Vincent smiled. "Is that something you want to know, or are you asking on behalf of your 'Fool'?"
"I… want to know myself."
"Ah."
Vincent said: "Roselle is caught between life and death. He died — but not fully. He wants to live — but can't yet."
The answer left Klein genuinely confused.
He turned it over for a while, then let go of the swirling questions and returned to the most pressing issue — the one that had brought him here in the first place. "Great Lord of Chaos, what I'm worried about is… why would that person leave such a note? Because to me, it reads more like a threat."
"That I couldn't tell you. Different people have different thoughts and intentions." Vincent shifted. "If you're truly worried, why not go directly to the Church of the Evernight Goddess and ask for shelter?"
Klein blinked, uncertain what He meant.
Vincent smiled. "What, you didn't know? The Evernight Goddess and your Fool have a rather close relationship."
"???"
That's news to me.
...
Back in reality, Vincent said to Bernadette: "Just now — that was Klein."
"Did he reveal his identity as a transmigrator to you?"
"No. He attributed everything he knows to the Fool telling him."
Bernadette raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that being overly cautious?"
She thought for a moment of the young Zaratul she'd glimpsed as a child — the Fool Pathway's Angel, famous above all else for his extraordinary caution and paranoia. Her father had once described Zaratul as the "King of Playing It Safe." He seriously doubted, having known Zaratul for as long as he had, whether he'd ever once seen the man's true face.
Was this… a trait shared by the Fool Pathway?
If Vincent had known what she was thinking, he'd have said: It's called the Chicken Three — you think that's a joke?
"Ahem. Don't forget — you and I are the same. We haven't revealed our identities to Mr. Fool either. Put yourself in his shoes — everyone thinks the same way, more or less. There's a saying in our world: 'you can't read a person's heart.' All the more true of gods."
"'Trust in a god's power, but not in their mercy' — wasn't that your line?"
Bernadette said nothing further.
"Bernadette — with that stunt you pulled on Klein earlier, do you actually expect to uncover some 'deeper secret' between him and Mr. Fool? Or is there another reason?"
After a long pause, Vincent finally asked.
She ran her thumb over her fingers. "I also want to use Klein to observe the Fool's attitude toward His 'fellow countrymen.'"
"And then?"
"And then…" Bernadette pressed her lips together. "I want to know — when the Fool discovers that His fellow countryman Roselle isn't truly dead, but stands to perish permanently because of George III's ascension, will He step in out of that hometown loyalty?"
"Or — will He actively help George III instead, to ensure that Father is permanently destroyed."
Ah. So that's it.
I'd assumed Bernadette somehow deduced Klein was the Fool simply because he speaks Chinese. She hadn't. This was a much more calculated line of inquiry.
"And right now — have you worked anything out yet?"
She shook her head. "Too early to say."
Vincent thought for a moment. "I have a suggestion, if you want to consider it."
"Mm?"
"At the next Tarot Club, you could reveal your identity as Roselle's daughter to Mr. Fool directly. I think that might make it much easier to gauge His real feelings about Roselle."
Bernadette gave a quiet sound of agreement. "Alright."
...
The next morning.
Bernadette, following Vincent's lead, ordered the same "Fool's breakfast set" and flipped through the morning paper while she ate.
Suddenly, an Invisible Servant slipped out of the Spirit World and placed a letter in her hand.
She set down the paper and opened it. The sender was Vice Admiral Iceberg Edwina Edwards — a descendant of Uncle Edwards.
Dear Madam,
Your Majesty Queen Mystic — thank you for your recent care of Danitz. He tells me you wished to contact me. You are welcome any time.
Edwina Edwards
Reading it, the two of them suddenly remembered: some time back, when playing the role of the Prosecutor and parting ways with Danitz, they'd asked him to pass a message to his captain.
So much had happened since then that they'd nearly forgotten entirely.
Bernadette folded the letter, finished the last of her sweet iced tea, and rose from the table. As she stepped out of the restaurant, her outline blurred and faded — invisible.
"Take me to Edwina."
The Invisible Servant gave a small squeak, then dove into the Spirit World first. Bernadette followed close behind, moving quickly through that vivid, richly coloured dimension.
