Subliminal Wayfarer

“Quite confident, isn’t he.”

Even though Crown Prince Gueuze was the primary heir, the king had not yet passed the throne to his son. Nonetheless, the crown prince was somewhat popular among the people who were unaware of his true nature.

Rather, his drug use and drunkenness, along with rumors of his devastation over the death of his first love, oddly endeared him to the public. The current king was under pressure for not relinquishing the throne to his first son.

With Prince Lewis’s death, the king would have to make a decision even more swiftly.

Verdic scratched his head, pondering how to hand over Carynne. Dozens of methods and schemes crossed his mind, most requiring considerable time.

“It’s difficult at the moment.”

“Yes, I’ll convey that. And…”

The man hesitated again, causing Verdic further unease.

 

* * *

 

As Raymond had predicted, Verdic couldn’t stay much longer.

After hearing the news, Verdic slumped down on the spot.

He had clung onto hope until the very bitter end. It was the last thing he wanted to hear.

He cursed himself for wishing he had no hope just moments ago. He should have acted differently. He should not have just searched this house. He should not have focused on the postal service. He should have gone elsewhere.

 

“A body presumed to be Isella Evans has been found.”

 

And the location was far removed from this place.

 

* * *

 

Now, only the two of them remained.

Verdic left immediately upon hearing that a body presumed to be Isella was found, not even bidding them farewell.

“Raymond.”

“Yes?”

“Did you know that Verdic Evans would leave soon because of the news about Isella?”

“Yes, I did.”

Carynne looked up at Raymond. He seemed slightly thinner, but his face still bore an unchanged smile.

The look he gave her was always that of a young man in love.

Carynne smiled back, grateful for everything this man had done for her.

If she felt pity for Verdic, it would have been the most bothersome luxury in the world.

What had he been doing all this time?

To her, the people around her seemed like characters moving on paper.

But now, they felt like wandering ghosts.

And most importantly, as her love for Raymond grew, the guilt that had been gnawing at her slowly rose to the surface. It engulfed her like water.

“Carynne, you don’t look well.”

“It’s nothing… I’m fine.”

“Is something bothering you?”

Raymond asked. He seemed to have lost sleep by now. But Carynne just lay facing him.

“I wish you would just tell me. You never say everything either.”

“If you want… I will tell you.”

Raymond hesitated in his response. But Carynne didn’t want to trouble him. She just reached out and gently swept his disheveled hair back. She already had an inkling of the truths he held close.

No matter what Raymond did, who he killed, or who he made to suffer, it’s all for her.

Carynne found this thought no longer troubling. The guilt, love, and everything she felt, Raymond alone was enough.

Raymond didn’t need to feel guilty for her.

But she had to.

Because she was the one who drew him into this.

“It’s not that. It’s just… I feel apologetic.”

“You don’t need to feel that way for me.”

But it’s because of me that you fell to my side.

Carynne couldn’t speak.

It was undoubtedly her choice that brought Raymond into this paper world.

She dragged him down here with her.

That’s why Carynne felt breathless whenever she looked at Raymond.

 

* * *

 

And then, that day arrived.

 

* * *

 

Within just two days, Verdic arrived at the capital. He didn’t know how fast the carriage had traveled.

For two days, he couldn’t utter a word. Stepping out of the carriage, he was greeted with, “You’ve arrived,” and led inside. Verdic, trembling, followed into the interior.

He was taken to a morgue. Initially, Verdic almost protested, thinking he was in the wrong place. But seeing Inspector Albert standing rigidly, he approached closer.

His hand shaking, Verdic reached for the cloth covering the body. He needed to confirm, but feared to do so. Yet, it was necessary.

“……”

Verdic pulled back the cloth and looked down.

“Isella.”

The body inside was unmistakably not that of a living person. Nor did it seem like a typical corpse.

For a long while, he couldn’t say anything. It looked more like a decorative piece. A man from behind spoke.

“We compared it with the hair you provided earlier, and the body’s height and physique closely resemble your missing daughter.”

But that was it.

Verdic wanted to immediately deny, saying ‘This is not my daughter’.

However his mind, gone cold, couldn’t simply reject reality.

“Nothing else?”

“…That’s why we need your confirmation, Mister Evans.”

It looked more ghastly than dreadful.

Most of the corpse was preserved like a doll. It appeared more like a doll made of human parts than a person.

The head was shaved, and a red wig was placed on it. A crown adorned the wig. The face was concealed with a mask. The hands were so intricately arranged, making it difficult to tell if they were real or a part of a doll.

“The hair was cut short, but we were able to do a color match with the hair left for securing the wig.”

“…My daughter wouldn’t wear such clothes.”

“The perpetrator must have dressed her.”

The body wore a slightly outdated dress. The lack of any decaying odor suggested it had been embalmed. A mask covered the face. Verdic reached out, but Inspector Albert stopped him.

“It’s better not to take it off.”

“How can I confirm without seeing?”

“The face had already skeletonized.”

“What about the hands, still intact?”

“They had been surgically removed.”

“……”

Verdic had to think.

I can recognize my daughter by her hair!

He wanted to shout, confident he could recognize her just by her hair.

But could he, really?

Verdic was uncertain. Acknowledging the body would be easier, but he struggled to accept that the corpse in front of him was truly his daughter Isella.

What if the hair in the parcel wasn’t Isella’s, but just similar? Could he be certain his memory was accurate? Was he just convincing himself because he wanted to believe? Verdic couldn’t be sure. Yet, he longed to make a decision, right or wrong.

Inspector Albert spoke.

“The skin… the moles or scars on it are mostly intact. Mister Verdic, can you recall any distinctive features on your daughter’s body?”

“…I’m not sure.”

Verdic answered with difficulty.

He couldn’t be certain if it was Isella.

The body… Verdic sighed. How could he know the details of his grown daughter’s body? He had rushed here, but such knowledge was likely more familiar to Isella’s maid. The girl’s body before him, too altered from the living Isella he remembered, left Verdic unsure.

Verdic lifted the corpse’s hand. It was frigid, no longer resembling a human hand. Nor did it feel like flesh.

Drained of blood, dried, and powdered, it was difficult to recognize its true nature.

“I should send a telegram to the mansion to summon her maid.”

“Yes. Mister Verdic, will you stay in the capital for now?”

“I will.”

Verdic answered briefly and adjusted his hat.

“What will you do, sir?”

“I’ll stay in my townhouse in the capital. And… there’s much to prepare.”

Verdic clenched his teeth.

He had been so nervous before arriving, but now, seeing the body, he felt oddly composed.

He knew too little now, even uncertain if the corpse was his daughter. Verdic acknowledged anew his shortcomings as a father. The misery and bitterness only made his mind colder.

One thing became clear.

This corpse was the doing of Crown Prince Gueuze.