closer and saw Kazuya holding a chunk of snow—no, a large hare. “A rabbit? Why?” She was getting more and more puzzled. She pressed her forefinger on her cheek. “I’m completely lost.”

A chilly winter wind blew past.

---

Kazuya was running down the pathway with an ashen face, holding the letter that Ms. Cecile had tied to the rabbit’s ear.

“Victorique,” he mumbled. “Inspector Blois. A theater in Saubreme. And the next storm!”

Kazuya bit his lip. Something big is finally going down somewhere.

The bleak future that the chief of the Village of the Gray Wolves foretold slowly came back to him like a rising black smoke.

“You will not die together.”

“Your bodies are light. No matter how strong your feelings are, you are no match for the wind.”

“But worry not.”

“Your hearts will never be apart.”

He shuddered. As he headed toward the front gate, a state-of-the-art motorbike suddenly appeared from behind him, its engine revving. It was brand new, with a silver body and black tires.

Who’s driving it? Kazuya wondered.

The driver spotted Kazuya. “Hey, if it isn’t Kujou!” They squeezed the brakes, and the bike pitched forward, the rear tire rising dangerously high.

“Whoa!” Startled, Kazuya stopped in his tracks.

“Why are you running?” the driver asked.

“Hmm?”

“Oh, I see you made friends with the bunny. That’s great. Bye!”

To Kazuya’s surprise, the voice inside the helmet belonged to Sophie, the dorm mother. She had put on a coat over her kitchen apron, and a hand-knitted scarf was wrapped around her neck. She seemed to be in a hurry.

“Where are you going?” Kazuya asked. “And with such an awesome ride.”

Sophie gave a mischievous wink. “Saubreme.”

“S-Saubreme?!”

“Yes. To a theater called Phantom.”

“A theater?!”

“Yeah. I’ve been wanting to see the play ‘The Blue Rose of Saubreme’ for a long time, and they’re performing it again starting today. So I quickly grabbed my bike.”

“Please take me with you!” Kazuya cried.

“Uh, what?” Sophie looked puzzled at first. “Sure, I guess.”

Kazuya climbed up on the back of the motorbike, still holding the rabbit.

“Hold on tight,” Sophie said, and he nodded.

The motorbike dashed away, its engine roaring like a raging man. It meandered along the French-style garden’s pathway.

“Whoa!” Kazuya exclaimed. “I didn’t know you could ride a bike. That’s cool.”

“This is my first time riding one!”

“…What?”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. It’s fun, after all.”

“I, uhh… I highly doubt that…”

Ignoring Kazuya’s restlessness, the motorbike drove out the main gate of St. Marguerite Academy and raced down the same road that the steel carriage took, straight to Saubreme.

The roaring of the engine drowned out Kazuya’s screams.

The winter sun was beaming down on the snowy road.