12 O'Clock Marionette-Chapter 51

Julian feigned concern as he looked at me.

“I can’t help but think about it now and then, especially after that joke you made last time.”

The one where I flatly denied that Cruello was treating me well?

He was still thinking about that? Should I call him perceptive or just persistent?

This time, however, I could answer much more smoothly.

“Of course, he treats me well.”

“I see… Still…”

He gave me a strange smile.

A sudden gust of wind blew past, ruffling my hair.

Julian reached out naturally toward me.

“There’s a leaf in your hair.”

Gently, he plucked it away, his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

Why is he so invested in smiling like that?

“I should have properly thanked you earlier, Siora. I appreciate what you did at the court ball.”

“For what?”

“The snake wine I was carrying still had a live snake in it. Thanks to your warning, I avoided being bitten.”

“Snake wine? You were carrying something like that?”

What the hell?

Why would someone bring snake wine to a ballroom?

He’s a truly bizarre person.

Daedire chimed in.

“When you put it like that, it does sound highly suspicious.”

“I already told you, Daedi. It was a gift.”

“But gifts are usually chosen with the recipient’s taste in mind… Ah, never mind. I suppose it could be your taste, Julian.”

“It is not my taste.”

“Oh, of course, of course.”

“……Then, Siora, what kind of snake were you referring to back then?”

Do you really need me to spell it out?

I had openly discussed the key and Nigellia that morning—

Could it be that Julian was just a pawn among pawns, not even privy to basic information?

Testing the waters, I spoke lightly.

“I read an article about how the streets have been seeing more snakes lately.”

“Oh… I see.”

Though his reaction was mild, for a brief moment, irritation flickered in his eyes.

He believed me.

So he really didn’t know.

Well, of course, the Elder Council wouldn’t trust a kid like Gavotte, let alone him.

With my suspicions eased, I found myself looking at the two of them with a much more innocent gaze.

“Uh, well, um!”

As if reminding me that this was a four-person table, the long-ignored Lady Dory Wund, the fourth guest, finally spoke up.

However, just as she opened her mouth, a strong gust of wind blew, nearly flipping the tablecloth.

Startled, she banged her knee against the table, spilling several teacups and sending liquid splashing everywhere.

“Lady Wund, are you alright?”

“S-Sorry! I’ll just go fix my clothes!”

Lady Dory Wund hurried off, following her maid.

As other servants began tidying up the mess, the conversation naturally came to a halt.

“Did you get hurt, Siora? Your hands seem a little wet.”

Julian pulled a handkerchief from his pocket.

Then, without hesitation, he took my fingers and wiped the spilled tea from them.

A few of the glances thrown our way subtly shifted.

That meant it wasn’t just my imagination, right?

“Julian, are you seriously trying to pull off a cheap seduction—”

“My apologies for the commotion.”

My well-aimed retort was cut short.

Lady Dory Wund had already returned.

…That was fast.

Even with multiple attendants helping me, I always took forever to change clothes.

Impressive.

I looked at her in mild admiration, but she simply smiled.

“Please, continue your conversation.”

Wait.

Wasn’t she nervous and stuttering earlier?

And that smile…

It looked completely different from before.

It looked like Cruello’s smile.

Something felt off, but there was no way she had suddenly been swapped out for someone else, right?

“……”

…Right?

“Lady Siora, you were about to say something just now, weren’t you?”

“Huh? Oh, uh…”

“I believe you mentioned the word ‘seduction’?”

“Oh, that. Yes, I was just saying that Julian is attractive enough to use seduction if he wanted to.”

I responded without much thought, too distracted by the doubts swirling in my head.

I kept my eyes fixed on Lady Dory Wund.

Logically speaking, Cruello turning into Dory Wund and sneaking in was ridiculous.

There was no solid evidence, but my gut was screaming at me.

And if—just if—this was Cruello, what did that mean for the test?

“If the test requires working alone, then…”

Would this count as disqualification?

“Excuse me? Are you saying Julian is so bad at seduction that he should be disqualified?”

“No, no, of course not. Julian has more than enough charm.”

“You must really like Viscount Minerva’s looks, then.”

Seamlessly, Lady Dory Wund inserted herself into the conversation.

No matter how I thought about it, she was acting far too differently from before.

Narrowing my eyes, I studied her—or him?

She blinked back at me innocently.

Let’s test this.

“By the way, earlier, you said you liked Baeders tea leaves the most, right?”

“Of course. The distinct bitterness is part of its charm.”

Yeah.

That’s not Lady Dory Wund.

I was certain now.

Cruello had used transformation magic to sneak in.

There was something I had heard about transformation magic before.

"What kind of transformation magic doesn’t break when you die? Even a strong breeze can undo it."

That had been Qudil’s last words.

