The Black Mountain is the symbol of Nisa.
No, it could be said to be Nisa itself. Nisa came from Nix, and Nix means darkness, so it is only natural that this land is black and shadowed.
The peaks wrapped in mist are always covered with flocks of crows, making them pitch black day and night. If one looks up at the peaks following the cawing cries, one would often feel a chilling gaze that sends shivers down the spine.
In the mountains where fir forests grow dense, a massive canyon wound like a serpent, and if one examined the fault cliffs carefully, one could find traces of water that once flowed there.
Water is life and change.
Darkness embraced the life given by greenery, changed, and was reborn, but now those countless resurrections have dried up and no longer exist. Only darkness remains.
The ancients called it Serpent Valley because the shape of the canyon, from which water had vanished, resembled a serpent crawling on the ground.
Serpent Valley had many caves large and small. The ancients, who lived by hunting and gathering in the mountains and were constantly threatened by wild beasts, naturally began to move into the caves within the valley and settle there.
Thus the valley village was born.
On days when the east wind blew fiercely through the deep valley, something like the long cry of an eagle echoed eerily.
On such nights, strangely enough, not even beasts but even insects held their breath in silence. Silence in the mountains was not a good sign.
The shaman who was said to have lived longest in the valley stoked anxiety, saying this was a warning from the gods. The eagle was the messenger bird of the highest among the gods, and the cry of an eagle at night was the chief god's anger.
After much deliberation, the valley people headed to the highest peak among the mountaintops.
First, the men together brought large stones to build a platform, cut trees, and created an altar. The women wove textiles to spread widely over the platform, then picked flowers to decorate the altar.
They decided to offer sacrifices and perform rituals periodically, taking turns from each cave. According to the shaman, it was an altar for the master of the Black Mountain.
Hundreds of years later, centered on the city of commerce and trade, Triton, the first king Diocles established the Kingdom of Poseidonia.
Its effects reached Nisa, and the valley people were forcibly relocated to the village below the mountain by soldiers. The stated purpose was to civilize the savage valley dwellers, but in reality, it was merely groundwork to place them under the governor's administration and collect taxes.
Currently, most of Nisa's villagers farm or cultivate fruit and specialty crops in vineyards and olive groves, but their ancestors were hunters who had even captured fierce beasts.
However, not many remember that fact. They simply took pride in the fact that warriors renowned throughout Poseidonia were produced in unusually high numbers in Nisa.
Warriors from Nisa would apply oil woven from Nisa's olives to their bodies and promote their hometown. Because of this, Nisa's olive oil gained fame as the oil of warriors and earned an excellent reputation.
Among them, some even spread such words:
"A first-rate warrior must apply Nisa's oil to be strong and beautiful in body and spirit!"
Regardless of the truth, Nisa's oil gained renown for invoking divine protection, and its price began to soar as well.
As a result, Nisa's oil became a high-priced commodity that could not be bought even with a premium every year when the season of water arrived.
Besides this, there was another product famous as a specialty of Nisa—red wine. Nisa's red wine had an subtle color and deep, unique flavor, and was offered only to the royal palace and high noble families.
The governor of Nisa, Dadukos, used this fact to monopolize the supply of red wine to Triton and reaped great profits.
As Nisa's fame grew higher, Dadukos's wealth also swelled accordingly. Unable to handle the wealth overflowing his warehouses any longer, Dadukos decided to build a new residence.
Thus, the location of the new residence was determined to be the top of a hill facing the Black Mountain.
His wife said it was ominous because Crow Peak could be seen directly ahead, but Dadukos liked this place where all of Nisa could be seen at a glance.
"Build it large and splendid enough to rival any noble family in Triton."
After several years of construction, the new residence was completed. The rumor that Dadukos, the governor of Nisa, had built a new mansion spread as far as the capital Triton, and quite a few people came to see it.
"The sculptural beauty added to the pastoral scenery is quite exquisite."
In particular, praise for the exotic garden and the red tiled roof for which a high price was paid continued in succession. When everyone returned after giving lavish praise, Dadukos could not hide his satisfaction.
The hill road leading up to the new residence was entirely filled with fragrant harvest fields.
Like a goddess lying on her side, the gentle curving slope was densely planted with olive trees and grapevines spreading widely, making it paradise itself.
However, the sight of slaves bent at the waist working from morning until sunset was a flaw, if there was one.
Whenever important guests came, Dadukos would go out to the fields and shout at the slaves, "Can't you work more prostrated than that!" His wife would look at such a husband with a disappointed expression.
Only when the sunset caught on the bent branches and dyed the hill's horizon completely red did the sound of a horn announcing the end of work echo from the residence's roof.
The slaves exhausted by hard labor loaded tools and harvest onto carts and headed toward the hilltop where the storehouse was built. Each footstep seemed to hold deep sighs.
The entrance to the mansion was centered around a semicircular archway, with expensive ornamental trees and statues harmonizing together.
In particular, the stone statue guarding the front of the garden's fountain was the centerpiece—it was called a Sphinx, brought from the Eastern Continent at great expense.
