Chapter 72: Volume 3 - CH 2.1

—Bedroom 1—

The warm morning sun shone through the closed French windows of the bedroom. The bobbin lace curtains were half open, bringing light into the small room.

“Achoo!”

Victorique was sleeping face down on a canopied bed. Her face was pressed against a large, frilled pillow, and her little head rocked with each occasional sneeze.

Her long, golden hair spread loosely on the silk sheets. It shifted a little every time she sneezed.

Victorique slowly lifted her head.

Her cheeks were red, and her emerald eyes, usually ruthless, were moist as wet jewels.

“Achoo! Achoo! Achoo!”

After sneezing in succession, her head plopped back down on the pillow.

A flicker of what seemed like anger crossed her face.

Her little lips, red like ripe cherries, parted. “Kujou’s gone out, huh?” she mumbled.

The bedroom was quiet once more.

Victorique’s moist eyes again flashed with anger.

“The nerve of him… Going out all excited…”

She rolled over on her back and stared blankly at the mosaic glass lamp hanging from the ceiling. The heat blurred her vision, and she blinked repeatedly.

Unable to take the heat, she closed her eyes. “He went out alone…”

Sulking, she pulled the feather comforter and slipped deeper into the bed, her tiny body disappearing under the covers. The luxurious but tiny bedroom appeared to be empty now.

“Achoo!” The comforter shook. “Achoo! Achooooo!”

After a series of sneezes, silence came.

Then, an odd sound came from under the sheets. She was either crying, or her nose itched.

Outside the window, a small bird perched on the flower bed chirped.

Chapter 2: The Blue Rose

The whistle blew.

With his bag in hand, Kazuya scurried into the small station, the only one in the village, and hurried down the platform, which shook to the roar of the train that had arrived. It being the weekend, the train was packed with people traveling from the boondocks to the city. Villagers dressed in fashionable clothes raced to be the first on the train. Kazuya got in line and boarded through the big iron door.

He walked down a narrow corridor and peered into the small glass windows of each compartment, but there were already three or four people sitting. Some were flipping through books, some were opening lunch boxes filled with roasted chicken and bread, and some were simply making themselves at home. Every section was crowded, so Kazuya changed his mind about finding a seat. And if he, a rare oriental boy, joined a lady with a child, he would be asked about his name, age, the school he was going to, among others. He had already experienced this on the first train ride to St. Marguerite Academy after arriving in Sauville.

When Kazuya found a compartment with only one young man, who was looking out of the window with his chin in his hand, he decided to enter.

He gently opened the metal door. “May I?” he asked.

Looking out the window, the man said coolly, “Feel free.”

Kazuya closed the door and took a seat across from the man. He looked like a noble, dressed in a very expensive-looking silk shirt, silver cuffs, and shiny boots. He looked more fashionable than some women. He was looking out the window in a grandiose pose, his legs crossed and his chin resting in his hand.

The man sighed and turned his face to Kazuya.

Kazuya gasped and half-rose to his feet.

On the man’s head was a shiny and pointy, golden drill-shaped hair. It was Inspector Grevil de Blois.

When the inspector realized that it was Kazuya who entered the compartment, at first his mouth dropped open in surprise, then he frowned deeply.

“Tch. It’s just you.”

“That’s my line! I think I’ll just find a different compartment.”

“Everywhere else is full.”

“Right…”

Kazuya reluctantly sat back down.

Both he and the inspector seemed disheartened.

After a few moments of silence, the inspector expressed what they both felt.

“To think we would run into each other here. How laughable.”

“You can say that again.”

They remained silent for a while, looking out the window, checking their shopping list. After about thirty minutes, boredom struck.

“How about a chat, Kujou?” the inspector said.

“A chat? Us?”

“There’s no one else here, unfortunately.”

When Kazuya reluctantly nodded, the inspector turned to him with a serious face.

The question was: what would they chat about? At first, they talked about world affairs and the recent Great War, but the inspector, who belonged to the aristocracy of Sauville, a powerful nation in Western Europe, and Kazuya, a bright young man from an island county in the Far East, had very different ways of thinking about everything. When Kazuya was about to win an argument, Inspector Blois quickly changed the subject.

