Clank! A heavy metallic crash rang out.When I lowered my gaze, I saw a lump of scrap metal fastened over my small hand. Naturally, my eyes turned toward Doctor Mars.
"Ah! It seems the device tied to your hand startled you. It's nothing serious, so there's no need to worry. If you happen to tell a lie, the feather attached to the front will simply flutter about and induce a tickling sensation. It won't endanger your life."
"Ha! Ha!" Mars nodded with a genial smile.
Tickling?
Slowly, I frowned and silently looked at Edmund standing beside me. Even the way he leaned against the wall with an indifferent expression was annoyingly perfect. The fighting spirit that had flared up inside me subsided on its own.
'Well… it's not like it'll kill me.'
With that thought, I relaxed my stiffened body.
"Then, shall we begin the examination?"
With Mars's words, the long, drawn-out inspection continued for quite some time—accompanied now and then by Chloe's screams and peals of breathless laughter.
If I had to describe my current mood, it felt like standing inside the calm eye of a storm. It was so peaceful it made me suspicious.
'Right. The night I died was strangely quiet too.'
The thought alone made my brow crease. The reason was simple—the damned lump of scrap metal that had been tied to my hand just moments ago.
Every single time I told a lie, without fail, it tickled me. At this rate, it would only be a matter of time before they discovered I wasn't the real Chloe.
"I need a different plan."
"What kind of plan? You're not plotting how to deceive the Duke and escape the estate, are you?"
Sasha had come to my side without me noticing and spoke in a gentle voice. My lavender eyes narrowed slightly as I looked at her.
"Hmm…"
First, it would be better to clearly establish this talkative maid's position. Her tongue was loose, but if used well, she could be quite useful.
"How much of what I say do you report to Edmund?"
"E-Excuse me?!"
"From what I can tell, you pass along everything I say to Edmund. Sasha?"
"Th-that's…! It's all for the sake of your peaceful married life together!"
"It's fine. Humans tend to shrink in the face of power."
'I always did too. Of course.'
I clicked my tongue, cutting off Sasha's excuses. The rest of my thoughts I swallowed quietly.
"Thank you for understanding, Madam. But if there's anything that troubles you, His Grace ought to know as well. Especially since you've lost your memory—how could I possibly not inform him? The reason I was assigned to attend you at such a young age was because of things like that!"
"Mm~ So you've been good at tattling—I mean, reporting—since childhood. Truly a wise move worthy of a model employee."
I nodded along to her proud declaration. Perhaps unsettled by my unexpectedly mild reaction, Sasha blinked her large eyes and studied my expression.
"I thought you would be very angry, Madam."
"You're only trying to make a living. Why would I?"
I replied indifferently, scratching my right arm that still felt faintly ticklish.
'If I blurt out that I regressed and possessed this body, I might be accused of being a witch and executed on the spot.'
Faced with my first real crisis, I needed to think of a way to stay alive even if Edmund were to learn this absurd truth.
"Oh! Right! I brought you some tea that's good for restoring memory. You should try to recover your lost memories soon… Actually, perhaps it's better if you don't. You might try to leave the estate again."
"Unfortunately, I have no intention of leaving, Sasha."
"Is that really true? You truly, truly won't leave? You won't smash the estate gates or steal a carriage? Oh my goodness! Does that mean we can finally live in peace? I knew you would eventually come to your senses."
Sasha clasped her hands together with a bright smile.
"Of course. This is my home. My husband is here. Why would I leave?"
I deliberately drove the point home—fully expecting those words to be relayed to Edmund.
"Whew, that's such a relief! Ah! Please make sure to drink what I brought before it gets cold. I'll go prepare lunch now."
Her joyful exclamations continued as she headed toward the door. Just then, something flashed through my mind like a spark across my frontal lobe.
"Wait! Right—I have amnesia, don't I? That's right! I have absolutely no memory, correct?"
"Pardon? Y-Yes… that's correct."
"That means I can do whatever I want, doesn't it?"
"Why are you suddenly acting like this? You're scaring me."
