29.
It lasted only a moment, but it felt as though my ears were submerged in the sea—muffled, heavy, and dragging. Time slowed to the crawl of a dried-up riverbed.
Slowly.
Very, very slowly.
“Aaaah!”
The scream shattered the sky above the wedding venue, snapping Anita from her daze.
‘…Ah.’
A sniper.
Someone was trying to kill her.
“Anita.”
Anita shook her head, trying to steady her reeling mind as the reality of the situation took hold.
“Anita Boellony.”
“Yes. I’ve come to my senses, Lancelot.”
Amidst the chaos, she found herself hauled behind the wedding podium, pressed against Lancelot’s chest.
The bullet had come from the direction of the Duke’s mansion, overlooking the rear garden. Lancelot scanned the open windows for a heartbeat before turning back to her. He took a ragged breath and gripped her chin, his cold silk glove brushing against her cheek. When his hand pulled away, a streak of bright red blood remained on his fingertips.
“Damn it.”
A low curse escaped his lips.
But Anita had no room to worry about her own wound.
‘The Grand Duchess.’
Her eyes darted across the grounds, searching only for her.
Fortunately, she spotted her quickly. The Grand Duchess had taken refuge under a nearby table, aided by the soldiers who had been attending as guests.
And her face.
‘An expression of surprise.’
What was she surprised by? The failed assassination? Or the fact that Matilda had taken the gunshot wound instead of her?
My eyes met the Grand Duchess’. Her gaze was fierce, shimmering like that of a beast. It was nothing short of murderous intent.
It really is you.
“Matilda! The blood…! Inspector Marc! Over here, come over here!”
Following Norman’s frantic call, Inspector Marc—a face familiar to Anita—rushed behind the podium.
Matilda touched her own neck with pale, trembling hands. Droplets of blood beaded on a thin laceration, as if she had been sliced by glass.
“We need a doctor immediately. Escort Matilda and the Grand Duchess to their room, and reinforce the perimeter. Comb through the Duke’s mansion, now.”
Norman grabbed the inspector’s arm, but Marc’s eyes remained fixed elsewhere.
“Lord Lancelot, Ms. Anita. Are you alright?”
Lancelot smoothed his furrowed brow with a sharp gesture and nodded.
“It is certain the shot was aimed at Ms. Anita. What will you do?”
“What will I do? Is there any other option besides catching them and killing them?”
“Locking the doors is the surest way to catch the culprit. However, you must not forget that controlling the entry and exit of the guests could lead to additional casualties.”
Lancelot glanced at Anita for a moment before answering in a gravelly voice.
“We will lock down the area and process the guests one by one. I will personally verify the identity of everyone leaving.”
“Understood. That is the most reliable method.”
As soon as Marc agreed, Norman’s hands latched onto his arm again.
“Inspector Marc! What about Matilda? She has a wound on her neck. Take us to a safe place immediately to treat her…”
“Lord Norman. Lady Matilda is fine. The wound is minor and the bleeding has already stopped; her life is in no danger. Please calm down. We will evacuate you shortly.”
“Calm down? Did you not say that Anita Boellony was the target? We must get away from here for our own safety!”
“It is difficult to conclude that there is only one target, Lord Norman. Please, remain calm.”
Norman’s emotional outburst left Anita confused.
‘He’s far too anxious. Was this not the Grand Duchess’s scheme?’
No, perhaps their alliance didn’t run deep enough for total transparency.
I had felt it since the ceremony started—Lancelot seemed entirely indifferent to whatever Norman and Matilda were blathering about.
Without turning toward them, he addressed Inspector Marc.
“Where is the safest place for Anita?”
“For now, leaving the Duke’s mansion with the police…”
“No. I will stay here.”
The reaction was unexpected. Every gaze in the vicinity snapped toward Anita.
Marc tried to persuade her, his tone that of an adult speaking to a reckless child.
“Ms. Anita—no, my Lady. I understand your anxiety, but the mansion is not safe. The culprit is likely still inside.”
“I’m aware of that.”
Anita scanned Norman and Matilda, then continued in a clear, steady voice.
