She had expected him to be there, but not that he would show up like this. Isabelle’s face went pale in an instant – a look he enjoyed as much as Louise.

After glancing down at Isabelle for a moment, Henri grabbed the brim of his hat and greeted the countess.

“Madame Lemoiselle, it really has been a long time. To think that you have managed to cross paths with me – you seem to be no ordinary tenacious spirit.”

Despite receiving what could hardly be called a greeting, the Countess showed no reaction. She simply clasped her hands together and slowly studied Henri. It was not the gaze of someone looking at her child.

“Would you compare me to His Majesty?”

“Your look is that of one who knows something. Madame Lemoiselle, it seems you have no intention of deceiving me?”

“I expected you to come. With your ingratitude, there is surely nothing you wouldn’t do.”

Henri’s brow furrowed at those words. He seemed more emotional than when he was with Isabelle. It was probably difficult for him to remain composed since she knew him from his childhood. In truth, when it came to being meticulous, it was the Queen, while Henri was not without his faults.

“…Relying on emotion would have weakened my resolve. My expectations were excessive.”

“Such expectations are better suited to the coffin of the late Queen Dowager. With His Majesty’s similar temperament, it seems he’ll accept anything you say.”

“I should have buried you at once.”

Unlike Henri, whose veins were visibly bulging, Lemoiselle maintained the same expression from beginning to end. Henri disliked people like her – those who deflected his threats and whose whole lives seemed rooted in calm.

Unlike Louise, who found such people even more intriguing, Henri eventually betrayed his annoyance.

It was simply that there were few who had tested his limits.

For example, Arnaud in Moerne, Isabelle – formerly Elisabeth – until now, and Lemoiselle, who seemed to know everything, were good examples.

“Just as His Majesty had done with the late King.”

As soon as Charles was raised, he lunged forward. Isabelle was thrown back by the impact, and Henri’s hands crushed the fabric of her clerical robe. Her neck was strangled, and even her upper body was lifted, but the countess’s eyes remained fixed only on Henri.

“Why have you come to Antmaren? After bowing and claiming to understand, how is it that you have suddenly found courage?”

“And what is it that Your Majesty fears in coming to Antmaren?”

“I fear nothing. I was the eldest son of the late King, the Dauphin, and after all, I held all of Châteaubienne in my hand!”

Whether it was nausea or words, something overcame Lemoiselle. He seemed less like the head of a nation and more like a rake being dragged before a courtroom.

Knowing she couldn’t pull Henri away, Isabelle quietly moved out of his line of sight and reached into her stomacher.

“The throne should have been mine! How could it make sense for a mere piece of junk to decide the successor? It was the changing times that killed the late King, not me!”

Focused on threatening Lemoiselle, Henri did not notice Isabelle quietly unfolding the handkerchief, nor where the blade in her pale hand was pointed.

“You wretched woman, after all your efforts to serve the late King’s son, this is how you repay me? Die, just die!”

He strangled the nanny with all his might. The Countess’ once calm face became more and more distorted.

Thinking the witness might die – or rather, feeling the need to protect the few remaining connections Arnaud had – Isabelle raised the dagger high above Henri’s back. But before she could even rip his cloak, there was a thud and Henri’s body fell to the side.

“Ugh, ah!”

There was a footprint at his side. Henri grabbed the area and writhed on the floor. At the same time, the Countess collapsed to the ground, coughing violently. All seemed to be in critical condition, but the only one who needed help was Lemoiselle.

“Nanny, are you okay? Are you all right?”

“Sir Arnaud, how did you…”

Though his coat was as black as Henri’s, the sight of his signature blond hair sent a shiver down Isabelle’s spine. When he drew a pistol from his coat, her entire body froze.

“Don’t move!”

The muzzle pointed at his brother’s forehead. He must have brought the gun, prepared for just such a moment.

As Henri stood paralyzed, Arnaud had only one plea for her.

“Hurry, take my nanny and go, quickly!”

Isabelle’s feet were already moving. She threw the dagger far away and ran to support Lemoiselle. The Countess was still struggling to catch her breath. Thinking she desperately needed some fresh air, Isabelle opened the door.

“Hello, Isabelle?”

Louise greeted her with a killer smile. Three or four guards surrounded her, making it clear that this was a trap. By the time she realized something was wrong, it was far too late.

Thunk-

A cold sensation ran down her back. It was the sound of something being struck. She didn’t even have the courage to turn around. But what frightened Isabelle even more was the fact that she felt no pain in her back.

Moments later, the Countess’ body collapsed to the floor. The recoil caused Isabelle’s stance to waver as well, and her back was hit again with the same cold sensation.

