The carriage to the West Villa was silent. G6 stared out the window, her mind a locked vault of calculation. Tina and Lilia didn't dare speak, assuming her silence was due to the earlier balcony tension.
That damn kid. Another weight to watch.
Her thoughts turned to the pending mysteries she needed to unravel first—data to ease her troubled mind.
"Tina."
"Yes, Lady Reise?"
"We'll talk later." G6's eyes remained fixed on the passing scenery.
The invitation made Tina's face light up. "Absolutely, yes." Lilia smiled.
G6 didn't answer further, her mind cycling through analysis.
Okay. I'll stop shrugging this off. I'll start investigating her.
The carriage stopped in the villa's front yard. Tina and Lilia stepped out first, followed by G6. As she descended, she saw Leo waiting at the entrance. Their gazes met—a conversation in a stare.
"Tina, Lilia. Wait here. I'm going to see the Queen." G6.
"Do you not need company?" Tina.
"I'll manage." G6 walked toward Leo.
"Then we'll be waiting." The maids curtseyed.
G6 merely glanced at them before walking ahead, Leo following. They circled the villa, avoiding the usual shortcut.
"Is she already there?" G6.
"Yes. We arrived not long ago." Leo.
G6 fell silent. This wasn't a meeting; it was a confrontation between chess masters. Their walk was a study in silence, the weight of the coming conversation palpable.
They arrived at the Queen's private chambers. Ornate doors like a gilded cage gateway. G6 paused a heartbeat, expression a mask of cold resolve, then stepped inside.
She didn't wait for formality. She shoved the office door open with force.
The Queen didn't flinch. She sat quietly behind her desk.
"You are too heated, Reise." The Queen.
"Cut the games." G6's voice is low, dangerous.
"Leo, wait outside." Leo left, closing the door.
As it shut, G6 strode to stand directly in front of the desk.
"You knew, didn't you? From the start."
"Well, I had suspicions. I knew Edmund leaves every day after lunch." The Queen's tone is deceptively light.
G6's eyes were planted on her, sharp enough to steal breath.
"But that's all. I merely instructed Leo to log Edmund's comings and goings at the Main Palace gate."
"Tell me more."
"Listen, Reise. I didn't hire anyone to tail you. You could have kept your double life secret, if not for Edmund's carelessness." She laid the parchment on the desk. Their aliases are exposed.
"Edmund and Alistair are the only Saiden in this Kingdom. 'Eddie Saiden'? Digging his own grave. Do you have any idea how scandalous it would be if his other persona were revealed?"
"I don't care about your concern. Tell me what the fuck you want."
"So you won't even hear my genuine concern? Do you truly believe everything is a transaction?" The Queen's voice rose, matching G6's heat.
"Then why take the parchment if you didn't know it was us?"
"I saw the color drain from Edmund's face! Your ridiculous attire—you hate suffocating clothes, yet you showed up in that heavy coat and gloves. As far as I know, the last time you were here, your dress had a slit right up to your rump. Do you think I'm stupid? I know your capabilities. I'm the one who arranged your guild status so you could walk freely!" The Queen's composure cracked.
"So? You want me indebted for saving our asses? I could get out of that trouble. I'd push all blame onto Edmund, watch him get scorned. And I wouldn't care." G6's voice is flat, devoid of emotion.
The Queen's eyes widened, genuine shock breaking her regal mask. Speechless. The cold, transactional cruelty is more revealing than any confession.
"You would… throw him to the wolves so easily? Your most loyal shadow?" A hushed, horrified whisper. "A man who willingly put his head on the guillotine to help you out?"
The Queen's response to her forced lies made G6 swell with rage. Of course she knew how far Edmund would go. Acutely aware of his dedication, his meticulous alibis to grant her liberty.
Of course she would never rat him out. G6 moral may be a color of grey, but she was coded, branded. A Gemcardia.
"I told you already…" G6's voice lowered, trembling with suppressed emotion. "That you wouldn't like to imagine the measures I'm willing to take, the obstacles I'm willing to erase to get what I want."
The Queen stood, walked towards her. "Then, tell me. What exactly do you want?"
The question hung heavily. G6's eyes flickered, a defiant mask faltering a split second.
What is it that I really want? What's the exact reason I'm even in this mess?
Right. What I want… the truth. To end this fucking cycle of mysteries. To really be able to proceed.
Was the reason things kept falling out because I didn't really know what I was here for? Was I going the wrong direction because I moved hastily? Was I… in a complete mess trying to run away from the reality that I'm no longer just G6 but a noblewoman in this gilded cage?
