In the shadowed corner of a dark corridor sat a strange trio: a ghost, a doll, and a cat. It was such a bizarre sight that anyone passing by would’ve doubted their own eyes. In hushed voices, they whispered among themselves.
—After returning from yesterday’s meeting, the Count immediately began disposing of his ledgers. It seems he’s been siphoning off public funds for quite some time, secretly building up a private stash.
The ghostly knight, who had recovered his composure once he was away from Justyn, recounted every detail of what he’d seen.
Embezzlement?
Ries’s face twisted in disgust before he realized it. He’d known the man was greedy, but this… this was another level. Compared to his petty schemes to keep hold of his position as proxy head of the house, this was a crime that couldn’t be brushed aside. If the truth came out, Count Averitt wouldn’t just be stepping down—he’d pay a far steeper price.
…Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing.
What better excuse could there be to drive out Count Averitt? They might even catch all his collaborators in one sweep. Ketir would probably be clapping his hands in delight the moment he heard. And the Count? He’d be thrown into the freezing dungeons beneath the ducal fortress.
—Tch. Turns out he was even more of a fool than I thought.
—As a knight who once defended this fortress, it was hard to watch.
Their conclusions aligned, and the criticisms that followed were merciless. The ghost knight frowned deeply as he continued.
—I confirmed where the Count hid the ledgers. If you wish, I can guide you there right now.
His voice suddenly took on a pleading note.
—So then… Lord Sefiut? You haven’t forgotten our deal, have you? I’ve done what you asked. Now… you’ll stop tormenting me, right?
“…?”
The revelation made Ries blink in surprise. He turned a flat, doubtful gaze toward the one being accused.
Sefiut’s soft, plump body gave a nervous twitch as though caught off guard.
—Y-you frightening bastard! You can’t just spout things like that—it makes me sound terrible! You’re the one who came at me first!
—When did I ever? The only thing I did was block your path one time!
—Y-you mean… that wasn’t an attack?
Sefiut swallowed hard, trying to salvage his argument.
—You stood in front of me and gave me that creepy look!
—My eyes have always been like this. Even in life I suffered endless misunderstandings because of them, and now, even after death…
All he’d managed to do was insult the knight without meaning to. Ries shot him a silent, condemning look. Trash.
—…Sorry. I misunderstood.
Sefiut finally backed down and muttered an apology. A faint spark of hope glimmered in the ghost knight’s fierce eyes.
—Then… may I leave now?
—Hold it. That’s separate from this. As a knight who once guarded the fortress, are you really going to ignore such corruption?
—……
That glimmer of hope was crushed immediately. Speechless, the knight looked to Ries next, his damp eyes silently pleading for help.
“…Meow?”
But his plea went unanswered. Ries tilted his head as though he didn’t understand and deliberately ignored him. He felt bad, yes—but he still needed the ghost’s cooperation.
—Khh…
The knight let out a strangled groan. He had no allies here.
—Just see this through, and I’ll leave you alone for good. But if you get caught hanging around in my way again, you know what happens.
—Y-you swear it? You’re really promising this time?
—I never break a promise.
At last, the knight relented, giving in to Sefiut’s persuasion—or more accurately, his veiled threat—and agreed to see it through.
His promise was to lead them to the hidden ledgers and retrieve them. What came after would be left to Ries and Sefiut.
For a moment, Ries considered telling Justyn and letting him handle it.
Too slow.
There was no reliable way to contact him quickly, and any delay risked losing the trail. Yet here he was, on the verge of pulling another reckless stunt, mere hours after his last one had already given Justyn a headache.
Sorry, Master.
At least inwardly, Ries offered a quiet apology to his lord. Hopefully, this mistake too would be forgiven.
***
They arrived at Count Averitt’s bedchamber. The ghost knight slipped silently through the door first, saying he would scout the room.
While waiting for his return, Ries’s eyes naturally followed something moving nearby—Sefiut’s swaying tail fin. His silver-gray gaze flicked back and forth with it, an instinctive reaction.
At the same time, another thought gnawed at him.
Come to think of it… Sefiut’s a ghost too.
