Beatrice suddenly found herself missing Castel.
That place had always been full of life. Everyone was busy, as though there was always work left unfinished, as though there was always a better tomorrow ahead. Unlike here, where pedestrians by the roadside looked like corpses waiting to rot.
Come to think of it, only now did she suddenly understand what Count Theus had done. He had clearly been using her.
Beatrice felt that she ought to be angry, yet what welled up in her chest was the exact opposite emotion.
Many people wanted to use her. She had seen plenty of them these past days. Their methods were more polished, and what they did was easier to accept, yet all she felt toward them was disgust.
Why was Count Theus different?
She could not explain it clearly. This time, an Investigator's abilities could not help her. She could see through other people's disguises, yet she could not even distinguish what she herself truly thought.
Perhaps he was simply special.
Just like this cramped, shabby room. It lacked the splendor and grandeur of the manor's villa, yet it gave her a faint sense of warmth and allowed her to rest for a while.
What was so good about Castel? She did not know either. It was simply that lively feeling, with hope on everyone's faces. It really was nice.
After a long time, she inexplicably wanted to get in touch with them. Even sending a few meaningless greetings would do. As long as she felt that her connection to that little island remained, she felt comforted.
It was like the soft cushion she had loved most as a child. She would use it to build a castle, crawl inside, and lie there all day, refusing to come out no matter who called