Slaves who did not know the culture of the Eastern Continent would walk with their heads deeply bowed, avoiding the eyes of the winged monster stone statue.
As the evening glow rippled over the western mountain, the shadows of the mountain covering the village grew even deeper. Only the red residence atop the hill seemed to have escaped the shadow like the grip of the death god.
The twilight shot by the sun god with his bow dyed the westernmost wall of the mansion in gold.
"Good, they're all gone."
As the slaves disappeared one by one to their quarters in the north, figures waiting for darkness behind the wall looked at each other and nodded.
"Let's go."
The door woven of solid ash wood creaked and opened secretly. A man and woman wearing hoods moved while surveying their surroundings.
When the two approached the crack in the door and signaled, a man inside who had cautioned "shh" whispered.
"The password?"
"Hecate."
At the woman's answer, the door opened carefully as if telling them to enter. The two put their hands through the crack in the door and quickly disappeared into the warm light.
"I am the investigator for this case."
The man who opened the door said while lighting a candle on the candlestick. His voice was somewhat unusual. For a man, his register was quite high and sharp.
He spread a blanket on the floor, then set down a basket made of tree branches and two terracotta cups. Each cup was filled with water and wine.
"You two are the operatives, right?"
"Yes."
Inside the basket were bread that had not yet cooled and fresh grape clusters. The man first handed over a loaf of rye bread, saying to fill their stomachs first.
The woman stared at the man's hand holding the bread. His skin was white. His fingers were slender too, and though calluses were ingrained at each joint, it didn't feel rough.
When she raised her head, her eyes met the man's half-closed eyes. Cheeks full of scars and a blunt nose. Overall, a rough impression. Something... felt off.
"The residence is currently in a state of emergency."
The investigator went straight to the main point. The man and woman who had been eating the food first due to hunger showed signs of focusing on the story with narrowed brows and sharp eyes.
"At first glance, it appears peaceful, but the governor and a small number of managers are currently in an extremely tense state. A few weeks ago, the governor's wife and mistress of this place, Megara, suddenly disappeared."
The outline of the case was roughly known from what they had heard.
At thirty-eight years old this year, the governor's wife Megara had disappeared without a word about three months ago. The clan that received the request for the case sent a skilled informant to infiltrate the mansion and take charge of the investigation.
"Before marriage, Megara was beautiful and charming enough for the governor to fall in love at first sight. A full bosom, a narrow waist, lustrous hair and sparkling eyes... She was a woman all men would desire. But at some point, she became so gaunt and hollow that she was called Megara of the Thorny Willow, becoming too painful to even look at."
"Thorny willow?"
Thorny willow was a shrub in the form of a thicket that grew near foul-smelling reservoirs or rivers. Its branches were gaunt and unsightly, and it was also a word used to despise people who were skin and bones.
"No matter how disheveled she looked, to call the governor's wife that..."
The investigator touched his neck while looking up at the ceiling as if mulling over the contents of his investigation so far. His eyes sank heavily.
"She started becoming strange around last year's season of water. Perhaps she couldn't sleep at all, but she was always on edge, screaming at the slightest provocation, stomping her feet alone or throwing things was commonplace, and she reportedly even clawed at her hair and bit her fingernails until they bled as if self-harming."
"Wasn't she sick somewhere?"
"Healers and apothecaries were called to examine the madam, but there was no improvement. She increasingly engaged in hysterical behavior and changed like a different person. Someone who couldn't even raise her voice threw dishes or pots at slaves' minor mistakes, and even threw her dowry and valuables from her family home against walls or trampled them with her feet. Everyone witnessed it with their own eyes yet couldn't believe it. Then she completely lost her mind and began committing bizarre acts."
"Bizarre acts?"
The man paused to catch his breath. Deep wrinkles formed on his forehead, which had shown no change in expression until then. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, unable to easily speak.
Just what is it that he's acting like this?
When the woman looked at him with curiosity, the investigator let out a shallow breath and then opened his mouth.
"Bestiality."
"Gasp..."
The woman wondered if she had heard wrong and looked at the young man who had come with her. Even the man who had been listening calmly had his pupils greatly shaking.
"B-bestiality? You didn't mispronounce masturbation?"
"No, it's bestiality."
"W-what kind of beast..."
"I heard it was a boar."
"Good heavens!"
It was too horrific to even speak. No, actually, a sense of déjà vu made her break out in cold sweat.
Hadn't a similar rumor circulated in the palace where she once lived?
A queen who went mad entered a statue shaped like a cow and committed lewd acts with a bull, and ended up becoming pregnant.
"That's a false rumor!"
At that moment, someone refuted in a sharp voice.
The investigator glanced toward a corner. The woman and young man who had been listening with shocked expressions also turned their gazes, wondering "What was that?"
"It's a false rumor spread from the annex to slander our Lady Megara!"
The voice that had shouted clearly could be felt trembling with breath.
"She wasn't originally like that. She was a fragile and innocent person. I know. She knew nothing about the dangerous world outside the mansion."
It was near the side door where workers passed through. When the candlelight illuminated her features, a woman with darkish skin and thick lips revealed herself.