As had been shown many times, G6 couldn't recognize genuine concern she hadn't manufactured. Oblivious to natural human emotion.
"What I want is none of your concern. Stop acting like a concerned mother. I know people like you. The way you speak, the way you pause… the way you looked at me in that meeting room…" G6 stepped closer, invading space. "I know your mind is running through a dozen ways to use me. You see right through me. And I know I'm nothing but a tool."
The Queen remained silent, observing a G6 not her usual, controlled self. Losing composure.
"My concern is genuine. I have no need to use you as a tool. You are the daughter of—" The Queen was cut off as G6 shattered a glass window with a sharp, compressed Wind Blade.
"I told you to stop playing games." Voice flat, deadly.
The Queen stepped back, shaken. She reached into her desk, pulled out the book on Cryomancy, opened to a marked page.
"Do you remember when I said Cryomancy could only be obtained through death and rebirth?" G6 silent. "I accounted for your attempt with White Drop and revival. I thought, 'That must be why this ancient affinity landed on her.'"
Her gaze was intense. "Yet, I read the other requirement. I've been trying to dismiss it, mark it as an overstatement." Pause, voice dropping. "'Only one who kills can wield.'"
G6's brows furrowed.
What… What's that supposed to mean?
The Queen's next words deliberate, after a steadying breath. "You are not Reise anymore, are you?"
The question struck like a physical blow. Figured out. Greatest adversary, the Queen herself.
G6 silent for a long moment. Then—an expression of extreme sadness, as if the question struck something profoundly painful.
"You're right… I am not Reise anymore… I'm not what I used to be." Voice, once laced with anger, now weakened.
She sat, looking at the ornate center table. "When I thought I was going to die from the poison… I had a ridiculous dream. A haven, completely different from life here." A hint of nostalgia.
For her, previous life was everything. Never contempt, never guilt. Proud.
Her gaze fixed on the table, voice distant, recounting memory from a thousand years ago. "In that dream, I had a purpose. A real one. Not this… noble performance. I was a tool, yes, but a perfect one. Sharp. Honed for a single, beautiful objective." A faint, reverent smile. "I was taught the world is a system of cause and effect. Every problem has a solution. And some solutions… are permanent."
She looked up, grey eyes clear, chillingly calm. "I learned a single, precise cut could prevent a war. That eliminating one loud, greedy voice could save a thousand silent ones. No good. No evil. Only order and chaos. My purpose was to impose order. Not a hero. Not a villain. I was… a conclusion."
Voice softened, laced with genuine, heartbreaking longing. "It was simple. Clean. Real. So much stronger than she was."
Leaned forward, intent clear, ensuring the Queen understood literal truth woven into metaphor. "The Reise you knew, fragile, trapped in this cage… she stepped into that dark poison and found my world waiting. But she couldn't carry its weight. That dream didn't just change her; it was a vast, cold ocean, and she drowned. She sank, and I am what was left floating. I am the dream that consumed the dreamer."
Leaned back, momentary vulnerability vanishing behind cold finality. "So you see, you got your death and rebirth. The girl you betrothed to your son is gone, swallowed whole by a life she couldn't handle. You're left with me. And I am the consequence of her despair."
As G6 spoke, a chilling understanding settled in the Queen's mind, colder than any Cryomancy.
So that's the truth. The Queen's thoughts.
Not a new persona, but the old one utterly unmade. The gentle girl hadn't vanished; she had been shattered and reforged in the crucible of that dream. The poison didn't kill her body—it murdered the person she was. What woke up wasn't a stranger, but Reise herself: hollowed out and filled with a terrifying new purpose. Not possessed. Transformed. Her core remained, but every instinct was now twisted toward that brutal dreamscape.
The ancient text echoed in her memory: 'Only one who kills can wield.'
Gods above. It was never a metaphor. The affinity didn't just require a brush with death. It wakes the killer born within her during that delirium—a soul for whom killing is not a sin, but a function. A 'conclusion.' The dream she described… was a vision of her own potential for violence.
And she craved to make it real.
A shiver ran down the Queen's spine. The woman before her wasn't an imposter. She was Reise Worthon, fully awakened to her most terrifying self, and starving for the hunt.
Slowly, deliberately, the Queen moved. She circled her desk and sat in the chair across from G6, closing the distance. Leaning forward, her expression showed not fear, but an intense, careful focus.
"That dream…" Her voice was low and measured. "That feeling of purpose, clarity… If given a chance to grasp it again, to feel that reality in this world… would you take it?"
