Chapter 117
Breathless, Tsetsilia ran on, with several corpses strewn around her feet.
Those drenched in blood, those who had collapsed after tasting poison—every one of them had died protecting Tsetsilia.
The eyes of the corpses lying on the ground rolled grotesquely as they glared at Tsetsilia.
──Die, die, die, die, just die already! Why are you still alive? You're a useless false saint!
The bloodstained mouths of the dead spewed words of hatred one after another.
Every one of those voices wished for Tsetsilia's death.
"No... Nooo..."
Clapping both hands over her ears, Tsetsilia ran desperately as the dead pursued her, crawling along the ground.
At the head of those dead walked a blood-soaked maid—Mia.
"Forgive me... Forgive me...!"
In her delirium, Tsetsilia raced up the stairs to escape the voices of the dead. Her footing was uncertain in the darkness, and she fell again and again. Her legs were already covered in bruises.
Even so, Tsetsilia continued running up the stairs, her hair flying loose and tears streaming down her face.
Eventually, she reached the balcony on the top floor. The door, usually kept shut, stood wide open, and the cold night wind brushed her tear-streaked cheeks.
"Ah... uh..."
Clutching the front of her gown, Tsetsilia breathed heavily again and again.
Behind her, she heard the soft, slapping sound of footsteps.
When she turned, she saw Mia approaching, the dead trailing at her feet.
And behind the young maid... stood a man she recognized.
A rugged, black-haired man—〈Dream Mage〉 Kaspar Hütter.
"A saint who was its heir, yet rejected by the mirror—a useless saint."
Hatred and contempt seeped into his low voice and the eyes he turned on Tsetsilia.
"My sister... Mia... died protecting a fake like you?"
Those words made Tsetsilia understand everything.
Hütter's motive, and the identity of the person pulling the strings behind him.
＊ ＊ ＊
The succession ceremony for the ancient magical artifact 〈Mirror of Bern〉 was held at a certain temple in Achenvar territory.
Only three people attended the ceremony: the elderly chief priest, Tsetsilia's grandfather, Duke Achenvar, and Tsetsilia's older half-brother, the Black Lion Emperor Leonhardt.
Tsetsilia unsealed the mirror and performed the succession ceremony according to the procedure she had been taught.
Ancient magical artifacts were said to possess personalities. 〈Mirror of Bern〉 was no exception.
The instant the mirror awoke, its surface rippled. The face reflected there was Tsetsilia's. That face wore an arrogant smile Tsetsilia would never show anyone.
Unlike Tsetsilia, who had opened her mouth slightly in surprise, her reflection opened hers wide and declared:
──I dislike it! What a servile expression!
Tsetsilia was not the only one shocked by the arrogant woman's voice. The chief priest and Duke Achenvar were both rendered speechless.
Only her brother Leonhardt looked at the mirror as though he found it somewhat amusing.
The Tsetsilia in the mirror—or rather, the will dwelling within 〈Mirror of Bern〉—furrowed its brows, wrinkled its nose, and twisted its face in disgust.
──I dislike it, I dislike it. That face of yours looks just like the man who let my dear Constanze die.
Duke Achenvar's shoulders gave a little jerk.
Constanze was the saint two generations before her. More than fifty years ago, during a war, she activated 〈Mirror of Bern〉 at the cost of her life and led the nation to victory. She was the saint who had saved the country.
When it came to who had made Constanze use the mirror, only one person came to mind.
Above all, Tsetsilia knew that her appearance resembled her grandfather's more than anyone else's.
──You flaunt your weakness and force those with power to make sacrifices for you. How base and vile. Isn't that right, brother of Constanze?
With Tsetsilia's face, 〈Mirror of Bern〉 sneered at Duke Achenvar.
Even when Duke Achenvar's face twisted with anger, 〈Mirror of Bern〉 paid him no heed. It giggled spitefully and fixed its gaze on Tsetsilia.
──You pitiful little girl. In consideration of Constanze's blood, I shall enter into a contract with you. But that is all. I shall not respond to your calls, nor lend you my power. You may spend your entire life as a decorative contract holder!
The next instant, the mirror's surface turned pitch-black, as though it had been painted over with ink. Its lusterless black surface no longer functioned as a mirror and reflected nothing.
Tsetsilia loosened the front of her dress and checked her skin. The contract mark had certainly appeared above her breast. If she poured magic into the mark, the artifact should resonate. Once that was confirmed, the ceremony would be over.
But no matter how much magic she poured into it, the artifact did not resonate. 〈Mirror of Bern〉 remained black.
Tsetsilia had succeeded in forming the contract, but 〈Mirror of Bern〉 had rejected her.
Once everything was over and they had returned to the mansion, her grandfather and brother shut themselves in a room and discussed what should be done with Tsetsilia.
Tsetsilia held her breath and listened to their discussion from the other side of the door.
It was the first time Tsetsilia, who had been raised to behave like a saint, had ever eavesdropped.
"Oh, what a disaster... If only it had rejected Tsetsilia entirely, we could have appointed another contract holder... A contract holder who can't use the mirror is utterly useless!"
