12 O’Clock Marionette

Chapter 29

Minuet Bonetti stared at me with a blank expression.

Did she hear everything?

One question led to another.

Did she already know about the Count’s crimes?

Judging by how she had so easily spoken about cutting off Viscount Genum before, she couldn’t be completely innocent.

Maybe… she had even supported it.

Minuet finally spoke.

"If you’re done, move."

"…Alright."

I forced my feet to move.

As I passed her, she suddenly asked:

"Is it true?"

Her voice wavered, ever so slightly.

So she hadn’t known everything.

"Why don’t you find out for yourself?"

I shrugged and walked away.

Not a sound followed.

No knock on the office door.

No footsteps inside.

Nothing.

***

"AAARGH!"

Count Bonetti let out a furious roar, sweeping everything off his desk.

The whites of his eyes were streaked with red, and veins bulged against his skin.

Why?

How could Siora possibly know his secrets?

Why had Cruello been so careless with his words?

"Hhh…"

No—the reason didn’t matter.

He clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white, then slammed them against the desk.

The Duke of White Desert was unavoidable. But Siora?

She had spent her entire life locked away—an ignorant child who knew nothing of the world.

Someone who could be easily swayed and just as easily slip up.

And yet she had dared to threaten him?

"How dare she!"

The fact that she had the audacity to blackmail him made him even angrier.

He had saved her from the streets, and this was how she repaid him?

Tch. Dirty blood will always be dirty blood.

"If I let her be, she’ll only get greedier."

It was obvious what would happen next.

Money. Power. Status.

Wasn’t that what all humans craved?

Killing her would be the easiest solution, but that wasn’t an option.

If Siora died, the engagement with Duke White Desert would be reset.

And if that happened, his own daughter would be forced into the engagement instead—something that would only create bigger problems.

But he also couldn’t allow Siora to marry Cruello.

Once White Desert was attached to her name, even he—the Count—wouldn’t be able to touch her.

As he reached that conclusion, the answer became clear.

Yes. That was it.

"The engagement ceremony will be perfect."

If he planned it well, no one would even suspect a thing.

The Duke might catch on, but it didn’t matter.

After all, he was just playing along for fun—his interest would fade soon enough.

A sinister glint flashed in the Count’s eyes.

***

The White Desert Elder Council

"The engagement date has been set."

Cruello spoke calmly.

The Grand Elder, Heorim, frowned.

"Did you not promise to follow this old man’s wishes?"

"You did as you pleased," Cruello replied indifferently. "But you failed."

"…And what exactly is your reason? Don’t tell me I’m supposed to believe those ridiculous rumors about love?"

"The rumors are true."

"Ha. Ha-ha-ha."

The Grand Elder let out a disbelieving laugh.

Then, without warning, he hooked his cane around Cruello’s collar and yanked him forward.

His voice dropped to a growl, like a beast snarling at its prey.

"Come to your senses. A Duke’s engagement is not a child’s game."

"Try to understand, Elder."

"You—!"

With a sharp movement, Heorim shoved his cane against Cruello’s chest and pushed him back.

But the young Duke stood still, completely unfazed.

Not even a flicker of emotion crossed his face.

Heorim glared, searching for any sign of weakness.

But Cruello’s expression revealed nothing.

"Think carefully, Grand Elder. The Duke’s brainwashing has already been undone."

Julian Minerva.

That foolish brat had spoken those words once.

And the entire Elder Council had laughed in his face.

Because that was something only someone ignorant of dark magic could say.

Cruello’s conditioning had begun long ago.

It had started when he was a small child—

The day he killed his own parents.

And slaughtered every single servant who had been close to him.

When the child suffered a great shock, his weakened mind became vulnerable—and in that moment, the conditioning took hold.

For years, the brainwashing process was reinforced, shaping him into the perfect vessel.

But it had never been done just to torment him.

It was all for Morion.

The great and terrible power required more than just a suitable vessel. The host’s very essence had to be adjusted to match it.

Endless misfortune. Unrelenting despair. Hatred, fear, and scorn from others.

These negative emotions perfected Cruello.

The brainwashing had merely been a byproduct of that process.

But even if it was a byproduct, it was still strong.

Properly undoing it should have taken years—which was why the Elders had kept Cruello under strict control, never allowing him near the temple.

So how had that control been broken?

"Do I have to acknowledge it now?"

Cruello’s recent actions had been far too strange.

As a sorcerer, Heorim found himself burning with curiosity, trying to understand where things had gone wrong.

But curiosity aside, there was something far more urgent to address.

"Even if the brainwashing has been undone, it doesn’t matter."

Heorim slowly stroked his beard, calming his tone.

"If that is truly your wish, then so be it."

"Grand Elder."

"You have always followed our wishes well. So this time, I will trust your judgment."

Cruello stared at him for a moment, then inclined his head.

"Thank you, Grand Elder. I won’t forget this."

"Then go."

The Grand Elder watched him leave, his eyes turning cold.

If the brainwashing was undone, they would simply do it again.

All they needed was a way to shatter his mind once more.

