Crash!
The door flew open with violent force, snapping Rita out of her spiraling thoughts. On pure reflex, she wheeled around, gathering Od at her fingertips to conjure a magic bullet.
“You worthless fraud!”
A red-haired man barged into the room. Rita had never laid eyes on him before, but she pieced together who he was in an instant.
He carried the same violet eyes and defined jawline as Leonhart. But while Leonhart projected an air of aristocratic restraint, this man’s rugged good looks bordered on wild.
Richard del Nissa Laskail. House Laskail’s second son. Right now, pure venom burned in his eyes as he glared at her.
“So you’re the imposter who nearly choked a maid to death? Didn’t take you long to drop the act and show your true—”
His tirade died in his throat. His eyes stretched wide, all color draining from his expression until it turned completely blank. In a dazed murmur, he let out a breathless word.
“…Lili?”
Rita said nothing. In truth, she couldn’t muster an answer.
The oath she had sworn in Lilietta’s name had actually held. The realization still shook her to her core, shattering every certainty she clung to. She could neither deny that identity nor bring herself to accept it.
Richard stumbled toward her. As he drew near, Rita flinched from the suffocating reek of alcohol pouring off him.
He was completely hammered.
Rita had never been a drinker herself, but she knew the symptoms all too well. Ollie Pascal—her close companion, a brilliant mage and gunsmith—drank like a fish. Watching Ollie had taught her that once someone reeked that badly, trying to hold a coherent conversation was utterly hopeless.
Getting that bludgeoned by liquor was the only time Ollie ever made a fool of herself.
True to form, Richard’s knees gave out, and he crumpled straight to the floor in front of her.
“I’m sorry.”
“—?”
Wasn’t this the very man who had stormed in shrieking that she was a fraud? Why was he begging for forgiveness?
Rita stood frozen in utter disbelief as Richard, kneeling at her feet, dissolved into ragged sobs.
“I’m so sorry, Lili. It’s all my fault…”
He wept like an inconsolable child, the words tumbling out between breathless heaves.
“All you did… all you did was ask me to stay by your side until you fell asleep. You never asked for anything, but I turned you away. I told you to go to bed by yourself. I was tired, and I just didn’t want to be bothered. What kind of brother does that? I should have checked on you… God, I should have looked in on you just once… I’m disgusting…”
He reached out a trembling hand toward her, shaking with far more than just tremors from drink.
“Lili… you have no idea how that night has haunted me. You couldn’t know. I’d give anything to go back and undo it. I really would. I could have stopped it. I could have saved you. But… some things in this world can never be taken back. I had to learn that the hard way. I… I’m so…”
Clutching the hem of her nightgown, Richard broke down entirely.
“I’m sorry, Lili… I’m so sorry…”
Rita stood rigid, unable to bring herself to shake off his desperate grip. He had kicked the door open, roared accusations at her, lost his train of thought, and collapsed into gut-wrenching tears of remorse—all within a matter of moments.
He was completely out of his mind.
Half of what spilled from his lips made no sense to her anymore. Rita let the magic bullet fizzle out from her fingertips and looked down at the weeping wreck kneeling before her, thoroughly at a loss.
“Master Richard!”
Another figure hurried through the kicked-open doorway. Having adapted to her awakened senses, Rita had tracked his approach by the ambient Od long before he appeared, so she didn’t startle.
A man in his late thirties entered, sporting a crisp, tailored uniform and a monocle over one eye. His immaculate livery and the deferential way he called out to Richard marked him as the Laskail family butler.
Flustered when he burst in, the man grew visibly more mortified the moment he saw Rita. He straightened his posture at once and bowed low.
“Forgive the intrusion, Milady. It is an honor to meet you. I am Alfred, butler to House Laskail.”
“Uwaaagh… I’m sorry, Lili… I’m nothing but trash…”
“…My deepest apologies that our first introduction must take place under such… unfortunate circumstances.”
Alfred nudged his monocle back into alignment and discreetly dabbed a bead of sweat from his forehead. Rita let out an exhausted sigh and pointed down at the bawling Richard.
“A pleasure, Alfred. Can you do something about him? I’m pretty sure he’s completely plastered.”
