“Liliya, what did you do this afternoon?”
During dinner, Rosalia had Liliya sit beside her, but unlike before, she didn’t pull her into her embrace.
There wasn’t much of a height difference between the two—Rosalia was only a little taller than Liliya. If Rosalia held Liliya in her arms, it would obstruct her view.
Last time, however, Liliya had been unwell, and Rosalia had wanted to strengthen her connection with Liliya, so she’d acted that way.
But now, with Liliya…
Rosalia felt she could slow down a little and ease back on the physical contact.
“Nothing much.”
As Liliya recalled what had happened that afternoon, cold sweat rose along her back. Even though the sensation had long faded, just remembering it made her feel a sharp sting.
Fortunately, all of it had meaning. She’d already found a clue to regaining her memories; all she needed to do was go to the basement on the first floor.
When Rosalia introduced the castle before, she hadn’t mentioned the basement at all.
Liliya hadn’t paid it much mind.
Castles like Rosalia’s usually had basements. Basements were typically used as storage rooms or wine cellars to keep various things. Although Liliya was a pet, she had no reason to interact with any of that.
In fact… judging from the strange knowledge Liliya possessed, Rosalia’s castle basement could even be a dungeon for holding criminals.
Castles always served some military function to begin with.
“I was just too tired, so I took a nap.”
Liliya had no intention of mentioning her afternoon activities. If it turned out that her trip to the basement amounted to nothing, it would only raise Rosalia’s hopes for nothing.
“Is that so?”
Rosalia stared at Liliya for a long time, her gaze growing sharp, as if she could peel away Liliya’s outer layers and see her thoughts beneath.
But after a long while, Rosalia saw nothing unusual and simply smiled gently. “If you feel uncomfortable at all, you must tell me, all right?”
“Mm.”
Liliya answered softly.
***
After dinner, Rosalia and Liliya spent some time together in the study. When it was finally time for bed, Rosalia sent Liliya back to her own room and did not linger. She returned directly to her own quarters.
Liliya had no idea these small changes were happening. She’d only been in the castle for two days, and the first night she had fallen asleep almost immediately.
During dinner, she’d found the sword spirit’s voice in her mind had grown clearer—and more urgent.
The sword spirit seemed to know that its connection with Liliya had been reestablished, and kept pouring its thoughts out, urging her to hurry to the basement and to keep it secret from Rosalia.
Liliya didn’t know why the sword spirit wanted her to hide this from Rosalia. But since this was something she wanted to do anyway, she didn’t resist at all.
She waited in her room for a long time. When night fell and the clock on the wall crept toward midnight, she finally got up, barefoot, and quietly pushed open her bedroom door.
Unlike the daytime, when she could always see busy maids everywhere, the castle at night was silent as death.
The Gothic style made it all the more gloomy; under the cold moonlight, everything took on a strange, indescribable sense of oppression.
As she passed by Rosalia’s room, Liliya held her breath and listened carefully for any sound from inside.
Only after confirming there was none did she hurry past, quickly making her way from the fourth floor down to the first.
Once on the first floor, she followed the voice’s guidance in her mind to a corner she’d overlooked during the day and pushed open a door that hadn’t been fully closed.
She hesitated, glanced at her tender little feet, and regretted not putting on slippers. But this regret only lingered for a moment before she tossed it aside and stepped into the shadowy passage.
Perhaps because Rosalia had turned her into a bloodkin, Liliya found she could still see perfectly well in the dim corridor.
Her golden eyes glowed faintly, and everything appeared in shades of black, white, and gray, letting her see every detail with clarity.
Just as she’d imagined, this place was used as a storage area, but as she went deeper, the surroundings began to change.
The wide space narrowed; on all sides were tightly locked rooms, and through the openings in the wooden doors she could see pale instruments of torture—manacles, crucifix posts, balls with holes of all sizes, and all manner of sharp objects.
Liliya’s pupils shrank abruptly, startled by the sight. But to her surprise, after that initial shock, she quickly calmed down. It seemed she wasn’t as afraid of these things as she’d thought.
Almost as if she had seen them many times before.
She let her thoughts drift, following the sword spirit’s guidance, until she reached the last cell.
The lock on the cell seemed to have been broken from the inside; Liliya easily pushed open the door.
The interior was much like the others, but it was noticeably cleaner than the dust-choked cells nearby, as if someone had used it not long ago.
There were no prisoners here. Only a sword lay inside, surrounded by some broken chains.
Silvery-white, about 1.2 meters long, with the distinctive star insignia on its guard.
White.
The sword from her memories.
“Master.” The sword spirit called out to Liliya again. “Hold me, and then think about what Rosalia did to you.”
For some reason, when Liliya heard the sword spirit’s words, her first reaction was resistance.
She’d come here for the sword in the first place.
If she just grasped it, she could solve her amnesia.
So why was she so resistant?
“Master.”
The sword spirit’s voice came again. Liliya pressed her lips together and, finally gritting her teeth, reached for the sword.
The instant her fingertips touched the hilt, those slumbering memories were awakened.
She remembered the hazy figure she’d seen before.
That was…
Rosalia.
She instinctively let go and took a step back, unable to believe what she had recalled.
It shouldn’t be like this…
Her breath grew rapid again, a metallic tang spreading through her body, gathering in her mind to fight against the memories pouring in.
But along with them, something else she couldn’t understand surged from the hilt.
Her mind gradually went numb, her eyes became dull, and all the emotion swirling in her mind seemed to be erased like chalk from a board, leaving emptiness.
No need to think, no need to do anything.
She was just a sword of the Church.
Her final task was to kill Rosalia.
Step by step, she advanced toward the first floor.
She could not defeat Rosalia.
The only way was to use the self-destruction spell soon and perish together.
She pushed open the basement door, gripped the sword tightly, and headed back toward the fourth floor.
“Splurt.”
She looked down at her chest, where a hole had opened up again.
There, her heart was tightly held in a cold, pale hand. And what should have been a crimson heart was now covered in filth, enough to make one retch.
“Naughty little pet. I never thought you’d remember things so quickly.”
With her heart gripped, Liliya could do nothing. She stood frozen like a doll whose spring had wound down.
“But before that, I have to deal with this sword.”
Rosalia pressed close against Liliya’s back; her icy body felt a touch of warmth. She reached past Liliya’s waist to her right hand, gently took the silvery-white sword from Liliya’s grip, and held it herself.
“Disobedient sword spirit. I’d thought, since you’re Liliya’s companion, I could let you slowly become what I wanted. But now—”
Rosalia’s gaze grew colder than ever. The shadows around her twisted and writhed in chaos, then suddenly rushed toward the silvery-white sword.
The blade.
The sword shuddered, black cracks spreading at visible speed across its length. With one final tremor, it shattered into countless tiny fragments.
“Let’s just destroy it.”
All the fragments vanished swiftly into Rosalia’s shadow, wrapped in darkness.
“As for Liliya…”
She looked at Liliya with cold eyes, tapping her heart lightly with a fingertip.
“A bit of punishment is needed.”
“Crack.”
Her heart shattered.