As if shattering the fantasy that had possessed him, the familiar voice recited ‘Your Majesty’ rather than calling him Cassian.

It wasn’t time to blame others. Cassian Pendragon himself was the biggest problem.

Cassian hurriedly stepped back. The regrettable warmth became distantly far.

“I have committed rudeness, Mademoiselle Laure.”

Before she could question him, he quickly changed the subject.

“Also, the Empress was quite unreasonable today. Though it may be late, I apologize for that incident as well. It was my fault for failing to control the situation, so I ask for Mademoiselle’s generous understanding.”

If it had been Belle, if it had been Cassian’s Belle, she would have gently curved her eyes and whispered that it was alright… how could that be your fault?

But Lumière’s Belle softly drew her fine eyebrows together. In that simple action, momentary displeasure and bewilderment were clearly revealed.

“Why did Her Majesty the Empress act that way?”

It was a somewhat cold voice, like how beautiful roses have thorns. Unlike her sharpness, Cassian still whispered in a gentle voice.

“There was someone called Belle in Gabrienne.”

“It’s a common name.”

“She looked very much like you, Mademoiselle.”

As he spoke with his own mouth, he examined her again. Face, figure, voice, even small habits.

Simply saying they resembled each other wasn’t enough. Cassian felt it vividly. It was as if Valentine had come back to life.

Even though the dead cannot be revived.

For a moment, it felt like goosebumps were rising. The momentary trembling made him speak words he didn’t need to utter.

“Also, she was the most special person in my life.”

Whoosh, the desolate sound of leaves surrendering to the night wind colliding with each other.

The woman blinked once. Her red lips moved.

“If she was special, was she Your Majesty’s lover? With my limited knowledge, I can’t think of any other reason why Her Majesty the Empress would be angry.”

“Lover, is it.”

Cassian chewed on those words. Could his Valentine be expressed in just one word?

“Such a simple word cannot explain the relationship between that person and me. It was a relationship that any words would be insufficient to describe.”

It was neither affirmation nor denial. It was a voice artfully avoiding an answer.

“It seems I’ve taken up much of Mademoiselle’s time unintentionally. Then, farewell.”

Cassian, whispering with proper manners, passed by her. From his footsteps, it seemed as if the scent of time that no one could catch was wafting.

She, frozen still in place, watched Cassian’s retreating back for a while. Until that person gradually growing distant transformed into a single point, a pitch-black shadow, and disappeared.

The sound of footsteps trampling the grass faded. The sound of flowing water, the sound of insects crying echoed in her ears.

She suddenly clenched both fists tightly. Her trembling hands spoke of vicious pain.

“……”

“Are you wavering?”

Lucifer, appearing suddenly, asked. Nevertheless, Valentine’s gaze remained fixed on only one place. Beyond the pitch-black darkness where now no one existed.

“Belle.”

“……”

“Belle.”

“…You too.”

Finally, her gaze was withdrawn. The eyes looking up at Lucifer trembled.

“Don’t call me that.”

Lucifer’s gaze slid down. Valentine’s tightly clenched hands were reflected in his red eyes. Veins bulged over her white hands.

Words followed, spitting out.

“Because it’s disgusting.”

“For someone saying that, you’re quite shaken.”

At the cold words, Valentine bit her lip. Lucifer stepped one step closer. A dangerous scent wafted strongly from him.

“Master.”

Calm crimson eyes stared at Valentine’s figure. A lowly sunken voice rang out ominously.

“Don’t try to deceive me. I can hear your soul’s screaming voice clearly.”

“…What?”

The questioning voice was sharp. Soon, she muttered a low sneer.

“I who laughed and cried even in Astaire’s blood-scented embrace. This much…”

Valentine muttered as if making excuses. But words she couldn’t finish caught at the end of her lips.

“This much…”

Tears─ welled up. Valentine bit her lip again. The pale white skin burst, and a fishy scent wet her tongue.

Trembling hands grabbed Lucifer’s chest. Deep wrinkles were engraved in his clothes.

“Did you hope to cling because you’re shaken?”

There was a voice that tore at the heart because it was indifferent. If she hadn’t thought of that, that would be words deceiving herself.