“Why not live quietly in prayer instead of not knowing your place?”

The one who had plunged the dagger into the Countess was none other than Henri.

When Isabelle turned her head, she saw her husband collapsed on the floor and Henri wiping the blood from the back of his hand with a careless gesture. Unfortunately, the dagger in Lemoiselle was identical to the one Isabelle had thrown away.

“You stupid little brother.”

“No matter how hard you try to hide it, this is Oretique. Did you think I couldn’t even damage a single pistol?”

Looking at that smirking face, it was clear that all three of them shared the same determination – to land a blow on him.

Death hung over the Countess, and powerlessness over Isabelle and Arnaud, so that none of the three could rise from their positions. Henri, watching them one by one, seemed to be well aware of this. Louise confirmed it with a subtle raise of her eyebrows in Henri’s direction, confirming the truth.

“It was wise to prepare several mourning clothes, Henri.”

“Indeed. Bloodstains cannot be removed, so let’s burn everything on the way.”

“Along with the countess?”

At the queen’s remark, all eyes but Isabelle’s and Arnaud’s fell on Lemoiselle. The answer that followed was relentlessly cruel.

“She should at least be allowed a final farewell. With the blade buried so deeply, there’s no way to save her anyway.”

“Are you saying you will leave the body behind?”

“They won’t even attend the funeral. The subordinates will bring the body at an appropriate time. For now, you and I should concentrate on keeping up appearances.”

“Should I change my clothes as well? What about what I’m wearing now?” “When we get to Moerne, I’ll call a tailor right away.”

Louise put her arm around Henri’s, laughing happily, and the door closed behind them.

The lamp on the wall didn’t provide enough light to see the wounds clearly, but one had to try.

“Madame, please, just a moment, let me see your back…”

When Isabelle tried to turn her trembling hands toward her, the Countess shook her head and held her back.

“I knew it would end like this.”

“Then why, why come here, why at all…?”

“Because I had to tell you.”

There was no trace of fear in the Countess’s voice. Even as her blood pooled on the floor beneath her, Countess Lemoiselle remained calm.

“Arnaud, Sir Arnaud.”

Her tone was the same even as she called to a trembling Arnaud. Only then did Arnaud, unable to pull the trigger, release it, shaking his head repeatedly as he embraced the nanny.

“Nanny, Nanny…”

“There’s so much to reveal, but here I am… leaving too soon… ha, ah.”

“Don’t say that, okay? You’re not going to die, nobody’s going to die. I can save you. Once the bleeding stops…”

He probably knew better than anyone that pleading wouldn’t change anything. Still, Isabelle couldn’t help but understand his urge to shake his head in denial, and so she didn’t stop her husband.

” I’m lucky I was stabbed in the back. It bought me time… ha… some time.”

“Why do you act like you’re dying? You’re not dying! No one is dying!”

Tears welled up in Arnaud’s voice. Drops so large they couldn’t even flow fell from his eyes as he clasped Lemoiselle’s hands, which gently cupped his cheeks. Their hands were stained with blood, but none of the three cared.

“If there is a place in hell reserved for you, Sir Arnaud, I will bear it in your stead. Use my death as a reason to grow stronger.”

“No, no…”

As each word began to sound like a final goodbye, tears streamed down Isabelle’s face. Outside the door, the idle chatter of the guards could still be heard clearly.

She was no different from a prisoner. Struggling to raise her fading eyes, Lemoiselle conveyed her intentions with a steady stare. Wondering if she had any last words, Isabelle quickly leaned forward, only to see a piece of metal come into view.

“What is that…?”

“It’s Madame Royale’s ring. She insisted… ugh, insisted that I give it to you.”

Upon closer inspection, it was a silver ring split in half. Realizing that it was no ordinary piece of metal, Isabelle lowered her voice as she spoke.

Madame Royale was probably referring to either Thérèse or Éléonore. Éléonore, having become the Duchess of Eurbonne, could no longer use the title Madame Royale, but Lemoiselle, in her current state, was hardly in a position to care about such things.

Isabelle decided to understand the Countess’s circumstances – or rather, she had no choice.

“If it’s Princess Éléonore, how could she…”

“No, no, it’s not her.”

Though it wasn’t the time to sit there dumbfounded, mouth agape, the revelation of another Madame Royale was enough to turn Isabelle’s thoughts upside down.

At the same time, Arnaud’s sobs stopped. Lemoiselle, as if anticipating this reaction, faintly lifted the corners of her lips and spoke with her last breath:

“Princess Thérèse is alive. The first daughter the late king saw… she is still in Möbien…”