Demian left.

Arasila, who returned home alone, shed tears for a moment, but soon became brave. The current parting would be temporary anyway.

If she endured this indefinite waiting, she could promise a longer future.

However, even if Demian returned victorious from the northern war, it would be troublesome if suspicions of patricide still hung over him.

‘I must somehow prove Demian’s innocence.’

Arasila joined forces with like-minded people for this purpose. That person was none other than Prince Lucas.

Lucas felt guilty for hesitating to help Demian for several days and responding late to Arasila.

Thus, he actively agreed to Arasila’s request to see evidence related to Oscar’s murder case.

Arasila went to meet Lucas, taking Colin, whom Demian had left behind for her.

“Before, Earl Vandermir infiltrated the office to help his wife, but now it’s the opposite.”

Lucas, who secretly met the two in the backyard of the imperial office where the evidence was stored, said with a faint smile.

“Back then, I sent all the office people to a group lunch, but now it’s not so easy.”

“Then what should we do?”

“We have to create a reason for them to leave. Do you know what this is?”

Lucas, with a friendly smile, pulled out a pitch-black bead. Arasila narrowed her eyes and examined it.

It was clearly a magical tool, given the faint magical energy emanating from it. Soon after, she easily recalled the identity of the bead.

“It’s a tool that produces fake fire and smoke.”

“That’s right. I’m going to secretly put this in the office to make it look like there’s a fire. Then everyone will rush outside. We’ll use that opportunity to go down to the basement.”

Lucas handed over a map of the office interior. Arasila expressed her gratitude and took it.

“This bead only has an effect for a maximum of 10 minutes. Even if I buy additional time, it’s only 30 minutes total. So you need to come out within that time.”

“Understood.”

Arasila and Colin nodded firmly. Lucas sent a subordinate to send the bead into the office building.

After a moment, black smoke began to leak from the upper floor of the building, followed by bright red flames.

It was all fake, created by magical tools, but people who couldn’t know that fact came running out one by one, screaming.

Contrary to them, Arasila and Colin entered through the side door of the office.

The two, who safely reached the evidence storage room marked on the map, frantically searched inside. They needed to find it quickly and leave, but it wasn’t as easy as they thought.

“There’s so much stuff here, really.”

Arasila, who muttered a complaint to herself, frowned deeply.

It seemed there were truly many incidents and accidents in the empire, as the storage room was packed full.

Could they really find the evidence for Oscar’s murder case among all this within 30 minutes?

Realizing that searching aimlessly wasn’t the answer, Arasila fell into thought.

Since it was the murder of a duke’s son, they would surely store the related evidence securely.

‘Then, wouldn’t they keep it separate from other evidence rather than together?’

Colin seemed to have the same thought, as he poked his head out between the boxes and said,

“Madam, there’s a restricted area over there. Shall we go in?”

“Alright, let’s go.”

The two stood in front of a locked door. Arasila easily undid the lock with magic.

The room inside wasn’t very spacious. There was a bookshelf placed on each wall, and large and small boxes were placed on them.

Among them, the two found a box labeled ‘Oscar Vandermir Murder Case’.

“As expected, they put it separately from the others.”

“I thought so. It’s such an important case, isn’t it?”

“Let’s look for something that might help prove Demian’s innocence.”

Arasila and Colin examined the evidence intently.

The box contained Oscar’s clothes, some items from his room, the knife used as the murder weapon, leaves found on the balcony, and so on.

While Colin carefully examined the case report from the time, Arasila rummaged through Oscar’s clothes.

‘He really lost a lot of blood. The shirt is in tatters. Did he struggle a bit though?’

To be precise, he must have fought for his life, but seeing the shirt tattered with dried bloodstains, she felt a slight pity.

Arasila, not wanting to be caught up in unnecessary sentiments, was about to organize the clothes and put them back in the envelope and into the box when suddenly,

‘Huh, what’s this?’

A small piece of cloth fluttered and fell from Oscar’s pants pocket. Arasila picked it up with a puzzled look.

On the black cloth, which seemed to have been torn from somewhere, was drawn a snow-white owl.

‘An owl? Why is this in Oscar’s pants?’

With an uneasy feeling, Arasila fiddled with the cloth, unable to put it back in its place. At that moment, Colin, who had finished reading the report, said,

“It seems Young Master Vandermir resisted somewhat. A few of his right fingernails were broken, and his fingertips were stained white with something like paint.”