"Aside from the stories of traveling bards occasionally invited to the mansion, our Lady Megara knew nothing about the outside world."
The woman in a short tunic knelt on the cold floor. Slightly raised eyes showed hostility.
"I greet you both. I am Anactra, Lady Megara's attendant slave. I came because I heard you could help Lady Megara."
Whether she had already become acquainted with the investigator, Anactra exchanged glances with him and looked at the man and woman with an aggressive and sharp attitude.
The woman operative spoke in a reassuring tone.
"We are people who came to help after hearing your story. My name is Leuke, and this is Iskis..."
"Leuke!"
Iskis shouted as if bewildered and interrupted her words. He whispered urgently, looking flustered.
"The Lord told you to watch your mouth. How can you just reveal your names right away?"
Leuke made an expression of realization and covered her mouth. The investigator was clicking his tongue.
Anaktora asked with a suspicious expression.
"Are you really... the fixers?"
That woman named Leuke—her strangely pretentious yet annoying way of speaking, her habit of touching her collarbone and covering her mouth when she smiles, her attitude of blurting out things thoughtlessly and bluntly—she looked exactly like a young lady from a noble family....
The same went for the blond young man sitting beside her, pretending to be calm.
Although he was glaring fiercely and trying to carry himself like a thug, it was palpable that he had never bowed his head once in his life.
From his ramrod-straight back, which looked like it would snap if flicked, to the angle that broadcasted his nobility, and his center of gravity tilted slightly to the side—it was the posture of someone accustomed to being attended to by others.
Her brows furrowed.
Look at those pitying eyes. They are the eyes of a noble young master who has never associated with lowly commoners.
The investigator watching from the side with crossed arms finally spoke up, unable to bear it any longer.
"It's your freedom whether to believe it or not. You'll be kicked out of this mansion soon anyway, and it'll be hard for you to survive without Lady Megara's protection."
Right, there was no one left who would listen to the words of a lowly slave like herself. Without Lady Megara, her existence meant nothing.
"Alright, I will tell you everything."
Having made up her mind, Anaktora said with a choked voice.
"So please, save our madam."
Leuke and Iskys looked at each other with puzzled expressions.
"I have served by Lady Megara's side ever since before she married into the Dadukos family. I was seven when I first attended to Lady Megara, so it has already been twenty-three years. Lady Megara, who was fifteen at the time, rather took care of me like a younger sister, and even when I made countless mistakes and acted impertinently, she always let it slide with a smile."
Megara was the eldest daughter of Antonio Beotos, the wealthiest man in Triton, and possessing both wealth and beauty, she was considered one of the most outstanding brides of her time.
Her family, the Beotos family, was nothing more than a wealthy merchant household even during her great-grandfather's generation, but thanks to Antonio Beotos' outstanding discernment, they were now great tycoons firmly gripping the financial sector of Triton.
When the rumor spread that Megara had entered the marriage market, suitors lined up.
Antonio Beotos was cautious. As she was his precious only daughter, he had to make the most of her.
After agonizing for months, he decided to accept Dadukos, the young governor of Nisa, as his son-in-law. It was due to his long-standing ambition to gain a foothold in the political world.
Unfortunately, however, Dadukos thought differently.
He was only interested in Beotos' material support and had no intention whatsoever of joining his father-in-law's ambitions. He had no great desire for success, let alone any wish to get involved in headache-inducing political strife.
He was content enough to live swaggeringly in the small, peaceful Nisa, throwing his weight around.
Beotos, unaware of his son-in-law's true feelings, was disappointed by his sluggish progress and began to pour out endless interference and nagging.
Dadukos grew increasingly resentful of his father-in-law's attitude, which treated him like a puppet. And the fallout was entirely borne by his wife, Megara.
"What exactly does your father think I am? Every time we meet, he calls me a pathetic fool, a bastard who can't even act like a real man, giving me nothing but shame and humiliation! Is Antonio Beotos that great? Huh? He's nothing but a merchant, yet he treats me, a governor, like an idiot? He just has filthy greed. He must have planned from the start to tame me into the Beotos family's loyal dog. What are you doing? Say something, you great daughter of the Beotos family!"
"Calm down! Father just has high expectations for you. I will speak to him properly, so..."
"What will you speak to him about? Just shut up and stay quiet! Don't do anything!"
Their marriage gradually raced toward ruin.
Like a river frozen solid before the current could even flow, a silent cold wave painted a lonely landscape within the mansion.
Naturally, no child was conceived.
It was the result of Dadukos neglecting Megara, but the responsibility fell entirely on her shoulders. Not only her husband, Dadukos, but even her maiden home, the Beotos family, began to reproach her.
"From then on, Lady Megara started visiting all sorts of herbalists. She took everything said to be good for conceiving and followed every folk remedy there was. But does taking those make a baby? You have to look up at the sky to pluck a star. The governor wouldn't even seek out Lady Megara..."
Still, the first few years were okay.
No matter how many other women Dadukos brought into the house, and even if she witnessed those affairs right before her eyes, Megara endured it calmly.
They were women who couldn't even last a season anyway, and the mistress of the house was, without a doubt, her.