A few minutes later, the Invisible Servant looked back with another chirp and slipped out through a tear in the Spirit World. Bernadette stepped through the gap it had opened — and was greeted by an expanse of blue ocean and sky, warm salt air blowing in her face.
A sailing ship, forty or fifty metres long, clean and well-kept, gleaming gold in the sunlight. The moment Bernadette emerged from the Spirit World, a dozen crew members reached for their weapons — ready to move at any instant.
Among them was Danitz, who'd been holding court with a group of younger sailors, talking animatedly.
"Stand down!"
Danitz snapped to attention and threw out both arms to block the others. "This is the Captain's guest! Everyone back to your posts."
He walked to within a couple of metres of Bernadette and stopped. "Welcome, Your Excellency."
"Where's Edwina?"
"The Captain's cabin. I'll take you."
They crossed the deck one after the other to the captain's cabin door. Three or four men were loitering nearby — eyeing Bernadette with unconcealed hostility. Different Pathways, different looks, different personalities — but one thing in common: they were all devoted admirers of Captain Edwina.
Or, to put it more plainly, they were all her loyal lapdogs.
They'd been faithfully circling her for ages, and now the Captain had suddenly agreed to meet some man they'd never even heard of. How could they not be hostile?
Danitz shot them a quick meaningful look. Unlike you lot, I've actually seen what this person can do. This is a genuine demigod. Maybe pick your moments.
"Captain — your guest is here."
The inner door of the captain's cabin was promptly pulled open. A woman appeared in the frame — cream jacket, dark knee-length skirt, brown boots, long brown hair, and a handsome face. A dark-brown, leather-bound book in her hand.
At the sight of Bernadette, she gave a slight nod, then stepped back to make room. "Please come in."
"Captain, you sure this is alright?" The one who spoke was a blond man with decent looks — he'd come aboard explicitly for Edwina's sake.
"Captain." The first mate, Bru Walles, was a tall man wearing a monocle. Entirely unremarkable at first glance — but that monocle gave Vincent a persistent, crawling unease. Every time he saw it, some part of him braced for the man to suddenly transform into that monocle-wearing figure.
Edwina ignored the chorus of anxious lapdogs and, once Bernadette was inside, closed the cabin door behind them. She took a few steps back, pressed her right hand to her chest, and bowed slightly. "Good afternoon, Your Majesty Queen Mystic."
"Hello, Edwina."
Bernadette looked at the girl — those eyes bearing a faint resemblance to Uncle Edwards — and a few fragmented old memories surfaced.
"Please sit, Your Majesty."
Edwina poured Bernadette a glass of deep-red Sonia wine. "You had Danitz bring me a message — may I ask what it concerns?"
Bernadette surfaced from her thoughts. "Just some questions about Uncle Edwards."
Edwina paused, then sorted out who "Uncle Edwards" was — the ancestor from over a century ago.
"I wanted to know whether Uncle Edwards left behind anything connected to my father — anything at all."
Edwina considered. "There should be some books and letters, yes — but I've gone through all of it, and nothing struck me as particularly special."
"Mostly some fairy tale books, and a small number of texts on mysticism. The letters were ordinary correspondence between Ancestor Edwards and Emperor Roselle."
Fairy tales.
Bernadette immediately thought of those story books her father had written specially to amuse her when she was small. After his assassination, those books had been lost or destroyed in the chaos. She'd assumed they were simply gone.
It hadn't occurred to her that Uncle Edwards might have taken them.
"If Your Majesty requires them," Edwina continued, "I'll dig them out and return them the next time I'm in Lenburg."
"Thank you."
"As for anything beyond that…"
Edwina shook her head. "As far as I know, there's nothing else. In his final years, Ancestor Edwards seems to have deliberately gone through everything in the house and taken it all with him — as though he was deliberately hiding something."
Bernadette considered that quietly. If he'd wanted to hide something, it could only be the location of Father's final mausoleum. Which made sense — that was the last hope for Father's resurrection, and leaving any trace in the world would be a risk not worth taking.
"Oh, and—"
Edwina seemed to remember something. She put the book down, walked to the bunk, lifted the mattress, and pulled out several yellowed pages of parchment. "I have a few pages of Roselle's notes here — they were tucked inside a book I brought with me."
To be continued…
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