27.
"I’ve caught you now."
"Gah!"
The delayed strike, simmering for months, finally found its target.
Several embroidered flower ornaments fell from Marigold's bun in that instant.
"...S-Sir Lancel? Wh-why are you here...?"
Marigold clutched her head, tears welling in her eyes.
Lancel savored the sensation of the festering weight in his chest instantly lifting.
No. It wasn't enough. Lancel squeezed Marigold's cheeks between his hands, crushing them inward.
"Ubbub!"
The girl's face, which had been so coldly serious just moments before, now crumpled grotesquely, her features squashed toward the center.
A smile finally spread across Lancel's face, his veins still throbbing crimson. It was a chillingly sinister smile.
"Running away?"
"Ugh!"
"Abandoning people and fleeing?"
"Ugh...!"
"'Don't look for me'? What does that even mean? Should I have just stayed away because you told me to?"
“It was a tearful letter written after years of consideration……”
"Thanks to that, I spent months racking my brain."
Marigold jerked backward, wrenching herself free from Lancel's grip. She raised a hand to cover her face.
"...You've mistaken me, Sir. I'm not Mary Mary."
"Then where did you get that ring, My Lady?"
The cheap gemstone ring still adorned her finger, identical to the one Lancel wore.
Marigold's lips moved silently for a moment before she stammered, "I-I found it."
A flimsy excuse that even she herself couldn’t believe.
"......"
Just as a vein bulged on Lancel's forehead again, Marigold suddenly glanced up at him.
"...Sir Lancel, you're the one who..."
"...?"
A sharp glint flashed in her eyes, incongruous with their downward-cast, drooping gaze.
"...You seemed to get along so well with that other noblewoman. Clinging to her like that..."
"What are you talking about?"
"...To immediately start parading around with another woman after I disappeared... Even though I know I don't have the right to say this, having run away and all...!"
Only then did Lancel realize she had been watching him.
It was true that he had been sticking close to the First Princess ever since arriving here.
Even his brother had misunderstood the situation, so Marigold likely felt no differently after witnessing it.
Of course, Lancel had no intention of explaining himself. She would soon realize it wasn't what she thought anyway.
"Hah."
Instead, Lancel smirked, one corner of his mouth lifting. He deliberately flashed Marigold, who was watching him warily, a well-practiced sneer.
"If you run away twice, I'll keep two women by my side."
"Sir Lancel?!"
"Three times means three women, four times means four."
"Hiiiek!"
"I can't rest until I repay what I've received. This is the life of debauchery you created. If you're confident you can handle it, try running away again."
Marigold's face paled.
The vision of Lancel living surrounded by countless women seemed to overwhelm her imagination for a moment.
Lancel took a step closer to the girl, who was now biting her nails, her face drained of color.
"Since that's settled, shall we return home now? This third-rate tragedy, the kind that would be scrapped at the script stage even at the imperial theater, ends today, My Lady."
"I..."
Marigold took a step back.
"Sir Lancel, I... I...!"
As Lancel followed, she retreated two more steps.
He closed the distance in three swift strides. Finally, Marigold turned her back.
"Hmph!"
"Running away?"
Marigold threw off her shoes and sprinted down the corridor of the Imperial Ball.
Lancel, momentarily stunned, immediately gave chase.
"You're asking for it, Marigold!"
28.
"Heh heh, call me the abandoned woman."
Leo Dante wiped the cold sweat from his brow as he gazed at the veiled woman.
She had been in this state ever since Lancel left her alone and disappeared.
"Please, let's get up and walk around a bit."
The woman didn't respond to the hand Leo Dante extended toward her.
"Shh."
She pressed a finger to her lips and glanced around the ball.
The music had stopped.
Leo Dante could clearly hear the murmurs gradually rising around them.
"What's going on?"
"Do you know who I am?! Hey! Are you deaf?!"
"Hey! Move aside!"
The commotion was coming from the ballroom's entrance.
Leo Dante saw knights in full armor suddenly blocking the doorway.
"His Highness the Crown Prince has ordered a temporary lockdown. If you have any complaints, take them up with him."
"What? At the height of the ball? What's going on? This is like throwing a bucket of cold water on a bonfire."
"From this point forward, anyone who attempts to leave will be considered in direct defiance of orders. Please remain seated and rest for a moment."
The atmosphere had taken a distinctly ominous turn.
"So the hot-headed fool finally made his move," a veiled woman murmured.
Leo Dante didn't understand her meaning.
"Brother?"
A familiar face appeared before him.
"Kyle!"
It was his younger brother, Kyle Dante, clad in full armor.
To encounter both of his younger brothers in succession at the Imperial Ball was almost too absurd for Leo Dante to comprehend.
Kyle Dante was panting, the heat trapped within his armor rising in visible waves like shimmering haze.
"Kyle, what are you doing here again? And why are you sweating so much?"
"His Highness the Crown Prince ordered me to find someone... Weren't you here for the same reason, brother?"
"What?"
"A woman named Marigold, with golden hair and green eyes. His Highness is making a huge fuss about finding her, so I'm stuck doing this."
Kyle Dante removed his helmet and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"He said to use force if necessary to bring her back. Isn't that why you're here too, brother?"
"How did you know about that...?"
The two exchanged puzzled glances.
It was then that the veiled woman rose to her feet.
"Leo Dante, Kyle Dante."
Both brothers turned their heads simultaneously.
"You two will have to help me. In place of Lancel Dante, who dared to abandon me and flee so heartlessly."
A hint of resentment lingered in her voice as she threw off her veil.
"......!"
The two men froze simultaneously upon seeing the woman's face.
Hidden beneath the veil was the face of perhaps the most famous person in the capital—one whose portrait hung framed throughout the Imperial Family's residences and across the Empire.
