Rube’s face turned cold—colder than Camilla had ever seen it.
But a moment later, as if nothing had happened, a faint smile returned to his lips.
“I’m afraid I don’t quite understand, my lady. I must have misheard—”
“I know you’re the one who leads it, Rube.”
Black Shadow.
The organization that had existed alongside the founding of House Sorpel—
a network of those who did all manner of things in the dark.
Their main trade was information.
Spread across the continent, they funneled intelligence into the Sorpel ducal estate and, at times, carried out discreet missions under direct order from the Duke.
Camilla had always been curious about what those “discreet missions” entailed, but she’d never pried.
“My lady...”
Rube’s expression grew tangled—too many thoughts behind his eyes, as if unsure which question to ask first.
“See me later.”
With that, Camilla forced her weary body into motion and headed toward her room.
She could feel Rube’s lingering stare at her back, but she ignored it.
I’m tired. Tired, tired.
****
“Why did you call us?”
“To have tea together.”
“What?”
“I said, I called you over for tea.”
“...What did you have for lunch today?”
He must have eaten something bad.
Duke Jevillan clicked his tongue repeatedly.
“Have you finally lost your mind?”
The message had sounded urgent, so he’d hurried here expecting some major discussion. And now—
“Tea?”
He’d dragged busy men all this way just for tea?
“The Academy sent word today.”
“From the Academy?”
Duke Jevillan immediately clicked his tongue again.
Just when she seemed to be behaving for once...
That girl, Camilla—she must have caused another incident.
“What did she do this time?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did she grab another young lady by the hair again?”
“You make it sound like my daughter causes trouble every single time!”
“Then what is it?”
Duke Sorpel reined in his temper and straightened his face.
“Well, my daughter, you see—”
“What about her?”
“My daughter ranked first.”
“...What?”
“She took first place on the midterm exams.”
“...”
Duke Jevillan stared at him in silence for a long time. Had he heard that right?
“First place?”
“Yes, first place!”
“Just to be clear...”
There was no way—unless this man had gone completely mad—
He asked hesitantly,
“You didn’t summon me here just to brag about that, did you?”
“She got first place.”
“And?”
“She got first place.”
...He really has lost it.
Duke Jevillan was struck speechless again.
He’d called him over in such a rush—made such a ridiculous fuss—and it was for that? Seriously?
“You lunatic!”
“How am I—”
“I’ll ask you one last time. You really called me here just to brag about that?”
“I told you—first place.”
“My son’s been first every term! Don’t summon people over something like that! Your kid getting good grades isn’t some world-shaking event!”
Duke Jevillan even jumped to his feet, yelling loud enough to rattle the windows. He was beyond exasperated—his temples throbbed.
“Is it wrong to be proud?”
At that quiet voice beside him, Duke Jevillan turned his head, puzzled.
It was Duke Sephra, who had been silently sipping his tea all this time. He muttered under his breath, voice heavy and subdued,
“Fifth place is still within the top ranks...”
“What?”
What the hell is he talking about?
Ignoring him, Duke Jevillan pointed furiously at Duke Sorpel again.
“Don’t get childish over this! How old are we, for heaven’s sake?”
The man who hadn’t even blinked when Ludville became a Swordmaster—this was what made him proud?
He really has gone senile, Jevillan thought, clicking his tongue again.
“Is it wrong to be happy?”
This time, the murmuring came again from beside him.
Duke Sephra, looking even more deflated, muttered to himself,
“Fifth place... fifth place is still good...”
What is with everyone today? Fifth place? What’s that supposed to mean now?
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Duke Jevillan groaned. His friends were losing their minds one by one, and he didn’t know why.
****
Knock, knock.
“Lady Camilla.”
“Come in.”
At her permission, someone entered. The butler—or rather, the head of Black Shadow—Rube.
He proved he was not here as a servant by the absence of any polite formalities.
Black Shadow bowed to one man alone: the Duke of Sorpel. There was no reason to lower his head to anyone else.
“What is it you needed from me?”
He came straight to the point.
Camilla had no intention of dragging the conversation out either, so she handed over a folder she’d prepared in advance.