A slow, chilling smile spread across G6's lips. What a foolish old woman. She actually bought that.
"I already grasp it," she said, her voice a soft, sinister purr. "The warm blood of that new-type demon felt like slaughtering a giant pig." She smirked.
The Queen studied her cold knot tightening. "So, it was you."
"If I'd known it would be evidence, I'd have convinced Edmund to bring its head as a trophy. Pft." She replied. A scoff of genuine disappointment.
This sick child. What kind of dream did you have that turned you into such a psychopath? Queen's thoughts. Revulsion washing over her.
"Very well. I can see if I tried to cage you completely, every window in my chamber would be shattered."
"You're not truly serious about sacrificing Edmund, are you?" The Queen asked. G6's gaze locked, seeming to look through to her soul.
"Do not dare use Edmund against me. You will not like my bad side." Deadly serious.
The Queen let out a low, humorless laugh. "I surmised as much, even before understanding the depth of this… fierceness." Leaned back slightly. "But Edmund will eventually be in danger if you continue this recklessness. Let's make a deal, Reise."
"And yet you claimed this wasn't a transaction." Mockery dripping.
"After hearing your story, I know you can't be stopped. As one of the few who knows your capabilities, what you're hiding, I will formally enter this conspiracy." G6 crossed arms, intrigue piqued.
"Listen, Reise. I'm betting the Royal Family's reputation. In exchange for maintaining your double life, protecting Edmund, you report any and all abnormalities on your… excursions."
The deal was music. Exactly what she wanted—to make the Queen dependent, complicit.
I got you.
"Is that all?"
"For now."
"Then I have a proposal. Three full days at the Collegium, three full days at the 'Utility Magic Department'." Finally bringing pending demand to surface.
"Proposing three consecutive days outside?"
"Not a bad deal. Gives us time, benefits you. Take it or leave it." G6.
"Prince Dio will be a pain, questioning this change." Worried about her son's reaction.
"That's your problem." G6.
The Queen silent a long moment, looking at G6, no sign of budging. "Promise me a few things."
"I don't make promises."
"Then consider these orders. Do not come back covered in bruises. Take care of yourself. Do not do anything recklessly stupid. Return before the palace's last bell. And, most importantly, stay alive." Commands layered with out-of-place concern.
"If that's all, I'll do my best to adhere to your… suggestions." G6.
"Do you believe what I told you?" G6 asked abruptly.
The Queen offered a faint, weary smile. "That's the only way these changes make sense."
"I see. If there's nothing else, I'm leaving." G6 stood, but the Queen's voice stopped her.
"Not finished. Now our conflict is resolved, deal sealed, I have a right to know what's happening beyond my capital, don't I?"
G6 smirked, sank back into the chair, sinister amusement. "At least offer tea."
The Queen retrieved waiting tea, placed on the center table.
Then, G6 began her story. The horde of goblins formed like a military unit. Discovering the newly emerged dungeon. Fight against the new-type demon. Details withheld from Guild: demon wielded Wind and Earth; dead forest; source of mana dampening—black paper inscribed with language of high-ranking demons.
The Queen's face turned to horror. "What… This is far more extreme! Reise… how certain the natural mana was gone? That's impossible. Nature is mana."
"My body can tell if there's mana. Probably something to do with my immeasurable mana."
"That… makes sense. But a new-type using elemental affinities? Another absurdity—dangerous new threat! We must take this utmost seriousness." Voice urgent. "And the Charnel tongue… certain?"
"Edmund stayed up late investigating. Confirmed, but failed to decipher."
"Your blood deactivated the spell? Where is it now? Why your blood? What is… happening?" Composure fractured, words faster, rising panic. "No reports from northwest expeditions… no indication of breach…"
Before G6 could answer, Leo opened the door. Before speaking or questioning the shattered window, his gaze fell on damage.
"Forgive interference, Your Majesty, but the King requests your attendance immediately. Urgent matters require Head Pillars and Courts." Holding elegant paper with a royal seal.
"Very well. I'll come." Turned to G6. "Reise, we'll continue another time."
"You're the boss." Added, "Can I have that book?" Referring to an old Cryomancy book.
"It's the original text. Very well, may help. But do not attempt to use it yet. No word from my master; he must be occupied." Standing, walking to the desk, retrieving a book, handed to G6.
"Keep our deal. Remember my orders."
