Thud, a sound echoed. It was the noise of the glass Cedelloi was holding hitting the armrest. The entrance of the extinguished empty fireplace seemed to become a narrow hole, gradually expanding.

Suddenly, Cedelloi recalled memories from his childhood. It was when the former Duchess, his mother, and Jocelyn left the mansion one day.

Until then, he had felt no fear towards the fireplace. However, it began to terrify him. Once the fire was extinguished, he couldn’t stare straight into it, fearing it would suck him in.

He felt as if he would sink into a deep, dark hole, never to return.

The strange phobia disappeared as if it had never existed as soon as his mother and Jocelyn returned. However, after the deaths of Berbo and Liria, it occasionally reappeared, tormenting Cedelloi. It didn’t manifest as irrational fear, as it did in his childhood, but instead, it triggered nervous compulsions.

When those symptoms occurred, Cedelloi couldn’t put out the fire in the fireplace even in the broad daylight of midsummer. And now, despite Ash being right next to him, he felt the neurotic fear gnawing at his toes.

Cedelloi let out a slow sigh.

“Yeah, right. I mentioned it back then, but Jocelyn has to confess that fact with her own mouth. If she doesn’t, she will never leave this place, Balterminster Mansion. Even if she confesses, I don’t think she’ll leave on her own. But some reasonable reason must arise to pull her out.”

Ash shook his head with a puzzled expression.

“Cedelloi, do you really think that’s possible? That woman is like a persistent witch. When did your younger brother and his wife die? It’s been several years already. You didn’t even consider suspecting Jocelyn for a long time after those two died. Am I right?”

Cedelloi nodded expressionlessly.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“That’s where it went wrong, didn’t I tell you? Are you still looking for that person who can testify, the forester or the mountain keeper? But is that enough? Do you really think she will yield to that extent? Or do you have other evidence you haven’t told me about?”

In response to Ash’s question, Cedelloi, as if swallowing bitter medicine, drank all the remaining alcohol in his glass. Then, he looked down at the empty glass for a moment, and with tight eyelids, he rubbed his eyelids that were tightly squeezed.

“Ash, do you happen to know someone named Blencon?”

“Blencon? Who’s that?”

“He’s the mansion’s employee, an old man. He’s good with words; in the past, he trained all the horses in the stable. Now, he occasionally takes care of the stable since he’s energetic, but…”

Ash snorted.

“How would I know your house servants? Anyway, what about that old man?”

Cedelloi, after pouring a few drops of remaining alcohol from the empty glass into the cold fireplace, continued speaking.

“I told you that story, and not long after that… It wasn’t long ago. Blencon came to see me one night. It seemed he had noticed that I suspected the deaths of Berbo and Liria. And when he found out that I started doubting Jocelyn, he came to see me right away.”

Suddenly standing up, Cedelloi returned to the back of the desk where the sun was shining.

Unlocking the bottom drawer, he opened it and took something out from a small space inside. Then, he threw it towards the edge of the desk, reaching where Ash’s hand could touch.

With a meaningful expression, Cedelloi lowered his chin.

“Grasp it tightly in both hands and tell me.”
Ash realized that he was staring at Cedelloi with a very expressionless face and shifted his gaze. Reluctantly, he reached out his hand and picked up something Cedelloi had thrown.

The stiff paper, treated with oil, was folded diagonally, resembling the packaging of poison. However, what was inside was not poison. It wasn’t something surprisingly shocking either.

It was a small button. It was completely black, with a shine that revealed it was made of an unusual material. The shape, however, was common and could be seen anywhere. Ash narrowed his eyebrows as he held the button, flipped it over, and saw a single initial engraved on the back.

J.

Ash looked at Cedelloi.

“Is this a keepsake of that woman?”

“Yeah, that’s right. That button… Well, you can see for yourself, but it’s not something cheap. It’s made from the best quality obsidian. The clothes with that button are only one set, and that belongs to Jocelyn.”

A smile crossed Ash’s lips.

“She has a face like a stone, but unexpectedly, she seems to have luxurious tastes.”

Cedelloi chuckled softly.

“Not at all. Jocelyn is far from luxurious. She considers indulgence itself a sin.”

“But what’s this?”

“The clothes Jocelyn has were made by her late father for her.”

Ash looked again at the button he held. Then, he turned his gaze back to Cedelloi and, with a growling voice, asked.

“Did you just say your father?”

“This is a bit long to explain.”

“Whether it’s long or short, it’s still absurd. I never knew your father, the Duke, had another woman, and that too, an employee, as his concubine.”

“Well, who knows who the concubine was.”