At the time, I dismissed it as irrelevant since I wasn’t planning to alter any records.

But this tea party was being held outdoors, and there had already been a few strong gusts of wind.

That was just a metaphor, right?

…Right?

Or was this disguise about to fall apart any second now?

“But what does Viscount Minerva have to do with tea leaves?”

Cruello, pretending to be unaware of my suspicions, pushed for an answer.

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For now, I had no choice but to play along.

“Oh, you asked if I found him attractive? Of course. I do have eyes, after all.”

“You flatter me. I assumed that, given your fiancé, my face would seem rather ordinary to you.”

“Ah, well…”

Compared to Cruello, it really was like a firefly before the sun.

But I wasn’t about to lose my mind and start praising someone else’s face in front of Cruello.

“I’ve heard some people say it’s the kind of face worthy of being recorded in history books.”

…Wait.

Did Julian secretly like Cruello?

I glanced between the two of them with a peculiar expression.

Daedire nodded in agreement.

“That’s why they say you don’t even need to spend a single coin to have an enjoyable date.”

“…Excuse me?”

“Oh, don’t misunderstand. There’s a rumor that His Grace enjoys rather modest outings.”

At first, I thought it was nonsense.

But after thinking about it… it did make some sense.

A puppet theater, the Bonetti estate, the Harvest Festival, a fountain park, a library—most of the places I had met Cruello were rather simple.

Was that why people started calling him stingy?

I glanced at Cruello, only to see his expression had lost its amusement.

Uh-oh.

I quickly ducked my head.

“Lady Siora?”

Oh no, did I just make it look like I was heartbroken?

But what could I do?

Calling Cruello stingy—claiming he deliberately picked only free dates—was the funniest thing I had ever heard.

This was the same man who put an outrageously expensive magic artifact on my finger and included ridiculous clauses in our marriage contract.

I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing and barely managed to raise my head.

“No, it’s just—ha—he does enjoy simple dates.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“But if there’s also a rumor that he’s frugal, that’s a misunderstanding. I’ve received plenty from him.”

“You mean that ring on your finger?”

“Yes. This ring and…”

Come to think of it, there wasn’t anything else.

It’d be awkward to mention the antidote for monster poison.

But gifts weren’t just physical objects. Fine, I’ll fix his reputation a bit.

“I also received an enormous sum of money.”

A collective gasp echoed around us.

They weren’t even trying to hide the fact that they were eavesdropping.

“…Money?”

“Yes. A sum so massive it would shock you.”

Technically, it was more of a commission fee, and I hadn’t even received it yet—but if I put it this way, maybe he’d give me even more.

Then the entire room fell eerily silent.

So quiet, I could actually hear faint murmuring.

“…The duke is paying her to meet him?”

“Well, it is that duke. It’d be dangerous to see him without some hazard pay.”

“So the rumors that he’s desperately clinging to her must be true.”

Oh.

Was this a socially incompetent thing to say?

Feeling the tension shift, I tried to backtrack.

“I was just joking.”

That was when Dory Wund—or rather, Cruello—cut in.

“Even if it weren’t a joke, it wouldn’t be unreasonable. You should be compensated. After all, your fiancé is far from ordinary.”

It was obvious he wasn’t trying to help me.

For those who didn’t know the details, the atmosphere turned even colder.

Everyone was probably thinking Lady Wund had lost her mind.

Whatever. Let my reputation crumble.

I parted my lips to say something else but gave up and decided to drink my tea instead.

“…Oh.”

I had already finished it.

I glanced around, looking for a servant to refill my cup.

Julian beat me to it, calling a nearby maid.

“Bring another pot brewed with Baeders tea leaves.”

“Yes, please wait a moment.”

Wait, that was Cruello’s preference, not mine!

I hate bitterness.

But criticizing the tea served to me would be impolite, so I kept my mouth shut.

Julian accepted the teapot and poured a fresh cup for me.

The liquid filled my empty cup with a deep, distinct color, easy to differentiate from other blends.

I hadn’t expected to drink this again.

Suppressing a sigh, I stared at the tea, trying to recall something nagging at my memory.

Where had I last had this tea?

It wasn’t recent…

Julian held the cup out to me.

“Please, enjoy.”

“Ah, thank you.”

I’ll just take a sip and leave it at that.

I grasped the handle and lifted the cup.

But before I could take a sip—

Thunk.

Someone abruptly stood, gripping my wrist.

“…Lady Wund?”

It was Cruello.

Even though he was wearing someone else’s face, his original self seemed to be showing through.

His expression was…

“Don’t drink it.”

“…Ah.”

And then, it hit me.

I remembered exactly where I had last had this tea.

"Roy, your tea looks better. I’ll drink yours instead."

More than a decade ago.

It was the poisoned tea I drank in Cruello’s place.