12 O’Clock Marionette

Did he think I was saying that because I wanted to?
I glared at Cruello in sheer disbelief.

He only laughed.
“Alright, alright. I’ll take this seriously. For now.”
With a flick of his hand, my clothes transformed into a pale blue dress.

My disheveled hair was neatly arranged, and even an ornate hairpiece appeared in place.
Cruello’s outfit had also changed, now identical to what the dummy had been wearing.
Magic was ridiculously convenient.

“And now…”
With another snap of his fingers, the lights in the ceremonial hall went out.
The guests stirred in confusion, but I only blinked a couple of times.

This felt… familiar.
“…A poltergeist trick?”
“The main characters need a grand entrance.”

He grabbed my hand again and snapped his fingers.
The world flipped upside down.
Blinding darkness swallowed my vision.

And in the next instant—
Our positions had switched with the dummies.
I forced myself not to look toward the window, where the discarded dummy had been relocated.

Taking a deep breath, I steadied myself.
The lights flickered back on.
Count Goldenstove stood before us, scowling deeply.
But judging by his expression, he hadn’t noticed anything.

“…Your Highness, I must ask that you refrain from playing games during the engagement ceremony.”
“Hmm, I was just a little bored. My apologies.”
“…How much time is left?”

The Count grumbled a few more times before letting out a short sigh.
Then, as if choosing to let it slide, she eased the tension in her brow.
“Very well. We shall conclude the ceremony with the Oath’s Kiss.”

…What?
I furrowed my brow.
A kiss?

This was only an engagement, not a wedding.
I must have misheard.
I turned to look at Cruello, but he only smiled, clearly amused.

Then, in an exaggerated motion, he mouthed the words:
“Can’t do it?”
His expression was downright provoking.

But I had no choice but to take the bait.
Can’t do it?
Please! There was nothing in this world that I couldn’t do.

Yeah, that’s right.
It wasn’t like this was a funeral.
A little kiss during an engagement ceremony—so what?

Refusing to hesitate, I grabbed Cruello’s face with both hands and pulled him forward.
Hesitation would only make this worse.
Our lips met.

“Mmph?”
I had expected Cruello to be ice cold.
Surprisingly, he was warm.

And softer than I thought—wait, no!
I pulled back quickly, making sure my movements didn’t seem too rushed.
When I looked up, I caught a rare glimpse of Cruello’s expression—completely blank, as if caught off guard.

Victory!
Then—
“…Gasp.”

Somewhere in the hall, someone inhaled sharply.
That sound.
It was the same reaction people had when Cruello did something insane.

But why?
A kiss didn’t have some alternate meaning in imperial language, did it?
A growing sense of dread slithered up my spine.

I subtly glanced around the hall.
My gaze met Gavotte’s.
His face looked like that of a dead fish.

What?
I mouthed the question.
Gavotte’s expression soured further.

Then, he raised his hand—
And pointed at his lips.
Next, he made an X with his fingers.

After that, he pointed to his forehead—
And made an O.
So, what he meant was…

“…It was supposed to be on the forehead?”
“Ahem. Well, that concludes the ceremony! Now, the couple shall raise their glasses for a toast—”
Count Goldenstove was still speaking, but my brain had gone blank.

Not on the lips.
Not on the lips.
Not on the—

***
Cruello and I walked toward the waiting room.
I kept my head down, picking up my pace.

This was humiliating.
I had never made such a mistake before.
“Is it really that embarrassing?”

Cruello asked.
His tone wasn’t teasing—he sounded genuinely curious.
I glanced around at the passing servants, then lowered my voice.

“This is the Count’s fault! She clearly said ‘kiss’!”
“She did.”
“Then why didn’t you dodge? You knew it was supposed to be the forehead!”

“…I was surprised?”
“Oh, sure. You even provoked me beforehand.”
“I only asked because I’m taller than you. How were you supposed to reach my forehead?”

This slippery eel.
“…Just think of it as practice, darling. You do have to kiss for real at the wedding.”
“Does nothing embarrass you?”

“If I felt shame, I wouldn’t be able to live like this.”
…That was actually a good point.
I nodded in agreement.

For some reason, seeing him so unbothered made me feel calmer.
Yeah.
This wasn’t a big deal.

And besides, this wasn’t even my body.
It was Siora’s.
Once all of this was over, I’d return to my real self.

It wouldn’t matter anymore.
With my thoughts neatly justified, I lifted my head again.
We had arrived at the waiting room.

I was planning to stay inside until the guests had left.
But then—
“Cruello, aren’t you going to see off the guests?”

“The steward can handle it.”
“Oh?”
“You know I’m just a scarecrow.”

That sounded like an insult, but he made it seem practical.
He was surprisingly skilled at using it as a shield.
Well, whether he took responsibility or not wasn’t my problem.

I nodded and reached for the door handle.
But before I could open it—
“Siora.”

A familiar voice called out.
I turned my head.
It was Minuet.

Gavotte was with her.
Where was the Count?
“Congratulations on completing the ceremony safely, Your Highness.”

“…Congratulations.”
Both of them addressed Cruello first.
Then—

Minuet shot him a pointed look.
She wanted him to leave.
But Cruello, unfazed as ever, didn’t budge an inch.