With a heavy tome in grasp and a web of dangerous secrets shared, G6 watched the Queen depart. The game escalated, the board expanded. She held a new piece—a key to understanding icy power within. For now, an immediate storm passed, but clouds promised greater tempest.
❈.❈.❈
G6 walked back to her villa alone. The sky bled orange at the edges, the day ending, soon to be replaced by darkness.
She took their usual route through the Annex-Unus. The annex was silent, eerily so, as if the servants had been spirited away. The interior grew dim, and in her all-black attire, she was a shadow among shadows.
As she strode up the stairs toward the open bridge connecting to her quarters, a terrifying smile spread across her face, her arms tightening around the book.
Who would have thought I'd be the one pulling the strings?
A low, mocking laugh escaped her. "How pathetically easy. Two birds with one stone. Secured my three-day liberty and the manual." She smirked into the gloom. "Got the original edition, with the Queen dancing in my palm."
Reaching the second floor, she scanned the sterile hall. Is it because only men live here? So bland.
She continued her stride. Turning onto the open bridge, she saw a figure leaning against the railings.
What's that geek doing here? It's too early for him to be back.
She didn't speak, simply halted. When Earl turned toward the sound, his whole body jolted—not just his face startled. Who wouldn't? A spectre in black, standing silently in the dark.
What the hell is he scared of?
G6 continued walking until the fading sunlight finally caught her. Earl cleared his throat, his eyes falling to the book she carried.
"Why are you back so early, geek?" she asked, as if she hadn't threatened to maim him hours before.
Earl gathered himself, adjusting his glasses. "I was not in the mood to work. I excused myself."
"Ah. Whatever." She made to move past him.
"Reise, wait." His voice was uncharacteristically strained. "Please, forgive my actions on the balcony. It was unpardonable."
She stopped, turned. The movement was fluid, her expression flat. "It was nothing. I'm not angry. Forget it."
"Truly?" A flicker of life returned to his demeanor.
"Now you're pissing me off. I despise people who crave affirmation." Annoyance, sharp and familiar.
"Then I will take you at your word." He sounded relieved.
"I'm going." She took a step.
"Might we talk longer? If you are not in a hurry."
"About what?"
"Anything. Or… about that book." His gaze lingered on the tome.
Words of wisdom? Give me a break. I'll gut you. Her face remained impassive. "What about it?"
"I was the one who issued that book to Her Majesty. For her to give it to you without formal documentation… She must really adore you." His tone was measured, scholarly, but his eyes were keen.
What's with his tone? Don't tell me is he trying to pry too?
"Fine. Let's talk."
"My study, then?" She nodded.
✎﹏﹏﹏
He led her back into the Annex-Unus, to a room with twin ornate doors. Inside was a space befitting the heir of a Pillar: elegant, spacious, wider than her own chambers. A study area lay before her, besieged by towers of paperwork beside a heavy desk. Shelves groaned with books; a long table displayed various artifacts.
"You're a geek even in your den," she remarked, settling onto a couch.
"It is the field in which I am most proficient," he said from a small counter as he prepared tea.
"You're also proficient at fighting. I hate that I've only beaten you once." G6 said, feeding his ego.
Earl's back was to her, but she saw his shoulders relax. It was the first acknowledgment he'd ever received of that skill. He brought the tea tray over, setting it down.
"I also bested you once. And I know you were restraining your true capability."
"Who knows?" She still clutched the book. "So. What's your theory about me?" She fixed him with the same soul-piercing stare she'd used on the Queen.
He took a deliberate sip of tea before meeting her gaze. "You cast spells without chants. Your mana is so profuse it requires active suppression. You adapt to new skills at an impossible rate. You are… too potent for the vessel you inhabit." G6 said nothing. "We have a long history, but the three years of our separation are a blank page. This much is clear: you have changed. And the Queen is aware of it."
"I found it peculiar when she requested that book from the archives—the original, which should never leave its vault. Yet she handed it to you without a single formality. She issued your Professional Card without Guild oversight. She is risking her own credibility to shield you." He leaned forward slightly. "What I am trying to say, in my roundabout way, is this: do not act carelessly. Do not draw attention. If the Queen goes to such lengths, the truth you hide must be the kind that would throw you to wolves."
So, he yelled earlier because I shot that man in the eye of everyone because if anyone here understands the extent of my skills, it's him. He was afraid it would be used against me. He could have just said so. What a drama queen.
"Wolves? You mean those preening nobles across the throne room? I don't give a damn."