“By the way, Kujou.”

“What is it?” Kazuya scoffed. It had been a while since he beat someone in an argument, so he was all fired up.

“Speaking of the Great War, do you know why I’m on my way to Saubreme right now?”

“How should I know? I’m not Victorique. I don’t know unless you tell me.” He snorted. “I’m just a simpleton, after all.” The sudden change in subject left him a little bemused.

“What are you getting all worked up about?” Inspector looked dumbfounded. “Anyway, I’m going to Saubreme because I’ve been summoned by the Sauville police department. The current Superintendent-General, Mr. Signore, had climbed the ranks at a young age, but he’s awfully dull. They are counting on me, a famed inspector, to solve a case that’s giving them a headache.”

“Are you sure you’re okay on your own?” Kazuya asked.

Inspector Blois ignored his snide remark. “What do you think Sauville lost during the Great War?”

“Lost? Well, we won the war, so I guess young soldiers’ lives, historic buildings, and…”

“A royal treasure.” The inspector clicked his tongue bitterly. “Sauville’s royal treasury was ransacked during the height of the war. Countless works of art of historical value disappeared. It was long thought that they had since been bought by some nouveau riche from the New World, but it seems they have been in this kingdom all along.”

Kazuya thought he had heard the same story recently from someone.

“Said artworks have been appearing on Sauville’s black market over the last few years. And that’s not all. Treasures of the Romanov family, which were supposedly brought to Europe just before the Russian Revolution in 1917 and then vanished, and treasures of ancient civilizations from the colonies have been appearing on the European black market. What’s more, the black market is apparently located in Saubreme. There have been reports recently of Western European collectors visiting Sauville secretly. But they’re elusive. That’s why headquarters called me, a man with a brilliant mind, for help. How’s that?”

“How’s what?”

“Isn’t it great?”

“Uh, I guess.” Kazuya nodded.

The inspector shook his head with a sigh, then began carefully fixing his pointy, drill-shaped hair. He watched Kazuya, looking bored. He then pulled a pocket watch from his pocket and opened it.

“Still an hour to go,” he said gravely.

“Yeah…”

“Your turn, Kujou. Share something interesting.”

“No way!” Kazuya turned away. He shifted his attention to the scenery outside the window.

The train had left the lush greenery of the mountains and was gradually approaching the city. There were less greens now and more flatlands. Cars and horse-drawn carriages rolled past rows of houses.

Shopping alone is kinda lonely, Kazuya thought.

Then he remembered the time he went out on a trip with his little friend Victorique.

Strangely enough, the irritation he felt earlier when he read Victorique’s reply had vanished. He recalled the first time he went out with Victorique and her bizarre behavior back then.

She didn’t know how to buy a ticket, didn’t know how much money she needed, and kept wandering left and right. While on the train, she looked out the window in wonder, and when they arrived at the city station, she would point at all sorts of things and ask him what they were. She was shocked when he whistled to hail a carriage.

At that time, Kazuya did not know anything about Victorique’s situation, so he asked her if she didn’t go out much. Immediately after, Victorique’s mood turned sour and she fell silent. But he found her pouty face adorable too.

The second time they went out, Victorique was in an awful mood from the beginning, ignoring Kazuya on the way. But in the end, Victorique told him that they would go back together.

That was enough for Kazuya. He would get mad at her mean and sharp tongue, but a single word from her would magically make his anger go away.

Sensing a gaze, Kazuya raised his head and found Inspector Blois staring at him.

“Why are you the one who’s here with me?” Kazuya mumbled.

“That’s my line.”

Sad thoughts seemed to be running through the inspector’s head; his eyes, the same green as his half-sister’s, were slightly moist.

He shot Kazuya a resentful glare. “Your presence really pisses me off,” he said.

“The feeling’s mutual.”

“You look so dull.”

“Right back at you.”

Carrying two grumpy men, the train rattled along.

An hour later, the train finally arrived at its destination—Saubreme station.