A gust of wind passed through. Mixed in with the noise of the crowd, a single card came sailing on the breeze from somewhere and landed in front of Astero.

He picked it up and turned it over.

The card, bordered with a fine trim, was made of paper that looked extraordinarily expensive.

“Huh……”

The card slipped from Astero’s fingers as the color drained from his face.

Ink had begun to bleed where the water had soaked through. Carried on the unrelenting wind, the card tumbled far across the grass.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

She dreamed.

In the dream, Pieta sat across from a warmly smiling Hybris, talking and drinking tea.

Little Eve sat beside them, making a fuss over nothing in particular about her milk.

“A small sip should be fine—”

“No, Hybris. And Eve, you are still too young to drink this.”

Pieta, whose health was poor, kept medicinal tea close at all times, and there were moments when Eve, drawn by its lovely fragrance, would throw a tantrum demanding some for herself.

Hybris would say a single sip could not hurt, and Pieta would refuse absolutely.

“Pieta, Eve is so curious. Let her have some.”

“No. It is not good for a child her age.”

Pieta, who permitted almost everything, was unyielding on this one point, so Eve never pushed too hard.

“Let’s make a promise instead, Eve.”

When Eve sulked and fell quiet, sipping at her milk, Pieta would soften her stern expression and smile warmly, stroking her hair.

“When you’ve grown as tall as Mama, we’ll drink together then. Not this medicine tea, but whatever you want most. I promise. All right?”

“Yes!”

She had been so delighted, even without knowing when that day would come.

The Eve in the dream nodded at Pieta with a bright, unclouded smile.

The feel of Pieta’s hand stroking her hair was so pleasant that she let her eyes drift shut.

Then something felt slightly off. Pieta’s hand, so warm and soft before, felt cold and rough.

“……?”

Eve opened her eyes again. She froze, breath caught in her throat.

Pieta’s eyes, sunken deep into her face, were looking at her. Her skin was like cracked bark. Her hair had fallen out in patches, leaving a terrible sight.

“……Eve.”

The voice, raw and hoarse like metal scraped against metal, could not even finish her name.

“M, Mama……?”

But she was not afraid.

Why did this happen to you? Eve asked in a trembling voice. Pieta reached out a hand, thin and dried to nothing but bone.

“Promise me…… you must……”

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

“Miss, Miss!”

“Miss! Can you hear me?”

She had a vague sense of a blurry world rising before her eyes, and then unfamiliar voices were shaking her awake.

“Hah……!”

Eve’s eyes flew open in shock. Her hands clenched tight around whatever they could find.

“Quickly! Go and fetch Sir Ophiucus, now!”

“Yes!”

Urgent footsteps faded away, followed by the sound of a door opening and closing.

“Miss, can you hear me?”

The voice kept speaking to her, and with each word her mind grew a little clearer. Eve blinked slowly and turned to look beside her.

“Miss, it’s me, Medi! Do you recognize me?”

“……!”

Eve flinched at the sight of the face speaking so earnestly to her.

Media. Eve’s nursemaid.

“Me…… Media?”

“Goodness…… you’ve come back to us! Thank heavens…… truly, thank heavens, Miss!”

Media’s eyes filled with tears. She gripped Eve’s hand tight and pressed her forehead to her cheek.

“I was so frightened you might not wake up.”

The Media Eve knew was an elderly nursemaid, and not one given to embracing her.

But the Media before her now looked nothing like an elderly woman. She was young.

On top of that, her manner was impossibly warm, and Eve, who had only just woken and was still struggling to collect herself, felt thoroughly disoriented.

The Media in Eve’s memory had never once smiled. She was a cold woman through and through.

And—

[Miss Eve, your Father is calling for you.]

She had always addressed Eve with stiff formality, never the familiar warmth of “Miss.”

“W, wait…… Media, just a moment.”

Eve’s hands drifted without direction, searching for somewhere to land, and after a long moment she carefully reached out and pushed the clinging Media away.

“Oh, right, this isn’t the time. I’ll go and fetch the master!”

“……The master?”