“Inspector. I suffered assassination threats in Buedort as well. The assassin was even a servant of the Duke’s mansion. Nowhere is safe. This might even be a ploy to lure me out into the open.”
Norman and Matilda stared at her, genuinely surprised.
‘What is this?’
It was unsettling.
Lancelot had insisted the Buedort attempt was undoubtedly carried out under the Grand Duchess’s orders. I had expected at least a flicker of guilt or suspicion from Uncle Norman when I brought it up.
But they wore the faces of people hearing this for the first time.
Was every incident a decision made by the Grand Duchess alone?
At that moment, Lancelot handed something to Anita.
“Keep this.”
It was a gun.
Anita smiled awkwardly and shook her head.
“It’s okay. …I’m already carrying one.”
Lancelot’s eyebrows twitched. Anita brushed her thigh, revealing the outline of the revolver hidden beneath her wedding dress.
“I don’t know what might happen.”
I had packed it just in case. It was an excellent choice.
Lancelot looked at her with an expression beyond words. Subtle shifts in emotion, visible only to her, flickered across his pale face.
It was an emotion closer to anger than surprise.
Soon, two plainclothes officers rushed to Inspector Marc.
“Escort the Duchess to her bedroom. Do not open the door for anyone other than myself or Lord Lancelot.”
“Understood.”
“Lady Matilda? You will go outside the mansion with the Grand Duchess…”
“No. I will move with Anita Boellony.”
Norman looked shocked at the sudden declaration.
“Matilda. Have you lost your mind? The mansion is dangerous!”
“If it were truly that dangerous, would Lancelot bring his wife inside? From where I stand, the safest place is right next to Anita Boellony.”
Lancelot tried to persuade her with an unwavering voice.
“Aunt. Anita is being hunted by an assassin. It is dangerous to be together. Please, follow me out.”
“Is it? You never know. The assassin’s target might have been me, not Anita Boellony.”
It was a pointed suspicion aimed directly at Lancelot.
Before his displeasure could darken the air, Anita stepped in.
“Lancelot. I will look after my Aunt.”
“This isn’t a matter of looking after someone.”
Anita knew what made him uncomfortable.
He, too, suspected that today’s events were the Grand Duchess’s doing. He was worried that Matilda, the Grand Duchess’s loyal subordinate, might try to harm her.
“No. I’m really fine, truly. I haven’t forgotten the meaning of this marriage, Lancelot.”
I know exactly who our enemy is.
Police and a gun.
Anita was not a doll. She was perfectly capable of defending herself from Matilda.
“Let’s move.”
Lancelot didn’t stop her a second time.
I couldn’t tell if he trusted her, or if he simply found it too exhausting to argue. As she stood up, Anita vaguely hoped it wasn’t the latter.
Fortunately, no more shots rang out. Anita and Matilda entered the mansion, escorted by the police.
“Duchess!”
Just as she reached the stairs, a servant who had rushed in from outside called out to stop her.
“Lord Lancelot sent me. He said you would need this set of keys.”
Anita stared blankly at the keys in his hand. The police officer reached for them, but Anita stopped him.
“…Where are these used?”
“He said they open all the doors on the second floor of the main building.”
What is this?
The voice—it wasn’t unfamiliar.
“Who did you say sent you?”
“Lord Lancelot sent me.”
A faint tremor shook the end of every sentence.
‘Whose voice is that?’
Anita didn’t stop asking, desperate to hear the servant’s voice again.
“What is your name?”
“My name is Dane Krock.”
“How old are you?”
The servant looked perplexed but answered diligently.
“I am thirty-one this year.”
Matilda let out a dry, sharp laugh.
“Anita Boellony! What are you doing?”
“Duchess, we must go to the bedroom immediately. Such questions can wait…”
Anita ignored Matilda and the police, her focus entirely on him.
“Dane Krock.”
“Yes?”
“Dane Krock.”
“Yes.”
“Dane Krock.”
“…Duchess. If you have something to say to me…”
How many times had she called his name?
Suddenly, she saw the lines of the servant’s face begin to overlap. A voice, identical yet somehow distorted, echoed in her ears.
[So, did you find the item you were looking for?]
Anita stopped breathing, a cold tension rising to her chin.