"The court houses have nursed a grudge against the Pillars for generations, yours most of all. How many times have they accused your house of treason? It never held, because the Crown knows the sacrifices your family made when your signature affinity was lost." His tone had shifted into the lecturing cadence he used when explaining strategy.
How would I know? I didn't grow up with this political theater.
"So you're concerned." Her voice was flat. "And you won't interrogate me about this?" She lifted the book.
"Handle it with care!" he blurted, a scholar's horror at mistreated knowledge. "I will not. I have no wish to pry. I respect whatever compact exists between you and Her Majesty." He adjusted his glasses, a nervous habit.
Tch. This geek. A faint smile touched her lips—a silent acknowledgment of his discretion. His outburst hadn't been about propriety; it had been fear for her.
"That's why I like you the most," she said, the smile turning mischievous.
The words hit Earl like a physical current. His face and the tips of his ears flushed a brilliant, unmistakable red.
"What now? Are you ill? Your face is scarlet. Tsk, bothersome."
He touched his cheek, took a steadying breath. "I am quite well. My point is, if you encounter any script in that text you cannot decipher, do not hesitate to ask."
"I'll remember that." She finished her tea in one swift gulp. "I won't be able to manage dinner now. Too much tea." The complaint was almost playful.
Earl couldn't suppress a smile. He didn't understand why the thought of her anger, of her turning away, felt like the world crumbling. But one thing was certain: something had taken root within him—a seed she had never intended to plant, growing in direct contradiction to her every oath.
"If that's all, I'm leaving. I promised Tina a conversation." She stood.
"Reise." He stood as well, reaching into the inner pocket of his coat. He produced a small velvet box. "Here. For you."
She stared at it. "What is this?"
"It is… a necklace." The admission seemed to embarrass him.
A necklace? Oh. "Is it a magic tool?" Her voice sparkled with predatory interest as she opened the box.
Inside, on a bed of velvet, lay a thin silver chain. The pendant was a clear stone that caught the light, its hue a perfect match for her own grey eyes. It was breathtaking.
Huh. This looks more like jewelry than a tool.
"The pendant is a lattice of several magic stones, most harvested from new-type demons. Its function is mana preservation—a reservoir you can charge with your own energy." He was smiling now, back on comfortable academic ground.
"A mana battery?"
"Precisely. They are standard issue for expeditions to Scutum. It can store roughly thirty percent of your total capacity. A contingency for escape or a decisive strike when depleted."
Then why give it to me? Don't tell me he's piecing together my extracurriculars.
"Why are you giving this to me?"
"When I saw it on my brother's worktable the other day, its color… it reminded me of your eyes." The smile was soft, genuine.
"What?" The answer was so disarmingly personal it threw her.
Earl's eyes widened, realizing his transparency. "I—I merely thought you would appreciate it. As an apology," he stammered, retreating into formality.
G6 closed the box with a soft click. "Then I'll accept it gladly." She started for the door. "I'm leaving now."
"At least allow me to walk you back."
He followed her into the hall.
They walked in companionable silence through the quiet annex. The newly acquired tools felt significant in her grasp: one a key to unlocking the icy power within her, the other a gift whose subtext hung heavy and unspoken, as intricate as the mind that had offered it.
On the second-floor landing of the main villa, G6 turned to him.
"I'll see you around. Thanks again for the gift." Her face showed no trace of the gratitude her words implied.
"It was nothing. I suppose we shan't dine together. Prince Dio and Keith will be at the Bastion late, as will Zen and Brenda." He alluded to the preparations for integrating the new commoner knights.
"I guessed as much. Like I said, I'm full of tea."
"I should return to the Collegium and assist. Keith is likely in a state over my absence." His expression clearly pictured a whining, dramatic Keith.
"Alright. Work hard." She turned away.
Earl merely nodded, a quiet smile on his lips as he watched her go. A wave of profound relief washed over him. He then descended the stairs toward the rear path leading to the Collegium.
This simple exchange—warm and charged with unspoken understanding to an observer—did not go unwitnessed. A servant from the Annex, returning from an errand, had stumbled upon them. Hidden in the deep shadow of a corner, she saw it all: the intimate proximity, the gift, the lingering gaze.
And so, the day's intricate web was spun. A dangerous pact was sealed in the Queen's chamber, binding the crown to a Reaper's shadow. A gift, given under the thin guise of an apology, carried the full weight of a scholar's burgeoning and impossible heart. And from the darkened corner, a servant's eyes mistook cautious alliance for clandestine romance—a single spark of gossip that could, with the right breath, be fanned into a dangerous, consuming flame.
—To Be Continued…—