A pitiful voice rang out. On that first day they met, Valentine’s grudge, as she muttered unbelievable stories, was particularly deep and grand.

Even Lumière, who had submitted to power and lived prostrated, understood that feeling. She knew better than anyone the desire to devour those who had made her that way.

However…

“I’m worried. Worried that you’ll get hurt again.”

During their time together, which wasn’t short, she had grown fond of both Valentine and the demon she commanded. Now, she cherished this child like her own blood.

“You were the only one who pulled me out of my hell, who reached out to me there.”

Valentine pondered Lumière’s words. Hurt, she said.

For Valentine, there couldn’t exist a worse situation than now. It seemed there wasn’t even space for new wounds in the corner of her already worn heart.

Valentine’s innocence had died long ago. It had been burned together when the child died.

“So what did Your Highness answer?”

“The truth. I said you were Belle Laure from Tristan, whom I had raised since childhood. There was nothing else to say in an excuse. Except that I could guarantee your status.”

“Good. That’s enough.”

Valentine smiled almost imperceptibly.

“I will definitely give this Sehera to Your Highness.”

“……”

Lumière lowered her lonely eyes without answering.

Lumière too had to struggle to survive in this homeland. But she didn’t want to think only of her own happiness.

It had to include that of Valentine, who had given her an opportunity. Even if it meant betraying her own blood sibling.

* * *

A few days later, at the Imperial joust.

This competition used to be a team concept where many people were divided into two sides to compete all at once, with the side having the last person standing being victorious. But these days, it was one-on-one matches to determine the final winner.

Several matches proceeded smoothly. There were no injuries, and the victories and defeats were cleanly accepted without controversy.

However, enemies always meet on a narrow bridge.

Before long, Valentine’s handkerchief fluttered at the tip of Gwenael’s wooden lance in the arena. The letter B was clearly visible at the end of the piece of cloth, prettily tied with a ribbon.

Gwenael, settled in his saddle, reached out his hand. His silver metal gauntlet cupped the cheek of the woman standing below the horse.

Watching from afar, sparks flew in Liam’s eyes.

“I shall present victory to you, Mademoiselle.”

“Oh, how precious. I’ll be waiting.”

The woman who left this conventional response turned away primly. Soon she moved with light steps, her bright golden hair fluttering.

Liam, adjusting his silver helmet, mounted his horse. As the two competitors exchanged greetings and created distance between them, the judge raised a large white flag dramatically.

The woman entered the spectator seats. Just as she took out her opera glasses, sitting in the imperial family’s place in place of Lumière who wasn’t attending today,

“Mademoiselle Laure.”

Cassian, sitting in the next seat, quietly addressed her.

Valentine raised her head sharply. Cassian, not even looking at Valentine’s side, continued speaking. His sunken voice was utterly cold.

“You must have heard from my sister.”

“Ah, yes. A few days ago, Her Highness did tell me about Madame Marguerite.”

Valentine, answering in a dry voice, turned her head again. She didn’t particularly want to look at Cassian.

“Though I’m not sure if it’s appropriate for Your Majesty to say that.”

“It is.”

“Ah, I’m glad you’re not showing foolish behavior. However, Your Majesty, if I may dare speak first… I was really embarrassed listening to Her Highness’s words.”

Valentine took out her handkerchief and wiped the dusty lens of her opera glasses.

“Of course, Monsieur Glastia did tell me some not unpleasant stories, but Madame Marguerite wasn’t exactly someone who went around spreading good deeds, was she?”

Though she herself felt somewhat wronged.

She admits that she didn’t stop Astaire’s rampant behavior, that she participated in tyranny by relying on Astaire’s power. However, even for those two matters, there were excuses.

The former was a matter of Valentine’s life. If she had uttered even a single word of disapproval against Astaire’s actions, her neck would have been the first to go.

The latter had a different mastermind. It was Cassian, who was right in front of her. She was merely his intricate marionette.

“Not only do I hear that I resemble that kind of person, but now I… Ah, Your Majesty, I think I should say something else first.”