The women who had been Dadukos' mistresses would also grow anxious and quickly bow their heads whenever they ran into Megara. Megara would stare down at them with eyes full of contempt.
An unbearable sense of disillusionment would surge up, but ironically, those were the only moments she felt alive. Mocking the backs of their heads as they groveled flat on the ground brought her a sense of relief.
However, that too did not last forever.
It was a day in the early part of the Season of Water. Every hill in Nisa was dyed with overflowingly blooming flowers. Dadukos and Megara had finished preparing to move to the hill opposite the Black Mountain.
For once, even Megara was in a good mood that day. Riding a new palanquin and stepping into the splendidly built residence, she was looking around the garden when she ran into a woman standing in front of the sphinx statue.
"You are a face I haven't seen before. Are you new here?"
When Megara asked with a smile, the woman raised her chin and curved her lips.
At that moment, Megara's face stiffened.
It was because of the woman's attire. It was too flashy and elegant. It was not a level of fabric a mere commoner could drape over themselves.
Furthermore, at a glance, her face looked so youthful that she was mistaken for a young girl, but upon closer inspection, she was a woman in her early to mid-twenties.
"Who are you?"
Even though the governor's wife was asking who she was, the woman, instead of answering, casually waved away the surrounding slaves with her hand as if she were the mistress of the house.
"I asked who you are!"
"My name is Lakne."
Only then did the woman, with her head lowered, reply with a smile. Megara narrowed her eyes in displeasure.
Lakne.
It was a familiar name. She probably mentioned it precisely because she already knew that the other party would recognize it.
She was the mistress her husband had been seeing recently.
She was the wife of a vineyard owner who had recently died suddenly, and was said to be about fifteen years younger than herself. According to Anaktora, with her girlish appearance, aristocratic way of speaking, and refinement, the governor was completely besotted with her and couldn't pull himself out.
"Why are you here?"
Megara's face twisted with indignation. She cursed inwardly, screaming her damn husband's name.
"My, did you not hear?"
Lakne blinked her large eyes with her mouth rounded in feigned surprise. It was the most hypocritical face she had ever seen among all the mistresses.
"I will also be living in the Strophos mansion from today."
"Stroph... what? What mansion?"
"The Strophos mansion. I named it myself, do you like it? Lord Dadukos said it was good... It means the mansion on the hill."
Her chest hurt so much she couldn't breathe. Megara no longer knew what expression she was making.
She only had the thought of grabbing Lakne, who was standing there with a soft, downy smile, by the hair and pulling it out with all her might.
She forced a bitter smile.
"Lakne, you cannot stay in this mansion."
"My, why?"
"Because I will not allow it."
Lakne put on a sad expression. Without saying a word, she turned away.
That afternoon, Megara waited in Dadukos' room for him to arrive. Dadukos, who came fuming with rage, was the same.
"How! How could you bring that woman into the mansion before even telling me? No, how could you even think of letting her live here in the first place? And what is with that brazen attitude of hers!"
"If anyone should be asked, it's you—why are you getting so worked up? Lakne was just there because she wanted to greet you. Did you really have to embarrass her and throw her out like that?"
"Greet? Greet me? She says she wanted to greet me?"
Megara let out a laugh of sheer disbelief.
"All this time, I've endured without a single complaint even when you committed all sorts of disgraceful acts. Tell me, whose doing is it that the Dadukos family's wealth has grown so much? Wasn't it thanks to my father's help? Yet how have you behaved? Not only have you indulged in luxury and pleasure, but you've never even said a single word of thanks to my father or me. Right? Do you even have a conscience?"
As Megara screamed at the top of her lungs, Dadukos stepped back with a flustered face.
Why was she acting like this all of a sudden? She wasn't the type to interrogate him this fiercely.
There was nothing wrong with her words from start to finish. Indeed, wasn't even this current situation entirely brought about by his own fault?
Dadukos stepped back and gently coaxed her.
"What's wrong with you? Why are you being so sensitive? You've never interfered in my affairs until now. That woman is the wife of the vineyard owner I've been trying to buy from since before. The owner died of illness last year, making her a widow, and she's trying to sell me the vineyard at a bargain price. Is this only good for me? I'm doing this for a reason, you're so dense..."
The sight of Dadukos sighing and rambling out excuses blurred hazily. Megara bit her lip against the tears streaming down her cheeks.
Why is she acting like this? Why is she interfering? Why is she being so sensitive? It felt as if the sky, which had already collapsed several times, was outright striking her with lightning.
What on earth had she done so wrong to live receiving such punishment? Why had she married such a man, and why had she come to love such a man?
"You've never brought them into the house before."
"What?"
"The other women... You've never let any of the mistresses you've had so far sit in the house."
"T-That's because the old mansion was small. Now that we've come to such a grand residence..."
"Dadukos!"
As Megara shrieked until her throat felt like it would burst, Dadukos flinched. His eyes had grown wide with surprise.
"Stop it! Do you really think I know nothing?"
"Megara?"
"Lakne, that woman."