“Right away, Milady. If you will permit it…”
At Alfred’s subtle gesture, a cadre of burly servants filed into the room. They crept cautiously toward the wailing young master. One of them unstoppered a liquor bottle, wafting the aroma under Richard’s nose like bait before taking slow, deliberate steps backward toward the threshold.
“…!”
Catching the scent, Richard rose and swayed after it. The servants carefully flanked him, ushering him along and guiding him out the doorway. Soon enough, the hallway quieted, leaving only Alfred behind.
What on earth was that? Were they corralling an animal?
Rita blinked in utter bewilderment. Picking up on her confusion, Alfred offered an earnest explanation.
“Master Richard is a first-class knight. He is capable of manifesting aura with his bare hands. If we do not coax him into walking on his own, restraining him becomes exceedingly hazardous for everyone involved.”
“So you used alcohol as bait? And that actually works on a grown person?”
“When he is in that condition, it is remarkably effective. Truly, it is the safest measure we have.”
The resigned calm in his voice suggested this was far from the first time they had herded Richard out of a room.
So he was an incorrigible drunkard. How did an esteemed knight, someone meant to embody discipline and honor, fall this far?
She clicked her tongue in quiet dismay. Reading the judgment in her eyes, Alfred spoke up once more.
“Please do not judge him too harshly, Milady. Master Richard was not always like this.”
“He wasn’t?”
“He never touched a single drop of liquor in the past. Everything fell apart the night you vanished. The guilt has consumed him ever since.”
“…!”
“On the night Lady Lilietta went missing, she came to his room. She told him she had suffered a terrible nightmare and pleaded with him to stay beside her until she drifted to sleep. Their Graces were away attending a grand ball that evening, and Leonhart was residing at the academy. There was no one else in the manor—only Master Richard.”
Alfred’s tone was gentle, tempered by the knowledge that Rita had no memory of the past.
“Master Richard was exhausted, however, and dismissed her pleas. She returned to her bedchamber alone. That was the last time anyone ever saw Lady Lilietta before she vanished into thin air.”
Rita finally understood the disjointed apologies Richard had blubbered through his tears.
“Master Richard has lived under the crushing weight of that night for ten long years. In the end, the remorse tore him apart. He sought solace in the bottle, and matters only deteriorated from there.”
A quiet, sorrowful sigh slipped from the butler’s lips.
“We have barred all spirits from the castle grounds. Yet he remains a first-class knight; we possess neither the authority nor the strength to bar him from riding into town to drink.”
“…”
“Yet perhaps hope remains. Now that you have miraculously returned to us, Milady… perhaps Birch Castle will finally know laughter once more.”
Alfred’s gaze warmed with profound emotion and newfound hope as he looked upon her. He bowed from the waist once more.
“Lady Lilietta, allow me to offer my most heartfelt welcome. Thank you… from the bottom of our hearts, thank you for coming back home.”
“…”
Rita had no words to offer. Her mind was in complete disarray.
“I understand your memories have not returned, leaving you bewildered. Please, take all the rest you require. If there is anything you desire or wish to know, do not hesitate to summon us.”
Bestowing a gentle, understanding smile upon her, the butler turned toward the threshold. But before he crossed it, Rita called out to his back.
“Alfred, wait.”
“Yes, Milady?”
“There’s something I need to ask.”
“Please, speak freely.”
“Lilietta… What kind of child was I?”
Alfred paused. He adjusted his monocle, his eyes drifting downward with hesitation.
“Forgive me, Milady. I am afraid I cannot answer that.”
“Why not?”
“I was not serving here in those days. I took over the stewardship of House Laskail only after your disappearance. Back then, my father served as butler, while I was pursuing my studies abroad.”
“So your father was the butler then? Wouldn’t he remember? Couldn’t you just ask—?”
“My father…”
Alfred shut his eyes briefly before reopening them, heavy with grief.
“Following your disappearance, my father was overcome with self-reproach. He resigned his post and passed away not long after.”
“…!”
“You must not look so stricken, Milady. None of this was your doing.”
A faint, melancholic smile crossed his face.
“Your disappearance struck our family like a falling star. It was catastrophic, catching us entirely unprepared. The shadow it cast over Birch Castle never truly lifted, and far too many tragedies followed in its wake.”
He trailed off for a moment, then looked at her with a gentle expression.
“Yet now you have returned, and I believe our long wound will finally begin to mend. For that alone, we are boundlessly grateful.”