Ultimately, this was a topic that could not be sidestepped.
Dandelion recalled that this question had been hinted at or directly asked no less than five times recently.
Individuals from the Holy See, members of the hospital department, and even agents from the Epidemic Prevention Bureau had all broached the subject.
Yet, it seemed utterly unrelated to the ongoing investigation.
He readily admitted to harboring a significant fondness for the young woman before him.
Her beauty was truly beyond compare; no man of sound mind could remain unmoved by her presence.
While he had consistently cooperated and answered questions, claiming he harbored no such thoughts would be a lie.
However, certain truths were undeniable, leaving him no choice but to respond with honesty.
“I regret to say, I do not know.”
“I once directly questioned both parties, receiving trivial excuses akin to a lovers’ quarrel. Yet, I know my sister would never make such a profound decision over mere trifles.”
“Do you recall when it all began?” Konehl-Ghervil inquired, her resolve unshaken. Indeed, this lack of information was only natural, given that not a single rumor of their estrangement had circulated outwardly.
The intelligence network of the Epidemic Prevention Bureau was paramount throughout the entire kingdom, even encompassing the police system. Thus, Valo-Ramsey had no reason to conceal anything from her.
“It began approximately two years ago. After my father returned from his expedition to the desert, my sister’s demeanor towards him gradually shifted. Their disagreements commenced then, and have persisted to this very day.”
Dandelion lowered his head, a palpable reluctance to revisit the past clinging to his expression.
At this juncture, the conversation had evidently run its course.
Having gleaned most of what she sought, she recognized that the Baron’s eldest son, being a protected individual, likely possessed no further pertinent information.
“You may pose any questions to me, and I shall endeavor to answer them as best I can.”
Whether out of sheer courtesy or as a gesture of fair exchange, Konehl-Ghervil deemed it improper to simply depart.
Imagine being inexplicably summoned into a dream for a conversation, subjected to a barrage of questions concerning your family’s most private affairs as if you were a common criminal, only for your interrogator to then depart without a single word. Such an experience would surely leave anyone feeling aggrieved.
Knowing that her interlocutor was not, in truth, a criminal, she wished to avoid fostering such resentment or misunderstanding.
“You will answer everything you know!?”
Dandelion, it seemed, had been anticipating this very moment. His eyes widened, and his hands gripped the hem of his garment, a tremor of excitement evident in his demeanor.
“You may certainly believe so.”
Konehl-Ghervil offered a gentle nod.
Should she possess knowledge she was unable to disclose, she would simply parry with another plausible explanation.
“I wish to know when I might be free of this affliction?”
He gestured wildly, his hands sweeping through the air, clearly referring to the dim, monotonous, and utterly uninteresting room that confined him.
It was evident that he had endured this suppression for an extended period.
Yet, Konehl-Ghervil found herself utterly powerless, and, moreover, entirely ignorant of the answer to his query.
“That depends entirely on when the investigation concludes.”
Dandelion’s enthusiasm visibly waned, and he ceased all his animated gestures.
“…Might I trouble you with one more, albeit minor, request?”
‘Was this a retreat to a lesser demand?’
Konehl-Ghervil recalled Govet-Ghervil’s words, a slight tension coiling in her nerves.
This fleeting tension quickly dissipated, for she had already devised a suitable response.
“I am eager to hear it.”
“Sister Konehl-Ghervil… have you ever considered pursuing opportunities outside The Order?”
His throat bobbed as Dandelion finally articulated his request.
“The Cambaton family possesses considerable influence. While its standing might not rival that of The Order, I assure you that, in terms of wealth and prestige, I can guarantee you a life free from worry.”
Having uttered his plea in a single breath, he felt a certain inadequacy. Were it not for her current status as a nun, he would have, without a moment’s hesitation, proposed marriage on the spot.
Some matters, however, could not be rushed; they required careful, incremental progression. He knew that if this initial step proved successful, all subsequent ones would become considerably easier.
“This is hardly a minor request.”
Konehl-Ghervil responded without the slightest trace of perturbation.
“I understand, but I still implore you to consider it with utmost seriousness. The wealth of the Cambaton family…”
“Do you possess a devout faith in the Goddess?” she interjected, cutting him off.