“Would it have been easier on your heart if you had caused a disturbance like Amaryllis, Master?”

“If one is human…”

The eyes looking up at Lucifer glistened. Tears that finally didn’t fall formed as bruises in her heart.

“Because one is human, isn’t that what should naturally happen? How…”

Facing all of life’s endless storms and waves,

“How can he be like that?”

Even if one’s soul becomes corrupted by unbearable evil deeds,

“Lu, I’m angry… So…”

The woman had a foolish past where she only looked at and followed that one man.

The woman of that time, who only craved love, was pure and blind. If she could be with that man, if she could promise a future with him, she would have willingly accepted even if the whole world became her enemy. In reality, the world did become her enemy, and she gladly endured it all.

But her purity died. It sank deep into the sea, battered by the storms.

Swish, her hand moved in an instant, pointing to where the man had disappeared. A voice swallowing bitter tears cut through the night air.

“How can that person treat me like this… How can he be so nonchalant?”

It wasn’t a path she had come unprepared. She knew she would face him again when she came.

Valentine herself knew best that the name of Madame Marguerite was not light. She had expected that Gabrienne would be turned upside down, and she had deliberately taken this step, calculating that those who had wronged her would be restless with anxiety.

But in reality, the greatest sinner was unaffected. Even though he had been so enchanted that he had mistakenly uttered her name by Amaryllis’s side.

Yet for her, even calling his name was painful.

His nonchalant attitude, as if not a shred of guilt existed, disturbed her composure. That fact made her anger rise and her body tremble.

There was a time when she lived for that person. A long time defined solely for that person existed vividly within her.

All that time, at this moment, shattered into pieces. Astaire’s blood-soaked embrace was nothing compared to that person’s composed attitude.

“Was I… such an insignificant existence to him?”

“Are you asking even after seeing?”

“Did he smell a foul odor in my embrace, just as I cried and laughed in Astaire’s blood-soaked embrace? Did he cry and laugh after that?”

A distinctly carved passage of time.

For someone, it was an eternal wound, for another, just a stepping stone for the future.

Such a difference in hearts. Thus, she realized again.

She loved him more than she thought, and that man didn’t love that woman as much as she thought.

“It’s natural to be weak because one is human, to wander because one is weak, and to waver because one wanders.”

The demon before her eyes offered no comfort. He only calmly and coldly recited reality.

“Didn’t you promise? That what Master wants will bloom in my hands.”

“……”

“But it would be good to think about what Master desires.”

What Valentine desires. What she wants.

There were words that Valentine, who had risen from the grave, chewed over every day. Words she constantly reminded herself of at every moment when she felt like collapsing, trembling with terrible betrayal.

“I wish… he would know the same pain as me.”

Valentine muttered haltingly.

“To be brutally betrayed, to lose everyone around, to lose the only hope, to be unable to trust anyone, to be unable to love, to tremble in the abyss of loneliness… And then.”

Valentine, looking up at Lucifer, laughed through tears.

“I wish he would be severely punished by the hands of the person he trusts and relies on most.”

Just as she had been killed by Liam.

“As Master wishes.”

Lucifer slowly nodded. His cold hand caressed Valentine’s cheek.

“Those whom Master hates will eventually perish.”

Valentine, reassured by the black touch, slowly bowed her head.

So she would bite her lip and move forward with clenched fists. That was the only way for Valentine de le Blumir to comfort her soul that she had sold to this demon.

Forgiveness.

It is the ultimate arrogance recited by people who have never lost anything. At the same time, it is the dignity that only merciful angels who can embrace everything can possess.

But Valentine, who could neither be arrogant nor become a merciful angel, could only vow revenge.

So they are your enemies.

Forgive no one.

For her past self, still trapped in a snow-white nightmare, unable to wake up.

* * *

Bang!

Count Glastia, returning to the mansion, irritably closed the door. Gwenael, his still immature son, raised his voice at the sudden commotion.

“What is this… Father, is that you?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

Realizing it was Count Glastia and not a servant, Gwenael lightly shrugged his shoulders. Then, swish, he playfully swung the sword he was holding. Swish! A sharp sound cut through the air.