“Thanks for the well wishes.”
Instead of leaving, he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, as if inviting them to speak.
Minuet quirked an eyebrow, then let it go.

She turned to me.
“You’re rather bold, aren’t you?”
“…I guess I am.”

Ah, right—
“Where’s the Count—”
“You grabbed His Highness’s face and—”

“Ah!”
I had tried to change the subject, but it didn’t work.
Startled, I raised my voice, and Gavotte instinctively covered his ears while Minuet chuckled in amusement.

“You’re embarrassed over something like this?”
…Just what did Minuet take me for?
Did she think I was like Cruello?

The thought made me feel uncomfortably grimy.
Shaking my head to dispel it, my gaze landed on the bottle Minuet was holding.
“What’s that?”

“A celebratory drink from Father. He originally planned to pour it himself in the waiting room, but he never showed up. I’ll just give it to you instead.”
“…Where did he go?”
“No idea. He stepped out toward the end of the ceremony, said he had something to handle, and never came back.”

At Gavotte’s words, I narrowed my eyes.
Hmm.
Would it be overreacting to find that suspicious?

Well, it wasn’t like I had to drink it anyway.
I reached out to take the bottle from Minuet—
“…Minuet?”

“……”
“You’ll have to loosen your grip if you want me to take it.”
Why was she holding onto it so tightly?

Her grip was surprisingly strong—I couldn’t pull it away easily.
Minuet kept looking between the bottle and me, expression unreadable.
Then—

“I changed my mind.”
“…What?”
“Don’t drink it.”

She pulled the bottle back.
Uh…
“…Are you saying you don’t want to celebrate? After all this?”

“Don’t overanalyze it. I just don’t think drinking here is a good idea.”
She exhaled lightly and smiled.
It was her usual smile—yet something about it felt off.

Especially since Cruello was silently watching the whole exchange.
The atmosphere suddenly felt… wrong.
“Enough talking out here. Let’s go inside the waiting room. Your Highness, you’ll be joining us too, right?”

Minuet turned the door handle.
The door opened—
But she didn’t step inside.

“…What is that smell?”
Gavotte muttered.
The moment the door swung open, the stench hit us—

A thick, metallic scent.
And it wasn’t just the smell.
The entire floor of the waiting room was stained red.

A shattered vase lay among red-drenched flowers.
And in the middle of it all—
“…Father?”

Count Bonetti.
The stench of death filled the air.
***

By the time I checked the Count’s condition, it was already too late.
His soul was completely gone.
Which meant…

Even using Reversal wouldn’t bring him back.
The engagement ceremony was immediately followed by a funeral.
Since it was not a natural death, the proceedings were held privately—only for family.

As if mourning his passing, the sky poured down relentless rain, and those bearing the Bonetti name gathered at the estate.
Black hats. Black veils. Black coats.
Even though it was a family-only funeral, a considerable number of people attended.

It looked like a vast sea of black waves.
The priest finished his rites, leaving the chapel empty aside from the immediate family surrounding the Count’s coffin.
Minuet, Gavotte—and the Countess, who had been recovering in seclusion.

It wasn’t my place to approach.
So I watched from a distance.
A man dressed in black approached me.

Cruello.
“I checked for traces. It was the Tenth Elder.”
His certainty made my emotions churn.

“…So the original target was me.”
“But the Count stepped into the waiting room first.”
Cruello’s tone was matter-of-fact.

I had no idea why the Count had gone into my waiting room in the first place.
But the outcome was clear.
My stomach twisted unpleasantly.

I scowled, lowering my head—then lifted my gaze to meet Cruello’s.
His face was completely devoid of emotion.
There was not even a flicker of mourning for the Count.

But somehow, that ashen expression suited the funeral.
The words left my mouth before I even thought about them.
“…Was this my fault?”

“No.”
“……”
“If it bothers you, you can blame me instead. I didn’t expect Ares to kill him.”

It was meant to comfort me.
But for some reason, the entire situation suddenly irritated me.
I let out a deep sigh.

“Cruello. I might not be a Bonetti for much longer.”
“…Does that matter?”
He reached out and adjusted my hat, straightening it.

“If they throw you out, come find me.”
His faint smile wasn’t mocking.
For some reason, that made me nod.

Yeah.
There was nothing to fear anymore.
At that moment—

“Siora.”
Minuet called my name.
“It’s time for the final farewell.”

Cruello gave a small nod before leaving the chapel.
I watched his back disappear before turning toward the Bonetti family.
Gavotte’s eyes were swollen red, making him look like a fish.

Minuet’s were red-rimmed too.
And then—the Countess.
“…So you’re Siora.”

She had the same silver hair as her children, neatly tied up.
But her frail frame looked as though she could collapse at any moment.
That was unsurprising, considering she had been recovering in seclusion due to her poor health.

She looked at me with grief in her eyes and gave a soft nod.
“…It’s a pleasure to meet you, Countess.”
“I didn’t expect to meet you under these circumstances, but I’m glad to finally see you.”

She handed me a lily.
“Give Paspié your final farewell.”
Three lilies already rested over the Count’s chest.

I took a step forward, lowering my head.
As I reached out to place the flower, a thought crossed my mind.
Was it right for me to add another?

By no means could he be called a good person.
He was one of the worst.
But he had died because of me.

In the end…
The funeral came to a quiet close.