The assistant of Count Scala suddenly appeared from the back garden of the imperial palace.

He walked through the corridor with anxious steps, his face pale and lips tightly pressed.

Things were taking a strange turn.

Frowning his nose bridge, he was on his way back after confirming only bloodstains, presumably from a bird, at the location where he was supposed to exchange a messenger bird.

Even when writing memos, they had their own code in case of emergencies, but the content of the memo wasn’t important.

From the moment someone learned that a messenger bird was received at the imperial palace, things had gone awry.

Was it a servant? Or… No. A noble who just entered the palace wouldn’t suddenly capture a bird.

Could it be Bruno?

He shook his head and walked, almost running through the corridor.

No. A person trying to escape wouldn’t need to capture a bird. A servant is the most likely culprit.

They probably captured it because they saw a strange bird with a note attached to its foot.

For now, I need to find the whereabouts of the messenger bird quickly rather than looking for Bruno. I should go to where the servants rest.

“Ah! …Ugh.”

At that moment, the assistant tripped over something and fell.

Curled up on the floor, clutching his injured leg, the assistant quickly turned his head.

“What…!”

But the assistant couldn’t finish his sentence.

In front of him stood Duke Genova, holding a bird in one hand.

Ice-cold blue eyes looked down at him sitting on the floor.

“I’m sorry my legs are so long. Well then.”

The Duke gave a slight nod and was about to continue on his way.

However, after confirming the note attached to the bird’s foot, the assistant called out to him, knowing this was all part of the Duke’s scheme. He couldn’t let him go like this.

“Duke Genova.”

Falling into Damian’s trap, he had to come up with an excuse about the messenger bird on the spot.

What should I, what should I… say?

The assistant, who had frozen for a moment after making eye contact with Damian who had turned around silently, got up.

Dusting himself off, he pointed at the bird in Damian’s hand, extremely tense.

“That bird… Where did you hunt it, by any chance?”

“Ah, you mean this bird?”

Damian raised one eyebrow slightly and shifted his gaze to the bird.

“I saw an unfamiliar bird wandering around the imperial palace. The strict palace security shouldn’t just include people, right? I was thinking of reporting this to the guards anyway.”

“Ah, that… Actually, that bird is one I’m raising as a messenger bird.”

“A bird you’re raising?”

Damian lifted the already dead bird.

“Oh my. It’s already dead, are you alright with that?”

“No, it was my carelessness. I trained it to follow me, so it seems it followed me from the mansion to the palace.”

“Is that so?”

Damian held out the dead bird to the assistant.

“Coming all the way to the palace… It must have been an unusually intelligent bird. It’s a pity. But if it was a bird you were raising personally, you should have been more careful.”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

The assistant bowed deeply and was about to take the bird from Damian.

“But you know. Why is the assistant of Count Scala alone in the imperial palace?”

“Pardon?”

Cold sweat ran down his spine. He couldn’t hastily answer Damian’s question and just moved his lips dumbly.

The hand he had extended to receive the bird flinched in mid-air.

A strange silence fell.

The assistant, with his head lowered, didn’t have the courage to meet Damian’s eyes.

He just stared at his empty hand, trying to think of an excuse, but wondered if any excuse would work even if he made one.

Doesn’t he already know everything?

As he just stood there, sweating coldly, Damian personally placed the bird on his hand.

“It seems Count Scala will be entering the palace soon as well.”

Damian’s voice, devoid of any inflection, resonated.

“What? Ah… Yes. That’s right. I entered the palace first.”

Damian made the excuse for the assistant.

The assistant, who received the bird dripping with blood, swallowed hard. He didn’t dare to raise his head.

“Well then.”

The sound of Damian’s well-polished shoes echoed through the corridor.

The assistant, his gaze fixed on the blood-dripping bird, stood there like a statue until the sound of Damian’s shoes stopped.

After Damian had completely left the corridor, the assistant collapsed on the spot.

“I… I must inform the Count of this fact quickly.”

*

“Lucy. Shall we go to a new tailor shop today to look at gloves to wear for the Crown Prince’s birthday?”

“A new tailor shop?”

