Chapter 69
Two and a half years ago, when Louis came to Monica, who was living in a mountain cabin, bearing an assignment to guard the Second Prince, Monica trembled and despaired, thinking, "Why has this happened?"
Looking back, that year had been one long string of "Why has this happened?"
After making it through that tumultuous year, Monica had thought she had managed to grow, if only a little, and that she no longer let herself be swept along as easily as she had in the past... Or so she had thought. She really had.
(W-why has this happened...?! )
In the spacious hall, eerily illuminated by foreign-style lamps, gentlemen and ladies in obviously expensive clothes lounged on sofas, enjoying conversation over drinks and fruit.
Incense burned at several spots throughout the establishment, filling the room with sweet-smelling white smoke.
A black-haired man sat beside Monica on the sofa, dressed in an outfit like that of a desert tribesman. Though he was a man, he wore a revealing, dancer-like costume, with a veil over his mouth.
"Is this your first time in a place like this? Did your big sis bring you here?"
"U-um..."
"I'm Michel. And you?"
With the man who called himself Michel draping an arm around her shoulders, Monica nervously shifted her gaze.
"Um, well..."
Although Monica was bad with strangers and had frozen stiff, Michel did not take offense. Instead, he smiled beneath his veil and plucked a grape from the plate.
"Aha, you're shy. So cuuute. Here, say ahh."
"Mmph."
Michel's slender fingers pushed the grape into Monica's mouth.
Monica chewed the grape, then glanced sideways at Melissa sitting beside her.
Melissa was sprawled arrogantly across the sofa while a brown-haired young man poured her drinks. She looked entirely at home being waited on—a picture-perfect scene of a wicked woman with handsome men at her beck and call.
(...What is Big Sis Melissa planning to do?)
According to Melissa, a man named Sloth, the owner of this establishment, was the despicable villain who had tampered with the product Melissa had sold and was peddling it.
Melissa had threatened a man named Theodore and entered the establishment as a customer in order to recover that product.
Melissa said this was reconnaissance of the enemy... but she was guzzling alcohol so enthusiastically that Monica couldn't help but suspect she had simply wanted a drink.
The establishment was saturated with the smells of alcohol, tobacco, and some excessively sweet incense. Just taking a deep breath was enough to make Monica feel sick.
As Monica gulped down the lukewarm grape, the brown-haired man sitting beside Melissa opened the lid of a small pot on the table. It appeared to be a candy jar, filled with round candies.
"Lady, lady, have some candy. I prepared some special candy for tonight."
"Oh, how nice. I'll have one. You want one too, little one?"
Melissa picked two candies from the pot and popped one of them into her own mouth.
Then, holding the remaining candy in one hand, she cupped Monica's cheek with the other.
(...Huh?)
Melissa's fingers moved swiftly for an instant.
Melissa dropped the white candy into her sleeve, then pinched a pink candy between her fingertips—the one she had apparently been concealing in her hand from the start.
As Monica struggled to keep her agitation from showing on her face, Melissa leaned close.
"...Listen. Don't put any of the candy those men offer you in your mouth. If you want to suck on one, use this candy instead."
Whispering so only Monica could hear, Melissa pushed the pink candy into her mouth.
"Here you go, little one. Say ahh."
"Y-yes..."
"Oh my, this candy is sooo delicious! I think I'll have another. Come on, come on, you should take one too, little one."
Melissa made a great show of excitement as she grabbed three candies from the pot.
She dropped the candies into her dress sleeve, then quickly exchanged them for different candies in her hands and pressed them into Monica's.
So if someone offered her candy, this was what she was supposed to suck on.
(Does that mean... the candy in this establishment is dangerous?)
The pink candy rolling around in her mouth melted to release a syrup from inside, a sweet syrup with a strong rose scent.
While that scent filled her mouth, Monica strangely found herself no longer bothered by the incense smoke drifting around her.
(Could that incense be...?)
As Monica stared at the censers placed all over the establishment, Melissa leaned against the brown-haired man.
"Aah, I think I got a little tipsy~. Heeey, would you take me to your room~?"
The brown-haired man grinned and stood up with an arm around Melissa's shoulders. "Of course."
"B-Big Sis...!"
"The little one is going to stay here and wait for me for a liiittle while... All right?"
Her voice was sugary and coaxing, but only the final sentence carried a low, pointed undertone.
Monica nodded, and Melissa nodded back with a satisfied, "Good," before standing up.
Then, with unsteady steps like someone thoroughly drunk, she leaned against the brown-haired man. He put an arm around her waist and led her out of the hall.
As Monica watched them leave, wondering where they were going, the black-haired Michel sitting beside her pulled her close by the shoulder.
"Aww, your big sis went away. Are you lonely?"
"Um... Eek?!"
When Monica stammered, Michel pushed against her shoulder.
Monica's back slid down the sofa's backrest, and she sank into the sofa with a soft thump.
