12 O'Clock Marionette-Chapter 62

"Siora!"

"Your body isn’t just yours to neglect, Count Bonetti."

"Hah, you really... sigh …I owe you again."

"You were the one who helped me. You didn’t even ask for anything in return. Thanks to you, I was able to catch him."

"If His Grace had stepped in, he would have bolted immediately, wouldn’t he?"

"…"

"Don’t go silent now. That’s annoying."

Minuet let out a deep sigh, brushing back her hair in frustration.

"I hate getting caught off guard, but I hate clinging onto things even more."

"Hmm?"

"So I’ll ask you just once, Siora."

Her green eyes pierced straight through me.

"Are you really Siora Velvet?"

…

I wasn’t as shaken as the first time I heard that question.

But I still couldn’t answer.

And I didn’t feel like deflecting with a joke either.

So, instead, I just looked into Minuet’s eyes and smiled.

That was my answer.

For a moment, silence stretched between us.

Then, as if nothing had happened, Minuet turned away.

"Let’s go back."

"Mm, sis."

"…"

I’m not Siora Velvet.

I’m Siora Bonetti.

Yeah. That’s fine.

***

"Is it done?"

Just like when we left, we returned discreetly to Count Bonetti’s estate, slipping into Minuet’s room.

No need to make a scene.

And yet, somehow, Gavotte immediately came running.

We hadn’t brought him along—his only skill was hiding. I had only borrowed Pianissimo, but judging by his frantic expression, he must have been agonizing over it.

Before even seeing us, he opened his mouth to speak—then his eyes widened so much it looked painful.

"Minuet, you’re injured?"

"Keep it down, Bati. It’s just some blood. I’m not hurt at all."

"Like hell that makes sense!"

It does, if you have divine power.

I watched their sibling bickering with mild amusement—until I noticed something.

"Huh? Gavotte, what happened to your ear?"

"Oh, it’s nothing."

"You’ve got a bandage wrapped around it."

There was a wound at the edge of his left ear.

How did that happen?

Gavotte awkwardly scratched his ear.

"I told you, it’s fine. The new servant was trimming my hair but wasn’t very skilled and nicked me."

"Wow. Just hearing that makes my skin crawl."

"He made such a fuss about it that I wrapped it up, that’s all. It’s barely a scratch."

"Don’t let that guy near you again."

"Obviously."

He responded to Minuet before turning back to me.

"Siora, you worked hard too."

"Huh? Oh. I was expecting you to just say thanks."

"What? Why would I say something like that? We’re family."

His lips curled into a smirk.

It was my usual line, the one I used to tease him.

It caught me off guard.

Gavotte was growing.

"And… I’m sorry."

"What, so now apologies are allowed between family?"

"Well… I don’t know. Maybe because we’re family, I have to say it."

Ah.

He was still bothered by the fact that his father had tried to kill me.

Even though the old man didn’t even get the chance before getting assassinated himself.

Gavotte was the type to overthink things.

Just for his peace of mind, I gave him a small nod.

"Oh, right. His Grace is waiting in the parlor."

"Wait. The duke I know?"

"He arrived about two hours ago. Said he’d wait, so I left him there."

Everyone knew Gavotte hated Cruello, but—

Had his guts grown so much that he could openly snub him like this?

I glanced at Minuet, but she also looked indifferent.

"Two hours? That’s not long at all. Good job."

…Good job?

These two had been quietly nursing resentment toward Cruello, hadn’t they?

Well, he kind of brought it on himself.

I nodded to myself, deciding to dial down my teasing.

Just a little.

This chapt𝙚r is updated by freeωebnovēl.c૦m.

***

I went downstairs and opened the parlor door.

No need to knock—Cruello had obviously sensed my presence.

But unexpectedly, he didn’t acknowledge me at all.

In fact…

"Cruel—huh?"

Cruello was sitting on the sofa, arms crossed, head bowed.

His body was completely still, except for the slow rise and fall of his chest.

I hesitated, then approached him, peering down.

"Wow. You’re seriously sleeping in my parlor?"

It had been so long since I’d seen him asleep.

Was he really that comfortable in Count Bonetti’s estate now?

Even as a child, he had been picky about where he slept. This was… unusual.

"Or maybe not…"

Looking closer, his eyes seemed darker underneath. He looked exhausted.

Minuet had killed Ares, and I had retrieved the key—so why was Cruello the one worn out?

Feeling a strange sense of nostalgia, I gazed at his sleeping face.

His lashes, crescent-shaped like a sliver of moonlight, rested neatly over his closed eyes.

His lips, perfectly shaped, remained tightly shut.

Even when he was little, even now—he always looked so calm when he slept.

I chuckled softly—then immediately pressed my lips together.

