CH 11

——It was raining.

The sounds drowned everything out. It was like the sound of washing everything away.

Normally, the laboratory would be packed with other researchers, including Benjamin and the other man, but right now there was no one in the room except Wisteria.

With her elbows on the table and her forehead in her hands, Wisteria was struck by the voices that echoed in her ears.

“I believe there’s power politics at play.”

Benjamin had said, his face contorted.

“As Lady Wisteria said, it seems that there are other potential guardians who fit the criteria besides Lady Rosalie. But when I looked into it, I found that all of the young ladies who met the same criteria as Rosalie were families from higher status than the Count of Vatue.”

The Good Count. A house that was honest, selfless, and far from power.

——It might have been a revenge, he said.

It couldn’t be said that politics and political disputes were not brought into the Institute for the Control of Magic, which managed all aspects of magic, including the observation of magical elements and miasma and the selection of guardians. The only place where purely magical research could be carried out was this terminally small research lab, which even Wisteria had access to.

“We read the report that was submitted to the Institute of Magic. We also re-examined the miasma levels, but that doesn’t disprove the fact that we need to send a guardian there now——”

All of those circumstances could only mean one thing. 

——Rosalie was chosen, and that meant this was a reality that couldn’t be escaped.

(…Why?)

Why now? Why Rosalie?

An icy cold, more terrible than being drenched by the rain, welled up from the core of her body.

It was as if her vision was darkening.

“I understand how you feel, Lady Wisteria. But please, be careful…”

An older sister who was deeply upset and saddened to learn that her younger sister had been chosen as a sacrifice. A sister who was deeply compassionate.

Benjamin and the others had been looking at her with eyes of sympathy and empathy.

——Those gazes quietly overwhelmed Wisteria.

(It’s not like that at all.)

With her head still hanging down, she bit her trembling lip.

When she was told that Rosalie was chosen as the guardian, what she, who understood it before anyone else did, felt something wasn’t praiseworthy in the least. Rather, it was the opposite.

There was a dark stirring in her chest.

——A repulsive anticipation. Relief.

It was the joy that she was now able to pull Rosalie away from Bright.

Wisteria covered her face with her hands.

(How stupid…!!)

She couldn’t believe her own ugliness.

It was as if fate had brought about this situation to ridicule her ugliness.

——Because she had a selfish, shallow hope. Because she had shameful feelings towards her sister.

Even though she loved and respected her adoptive parents, and she loved their biological daughter, Rosalie, as if she were her real sister——

Only the sound of the rain tapping on the window echoed with the gloom of a funeral march.

Without any results, Wisteria returned to the mansion after being rocked by the carriage in the rain.

Inside the mansion, it was quiet, as if in mourning.

——It’s holding its breath, Wisteria thought.

Standing in the doorway, she wiped herself lightly with a towel brought by the maid.

“Wisteria? Are you home?”

Wisteria heard a trembling voice and looked up with a start.

At the top of the stairs, in the upstairs hallway, stood her adoptive mother looking down at her. Her round face, which had always had a warm smile on it, was now very pale and shadowed.

She quickly descended the stairs and sank into Wisteria’s arms like she couldn’t wait to see her.

“So, what have you found out? This…this horrible thing must be some kind of mistake, right?”

Wisteria’s trembling lips tightened as her adoptive mother pleaded with her to tell her that. It was suffocating, as if her chest was being pressed hard. She couldn’t watch the countess like this.

“…I’m so sorry.”

Wisteria could only apologize. ——Even though her adoptive parents allowed her to do her research on the “Land of Grey Dawn” despite the strange looks and rumors around her, she couldn’t be useful to them at a time like this.

“H-How could this be happening to us…!”

Her gentle face contorted into a crumpled mess, and tears welled up in her eyes.

“Mother…”

Wisteria called to her in a shaking voice and hesitantly reached out her hand.

She gently touched her adoptive mother’s arm.

“You’re home?” As she did so, another voice called out again. This time it was the Count of Vatue himself–her adoptive father.

The count’s face, gentle and elegant, was also deeply worn out.

While suppressing her sobs, the countess spoke in a muffled voice.

“Please…please, Wisteria. We don’t understand what this guardian business is. That’s why we need you to do everything in your power to save her.”

“…Of course, Mother.”

“What is this ‘Land of Grey Dawn’ or miasma? It sounds like something out of a childish fairy tale.”

The countess’s voice was filled with something that wasn’t anger or panic.

——Not many people could use magic.

And the Count and Countess of Vatue couldn’t use magic. For those people who were on that side, neither magical elements nor miasma had anything to do with their lives, and it was difficult to grasp that such things existed.

Her adoptive father, who was looking down from the top of the stairs, spoke.

“Wisteria. You said something about this ‘Land of Grey Dawn.’ I’ve heard it’s dangerous because of something called miasma.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Is this miasma…the same thing that occurred during the accident you had before…?”

For some reason, Wisteria was at a loss for words the moment she was asked that. 

——That disastrous evening party. A mutation caused by the collision of magical elements.

The count’s words were purely for confirmation and questioning, with no other intention. She knew that, but for some reason her heart was pounding wildly.

The countess, whose head had been hanging down, suddenly looked up.

Her eyes, wet with tears, widened as she stared at Wisteria.

“From back then…? The doctor said it was a miracle you were unharmed…and then…”

A fiery glow dwelled in her widened eyes.

The countess gripped Wisteria’s arm tightly. It was so strong that it dug into her skin.

""

“They said you have a resistance, yes? Is that what they mean? Against that terrifying miasma!”

——And then it happened.

A scream. Or a pleading cry, which hit Wisteria hard on the side.

Light purple eyes widened.

“Take Rosalie’s place——”