Unlike the former mistresses who had been busy averting their eyes and quickly scurrying away for fear of making eye contact with her, Lakne displayed a smile that turned one's stomach and stared straight up with wide eyes. With one hand elegantly placed over her stomach.
"She's pregnant, isn't she?"
Looking at Dadukos dripping cold sweat and unable to finish his words, Megara burst into a "Haha!" laugh with bloodshot eyes.
Although she hadn't shown it, she had secretly believed that the cause of their infertility lay with Dadukos.
It was because, despite having sown so many romantic rumors over the years, not a single woman had ever gotten pregnant.
But pregnant!
Then was she the problem? This was more shocking than Dadukos' infidelity.
She had always conducted herself properly in life. She had never left the task of burning incense to the patron gods Pontos and Thalassa to the slaves, always doing it herself directly. Naturally, she had never been lazy. If the gods were truly righteous, this could not be happening to her.
Another week passed.
Despite Megara's fierce opposition, Dadukos eventually brought Lakne into the residence. Lakne's vineyard also fell into Dadukos' hands.
Lakne came to be called the second wife of the Dadukos family in name and reality. On top of that, receiving undivided favor due to her pregnancy, she seemed to fear nothing in the world and began to act overtly arrogant and disdainful of everyone.
Whenever she ran into Megara, she would raise her chin and make a mocking expression. She stroked her belly as if to spite her, and even took naps lying down in the garden spot Megara frequented, as if to show off.
Was that all? It was countless how often she siphoned off Megara's exclusive food ingredients and goods for her own use, and she even arbitrarily used her palanquin and horses.
Anaktora raged furiously, but Megara barely endured and held back this time as well. Her last remaining pride consisted only of her straight, stiffened back and her aristocratic dignity, which never crumbled no matter the time.
And so the season of water with its raging waves passed, and after the season of fire that blazed like a wounded heart also went by, came the season of wind, both the gentlest and the harshest.
On a night when the night owls began to hoot, Megara's quarters became busy for once. Her face was adorned more radiantly than usual.
"Anaktra, is the bath water prepared?"
"Pardon? Ah, well..."
Seated on a chair lined with soft fur and putting on her jewelry, Megara wore a puzzled expression. Anaktra, standing at the door, hesitated in her answer while glancing nervously.
"Wouldn't it be better to just rest early today?"
"What are you saying? Have you forgotten what day this is?"
"How could that be! I've prepared everything. Look, I've filled the vases with orange blossoms and white roses, and decorated the door with a garland woven from laurel branches. I've also scattered violet petals inside the bedding so their fragrance would spread. How could I dare forget your wedding anniversary that comes but once a year?"
Megara's brown eyes, which darkened when she was angry, grew even more suspicious.
"So you prepared all that, yet you're telling me to sleep early?"
Anaktra avoided her gaze and bit her lip hard. Cold sweat ran down her neck as she stood there, not knowing what to do.
"Anaktra, I thought there were no secrets between us, but it seems I was mistaken."
"Th-that's absurd! I just... I was worried that you might be in a bad mood, Madam..."
"Why would I be in a bad mood?"
"Well..."
Anaktra squeezed her eyes shut as if she were going mad. Her clasped hands trembled slightly.
"It's alright, so go ahead and tell me."
"Lord Dadukos... it seems he won't be coming..."
"He won't come? Why?"
Anaktra could no longer answer. Looking at her, Megara cast her gaze out the window. From the annex across the garden where Lakne resided, the sound of aulos music and laughter could be heard.
"Surely Dadukos isn't... there right now?"
Though they had lived for long years without knowing each other's sleeping habits, a thread-like hope remained.
Every year when their wedding anniversary approached, Dadukos would come to Megara's chambers, stumbling drunk.
After all, she was the woman he had pursued, abandoning even his pride before their marriage. She was his first love in his youth, and though he succeeded in courting her and marrying her, he had failed to live happily.
She was a partner of love and hate.
The same was true for Megara, so for one night a year, the time when they held each other and joined their bodies, they would cast aside old feelings and pour out clumsy passion and lust like when they first met.
Shouts and moans mixed with anger, atonement, regret, and resentment toward each other flowed onto the creaking bed.
By the time their sweat-soaked bodies cooled, the sound of the door creaking open would be heard. Megara, who had been tossing and turning pretending to sleep, would turn over with a faint hope.
But the bed was always left with the covers pulled back, grown cold.
Megara prayed earnestly to the goddess of family and childbirth. Please, grant her a child. Her eyes, which had prayed and murmured out of habit, were emptier than a flower vase with dead flowers.
"M-Madam Megara... shall I go fetch him? Lady Lakne has been complaining all day about being sick here and uncomfortable there, distracting everyone, so it seems the Governor forgot in the confusion."
"Forgot?"
Megara burst into hollow laughter.
Dadukos was a man whose meager pride and vanity were his entire life. That was why, even borrowing the courage of alcohol and using their wedding anniversary as a shield, he could only cross the threshold of his wife's chambers.
What a man without spirit, so cowardly.
Yet he had his stubbornness, coming without fail for fifteen years. She had thought that perhaps, even if they hated each other, they might share the same desire for a child.