The knight had described the curse clinging to Justyn as foul and revolting. Yet Sefiut, also a ghost, had never shown the slightest hint of discomfort.
Maybe…
There was one explanation that seemed to fit. Sefiut had been the curse’s very first host. Having endured its torment himself, maybe he felt no revulsion toward it. It was only speculation—but before Ries could think further, the ghost knight returned.
—He seems to have dozed off. If we make too much noise, we might wake him.
—Hmph. I’ll take care of that.
The doorknob turned without a sound, and Sefiut slipped through the narrow crack. Ries padded in after him.
The Count’s chamber was softly lit by a single candle, enough to take in the scene at a glance. The bed lay untouched and neatly made. Papers littered the desk. A candle flickered faintly in the corner. And the master of the room was slumped over his desk, fast asleep—likely overcome by exhaustion after working late into the night.
Sefiut gifted him an even deeper sleep.
—He won’t wake until the sun is high. Though… I won’t be able to use this power again for a while.
It wasn’t without cost. The cloth between the doll’s round button eyes wrinkled as though in a frown.
He’d spent a lot of energy. Ries thought little of it—Sefiut had done the same back at the capital estate, lulling Justyn and the Count to sleep together. This time was no different.
—Ah, found it. Here.
The ghost knight had located the ledgers. Some lay scattered openly on the desk, while others were tucked away in a hidden compartment disguised as a drawer.
—Looks like he’s already erased some traces. He works quickly. If we’d delayed, we might’ve missed everything.
Sefiut clicked his tongue as he flipped through the papers.
—Still, this much is more than enough to throw him in a cell. Hah. Strutting about as if untouchable—look at him now.
The stacks they’d have to haul back kept growing. Ries only glanced around and didn’t bother joining in.
I can’t make sense of any of this anyway.
The ledgers, crammed with endless numbers, made his head throb just from looking.
Fortunately, with Sefiut flaunting the expertise of a former duke, the search went smoothly. Before long, they had gathered everything they needed and were preparing to leave.
But Ries’s gaze caught on the sleeping Count.
“……”
If Sefiut was right, Averitt would wake the next morning groggy but oddly refreshed. So… wouldn’t it be fine to give him a little smack now? The cursed mark at the back of his head itched at Ries’s paws.
“Meoow, myaahk?”
He won’t wake if I hit him, right?
—Right. He won’t even notice if you cuff him once.
That was all the assurance Ries needed. He raised his paw and swung without hesitation.
Thwack! The sharp crack echoed as the Count’s head lurched sideways. Sefiut stared at him for a beat, then gave him a strange look.
—…That wasn’t an invitation to actually hit him.
The ghost knight rushed forward in alarm, but Count Averitt remained sound asleep, oblivious.
With that impulse satisfied, Ries felt lighter as they left the chamber. Surely Justyn’s curse would ease a little more now. And this time, they had another prize. Ries couldn’t carry the stacks himself, but the ghost knight and Sefiut handled the floating bundles with ease.
If Ketir saw this, he might just faint on the spot.
As Ries mused at the sight of drifting papers, Sefiut—who had seemed lost in thought since they’d left—suddenly spoke.
—I remember now.
“Nyaw?”
Remember what?
—That ghost. The one who looks exactly like me and my descendant, yet never shows his face.
The statement was abrupt, even jarring. The identity of the ghost who resembled Justyn. Sefiut had once pressed Ries to think on it, but with time and all the chaos they’d endured, the matter had faded into the background.
Unexpected though it was, curiosity rekindled now that it was back in front of him. Ries waited for Sefiut to continue.
—Edler Laufe.
The name was familiar.
Back at the capital estate, Ries had once wandered into the gallery where Sefiut’s portrait hung. If memory served, Edler Laufe was among the names engraved there.
Yet even as Sefiut finally recalled the ghost’s name, he looked far from pleased. The round, black-stitched eyes of the doll seemed unusually heavy with thought.
—He was the 27th Head of House Laufe.
The twenty-seventh?
Ries’s mind stumbled.
By his knowledge, Justyn was the 28th Head of House Laufe. And then—like a bolt of lightning—the truth struck.
Edler Laufe. The previous head of House Laufe. And Justyn’s father.