“…Of course!”
Dandelion, though somewhat bewildered by the unexpected query, nonetheless thumped his chest in affirmation.
“Indeed. I imagine most individuals would offer the same response to such a question.”
“And I am no different.”
Her gaze pierced his, and her voice dropped to a near whisper,
“For the sake of my faith, I would willingly forfeit my life. Can you claim the same?”
Though he had intended to declare his capability, Dandelion found himself staring into a pair of mesmerizing, crimson eyes that seemed to plumb the depths of his very soul, drawing forth his innermost, unvarnished thoughts.
Consequently, his reply devolved into a rambling delirium,
“I… I cannot… I believe such individuals are nothing short of madmen! This is precisely why I do not wish for my sister to join The Order… To consort with lunatics is to eventually become one! Perhaps this current predicament is merely a result of their insidious influence…”
‘So, these were your true sentiments.’
A subtle upturn graced Konehl-Ghervil’s lips. She produced a single petal, which shimmered and transformed into a mask, donning it before rising to leave the room.
When Dandelion finally regained his senses, finding the room eerily empty save for himself, the words he had just uttered echoed once more in his ears.
His pupils trembled. He strode decisively to the door, shutting it with a definitive click, then turned back to draw the heavy curtains. Returning to his bedside, he fumbled for a book and pressed it over his face, obscuring his vision entirely. Only then did a semblance of calm begin to settle over him.
Should The Order choose to investigate, those very words would be sufficient to drag his entire lineage into an inescapable abyss.
He felt immensely fortunate that Sister Konehl-Ghervil was a ‘good person,’ having feigned deafness and departed without a word.
Concurrently, a chilling apprehension settled deep within him regarding his own unguarded thoughts.
****
Within the return tunnel, Govet-Ghervil, surprisingly, offered no complaint regarding Konehl-Ghervil’s use of her dream abilities.
She did not even deign to comment on Konehl-Ghervil’s actions.
Indeed, Konehl-Ghervil had ventured to employ mind suggestion.
Her initial attempt had proven successful, yielding unexpectedly favorable results, though it was somewhat challenging to control. She had certainly not intended for the Baron’s eldest son to divulge quite so much.
“Is my talent truly exceptional?” she mused silently.
“Did you experience any physical discomfort after its use?”
“None whatsoever; everything feels perfectly normal.”
“Could it truly not be due to a medical condition…?”
At the tunnel’s radiant terminus, she discerned four figures awaiting her… or rather, five, for an additional person had joined them. Disregarding Govet-Ghervil’s continued murmuring, Konehl-Ghervil stepped forward.
“My apologies for the wait, everyone… And this would be?”
“It is indeed a pleasure to see you unharmed, Ms. Rowan.”
The voice belonged to Valo-Ramsey.
He was seated upon a rattan chair, his mask starkly divided into halves of black and white.
With one hand, he pushed his mask aside, a blade of foxtail grass dangling casually from his lips. Upon seeing her emerge, he instantly closed the distance between them.
“The chaps from the Epidemic Prevention Bureau have apprised me of the assassination attempt. Why, pray tell, would you choose to reside in such an abode?”
Accompanying him was the keenly scrutinizing gaze of Dr. Callan.
“…Fewer people means my research remains undisturbed. I simply prefer tranquil locales…”
Even Konehl-Ghervil felt a flicker of unease about her own explanation.
It was undeniably contrived.
She could hardly admit that she resided there merely to evade a certain individual.
Furthermore, she remained unaware of the extent of Valo-Ramsey’s disclosures, and any minor misstep could easily lead to discrepancies in their accounts.
“Never mind. Everyone possesses their secrets, and yours hold no interest for me.” With a dismissive wave of Dr. Callan’s hand, a collective sigh of relief swept through those present.
“Next time, remember to concoct a more plausible excuse. That location, nestled behind the factories, offers little more tranquility than the city proper, especially during daylight hours.”
As they proceeded towards the edge of the sky garden, the two hospital department members trailing behind them offered a deferential gesture. From ahead, a woman’s voice drifted, clear and commanding,
“Do tell, madam, whether the information you extracted from the Cambaton family’s eldest son warrants a deeper level of investigation on your part.”