“Really?”

“Yes, and strangely, all the vital points were avoided when stabbing, so he died slowly. That’s why he lost so much blood.”

Arasila’s gaze turned to the cloth.

As it happened, the owl drawn on it was white and somewhat smeared. And it was found in the right pants pocket.

‘This might be a clue about the culprit that Oscar left behind.’

This time, there was a high probability that he died unjustly without knowing anything.

He might have tried to escape from the assassin’s grasp, tore this cloth, and hid it in his pocket while dying.

‘Let’s take this with us for now.’

Arasila wrapped the cloth in a handkerchief. To prevent any damage, just in case.

Then, after examining other evidence and running out of time, she escaped with Colin just in time.

Outside, Lucas, who was busy inciting people that a big fire had broken out, winked at the two as they slipped away.

After safely returning home like that, Arasila showed the cloth to Colin and explained her deduction.

“So the real culprit who killed Oscar must be related to this owl.”

“Then I’ll investigate if there’s an underworld guild or assassin that uses an owl as their symbol.”

“I’ll also look around the back alleys.”

“Yes, but please be careful.”

Arasila smiled as if to say not to worry. In fact, there was nothing to worry about.

The two, who had joined forces, clasped each other’s hands. Vowing to catch the culprit before Demian’s return.

4th Avenue is famous for entertainment, but secret transactions also take place in between.

There’s no better place for people doing things they can’t be proud of to hide their existence.

Every evening, Arasila wandered the streets wrapped in a pitch-black robe.

“I’d like to entrust some work to an owl, does anyone know someone?”

While dropping such words, she deliberately wore a fluffy white fur muffler over her robe distinctively.

That way, anyone who understood those words could easily find her.

During the day, she circulated the outskirts of the capital, distributing flyers that read ‘Looking for an owl’.

Desperately hoping that just one person would take the bait.

But after a week, there were no results. It was the same for Colin.

‘Is this not the right direction?’

Wondering if they were investigating in the wrong direction, she also tried to find noble families with an owl as their symbol. But there were none.

An unexpected person contacted Arasila, who had fallen into deep contemplation.

「Let’s meet. This time, I’ll visit your residence.」

The sender of the letter was Howard Rond.

Arasila, who had visited him to undo the magic on the box after Demian’s departure was decided, became puzzled.

Do we have anything else to discuss?

While she was debating whether to meet or not, worried about unnecessarily stirring up trouble, Howard barged in as he pleased. Just as Arasila had done.

“Hmm, I don’t think I replied saying you could come. Am I mistaken?”

“No, but when you get old, your temper gets short. I couldn’t wait, so I followed your example.”

Howard answered quite shamelessly. However, Arasila was at a loss for words. What could she say when she had acted that way first?

Sitting face to face with him in the reception room, Arasila took a sip of tea and asked.

“What brings you here?”

“…I came to return this.”

What Howard carefully handed over was none other than Monica’s jewelry box. The one she had handed over as a condition for helping Demian.

Unable to understand his intention in returning it, Arasila didn’t accept it at first.

“Why are you giving this back suddenly? I gave that to you in a fair trade.”

“Because it’s not mine. This is what Monica left for her son, not for her father.”

“…So you’re returning it? Won’t you regret it?”

Howard nodded with a faint smile.

It was a rule that coveting others’ belongings brings trouble. And Monica’s keepsake rightfully belonged to Demian, who had stayed by her side until the end.

Not to the incompetent father who couldn’t do anything.

“If that’s your wish, Duke, I understand. I’ll keep it safe as before and give it to Demian when he returns.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“No need for thanks. It’s all for Demian anyway.”

Arasila, who finally accepted the jewelry box, casually opened it.

As before, it contained a diary, a glass bottle, and a small folded note.

Seeing that, she suddenly remembered Howard’s reaction to Cyan Mondor.

“Duke Rond, may I ask you something?”

“Ask away.”

Howard nodded with a much more amiable attitude.

Having come to his senses after Arasila’s rebuke, he had no reason to be hostile towards her as Demian’s wife anymore.

“Do you know who Cyan Mondor is?”

“…Ah, come to think of it, you mentioned that name before too.”