"Y-Your Highness...!"
As she watched their horrified reactions, a gentle smile curved her lips.
"Escort me to the Imperial Palace. We must find Marigold quickly, before my foolish brothers resort to drastic measures."
29.
"Aaaah!"
"Watch out!"
"Who's there?!"
Marigold darted nimbly up the narrow corridor.
Maids ascending and descending the staircase, barely wide enough for two people, screamed and retreated. Guards and knights shouted orders, but Marigold's movements were always a step ahead.
"Ugh! Don't follow me, Sir Lancel!"
"You're certainly fast when you're running away, Mary!"
Lancel pursued her, keeping just out of reach.
"Oh my!"
"How dangerous!"
"Don't run on the stairs!"
The maids who were carrying laundry tripped, scattering fabric across the steps.
Lancel dodged the falling clothes and leaped up two or three steps at a time.
Marigold's back was now within arm's reach.
"Hiyak!"
"Got you."
With a triumphant shout, Lancel grabbed her arm and spun her around. Her tear-filled eyes met his.
Whoosh!
At the top of the bell tower, on the eighth floor, the highest point of the tower, the illuminated festival streets of the capital stretched out before them in a single sweeping view.
Lancel barely managed to grab Marigold's arm and back, stopping her from plummeting over the edge.
"That's dangerous."
"If I jump from here... would you stop chasing me?"
Lancel frowned at the woman's tearful expression. "Why are you going to such lengths to push me away? Do you hate me?"
"That's...!" Marigold exclaimed, startled. "...That's impossible. You're the only person left in my life."
"Then why do you keep running away from the only person you have left? That's what I'm asking."
Marigold averted her gaze. "It's not because I hate you, Sir Lancel."
"Then what is it? Was being with me a disadvantage for you?"
"No!"
"Did you find marriage more boring than you expected?"
"That's absurd!"
"Did seeing me up close make you lose interest?"
"N-no! That's impossible, Sir Lancel!"
"Then why?"
Lancel grabbed Marigold by the shoulders and demanded an answer. Her eyes finally overflowed with tears.
Looking back, she had always been honest about her feelings, which was one of her strengths.
But now she was trying to hide her true feelings.
Lancel didn't like that. He had no intention of letting her avoid answering.
He pressed her relentlessly.
"If it's not because you hate me, find me boring, or it's a disadvantage, then why?"
That's when it happened.
Lancel's gaze faltered at Marigold's reaction.
"Hwaaah..."
Marigold.
The regressor before him was crying like a child.
She hiccuped intermittently, unable to stop the tears, sniffing repeatedly.
The words she tried to speak caught in her throat, retreating again and again.
She seemed overwhelmed by the emotions that had burst forth.
When Marigold finally managed to open her mouth, an utterly unexpected answer slipped out.
"Because being with me makes Sir Lancel unhappy."
Lancel was puzzled.
His expression went blank.
"Unhappy?"
Marigold gasped for breath, her arm pressed against her tear-stained cheek.
The Lady of the Marigold Family.
The Princess of the Old Empire.
A regressor.
No, she was just a crybaby.
"If I weren't here, Sir Lancel would live happily. But whenever you're with me, you're always unhappy."
"That's nonsense. Who's unhappy?"
"I'm telling you, you're unhappy."
That couldn't be true.
He was just a bit busy.
Marigold was such an unpredictable person that he was a little overwhelmed. ‘Unhappy?’
"You died because of me, suffered losses because of me, got hurt whenever you were with me, were dragged around by my hopeless self, and always stayed by my side despite nothing but misfortune...!"
"Nonsense."
"It's true...!" Marigold shouted, her voice strained. "It's true... In my memories, Sir Lancel has always been..."
Lancel's words caught in his throat. Every memory of his time with Marigold flashed through his mind.
"If I weren't by your side, Sir Lancel..."
Lancel once again tried to see himself through Marigold's eyes.
"...!"
The young nobleman, Lancel Dante.
The man who had always been in her memories.
The man who had lived for her, died for her, and wielded his sword for her.
The man who had moved his naturally lazy, heavy body for her sake.
That was Lancel Dante as Marigold remembered him.
"I did everything..."
He trailed off, his words catching in his throat.
He had almost blurted out, ‘I did everything for you!’
But even those words would have been no answer for Marigold.
In fact, they would have only trapped him further.
‘Could it be...?’
Watching Marigold weep like a child, Lancel finally realized his greatest mistake.
‘Was it all because of me?’
Yes.
Could it be that all his actions, intended to make Marigold happy, had instead brought her misery?
Could it be that every action of his, which seemed to bring him only loss, had gradually crushed Marigold's spirit with each repeated cycle?
The cycle ends.
Then it begins again.
The cycle ends.
Then it begins again.
What accumulated in Marigold’s endlessly repeating memories might have been the tragedy of Lancel himself.
It might have continued endlessly, piling up and piling up until nothing else remained.
And then the regressor Marigold opened her eyes.
She finally remembered everything.
What thoughts must have flooded her mind amidst the torrent of memories? What must she have felt as she recalled countless tragedies involving Lancel?
Guilt? Regret? Perhaps self-reproach?
To be honest, Lancel didn’t know.
It couldn't have been a positive emotion.
Marigold was that kind of person.
"...You shouldn't be with me, Sir Lancel..."
She was pleading, almost begging.
"...I shouldn't be by your side, Sir Lancel. It will only bring you misfortune. Hic..."
It was all Lancel's own fault.
"... "
At the top of the bell tower, overlooking the capital's festival.
Amidst the lantern-lit scenery, Marigold wept.
‘Mary.’
Lancel finally understood what he had done wrong all along.
It was only natural that Marigold's happiness never came.
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