And so before she knew it, Megara too had come to count the days until each returning wedding anniversary.
Though she knew she shouldn't, she had given her heart and feelings to that man, enduring a whole year for that one night.
"...How empty."
Was the promise so easily broken? No, what promise? They had never even pressed their foreheads together and made sacred vows.
Megara wiped her wet cheek with her hand. After steadying her breath, she rolled her lower lip and bit it as if nothing had happened.
Anaktra ran to her, grabbed the hem of her dress, and burst into tears.
"Please, just go and show your anger! Tell Lord Antonio to drive that woman out too. You can do that. Who are you, our Madam? How great and precious a person you are!"
"If anything, I should just leave this mansion."
"Why? Why should you have to do that? You haven't done anything wrong!"
"That's just how I speak... Even if I wanted to leave, I can't. That's my reality. You know my father's disposition well, don't you? Do you think he would take me back? Once married, this place is my grave, as you know. The Beotos family would rather consider me a disgrace and cast me out. That's what nobles' honor and pride are. It will be hard for you to understand your whole life..."
"No, I don't understand. Can't you just take the dowry you brought when you married and all the support the Beotos family has given you and leave? It would be better to divorce and live alone."
Megara laughed.
"Divorce? Divorce exists only in concept. How many noble ladies do you think can actually divorce? Anaktra, the moment I leave this place, my life has no future. Death would be a better choice."
Watching her laugh bitterly with her head tilted back, Anaktra wore a worried expression.
Poor Lady Megara...
That day, Megara's manic laughter was loud enough to reach the annex where Lakne stayed.
Was that why? For a moment, the aulos music faltered and seemed to stop. But that too was brief. Soon the music resumed like flowing water and continued until midnight.
It was one such day.
An old woman who looked suspicious at first glance came to the mansion, having been secretly summoned. She said she was a sorceress living alone in a remote place outside the village.
Megara welcomed her.
The old woman hinted to the despairing lady that she could have a child if she performed a ritual with the blood of a young goat.
"Truly... can I really have a child?"
"Madam, your womb is filled with darkness and coldness. To remove this, you must offer a sacrifice to the Black God and pray for him to take away the darkness. For that, you need the blood of a pure young goat."
"Get it for me at once, at once!"
"I shall."
On a day when Dadukos had left the mansion with Lakne, Megara headed secretly to the underground storage with only the old woman and Anaktra.
When the moon rose, the dark ritual began.
The old woman laid down a young goat that had been fed anesthetic herbs to sleep, then picked up an old dagger. In the corner watching the scene, Megara's eyes were dilated with terror.
Thrust!
The old woman raised the dagger high several times. Each time the sharp blade stabbed into the goat's tender neck, streams of blood spurted terrifyingly into the air.
"Stop, stop! That's enough."
The old woman glanced with regret, then collected the blood flowing from the goat's neck into a bronze cup.
"Drink it all in one go."
Anaktra reached out to stop her, but Megara had already nodded and was gulping down the cup.
It was ominous.
So very ominous. But Anaktra could only cover her mouth and say nothing.
The next day, Megara screamed in pain.
"Lady Megara! Please calm down, Lady Megara!"
"It itches, Anaktra! What is happening? It's so itchy!"
"It's just hives, Lady Megara! If you scratch like that, it will get worse."
Lying on her bed scratching her neck, Megara began tearing at her clothes. Her shoulders, arms, and buttocks were already beaded with blood along the scratch marks like rake wounds.
"Lady Megara. I think we need to call a physician."
"No, no physician... If we do, it will reach Dadukos's ears."
She tried to calm the rash with a cloth soaked in cold water, but the feverish inflammation spread across her entire body, including her face.
In the end, Anaktra called the old woman back.
Visiting under cover of night when everyone was asleep, the old woman smiled, baring her yellow teeth as if it were nothing. She held out a small bottle to Megara, who looked at her with exhausted eyes.
"Apply this to the affected areas frequently. You will feel much better."
"What is this?"
"It's a special medicine. I obtained it with great difficulty, and I'll give it specially to you, Madam."
Megara examined the bottle with suspicious eyes. Then she discovered an inscription on the bottom and widened her eyes.
"Pythia?"
"It's medicine made by the priestess of Delphi after daily ritual purification, burning incense on the altar, and performing prayer ceremonies. Therefore, when you use this, Madam, you must kneel naked on the floor and apply it directly with your bare hands."
Thinking back, it was full of strange things.
She was an old woman who had demanded an outrageous sum even for performing the bizarre ritual. Yet for this special medicine she claimed to have obtained with difficulty, she didn't even take money and just pressed it into her hand?
But when the body is unwell, judgment becomes clouded. The old woman had probably calculated even that psychological state of Megara's.
"This is the medicine bottle that old woman gave."
Anaktra pulled out a jar smaller than her fist from her bosom. The handle of the lid carved in the shape of a snake's head was noticeable.
Examining the bottom of the container, Leuke discovered small lettering. Iskis poked his head forward and asked what it was.
"It says Pythia. Lady Megara must have seen this too."
"What's Pythia?"
