"Don't jump to conclusions. Let's look at the other victims." A voice thick with drink rang out.
No one moved. They all looked to Olin, the highest-ranking person present, and she looked to Annan.
"The stronger the evidence, the better for me." Annan shrugged. He had worried that one of the Free City People had done it in secret, but now he was sure it had nothing to do with him.
"Do as he says," Olin said.
They went next door. The sight of Cynthia's body—once so beautiful, now withered—wiped the smile from Annan's face.
The Necromancer began summoning her spirit. Annan asked Olin quietly, "Has Princess Sails been told?"
"She was the first to know."
"...How did she react?"
"She said she understood."
"I see... I'll visit her later."
Few had suffered more than Princess Sails. Her own people had betrayed and sold her out. She had lost her country and endured torture in the Dungeon. Now even one of the few people close to her had been brutally murdered.
Cynthia had "come back to life." Wearing her bloodstained dress, she stood before the wardrobe, choosing a gown.
This time they stood close, hoping to see whether Cynthia, like Monsong, knew the killer.
Her bloodless lips began to move. It was impossible to tell whether she was talking to herself or to the killer in the room. Then Annan suddenly realized her lips seemed to be forming his name...
Cynthia's body suddenly pitched into the wardrobe and went still.
"She didn't know anything. Next."
Baron turned and left the Bedroom.
The others followed, eventually reaching Ah Anok's room.
As the Necromancer cast his spell, Ah Anok rose from where he lay by the door and shuffled back to the bathroom like a walking corpse. At one point, he looked