Chapter 130.2
“I’d like nothing more than to smash this. But I suppose that wouldn’t be wise.”
“…I’m sorry.”
“Wife, why are you apologizing?”
Grace felt disoriented. More than that—the voice on the recording. She had heard it somewhere before. But where? Her thoughts tangled into a knot.
Then Andrew’s earlier words resurfaced.
‘He could have destroyed it himself…’
Magic tools were usually sturdy; most couldn’t be broken by mere physical force.
“Do you… know who it is?”
Perhaps Andrew had only meant the device itself was poorly constructed. But she couldn’t ignore the possibility.
“Not exactly. But I saw him once at a temple event. It was a large one, so I remember. He may have changed his hair color, so that won’t help much.”
I knew it…
The orphanage fire had been orchestrated by the temple. To stir scandal around Grace.
Whether the director’s death had been part of their plan or collateral damage, others could have been seriously injured or worse.
“A priest?”
Benjamin was completely unaware. His voice turned cold.
“So an insignificant priest dares to slander my wife?”
The chill in his tone sharpened into fury. His grip tightened around the device.
“Come to think of it… Count Farmer was a devout believer as well…”
He muttered to himself, piecing something together. Was this their attempt at cutting off the tail?
“I had no idea such lunatics were operating under my nose. And yet I asked you to accompany me there, unaware of any of this…”
“Y-Your Grace!”
Grace hurriedly interrupted him. Benjamin was spiraling, speaking more to himself than anyone else.
He looked at her then—with the eyes of a condemned man.
“Wife… did you know?”
“Let’s go back first. I’ll explain once we return.”
Benjamin pressed his lips thin, then nodded. As they exited the room, Grace turned back to Andrew.
“One more thing. Even if he changed his hair color, he couldn’t change his eyes. Do you remember?”
Andrew thought for a moment.
“He kept his hood pulled low, so I’m not entirely certain. But they were either pale violet… or sky blue.”
* * *
In the carriage, Benjamin said nothing, waiting for her to speak. Grace struggled with where to begin.
“If I tell you something… will you believe me?”
“If the Wife says the sun rises in the west, I will believe that too.”
She almost wished he wouldn’t. But she felt the sincerity in his voice.
“You probably know this already. After we married, I lost fragments of my memory. From that first year—and even from before.”
Benjamin did not look surprised. Not even the faint, controlled surprise of someone hiding it.
“At first, I thought I was simply… broken.”
“That was not your fault!”
“I know that now.”
She had once suspected it was a side effect of possessing this body, but that was something she could never confess.
“No matter what happened, I thought it was my fault. I felt worthless. As if I didn’t deserve to live. To be blunt… I even wanted to die. I thought all those feelings came from within me. And perhaps some of them did.”
She didn’t believe everything had been externally manufactured. The original Grace had been depressed. The temple had simply learned how to cultivate and amplify that darkness.
Everyone carried seeds of despair inside them.
“But I eventually learned that the temple had been encouraging those emotions.”
Benjamin went very still.
‘Should I tell him the Magic Tools Association was involved?’
If she did, she’d have to mention the furniture. And knowing Benjamin, he would have everything destroyed immediately. The simplest way to restore her memory would be to remove the cursed furnishings entirely.
‘But I don’t think I actually want my memories back.’
No. That part would remain secret. Just as she resolved that, she noticed his body trembling.
“Then…”
Benjamin’s eyes brimmed with tears.
“Then the medicine I always made sure you took—was that compromised as well?”
“…Um. A little? But it wasn’t serious! It was mostly just sugar pills!”
It had been very serious. But if she told him the full truth, she felt something irreparable would shatter between them.
Benjamin stared at her, silent. Then he bent forward abruptly, covering his face with both hands.
Grace watched him for a moment before gently patting his head with her soft palm.
“You… you are far too kind.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
He swallowed the rest of his words. That you can still be this gentle to a fool like me…
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