Michel smiled seductively and grabbed Monica by the wrist.
"Hey, why don't we do something fun too? Is this your first time in a place like this? Don't worry, I'll be veeeery gentle with you."
＊ ＊ ＊
Chasing after Monica, Raul and Cyril stepped into the obviously disreputable establishment and were shown to a sofa in the hall.
The hall was about the size of a small party venue, and wealthy-looking gentlemen and ladies smoked pipes and enjoyed drinks and food throughout it.
The young men and women serving those customers were dressed in foreign-style outfits. Their desert-dancer-like costumes looked practically like underwear, and the young women displayed their ample figures without the slightest attempt to conceal them.
"What kind of place is this...?!"
Cyril, seated beside Raul, had a furrow so deep between his brows that it looked as though one could wedge a matchstick into it.
"Hey, Cyril. Are you really sure Monica came into this place?"
"Yeah. Without a doubt."
Cyril nodded firmly and looked around restlessly. He was probably searching for Monica.
But the interior was dim, and the white smoke from incense burning in several spots made it difficult to see.
The distinctive sweet scent of the smoke made Raul furrow his brow slightly.
(Huh, this smell... Could it be...?)
If Raul's hunch was correct, the incense had been laced with a magical drug.
It had an effect similar to an aphrodisiac, weakening one's control over one's emotions and reason.
It was less potent than taking it orally, but breathing it in for a long time was dangerous.
"Cyril, let's get outside for a moment. This incense is bad news..."
Before Raul could finish speaking, Cyril stood up. In the direction of his gaze was a petite girl pinned to a sofa, with a black-haired man looming over her.
From where Raul stood, he couldn't see the girl's face, but he recognized the light-brown hair and ribbon hanging over the side of the sofa.
Cyril strode quickly toward the sofa. His profile was expressionless, but his blue eyes held a menacing, glittering light.
Raul went pale.
(Wait. Come to think of it, Cyril has that constitution that makes him absorb too much magic...)
This incense would affect Cyril far too strongly, given his constitution, which made him absorb ambient magic more readily than other people.
Ordinary incense would not be a problem, but this incense was a magical drug—it contained magical power. Naturally, Cyril's body would absorb the incense's magic faster than other people's.
"Cyril! Wait! Stop!"
Raul hurried to chase after Cyril... but—
"Oh my, what a handsome guy!"
"Hey, why don't you buy me tonight?"
"No fair! I was first!"
The women who had brought alcohol and fruit to Raul and Cyril's table surrounded Raul all at once.
It was easy to forget because of his unfortunate behavior, but Raul possessed a beauty said to have been inherited from the first 〈Thorn Witch〉. The hostesses' eyes lit up as they swarmed him and pressed their ample bodies against him.
Trapped and unable to move amid the women, Raul cried out.
"H-hey, wait! My friend is in serious trouble right now...!"
＊ ＊ ＊
"I can't hold back anymore... Come on, let's go to my room, okay?"
The black-haired man looming over Monica, Michel, pinned her to the sofa by one wrist with one hand and pulled out what appeared to be a room key with the other. A small tag was attached to the key by a cord, with the room number engraved on it.
Michel hooked the key ring around his finger and laughed seductively as it jingled, then brought his lips close to Monica's ear...
"Shh, don't scream, okay?"
"...Huh?"
"You look like your big sis dragged you here against your will, right? I'll get you out through my room, so come with me."
With that, Michel let his seductive facade fall away and smiled in a friendly way.
Monica hesitated, unsure whether she could trust Michel's words, so Michel gave her a mischievous wink.
"It's going to be a liiittle noisy tonight."
(...Huh? Where have I heard that line before...?)
As Monica searched her memory, trying to remember where she had heard those words, Michel let out a scream of "Whoa!" and tumbled off the sofa.
Someone had roughly grabbed Michel by the shoulder and dragged him off the sofa.
"Excuse me."
The low voice from above made Monica's heart leap.
Monica, still lying on the sofa, looked up with wide, round eyes and was rendered speechless by Cyril looking down at her coldly.
"...Eh... ah..."
As Monica mouthed the word "Why?" Cyril grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet.
Then he glared sharply at Michel.
"She is with me."
"Ah... haha, so you had a boyfriend after all? Yeah, guess I didn't have a chance, then. Here, you can have the room if you want."
Cyril snatched the offered key.
Michel just grinned at him.
"Advice from a kind big brother: For tonight, you'd better stay in your room until morning."
"..."
Without saying a word, Cyril began walking, still gripping Monica's wrist.
"L-Lord Cyril-sama...!"
Even when Monica called his name anxiously, Cyril did not turn around.
So Monica couldn't tell what kind of expression he wore, but she knew all the same that he was absolutely furious.
The hand gripping Monica's wrist was hot, but the icy chill radiating from Cyril's body pricked her skin, as if his fury itself had taken physical form.