"The priestess of Delphi is called Pythia. A priestess who delivers oracles."
Was the old woman's claim true? Was Delphi truly involved in this incident?
"Are you saying this medicine is related to Lady Megara's disappearance?"
"Yes."
Anaktra nodded with conviction in her eyes.
A small amount of ointment still remained inside the bottle. When Leuke put her finger inside the jar, Anaktra cried out in alarm.
"You mustn't touch it!"
Startled, Leuke hesitated and withdrew her hand. Anaktra snatched the bottle and closed the lid tightly.
"And don't smell it either."
"W-what... is there poison in it?"
Anaktra continued with a dark expression.
"I don't know exactly what it is either. It seemed so strange that I looked into it separately, and it was indeed made in Delphi. I don't know how that quack old woman got her hands on it..."
It was the first she had heard of Delphi dealing in medicine, but it wasn't strange.
Wasn't Delphi itself a place that used all kinds of sweet words and appeals to fill its own coffers, wielding the authority of the gods?
"After applying that medicine, Lady Megara..."
Anaktra's eyes filled with tears.
"She wasn't the Lady Megara I knew. The rash subsided, but she became truly strange... sob..."
That night, Anaktra discovered Megara wandering the garden completely naked.
She managed to bring her back to her quarters with the help of servants, but she kept screaming and trying to run outside.
It was a moonless night, yet she frowned saying the light was too bright, and claimed the sun god had come and she needed to go meet him.
Suddenly she would burst into mad laughter and stomp her feet. As she spun around the room chuckling, she rubbed her own chest and wore an expression of ecstasy.
"Ah, it's hot... my body is so hot. It feels like the sun god is caressing me."
Seeing beads of sweat on Megara's neck, Anaktra was left speechless.
Then, spotting a male slave standing guard at the door, Megara suddenly began crawling toward him.
Soon Megara's hand grabbed the male slave's thigh and pulled up his tunic. Her pale hand hotly caressed his hair-covered groin.
"Your groin is soaked with sweat. It smells sour. Won't you taste mine too? It feels like it's burning here, I could die."
The male slave looked at Anaktra with a pale face, pleading for help.
"M-Madam... Madam, no! Get a hold of yourself! What are you doing!"
Anaktra screamed and pulled Megara away from the male slave.
Then, Megara, prostrate on the floor, slipped a hand between her thighs and let out a moan as she rubbed her groin fiercely. Her other hand was twisting and pinching the nipple she had exposed outside her clothes.
Anaktora slumped to the floor. The male slave was breaking out in a cold sweat, his involuntary erection hidden beneath his clothes.
Her story came to a temporary halt here. Leuke and Iskis gazed at each other with eyes full of pity.
"Why didn't you ask Governor Dadukos for help? If you wanted to investigate the medicine or that old woman, going to the governor would have been the fastest way."
"We can't go to the master."
"Why not?"
Looking anxious, Anaktora interlaced her fingers and rubbed her thumbs together.
"If the Governor finds out about that sorcerer or the medicine, he will eradicate all related evidence and witnesses."
"…."
"The Governor wishes for Lady Megara to never return. I'm sure the reason he commissioned you for this case is to get rid of her, right? Am I wrong?"
"The governor is the one who commissioned this case?"
Not Anaktora? Leuke wore a confused expression. The investigator nodded calmly.
"What Governor Dadukos asked us to find is Lady Megara's corpse. He said he had no need for a living body."
Anaktora's eyes filled with resentment, as if to say, 'See?'
"The Governor believes only Lady Lakne's words and thinks Lady Megara has gone completely mad. Soon, Princess Tethys will be heading to the Valley of Death. People from all over the country will flock to see the Princess's procession and the ritual. That will include Lord Antonio, the Patriarch of Beotos. Since he is coming to Nisa, wouldn't he want to meet his daughter, Lady Megara, before he leaves? That is why the Governor is in such a frenzy. He wants to kill Lady Megara before Lord Antonio discovers the truth."
"Wait, what's this about Princess Tethys going to the Valley of Death?"
"I don't know the details either. I just heard she is currently confined to the residence."
Leuke's eyes widened at the sudden deluge of information. Princess Tethys is confined to the residence? Becoming a sacrifice to death—why? No, more importantly, when did she return to Poseidonia? Did something happen in Lethe?
Come to think of it, Megara's story bore an uncanny resemblance to the Queen's tale that Tethys had shared previously.
"Now then, you two! What will you do?"
"About what?"
"You've heard the general story; now it is time to make a decision. Shall we proceed with the commission? I trust you haven't forgotten that this is also your initiation test? The Grand Elder instructed me to respect your wishes as much as possible."
"Hold on... By commission, you mean the one from Governor Dadukos, right?"
"That is correct."
Leuke cast a sidelong glance at the kneeling Anaktora, then shot a look at Iskis. "What are we going to do?" At her whisper, Iskis offered no response.
"Clients generally do not reveal the truth of a case. They tend to only disclose what is advantageous to them. Discerning that is the investigator's role. That is why I asked Anaktora to tell us everything she knows."
"Please save my lady. Please, help me!"