“I need you to investigate these people.”
Rube took the papers and skimmed them quickly.
“Who are they?”
“The dead.”
“...Pardon?”
“Find out how they died—and what happened around them afterward. In detail.”
What she had handed him were dossiers on the women killed by Professor J.B.
Remembering her conversation with the ghost Amy, Camilla exhaled a long sigh.
My brother?
[Yeah.]
Your brother really killed all those women?
[...He did.]
What Amy said next had been even more absurd.
Professor J.B.’s motive for murder was so grotesquely senseless it defied belief.
[We both grew up in an orphanage. I was adopted first, before my brother.]
But the family that took her in hadn’t been good people.
She was always hungry, always forced to work—she hadn’t been adopted as family but as labor.
[Eight years later, my brother tracked me down.]
But Amy’s adoptive parents refused to let her go. If he wanted to take her, they said, he’d have to pay back every expense of “raising” her.
Professor J.B. had tried everything to bring her back. But—
[I died.]
Her adoptive parents claimed it had been a tragic accident. It wasn’t. They were the ones who had driven her to death.
[That’s when my brother started killing.]
It was as if a switch had flipped inside him; he’d gone berserk.
Lunatic.
If his revenge had been against [N O V E L I G H T] those who murdered Amy, Camilla could have at least understood—perhaps even quietly applauded him.
But no.
Why target innocent women?
Amy seemed to know more, but she hadn’t revealed anything beyond the list of the murdered women.
“I have one question.”
“What is it?”
Camilla, lost in thought, turned toward Rube’s voice.
“How did you know?”
He met her eyes squarely, sharp and unyielding, leaving no room for deceit.
“How did you know I’m the head of Black Shadow—or even about the organization itself?”
Black Shadow was literally a shadow of the world—no one knew of its existence.
Even within House Sorpel, the only person who truly knew of them was the Duke himself.
Even Ludville, heir to the house, had yet to learn of it.
And yet Camilla—of all people—had not only named the organization but correctly identified its leader.
How?
Before coming into this room, Rube had turned over every possible scenario in his mind, but none of them made sense.
“Rube.”
“Yes.”
Camilla deliberately lowered her voice.
She’d anticipated this question and already prepared an answer.
“I just saw it.”
“...Saw it?”
“Yeah. When I look at you, things start to show up.”
“...”
“People I can’t identify kept calling you ‘Chief.’ And I could see how Father treats you—with rare respect.”
As always, she used the same excuse. I saw it. What could anyone say to that?
“That’s your answer?”
“Yeah.”
“And you learned the name ‘Black Shadow’ that way too?”
“That’s right.”
“My lady, do you really expect me to—”
“Rube. Did you forget?”
Camilla drove the nail in, her tone brazen, imperious.
“I’m the woman who found the Guardian’s Egg.”
“...That’s true.”
At that, Rube seemed to accept it—at least enough to ease his suspicion.
Her feats had been undeniably strange; there was no other way to explain how she’d discovered the Guardian’s Egg in the first place.
As he nodded faintly, Camilla clenched her fist inwardly in triumph.
Of course it’s all a lie.
Even after living through this world dozens of times, she didn’t know everything.
The one who had told her about Rube’s true identity—and about Black Shadow itself—was the butler ghost, Derrin.
It had been odd, though.
Back at Spirit Lake, when she’d fought Juid, Derrin had rattled off the man’s entire history in uncanny detail—
even what he’d done to powerless young ladies from lesser families.
He must’ve shocked Juid, but honestly, he shocked me too.
How had Derrin known so much?
And then—
To find out Derrin was once the former head of Black Shadow...
That was the answer. The butlers of House Sorpel carried another identity entirely.
When Derrin had served as chief, his chosen successor had been Rube.
I knew he wasn’t just a normal butler.
The first time she’d met Derrin, she’d thought he was far too fit for an old man—
lean, efficient, not a single wasted movement.
And Rube was exactly the same.
So I just assumed that’s what all Sorpel butlers were like—
—that being a butler here simply required having the body of a soldier.
