12 O’Clock Marionette

Chapter 11

Cruello boarded the returning carriage.

Bending his long legs, he leaned against the seat as the wheels rolled forward at a slow pace.

Taking out a cigarillo, he sliced off the tip with a cutter.

The flame ignited at his fingertips, transferring onto the cigarillo as he brought it to his lips.

"The Elders actually made a move."

Strangely enough, no one had died, but the intent was undeniable.

In other words, the White Desert Elders’ malice toward Siora Bonetti was beyond question.

Siora Bonetti.

Cruello pictured the woman in his mind.

A stunning beauty with golden hair, as if she existed solely to irritate him.

She had approached Minuet Bonetti, volunteering to take on the troublesome engagement in her place.

There were no records of her before that—yet for someone who had supposedly been secluded in the mansion, she was surprisingly bright and well-informed.

That was why Cruello believed someone had created the identity of Siora.

That her existence had been fabricated—someone had tampered with records, forged adoption papers under Wendy and Melos Velvet, and inserted her into their lives.

Amused by the Grand Elder’s excessive outrage, he couldn’t help but suspect—

What if that old man was just pretending?

What if the Elders themselves were the ones who had orchestrated Siora’s existence and were now attempting to weave her into his life?

But since he had just confirmed that this wasn’t the case, it was time to look elsewhere.

The most likely suspect behind the real Siora’s backers was—

"The temple, perhaps."

The Elders' origins lay in a necromancer sect, and it wouldn’t be unusual for the temple to plant spies within them.

With the Harvest Festival approaching, it might be a good opportunity to use their influence.

To do so, he would have to solidify the engagement.

He had deliberately delayed giving a definitive answer, pretending to weigh his options—he needed time to investigate.

But if the Elders weren’t behind Siora, then there was no reason to refuse anymore.

‘I’ll have to set the right terms.’

He took a deep drag from the cigarillo.

***

A mountain of gifts piled high.

Each and every one bore the same recipient’s name—Siora Bonetti.

"What is all this, Betty?"

"They’re from the guests who attended the party."

"Nina Holmaze?"

"She sent the most, but also Lady Catherine Point, Baron Shaun Herbert, and…"

Huh, these names sound familiar.

Could it be that stealing their wine made them fond of me? My irresistible charm truly knows no bounds.

"That amethyst brooch is from Sir William Labyrinth."

"Oh? Looks expensive."

Sir Labyrinth—the man whose face had turned red after being accidentally exposed to monster venom at the party.

I straightened my shoulders proudly.

"See? He totally fell for me."

"Cough!"

Across from me, Gavotte choked on his tea.

Still unwilling to accept it, he muttered,

"…That’s ridiculous."

Ever since that chaotic night, Gavotte had been visiting me more often.

I, being the generous person I am, tolerated his presence.

After all, nothing is as reliable a shield as personal connections.

His influence was about as significant as a hamster’s paw jelly, but still—

"Hey, why don’t you just pick someone else?"

"Pick someone else?"

"Anyone would be better than the Duke."

"Tsk, dear brother. Be careful what you say. There are listening ears."

"It’s just Betty."

"Exactly! Betty is here!"

The very person planted as Minuet’s spy.

Betty let out an awkward laugh before slipping out of the room.

"Are you really going to marry him?"

"Still can’t let it go, can you, Gavotte? My surname is already Bonetti."

"Cut the weird speech pattern. Fine, let’s assume the adoption was legitimate."

Oh? Look at that—connections really are everything.

"But why go through with the engagement? Just refuse."

"I’d probably get kicked out."

"Do you think disownment is that easy?"

"Then maybe an assassin could just—slice—."

"Hey!"

Gavotte practically jumped out of his seat.

Why was he acting so naive? He should be more accustomed to noble affairs than I am.

Well, to be fair, his plan to break the engagement wasn’t completely impossible.

I still didn’t know what conditions Cruello had set.

And there was no way the Elders, who had nearly resorted to mass murder, would give up just because their first attempt had failed.

Hmm, the Elders were probably behind this, right?

But then, Julian Minerva.

What was his deal?

The circumstantial evidence, my instincts, and even Cruello’s reaction all pointed to the Elders being responsible, yet his name was the only one that stood out.

He had never been mentioned in The Book of Fate.

Was he merely a disposable pawn, or was this a butterfly effect caused by my actions?

I needed more information.

I gave Gavotte a sidelong glance.

"So, who exactly is Julian Minerva?"

"What? What?"

"Ah, I was just thinking it, but I said it out loud. Sorry, Gavotte. Don’t mind me."

"You made it pretty obvious on purpose."

Had my acting been lacking?

I’ll reflect on that.

"You said you were classmates at the academy, were you close?"

"Not at all."

"Then..."

Wait a second?

"Yeah, since you’re the victim, I guess I should tell you too. We weren’t exactly on good terms. He was a real jerk."

"..."

"But I didn’t expect him to randomly poison people at the party."

"..."

"If he really did it on his own, the motive is probably because of his jealousy toward the Duke. He had a complex when we were at the academy…"

"Are you listening?"

Gavotte mumbled on, but his words barely reached me.

We weren’t close at all, but I knew him well enough to catch onto his habits.

When you combine that with the dark atmosphere from that day—

"First love? Did he get rejected by you, Gavotte?"

"What...?"

Gavotte's face turned pale.

A look of disbelief spread across his features.

But soon after, his face flushed bright red.

Gotcha!

"Siora Bonetti!"