Anaktora wailed, pleading with them. Just then, Iskis, who had been silent all along, spoke up abruptly.
"I will do it."
Leuke's eyes widened in surprise, and she whispered quietly, "Are you really going to do this?" Iskis nodded.
"Even if we refuse this commission, similar cases will continue to come in. These are things we'll have to do eventually, Leuke."
*If you wish to be acknowledged by the Grand Elder and Mother.*
The unspoken final words lingered in his eyes. As the son of Crete's most prestigious noble house, he knew all too well what it meant to meet his parents' expectations.
Anaktora, who had been listening in on their conversation, shot to her feet, her eyes bloodshot, and lunged at them, screaming.
"You said you would help! You said you'd save Lady Megara if I told you everything! Did the Governor tell you to coax it out of me? Is that it?"
The investigator cast a sidelong glance from his seated position. At that, hands emerged from the darkness and clamped over Anaktora's mouth. "Mmph!" As she struggled and tried to scream, they struck the back of her head with a thud and dragged her outside.
Leuke stared at the floor, her face pale. Iskis gently rubbed her back.
The investigator stood up, looking satisfied.
"It is good that you've decided to proceed with the commission. You are more cool-headed than I thought, Iskis."
The two widened their eyes in surprise. The investigator glanced at them, then peeled something off his face.
As a result, something resembling leather, much like skin, fell away from his face, revealing a woman with neat, refined features.
"M-Mother?"
As Leuke cried out in surprise, the woman smiled faintly.
"What is going on?"
"I was testing you."
Iskis stared blankly, propping himself on the floor. The woman before them was Leuke's mother, Kirke, the Altar Master who led the Hecate clan.
"I was curious to see whether you would be swayed by that girl's pleas. It wasn't entirely satisfactory, but it's enough to pass."
They stared at the human-skin mask in Kirke's hand. Their expressions clearly read, *What in the world is that?*
"This human-skin mask is an invaluable tool for working as fixers of the night. When you wear it, your face transforms to match the shape of the skin."
Your face transforms to match the shape of the skin? Was she dreaming? How could such a thing be possible...? Was there some sort of spell cast on it?
"Do not try to understand it. It is not that kind of object. According to the Elder, it is an ancient relic."
Leuke's expression turned horrified. What if she wore that thing and it never came off her face? Just the thought of it made her shudder.
"But are you really going to take this commission?"
"Did you not say so yourselves?"
"Megara hasn't committed any crime. From what we've heard, the villain here seems to be Governor Dadukos."
"You seem to think we are some sort of righteous sect, but the Hecate clan is a group of fixers. Outwardly, we operate under the name Kokinos, engaging in various fields of medicine and the arts, but that alone is not enough to feed the entire clan. If we start drawing lines between good and evil, there will be no end to it. As long as it does not threaten the clan's safety, we must do whatever brings in income."
Leuke furrowed her brows tightly and glared at the ground.
Seeing this, Kirke let out a sigh. Was it too much to hope for? For a daughter raised as a princess in the palace to live as part of a clan in the shadows...
"The most frequent requests we receive lately are to find runaway or missing wives, just like this case. It's primarily occurring among the noble houses. It is quite a bizarre phenomenon. Most of the disappearances are highly unnatural and strange."
Nobles of prestigious houses generally considered it a disgrace if their wives left home, and they were desperate to hide it.
At first, they would make the excuse that their wife was ill, claiming she was bedridden somewhere within the estate.
However, no matter how long they waited, their runaway wives did not return. Eventually, growing desperate, the husbands reached out to clans specializing in such matters.
"Typically, they come to us, explain their circumstances, and ask us to find their wives, but what they truly want in the end is..."
"For them to be killed?"
"Yes."
"Seriously? They actually commission you to kill their own wives?"
"They would rather we kill them and bring back the corpse. If they want to claim she died of an illness, they need a body, don't they? The trend of mummification funerals played a part in this, too. They tell the neighbors they are holding a mummification funeral, then come to us requesting that we find their missing wives—saying they don't care whether she is brought back alive or dead."
"Why? They could just keep saying she's ill. Why go out of their way to hold a fake funeral claiming she's dead?"
"It is because there are times when their parents-in-law or relatives come to visit. They cannot exactly say, 'Your daughter has run away,' now can they? It becomes especially awkward if the wife's family is a powerful house. So, they simply claim she died. However, among them, there are bound to be skeptical fathers-in-law or siblings, are there not? They come to us to prepare for such situations."
"…."
"Mummification funerals generally follow the funeral rites brought over from the Eastern Continent, where the body is mummified first before the funeral is held. Since the body has to be sent to an embalmer for a few months to be mummified, it buys them time. During that period, they can ask us to find the wife. And as a precaution, they also search for a replacement corpse."
"How do you even manage to find them in a mere two months?"
"Most of the clients already knew where they were."
Leuke was utterly speechless. Should she call it chilling?
"They knew where they were, yet they didn't look for them?"
Kirke cast her gaze out the window. The silhouette of a jagged mountain reflected in her brown eyes.
"Because they couldn't bring themselves to go look..."