“Yes. He was so worried. He said to let him know the moment you woke. Please wait just a moment, I’ll bring him right—”

She had barely begun to wonder who this “master” could be when, before Media could finish her sentence, the door burst open.

“Eve has come to……!”

The voice calling out as it rushed inside was so familiar to Eve that it raised the hair on her skin.

Surely not. It can’t be. It won’t be.

Eve shook her head hard. The footsteps that had crossed the room quickly came to a stop before the curtain drawn across the bed.

“Eve!”

The curtain swept aside, and the person who appeared made Eve feel as though her heart had stopped.

“……Father?”

It was Hybris.

“Father?”

Hybris had been striding toward her with a look of relief, but he halted and pressed a hand to his forehead.

“I thought you had finally woken, and yet…… Ophiucus—!”

“Yes, yes, let me have a look.”

Ophiucus appeared behind him, carrying a house call bag as large as he was.

“Please, sit here.”

“Thank you.”

Media pulled the chair beside the headboard forward.

Ophiucus sat down and opened the bag. The instruments inside looked alarming even at a glance.

Eve was already reeling from Hybris’s appearance, and she shrank back against the bed like a cat with every hair on end.

“Now then, Mi…… not that, Miss, if you would hold out your arm—”

“Don’t touch me!”

Eve knocked Ophiucus’s hand away and pulled the blanket over herself. She left only her eyes uncovered and fixed the people around her with a fierce, hostile stare.

“Miss, please calm down!”

Media reached out in a fluster, trying to pull the blanket back down.

“Media, one moment.”

Ophiucus studied Eve carefully and followed her gaze.

She was not warding off everyone around her at random. Without blinking, she had fixed her eyes on one person alone.

“Hybris. Media. Would you mind stepping out for a moment?”

Ophiucus turned to Hybris with an easygoing smile.

“What?”

Hybris stiffened and demanded an explanation.

Ophiucus shifted his seat slightly forward, placing himself between Eve and Hybris’s line of sight, and gave a small shrug.

“Mi…… no, the young lady went through quite a shock. She seems too shaken to settle down, so I think it would be better to examine her quietly.”

“All the more reason I should stay and watch!”

“Hybris. I am the doctor here, not you.”

Ophiucus spoke firmly to the stubborn Hybris.

A doctor’s word left little room to argue. Hybris sent Media out first, then stepped past the curtain drawn around the bed, pausing to look back at Eve.

“Eve. If this man tries anything strange, you shout immediately. Understood?”

Eve flinched at the sound of her name in Hybris’s voice, then tucked herself behind Ophiucus’s broad back and curled inward.

“Of course. I intend to carry out my duties as a physician with full dedication, so please do go on out.”

Ophiucus urged him along. Hybris issued several more warnings to do his best, then disappeared behind the curtain.

Ophiucus waited until all the voices beyond the curtain had gone, confirmed the door had closed, and came back to the bedside.

“No one else is here now, so I can call you Eve, can’t I?”

“……”

“I had heard from Media that things between the two of you had not been going well lately, but it looks worse than I expected.”

The two of them. He must mean Eve and Hybris.

Had there ever been a time when things were good between them? Eve thought that to herself and stared at Ophiucus as he settled into the seat before her.

His face was familiar in a way she could not quite place. The name Ophiucus was the same.

She had no idea what was happening. Eve was deeply confused.

She had been killed by Hybris, left with nothing but her soul, and had been crossing a place called Cocytus, the river of memory, following the man who called himself an undertaker.

Then she had seen old memories reflected on the surface of Cocytus and, unable to stop herself, had jumped in. She remembered that much.

Everything after was hazy.

A light had come toward her and she had reached out. Breathing had felt difficult.

She had heard many voices, and then—

“……Mom.”

Pieta. She had dreamed of Pieta.

Perhaps that single word, murmured without thinking, was enough to move him. Ophiucus reached out and patted her shoulder gently where she sat curled beneath the blanket.

“It’s not so strange…… with a wedding ahead of you, did thoughts of your mother come to you all of a sudden?”