"Huh?"

"There are things you can and can’t say in this world. What’s going on?"

Wait, maybe not.

Gavotte’s face was now filled with devilish rage.

As I began to inch toward the door, I heard Betty’s voice from outside.

"Miss Siora, the Duke is here to see you."

"Oh! A guest has arrived. I’ll go see them, Gavotte."

"Hey! Don’t just stand there! Siora Bonetti, hey!"

Hearing his booming voice, I quickly fled.

What a surprise.

***

In the reception room of the Bonetti mansion.

The man was leisurely seated with his legs crossed.

Cruello was surprisingly welcoming—it had been a while.

I greeted him with a smile.

"It’s been just a day, but it’s so good to see you."

"If I came too often, would it lose its charm?"

"No way! I’m just eager to get married as soon as possible."

"I’m glad we’re on the same page, darling. That’s why I came."

Cruello handed me a document.

"I came to move things along."

"This is..."

"The conditions I mentioned before."

The document was a bit unclear, but I started reading it.

There were a lot of complicated clauses, but the one that stood out was this:

"A may demand a divorce from B at any time, and B shall not refuse. In this case, A will pay B an alimony from items 1 to 15 on their asset list."

A was Cruello, and I was B.

In other words, Cruello could ask for a divorce anytime he wanted.

Hmm.

"Your Highness, do you have a hidden lover?"

"I don’t think so."

"Then what is this clause?"

"It’s just something I’m working through. Do you want to read the rest?"

Well, I might as well.

Flipping through the rest of the pages, the last item was a list of Cruello’s assets.

Starting from the top...

"1. August (White Desert Duchy)."

I blinked.

Was I reading that right? I slowly brought my face closer to the paper, until my eyelashes touched the surface.

When the text didn’t change, I slowly pulled the paper away from my face.

It was still there.

"Darling, what are you doing?"

"Are you mad?"

"Did you not know?"

I felt betrayed.

There was no way a self-aware madman could be beaten.

"So, you're saying if you ask for a divorce, you’re giving away the duchy?"

"The title, the land, and even the capital."

"Wait... is that even possible?"

"Well, I guess that's why you had the contract drawn up."

It seemed like the Council of Elders had absolutely no say in this possibility.

It felt... uneasy.

I was very tempted, but that's what made it feel uneasy.

This felt like a sign that I was being tricked.

Despite that, I had to marry Cruello, though...

"I’ll take it as your statement that you’ll never ask for a divorce."

Cruello didn’t affirm it, but he smiled.

It was as though he was desperate to hand over his family’s legacy to an outsider.

...That might be exactly what he wants.

"You’ve read everything, right? I was hoping we could get the signatures soon."

"Hmm, I will. But I have some conditions too."

"What are they?"

"Let’s get married quickly."

Cruello squinted and smiled slyly.

"Getting married faster won’t make the divorce happen faster."

"What do you mean?"

"I’ve heard you have quite a thirst for money."

"I don’t!"

"Then what's the reason?"

I wanted to shout, Because I need to legally investigate the Duchy!

I couldn’t just say that.

"Actually, I have a lifelong dream... well, more like a fantasy."

"A fantasy about divorce?"

"No, I want to live in a castle for a while."

I pressed on, ignoring his comment.

For something I came up with on the spot, it sounded pretty convincing.

Even if the duchy was a stinky necromancer’s den, on the outside, it had to look grand and beautiful.

"Of course, the duchy is nice, but still, the castle—"

"You probably won’t need to go to the castle."

"What? If I’m the Duchess, I’ll have to visit the estate. I could even follow you on your patrols."

"I think Qudil took care of the patrols. I’ve never left except when I inherited the title."

"Maybe for a health trip?"

"The temple is far away, and the magic stone mines aren’t exactly the healthiest environment. It’s not terrible, though."

Really?

Then, why get married?

I stared at Cruello, mouth agape.

He let out a dry laugh.

"You’re serious, aren’t you? If you’re that curious, we can get engaged and I’ll take you there. You’re not banned from entering."

"You should’ve said that earlier!"

"Haha."

"Can I stay there?"

"There’s as much space as you want."

I signed the contract right away.

Cruello nodded with a satisfied expression.

I felt a weight lift off my shoulders and slumped against the back of the sofa.

"Darling, there’s something you’ll need to help with."

"Is it something besides signing?"

"I’m guessing you’ve figured it out, but the Council of Elders is pretty strongly opposed."

Oh, I didn’t expect him to be so direct about it.

"It’s easy to ignore them, but it could get tricky."

"Are you telling me to keep my behavior in check?"

"No, I’m trying to set the mood for something."

Hmm?

Cruello took a sip of his tea.

"Darling, have you been to the Harvest Festival?"

"The Harvest Festival...?"

"You don’t know it?"

"Oh, I know it!"

It’s not like I’ve been out of the loop for years!

I started sharing what I knew to prove my innocence.

The Harvest Festival.

It was a festival hosted by the royal family in connection with the Magic Tower.

A huge magic circle was drawn in Super Plaza in the capital, and they showcased all sorts of magic powered by it.

During the day, the royal court orchestra played music, and at night, wandering bards sang of the great deeds of famous individuals.

The royal knights paraded through the plaza in their uniforms.

There were over 120 booths selling food, and there were small plays or folk dances too.

It was a huge money sink, but it was all a scheme to flaunt the nobility’s superiority and reinforce the caste system...

"It’s interesting, but how long do I have to attend these Harvest Festival lectures?"