Unlike Sasha, who looked on the verge of tears, my face lit up.
"It takes two hands to make a sound, and people grow attached when they see each other often. How did I not think of this?"
"…?"
"What are you doing? Aren't you going to lead the way?"
"Lead you where, exactly?"
"Where else? To my husband. Let's go! To Edmund!"
"Pardon?! B-But, Madam! Madam!!"
"Let me ask you once more—what is your opinion, Sir Mars?"
The slumped shoulders flinched instinctively. The Duke was infamous for his cruelty and ruthlessness. If he misspoke and provoked him, there would be no leaving this place alive.
'Even if they paid me five times my usual rate, I shouldn't have taken this job…'
Mars clasped his trembling hands together and forced an awkward smile.
"F-Fortunately, there appears to be nothing wrong with her physically."
"To a quack like you, I suppose that looks like 'nothing wrong.'"
Edmund's red eyes flashed toward the middle-aged man. Clearing his dry throat, Mars briefly recalled what had just occurred.
The examination of the Duchess had been truly shocking, overturning all expectations. From the very first question, things had not gone smoothly.
'Are you Chloe Randolph?'
It was one of the most basic questions possible. And yet, the Duchess had answered "Yes!"—followed by laughter that was nearly a scream. The subsequent questions had yielded much the same result.
After hesitating for a long while, unsure how to explain the situation, he finally gathered his courage and spoke.
"...It seems that my lady has indeed lost her memory."
"How amusing. For perfectly sound memories to simply vanish."
Edmund said this as he wiped the teacup in front of him with his fingertips.
"Your Grace saw it as well, did you not? My lady has no recollection whatsoever of the day she attempted to flee."
"And how can you be certain?"
"Well… the moment my lady answered that she remembered the day she boarded the carriage, the magic device activated, did it not? The fact that it reacted means she was speaking falsely…."
Dr. Mars glanced nervously at Edmund before continuing.
"And since it is true that she did attempt to flee… there is no explanation other than memory loss."
"That damned heap of scrap metal must be malfunctioning."
"It is one of the Empire of Astan's foremost tools for apprehending criminals. I—I have no doubt about its performance."
Under the duke's chilling gaze, Mars swallowed dryly. Edmund rose from his seat and idly toyed with the hilt of the sword beside him.
"Or perhaps that sly woman joined hands with a senile old doctor."
"W-What a terrifying thing to say! How could I dare—ha ha…."
Mars waved his hands in frantic denial.
"She's a woman who staged an entire escape just to get away from me. Manipulating her own memories would be nothing to her."
For a fleeting moment, Edmund's eyes trembled faintly. The corners of his lips, coldly set, curled into a silent sneer.
For three long years, she had never once allowed him close. Not even a small smile, like a withered flower, had she given him.
After throwing divorce papers at him on their wedding anniversary and walking out, there was no justification for trusting Chloe.
She must be plotting something. She would lower his guard like this, only to disappear once again.
Crack— the sword hilt in his grasp began to tremble violently.
Watching him, Mars felt small beads of moisture gather at the corners of his eyes.
"Haha! It—it's not entirely unheard of, Your Grace, Duke Randolph. In Fertia, where the war recently ended, there are occasionally people who seek physicians claiming they've lost their memories. It's usually after a great shock or accident. Th-the Duchess also suffered a severe carriage accident, so it's not entirely impossible!"
"Post-traumatic… stress. Is that what you mean?"
"Indeed! I didn't expect Your Grace to know. As rumored, you are truly brilliant. That is what they call it on distant continents."
"..."
"If you remain by her side and care for her while she regains her strength… she will surely recover her memories soon. In most cases, the cause lies in the heart…."
Mars spoke while stealing glances at Edmund's back. Please let me leave this place alive. And preferably soon.
Contrary to his wish, a heavy silence lingered for some time. Time passed, and before they knew it, it was nearing noon. He struggled to maintain proper posture as his waning mental strength scattered.
That was when—
Knock, knock.
A brisk rapping echoed from beyond the closed door.