The voice, thick with despair, belonged to her grandfather.
Since the contract between Tsetsilia and 〈Mirror of Bern〉 had been established, no one else could become its contract holder as long as Tsetsilia lived. The contract with 〈Mirror of Bern〉 would last until its holder died.
Her grandfather groaned in a low, bitter voice.
"If this is how things were going to turn out, perhaps I should have made Tsetsilia take her own life."
Tsetsilia's heart froze at those words.
Her grandfather was suggesting that Tsetsilia be made to take her own life. If Tsetsilia died, they could choose the next contract holder.
(Even if the Empire were to fall into crisis, I couldn't use 〈Mirror of Bern〉. I couldn't save anyone or anything... If I die, a new contract can be formed...)
Tsetsilia hugged her trembling body and sent magic into the contract mark above her breast.
(Please, respond, please respond, Mirror-sama...!)
But no matter how much magic she poured into the contract mark, it simply leaked out of her body.
The mirror was refusing to accept Tsetsilia's magic.
(Why... why...?)
Even in peacetime, a saint might be expected to appear before the public with the mirror during ceremonies. But how could she ever expose a mirror whose surface had turned black?
Just as despair turned everything before her eyes pitch-black, her brother's voice rang out loudly.
"Suicide? Absurd! The contract has been established and the mark has appeared—what a stroke of luck! Tsetsilia still has value."
"Your Majesty... surely you don't mean..."
Through the door, Tsetsilia could not see her brother's face.
And yet she could almost picture the Black Lion Emperor's supremely arrogant, triumphant smile.
"The saint contracted to 〈Mirror of Bern〉 has value as a hostage. Hide the fact that Tsetsilia was rejected by the mirror and marry her off to the Kingdom of Ridill. 〈Mirror of Bern〉, which caused the defeat in the war fifty years ago... Its contract holder is marrying into their country. They won't refuse."
Fortunately—or unfortunately—the contract had been established, and a contract mark had appeared on Tsetsilia's breast. No one would likely doubt that Tsetsilia was a saint.
"If it is needed for ceremonies, have them make a replica of 〈Mirror of Bern〉. I recently found a craftsman with considerable skill."
"But Your Majesty, what are we to do in an emergency requiring 〈Mirror of Bern〉...?"
"What? Are you suggesting that a situation requiring 〈Mirror of Bern〉 might arise while I sit on the throne?"
"Th-that is... um..."
Though Duke Achenvar was as old as his own grandfather, the Black Lion Emperor declared in a ringing voice:
"As long as this Black Lion sits on the throne, do not expect 〈Mirror of Bern〉 ever to be needed!"
His brother's words were unbelievably arrogant and self-serving.
Even so, to Tsetsilia, who had just been told to take her own life, her brother's assertion that she still had value was indeed a source of salvation.
＊ ＊ ＊
Ever since inheriting the ancient magical artifact 〈Mirror of Bern〉, Tsetsilia had been targeted numerous times.
There were countless possible sources of trouble: people from other countries who feared 〈Mirror of Bern〉, and members of branch families seeking the right to inherit the ancient magical artifact.
But the 〈Dream Mage〉 standing before Tsetsilia voiced a fact she had kept hidden at all costs.
There was only one person who knew that Tsetsilia was a useless saint and wished for her death.
"Grandfather has given up on me..."
Her grandfather, Duke Achenvar, had defied the Emperor's wishes and sought to install a new saint.
A saint contracted to 〈Mirror of Bern〉 was also a symbol of the Achenvar ducal house, and a tool for bolstering its influence. If that saint married into another country, Duke Achenvar would lose that advantage.
That was why her grandfather had sent an assassin—the 〈Dream Mage〉—to kill Tsetsilia.
The 〈Dream Mage〉 fixed Tsetsilia with a hateful stare and spat out his words.
"I heard that my sister died with pride in her heart, believing she had saved a saint. I intended to honor my sister's dying wish... and yet—"
The corpses crawling along the floor groaned as though agreeing with the 〈Dream Mage〉's words.
The 〈Dream Mage〉 turned his dark eyes toward the illusion of his sister and clenched his fists tightly.
"When I heard the truth from Duke Achenvar, I nearly lost my mind. My sister died protecting a useless saint who couldn't use the mirror? ...Then what was Mia's death for?"
The 〈Dream Mage〉's words struck directly at the guilt Tsetsilia had carried within her for so long.
His anger was justified. He had every right to be furious.
"If you had only taken your own life sooner... If you had surrendered the contract to someone else, Mia could have lived."
(That's right. I should have died when the mirror rejected me...)
"If you have even the slightest sense of guilt, then jump from here and die. You will refuse to marry Prince Lionel, throw yourself from this balcony, and die. That is the course Duke Achenvar devised."
(If I die, everything will be resolved...)
Tsetsilia peered over the balcony with hollow eyes.
The pitch-black darkness of night looked just like the surface of 〈Mirror of Bern〉, which had rejected Tsetsilia.
Tsetsilia reached a hand into that darkness...
(Then Grandfather and Mia will forgive me...)
──She fell.