Ah.

This felt weird. Really weird.

What was this?

My heart swelled for no reason, out of nowhere.

An emotion I couldn’t name.

I shut my eyes, inhaling deeply.

As always, I forced myself to suppress it.

And once my emotions were properly restrained, I immediately reached for his shoulder.

Time to wake him up.

"Get up, Cruel—"

Before my hand could touch him—

His hand caught mine.

Cruello’s eyelids snapped open.

His pupils dilated for a fleeting moment before slowly contracting back into focus.

I could see the movement so clearly, as if the image had burned itself into my vision.

He had slept just fine while I was loudly talking, but the moment I tried to wake him, he jolted upright.

Obedient. I like that.

I smiled and greeted him.

"Did you sleep well, Cruello?"

"Ah."

For once, he seemed caught off guard. He averted his gaze, albeit briefly.

"I… must have dozed off for a bit."

Letting go of my wrist, he offered a sheepish smile.

"Good morning, darling."

"Morning’s already over."

"Then lunch? I guess I’ll have to eat before I leave."

"Go ahead and eat."

It wasn’t like it was my money paying for the meal, anyway.

I plopped down into the seat across from him.

Maybe it was because I’d been tense all morning, or maybe it was just this body, but my entire body felt sore.

Ugh, I’m exhausted.

I let out a groan and slumped against the backrest.

"So, I assume everything went well?"

"As you can see."

"Honestly, I’m surprised. I expected you to keep your silence till the end, darling."

"I get it. To be honest, it was a bit impulsive."

"We have a lot to talk about."

When Minuet had cornered me, I hadn’t planned on talking.

It wasn’t the kind of story you could just explain, and even knowing about it was dangerous.

"I still believe the White Desert Elders were involved in my father’s death."

"I’m convinced that your test under Marchioness Somon, your secret outings at dawn, even that outfit—all of it is connected."

"If I’m wrong, you don’t have to say a word."

"But if I’m right and you lie about it… then never let me catch you."

She had laid it all out, not even waiting for my response.

And then she had said those words.

They hadn’t been a threat, not exactly.

Just curiosity, maybe.

"And if I get caught lying? What will you do? Banish me from Bonetti?"

"…"

"Minuet?"

"…I wouldn’t be able to do anything."

"What?"

"That’s why I’m just talking like this."

There had been no anger in her voice. No accusations.

Only resignation.

If she had threatened me, or tried to force my hand, I could have just brushed it off.

But that expression—somehow, it made my resolve waver.

Gavotte was one thing, but Minuet—I hadn’t even had enough time to truly bond with her.

When did I start caring so much?

I’ve gotten too soft.

And yet, before I could stop myself, I had spoken.

"I can’t tell you everything. But if just a fragment of the truth is enough for you…"

"…"

"Then I can give you the chance for revenge, Minuet."

She had agreed.

And I had set the stage.

When Ares infiltrated the temple, I had already been waiting in the prayer chamber.

I had used a transmission spell, disguised as a prophecy.

And now, I had the second key in my hands!

See? I did nothing wrong!

Snapping out of my recollection, I lifted my chin with confidence.

"Well, in the end, the results were great, weren’t they? I set the stage for Minuet, prepared the poison, made sure he couldn’t escape—he walked right into it."

Considering how he had fought like a rabid animal even then, it would have been far more dangerous if I had been alone.

And the thought of Cruello helping me instead? Not even considering it.

Anyway.

"And thanks to that, my divine power stayed hidden. I didn’t even have to lift a finge—"

"The longer you talk, the more it sounds like an excuse."

"This is Cruello’s fault."

"Then what about in Whistle? There was no benefit for you, but you still helped."

"What, is this Cruello’s Three Trials? Am I being graded on my performance?"

"I’m not criticizing. Just…"

Cruello crossed his legs, smiling.

"Darling, you always soften at least once. Just not for me."

"What?!"

What the hell is he talking about?!

The person I’ve gone easy on the most in my entire life is Cruello D. White Desert.

If he wanted, I could list every instance from A to Z—but unfortunately, the records were in my previous body.

Unfair!

I glared at him, pouting.

"Well, at least now there’s no need to put distance between you and the Bonetti siblings."

"Huh?"

"Ares is dead. And the Elders don’t have another assassin of his caliber. Any ordinary hitmen should be easy enough for you to handle. Now, darling, you can relax and dote on them all you want."

He was smiling, but it felt like sarcasm.

Was he the twisted one, or was I?

"Right, Cruello. Make sure to be grateful to Minuet. Thanks to her, I got the key."

"…"

"Oh, speaking of which."

I reached into my pocket and pulled out two keys.

"Cruello, you should hold onto these."