“Yes, it was a name inside the Duchess’s jewelry box. No matter how much I search, I can’t find anyone with that name.”

“Of course not.”

Howard replied with a chuckle. Arasila looked at him in bewilderment as he elegantly lifted his teacup.

Why is it obvious? Is it because it’s not a real person’s name?

Feeling her questioning gaze, Howard said in an amused voice.

“Because it’s not a real name.”

“What do you mean? If it’s not a real name… is it a nickname or an alias?”

“Similar. Cyan Mondor is created by rearranging the letters of Monica Rond.”

Cyan Mondor and Monica Rond. Arasila’s mouth opened slightly, not having thought to connect those two names.

“Our Monica had many things she wanted to do secretly from her family during puberty. Mixing with commoners or trying small businesses. She used the name Cyan Mondor then. We all knew but pretended not to.”

Howard’s eyes became moist as he recalled memories of his daughter. Who would have known that such a dreamy and curious child would ruin her life through marriage?

He unconsciously let out a painful sigh. Silently, Arasila poured tea into Howard’s empty cup herself.

“…Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. Actually, I’ve been curious about Cyan Mondor’s identity for a very long time, so it feels good to finally know. Thank you.”

“Haha, you shouldn’t just believe what you see. You need to broaden your perspective to see many things.”

Howard pointed at the jewelry box with a good-natured smile.

“For instance, the eagle motif engraved there is the symbol of our Rond Earldom, but many people often mistake it for a hawk. Such people are probably more familiar with hawks.”

Arasila, who was about to nod without much thought, suddenly paused.

An owl drawn on a snow-white cloth. Her mind began to spin.

Cyan Mondor and Monica Rond, animals that are different yet similar like hawks and eagles.

Owl and barn owl.

‘…It wasn’t an owl. It was a barn owl.’

She had mistaken it because the paint was smeared and the shape wasn’t intact. As this realization hit her entire body, Arasila was momentarily speechless.

“Ah, perhaps you don’t know that either?”

“…Pardon? Know what?”

“How to open the diary inside.”

Arasila blankly looked down at the diary. The magic on it was too complex, and there were more urgent matters, so she hadn’t been able to undo it yet.

Could it be that Howard knows this too? It felt like all the secrets that had been troubling her were being solved at once.

“Then, do you know what the condition is to open the diary?”

“Of course I do, since I gave it. It’s something only used by members of the Rond Earldom for generations. That’s why it has special magic on it.”

As Howard reached out his hand, Arasila took the diary out of the jewelry box and handed it over.

He placed his hand firmly on the diary. Then, a green light seeped out from the diary and enveloped Howard’s hand.

“When first using this diary, you need to drop your own blood on it. Then the diary’s magic automatically identifies only those of the same bloodline and allows them to see the contents.”

“…So that’s why I couldn’t open it no matter how hard I tried.”

Magic mixed with blood becomes several times stronger and harder than ordinary magic, making it impossible to break easily.

Even if the opponent were the Tower Master or the next Tower Master.

That’s why the Magic Tower prohibits mixing the inventor’s blood when developing magical tools or magic circles.

“That’s right. Originally, this book was custom-made by commissioning the Tower Master at the time with a large sum of money to keep related secrets and confidential information when the Rond Earldom first produced an empress.”

Arasila slightly furrowed her brow at Howard’s continued explanation.

It meant that the Tower Master of that time had broken the Tower’s rules, blinded by money. Or perhaps blinded by power.

Howard opened the first page of the diary after the magic was undone and handed it over to Arasila as is.

If he closed it again now that Demian was away, she wouldn’t be able to see it.

“Since it was made at such a high cost, wouldn’t it be good to utilize it for generations to come? Descendants of the Rond Earldom each receive one of these magic-imbued books when they come of age. Everyone uses them mostly for ledgers or secret records, but Monica said she would use it as a diary.”

“I see… But is it alright to tell me, an outsider, about such things?”

These were words that wouldn’t be good to leak out in many ways. Yet Howard had revealed everything to her without hesitation, which puzzled her.

Do I look tight-lipped? Well, I have no intention of blabbing about it anywhere.

In any case, it was the family Demian’s mother was born into, and since they had openly emphasized the blood relationship this time, problems could arise that might harm Demian.

However, unexpectedly, Howard, who suddenly looked flustered, opened his mouth after a long while.