And if he had someone he cared about—

That would make it even easier.

"It’s time to give the Nine Elders something to do."

A final chance to make up for the failure at the Harvest Festival.

Not that failure was even an option this time.

Exhaling a frigid breath, Heorim turned to the calendar.

"The engagement ceremony will be perfect."

***

For a while, I lived like an overly enthusiastic scholar.

Mansion. Imperial Library. Mansion. Grand Temple Library.

Aside from sleep, I spent every moment buried in ancient theology books.

It wasn’t just that the last discovery unsettled me—

I needed to verify what the outside world actually knew about Pebula.

And in doing so, I realized something.

Compared to other ancient gods, there was shockingly little information on our faith.

Was it because of the sacrifice rumors?

Had people been too disgusted to even document it?

I briefly entertained the thought.

"Did you find anything useful today?"

Someone whispered by my ear.

I didn’t even flinch.

Cruello.

"Of course not."

I closed the book with zero enthusiasm.

That had been the last one.

"The temple library was the same, wasn’t it—"

"Shh, be quiet."

I pressed a finger against his lips.

No need to remind me of that infuriating fact.

His eyes narrowed, but I pretended not to notice.

Sliding the book aside, I stood up and left the library.

"You said physical contact was only acceptable up to murder. But you’re awfully casual with me."

"Hm? Murder is the highest level of intimacy, though."

"Oh? So if I do the same—"

"Sorry! I apologize. I was wrong."

"……Am I that repulsive?"

Cruello drooped his eyes, looking strangely dejected.

His acting skills had improved.

It wasn’t that I hated it or found it disgusting.

His personality was a nightmare, but his looks were undeniable.

But… it was ticklish in a way I couldn’t explain.

I had never been physically close to anyone like this before.

And he had been around since childhood.

Even if it was just for show, it still made me feel guilty.

"So, what is it this time?"

Cruello had been seeking me out far too often lately.

Half of him probably wanted to fuel the rumors, and the other half was likely preventing an ambush.

Or maybe…

Even that was just another act.

The Elders had been surprisingly quiet so far, but with the engagement ceremony approaching, they were likely watching even more closely.

And yet, his answer never changed.

"Because I wanted to see you."

Today was no different.

"I came to ask you out on a date."

…Huh?

"If a person suddenly starts acting out of character, it means they’re about to die."

And yet Cruello was doing something completely normal.

He had taken me to a public park on the outskirts of the capital.

Well-maintained, but not exactly a place for people with money or power.

Which meant we stood out—a lot.

I walked alongside him, trying to figure out his motives.

"Did someone say an assassination was going to happen here?"

"No."

"An underground meeting, then?"

"No."

"You came to check if someone you buried here is still alive?"

"Darling."

Cruello suddenly stopped.

"I get your preferences, but today, follow mine."

"…Huh?"

"I just want to enjoy a peaceful moment."

He must have come here to get insulted.

The place where he stopped was in front of a large fountain.

A white marble statue of a winged horse reared onto its hind legs, water gushing from its horn, forming a circular veil.

"This fountain honors Grandier, the God of Love."

"Ah, his divine form was a white horse, right?"

"There’s a legend that lovers blessed by Grandier will love each other forever."

He gave a short laugh.

"Funny how that church disappeared, though."

How nice.

Turning ancient gods into tourist attractions.

Grandier must be rolling in his grave.

The water droplets, scattering in the sunlight, almost looked like tears.

I stared at them for a moment before turning back to Cruello.

He extended his hand toward me.

And in his other hand—

Something glowed purple.

"Cruello?"

"Give me your hand, darling."

"…Oh."

A little dazed, I held out my hand.

Cruello slipped a ring onto my fourth finger.

A purple diamond, cut into an almond shape, glimmered under the sunlight.

I had known I would receive an engagement ring around this time, but…

The way he gave it to me—so casually—felt strangely out of place.

"So, will we love each other forever too?"

"…Cruello. Have you been replaced? Say the password."

"For our eternal love."

Spy!

I took two steps back, glaring at him.

Cruello burst into laughter.

I had a few choice words ready for him, but—

Something felt off.

"…Cruello."

"I know."

Still smiling, he grabbed my arm and pulled me toward him.

Thud!

An arrow struck the ground right where I had been standing.

And that was only the beginning.

A sharp whistling sound cut through the air—

More arrows.

They rained down like a storm, slicing through the wind.

I tried to pinpoint where they were coming from, but without extending my senses, it was difficult to tell.

Yet even while holding onto me, Cruello dodged every single one with ease.

The way he moved, it almost looked like he was dancing—

If not for the deadly sound of arrows cutting through the air.

That aside—

"Why are we just running in circles around the fountain? Is there something you’re protecting?"

"Do you trust me?"

Suddenly?

"If not, oh well."

Without waiting for my answer, Cruello snapped his fingers.

The fountain’s water surged into the air, swelling like an umbrella over us.

Was he trying to block their view?

Just as I was thinking that—

"Hold your breath."

Cruello wrapped his arm around my waist—

And jumped straight into the fountain.