The judge lowered the white flag. Clop-clop, the horses spurred on at their riders’ command. Dust scattered throughout the arena.

“Since coming to Gabrienne following Her Highness, everyone who sees me talks about Madame Marguerite. I’m getting tired of it now. Even Duke Blumir suddenly grabbed me while looking for Valentine.”

At those words, Cassian stole a glance at the woman. She was subtly frowning. The woman lightly waved both hands as if shaking something off.

It was a familiar sight. It was a habit that Cassian’s Belle often showed.

Thanks to that, the shadow of one person overlapped again.

However, the woman continued speaking in a tone that his Belle would never have used.

“Valentine, you say. I wondered if I had become a man. What parent would name their daughter Valentine? If it’s too meaningful, I wouldn’t dare to call it.”

“…It’s sometimes used in Sehera.”

Cassian, erasing his thoughts, replied as indifferently as possible. Along with that, clang! The first sound of wooden lances clashing with armor shook the heavens.

“Is that so? It would never happen in Tristan. Perhaps in Sehera, do people devoutly worship Valentinus?”

“Rather than worshipping Valentinus, it simply because it sounds appealing. It’s preferred because it can be given to anyone without issue.”

As he replied thus, Cassian thought inadvertently.

Until meeting Valentine de le Blumir, it had been a saint’s name he gave no thought to. Rather, like Belle Laure said, Cassian too first thought of a man when hearing the name Valentine. Though he said it was sometimes used in Sehera, he had never seen it given to a woman.

After meeting her, it took on a special meaning. It was then that he first thought the name sounded pretty.

Now, when he heard Valentine, he thought of her first. Her delicate golden hair, her wavering violet eyes, her fine lips and skin.

Now, it was purely a woman’s name.

“Is that so? To me, it sounds like a perfect male name.”

The woman replied indifferently, seemingly uninterested.

The two riders, who had gained nothing from the first clash, pulled on their reins. The horses turned around. Soon, scattering dust, they charged fiercely towards each other again.

“What would Your Majesty do if I said I was indeed Madame Marguerite?”

At those words, Cassian flinched. At last, he turned to look at the woman quite fiercely.

The woman was still wiping her opera glasses. Cassian inadvertently drew in a breath at her curling snow-white golden hair. That side profile kept calling forth someone who no longer existed in reality.

What if she was Valentine?

Well, even now, immediately…

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean exactly what I said.”

Clang! The second sound of wooden lances clashing rang out. The arena shook with the cheers of excited people.

“Though she’s not someone who had done good deeds, seeing how the story keeps coming up, it seems many miss her. After hearing the same thing everywhere, I’ve gotten stubborn too. I just thought it might be easier to go around saying that.”

Cassian’s gaze sank desolately. Soon, the woman who was casually raising her opera glasses continued.

“Isn’t that better than constantly being misunderstood? No need to explain, no need to deny. I’ve never been so flustered in my life.”

“……”

What should he say in response?

The excited horse scraped the ground with its hooves. Thick dust spread in all directions. Soon the two riders clashed.

Crack! For the third time, this time the sound of a wooden lance breaking scattered.

“Aagh!”

At the same time, a terrible scream rang out. The person on the horse flew through the air. Thud, the sound of a human falling to the ground was unbearably eerie. The riderless horse circled the arena.

A terrible smell of blood suddenly enveloped the arena that had instantly gone quiet.

* * *

The excited horse scraped the arena floor. As the solid hooves brushed the ground, dry dust thickly covered everything around. Snort, it neighed once.

Liam pulled the reins. The horse charged violently following his command.

Clang! It was the familiar noise of lances clashing. Even though it was a collision between hollow lances, the impact that rushed in, amplified by the acceleration and weight of the running horse, was quite large. His whole body tingled at the momentary collision.

Though it was a familiar joust he had done hundreds of times, today there was an excitement in Liam’s inner self that wouldn’t settle.

“……”

No, he didn’t know if this emotion could even be called excitement. It was a bizarre sensation. Like he was burning from head to toe, a strange feeling he had never experienced before.