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Chapter 22
The White Crow (1)
After returning to the mansion in the capital, Berenice took two days of rest before beginning her activities in earnest.
Of course, since she was still a noble lady who hadn’t debuted in high society, there wasn’t much she could actually do.
Among the few things she could do, the most important was preparing for the upcoming ball — though, truthfully, what mattered most to Berenice was something else entirely.
“Miss, how about this one?”
“Not really.”
“Then what about this? It goes perfectly with your dress…”
“No.”
“Miss, an invitation has arrived. Should we refuse this one as well?”
“Yes, please do.”
Though she barely said anything besides ‘Not really’, she responded kindly — even with a smile — whenever Nadia spoke. Watching this, Marianne’s expression stiffened slightly.
Of course, she quickly erased that look and returned to her usual cheerful face as if nothing had happened. But Berenice, who had noticed every bit of that expression, could only think about how soon she could drive Marianne out of the mansion.
“Miss, preparing for the ball is important. You know that.”
“I know. That’s why Mother is taking care of it herself.”
Not only the Marchioness but everyone in the mansion was working hard on preparations for the twins’ debut ball.
They were working with almost desperate intensity — perhaps because even a moment of rest allowed sad thoughts to creep back in.
Thanks to that, Lowell and Berenice — the twins themselves — were constantly presented with an endless stream of choices, reviewing, approving, postponing, and rejecting them one after another.
“You know, young master Lowell has already decided on the ribbon color he’ll send to Lady Iona.”
Iona was the eldest daughter of Count Graham — and Lowell’s fiancée.
She was kind, gentle, and beautiful — without a single rough edge in her nature.
When they were young, Berenice had even once grabbed her hand in earnest, saying Iona was far too good for a man like Lowell and trying to talk her out of the engagement.
Even more, in her previous life — after their family had fallen — Iona was one of the few who continued to believe in Berenice and Wiltiera, remaining faithful to her love for Lowell until the end.
Even after Lowell’s death, she stayed unmarried for years, and only when her family was on the brink of collapse did she finally accept a political marriage with another noble house.
Even while being hunted, Berenice had risked everything to return to the capital and meet Iona the day before her wedding.
She could still remember how Iona had wept bitterly when Berenice had told her to let go of Lowell and live happily.
It had reminded her of how deeply Lowell and Iona had loved each other — even if theirs was an arranged engagement — and she had cried along with her.
“Miss?”
“…What color ribbon did he choose? It’s not green, is it?”
Pulled from her memories by Marianne’s voice, Berenice quickly came back to her senses and asked.
In her previous life, she hadn’t even been able to attend the ball — and with everything that had happened afterward, she couldn’t recall the little details from this time clearly.
“It’s light green.”
“…He has not a shred of originality.”
At the ball, unmarried noble men and women wore ribbons around their wrists as a sign that they were promised to someone.
Since the available colors and designs were limited, couples would often express their uniqueness through the way the ribbon was tied.
The light green ribbon Lowell chose represented Iona’s eye color.
“I didn’t even know there were so many shades of light green ribbon!”
“…Did Lowell make the final decision himself?”
“No, Lady Iona did.”
“Of course she did.”
Berenice sighed, remembering how her normally sharp-witted brother would turn into an absolute fool whenever Iona was involved.
Bleddyn would just pick everything if he couldn’t decide, and Lowell would reject everything.
No middle ground whatsoever.
Then again — Bleddyn had turned into an idiot whenever the Crown Prince was involved too.
And Father loses all judgment whenever it comes to Mother… so I suppose foolishness in love is a family tradition.
From what she’d heard, even her late grandfather had been that way — though in his case, it had been toward a hunting dog he adored.
Berenice quietly prayed that she would be spared from such a “family tradition,” then subtly gestured to Nadia to step outside.
It was time to finally start moving.
“Marianne.”
“Yes, Miss?”
“I have a favor to ask.”
“Yes, anything.”
“When the sun sets, I’ll be away for a few hours. Tell anyone who asks that I went to bed early because I was tired.”
“…Pardon?”
“Please.”
Marianne blinked rapidly — a habit she had whenever she was thinking hard, though she didn’t seem aware of it herself.
“May I ask why?”
“Hmm…”
“As your chief maid, I should know what’s going on. If something happens, I need to react quickly for your sake.”
In her past life, Berenice might have applauded such loyal words. But now, knowing Marianne’s true colors, she could only find amusement in how transparent her cunning looked.
“Is that so?”
“Of course!”
Instead of mocking her, Berenice furrowed her brow slightly and pretended to hesitate, beckoning her closer.
“Long ago, my brother asked me to take care of something for him. I’m going to retrieve it.”
“…You mean the first young master?”
“Yes. If I bring him up, Mother will just get sad, so I planned to go later — but I don’t think I can wait any longer. I have to go quietly.”
“Is there a reason it can’t wait?”
“…Do I have to tell you that too?”
“N-no! Of course not! I was just curious, hehe.”
Realizing she had overstepped, Marianne hastily covered her tracks and gave an innocent smile.
Berenice struggled to keep her expression soft, fighting the urge to glare daggers at her.
She couldn’t afford to let Marianne sense her suspicion or realize that she might be deliberately laying a trap.
Marianne had reached her position by relying on “intuition” and “tact.”
If she suspected that Berenice’s words were bait and reported everything to her patron, it would ruin everything.
“You’ll be going out tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll make sure everything’s prepared so you can leave right after dinner.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it! It’s my job!”
Marianne beamed brightly.
Berenice smiled back — but for entirely different reasons.
There was no specific time for meeting the White Crow.
She had said “tonight” only to give Marianne enough time to contact her patron.
Moving at night isn’t a bad idea anyway. It’ll make it easier for the rats to follow.
If her family knew that she was deliberately using herself as bait, they would have been furious.
But this was only the beginning.
She would have to repeat this same act again and again — until she dragged into the light those responsible for her brother’s death.
That was her goal.
Once she’d made a plausible excuse and sent Marianne out of the room, Berenice opened a hidden compartment and took out a small leather pouch.
It was the same pouch Bleddyn had once hidden beneath the feet of a small statue of a goddess.
Untying the string and opening the pouch, Berenice pulled out the contents and placed them on her palm.
“I knew my brother was closely connected with the White Crow… but I didn’t expect he had this.”
Inside the pouch, along with a single cufflink missing its pair, was a small silver coin engraved with a white crow with its wings spread wide.
Slightly smaller and thicker than an imperial silver coin, it was a symbol of invitation — one that allowed the bearer to meet the White Crow’s leader, the Friend, face to face.
Only a very small, chosen few possessed such a coin.
Berenice herself had obtained one in her previous life — but it had taken her quite some time to earn it.
“There definitely was something between Brother and Bronwen.”
Whenever she had asked Bronwen about her brother, the woman had simply closed her mouth tightly and left without answering.
So she had never been able to ask properly — nor receive an answer.
But this time, things might be different.
I have Brother’s diary, after all.
Though Bleddyn had told her to deliver the diary, nothing said she couldn’t attach her own conditions.
And Bronwen wouldn’t know that her brother had even asked her to pass it along.
Looking toward the space beneath her bed — where she had hidden Bleddyn’s diary — Berenice smiled faintly.
For the first time, she felt she might finally uncover one of the mysteries that had haunted her before her return.