Lucy tilted her head.

“Yes, a new tailor shop.”

Eriel adjusted her wide-brimmed hat and looked up. Hot sunlight poured down, fitting for a bright summer day.

The new tailor shop they were going to visit was based on information passed on by Blake.

Apparently, it was a tailor shop with deep connections to the Scala family. Coincidentally, it was one of the shops recommended by the Marchioness Orsini, so they could naturally visit it.

The reason for specifically going to this tailor shop to buy gloves was because of Count Scala’s ‘gloves’.

When Damian slaughtered the conspirators to save Lucy, what Lucy asked Damian to do.

It was to check their hands.

When asked later why he needed to look at their hands, Lucy said that among the hooded men, only one was wearing gloves.

Though she thought they might have worn gloves just to avoid leaving traces, Eriel recalled Count Scala’s appearance and noticed one curious point.

The fact that he always wore gloves.

Of course, many nobles favored gloves, but it seemed that she had never seen Count Scala’s bare hands.

“But mom, you know.”

“Hm?”

“Doesn’t wearing gloves mean there’s something to hide? On the hands.”

Lucy, who immediately understood the underlying intention of the scheduled visit to the new tailor shop to look at gloves, asked.

Eriel was startled and hesitated, then Lucy awkwardly smiled and said to Eriel.

“I promised not to hide my thoughts from you anymore, remember?”

“…Thank you for keeping your promise to mom so well, Lucy.”

Eriel gently stroked the head of Lucy who was sitting next to her.

That’s right, because she’s a genius…

Then she immediately answered Lucy’s question.

“I think there’s a high possibility of that. As you said, Lucy, they might want to hide something with gloves, or there might be a reason for the act of wearing gloves itself.”

“But wearing gloves itself is too common, isn’t it? There’s no distinction from other groups either. Anyway, if they need to lead something in a group, it should be an act that can increase their solidarity. Wearing gloves seems insufficient for that.”

Eriel’s hand stroking Lucy’s head paused.

“That’s right. If there’s a reason for the act itself, there should be something special that gives them solidarity.”

“So, don’t you think they might want to hide something under the gloves?”

Hiding hands under gloves. Something that needs to be hidden, not revealed, to increase the group’s solidarity.

If so…

“There must be a mark of their group on their hands. It could increase their solidarity and also needs to be hidden.”

Lucy smiled brightly at Eriel’s words.

“Yes. That’s what I thought too.”

Eriel stroked Lucy’s head.

If there’s a mark, the glove maker must have seen their hands.

*

“We welcome the Duchess and the Young Lady.”

Madam Erika, the owner of the tailor shop, greeted them politely and smiled at Eriel.

“I heard about your reputation from Marchioness Orsini. Our Lucy is going as a partner to the Crown Prince’s birthday, but we weren’t quite satisfied with the gloves, and I heard your tailor shop is famous.”

“Yes. I’ve already made gloves based on the measurements I received the day before yesterday.”

At the Madam’s signal, several gloves were displayed on the table.

Eriel put gloves on Lucy’s hands, her face brightening.

“They’re as beautiful as your reputation. Yes.”

“Thank you.”

“Lucy, I think this glove would look pretty with the dress from the first fitting.”

Eriel picked up the glove in the middle. It was a navy blue glove made of soft silk with a subtle sheen.

“I like the moon embroidery here.”

“You’re right. The embroidery is really beautiful.”

Eriel, while adjusting Lucy’s gloves, looked up.

“Madam, I heard that someone else makes the gloves at your tailor shop.”

“Ah… You must be referring to Jarvis. But he only handles men’s gloves. I make all the women’s gloves myself.”

“Is that so? Your skills are also excellent, Madam.”

“You’re too kind.”

Eriel nodded and had Lucy try on a few more gloves.

“I’d like to have these two remeasured and see the finished products.”

“Of course. I’ll do that.”

“Ah, and.”

Eriel looked at the Madam and smiled brightly.

“I’d like to give a gift to my husband as well, is the schedule alright?”

“For the Duke? Of course! I’ll ask Jarvis about his schedule!”