The lack of dust suggested that he had frequented the place. There must have been many secret passages in this labyrinthine palace, but Rosentine hadn't expected the Prince to reveal to her the one he used himself.
Maybe she wished she'd never known. It was just a slash-and-burn relationship between a temporary employee and an employer.
"If someone steals from here later, you can think that I sold it to them."
She knew she'd eventually regret this position, so she tried to calm herself by saying things she didn't mean. Shartus, his face barely visible in the darkness, simply smiled in amusement.
Even to her, it seemed utterly impractical. Could he really throw his barely saved life back onto the street? Rosentine, who had laughed deflatedly, looked straight ahead.
Across the passage, a few minutes' walk away, a dim light was beginning to dawn. It was a room decorated like a study.
There was a peculiar smell of an old, closed place. The smell of old books, the smell of memories, and Rosentine.
Inside, she found a beautifully crafted ivory antique.
Mura's Ivory. It was a work of art that even someone who didn't know it could have predicted. Exclamations flowed out.
Now she understood why Hostang had been jumping around so frantically.
It was a little smaller than the usual display cases, but its artistry was unlike anything I had ever seen before.
"...Should we put the breaking on hold?"
Beneath the shelf where the ornaments were placed, the branches of the vines that had grown up from the bottom, intertwined with each other, sprouted delicate leaves as if they were blooming with life.
At the corners of the facade, people holding goblets of wine welcomed the festivities, arms outstretched to the sky. The chalice, nestled in a hollowed-out center, seemed to be a real chalice. Even the folds of the fabric were vibrantly decorated, and the Mura's Ivory was a work of art carved entirely from ivory.
It looked very heavy, but Rosentine could also tell that it had been hollowed out to accommodate a device inside.
It made perfect sense why the Collector Ghost raised his glasses, which never went up, and why Mura's ivory was always rumored to be genuine. Even if it wasn't genuine, anyone would want to own it. It was truly a precious artifact, too precious to destroy.
"Really..."
“It’s beautiful.”
Rosentine let out a gasp, and Shartus followed suit. Listening to his soft voice, Rosentine stepped forward and placed her hand on the ivory.
She was struck by the intricate carvings, each detail awe-inspiring. She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling each detail with her fingertips. She couldn't fathom how much the Prince had prepared to acquire such a legendary object.
At the moment when everyone was overwhelmed by the majesty of Ivory, she slowly opened her eyes and spoke.
"There are two traps."
"Is it coming out right away?"
Rosentine nodded. She felt this was the perfect time to tell him everything she knew. Mura's ivory had given her a surge of energy, enough to unleash her previously untapped abilities.
Shartus lingered his gaze on her face for a long time. He was worried that she might become tired after the work was done. While Rosentine was unaware of his gaze, Shartus remembered her in the slum alley.
Her fingers moved over the piece as if playing a tune, a movement that touched the top of the glass and the roots of the vines.
'Mura's ivory is a stolen item.'
The Collector Ghost said so. Rosentine's eyes widened. It was a different story from the myths she'd heard. Their story was clearly about brave generals sailing to the land of the gods.
Just like in the Odyssey, they defeated the three hundred-eyed monster that guarded the ivory and received the Mura's Ivory in return. The story goes that anyone who looked into the monster's eyes became ill, and it was Mura's ivory that cured the illness.
'...You can see it that way too.'
'Mura's is a heist that is certainly closer to history than legend.'
The legend that it was a battle between the tribes that lived in Auro has long rewritten and passed down as a myth. However, the truth is that it was a story closer to a battle of conquest.
It was not known why the story of the desert, where tribes grew and came into contact with each other, had changed into the sea, but the description certainly suggested that it had.
'So it's not just blessings.'
'Then?'
'It's a trap. One resurrection leads to one death. That's the truth of the legend.'
So, when the healing power arrived, the person who manipulated the decoration to release that healing power would be poisoned. Rosentine found that absurd.
The thought that whoever planned this was more than just thorough, perhaps he was a psychopath. She pondered deeply whether this even counted as an assassination. What kind of murder method is this, a bizarre one?
Rosentine asked, recalling the 'proper usage' that remains in legend.
"How much did it cost to buy the display case?"
"About a year and a half."
"How do you know how to use it?"
"You put your hand into the root and pour the wine into the glass. You can then operate the device inside."
“Did you believe it?”
"Rumors got around, and there was no other way."
Shartus must have been desperate. He judged this to be an assassination plot and nodded.
If the culprit was well-versed in the affairs of the high palace and had prepared a display case while spreading rumors, he could have prepared this sufficiently.
What infuriated Rosentine was that this seemingly cool-headed man had exploited his longing. She wondered if he might have been taken advantage of, even if he had known the whole story. She felt a surge of anger. Rosentine spoke, as if she was chewing on something.
"For every resurrection, there is a death."
“What do you mean?”
"...Is that a trap?"
Lucien approached and examined the cabinet with a worried expression. He had his suspicions, but he couldn't figure out each and every device inside.
The ceremony for Princess Aventua and the decoration for the Crown Prince, both of which Shartus had no choice but to endure.
There was nothing there. Hostang's face was frozen hard.
He drew his sword, the exact opposite of what he had been jumping for. A sharp sound filled the room, which smelled of staleness.
“I’ll cut it.”
“Let’s smash it.”
This time, two subordinates stepped forward. Rosentine agreed, but before she did, she looked at Shartus.
He still looked at the three attendants who were stepping forward for him with an unreadable expression. Even on the verge of death, he looked utterly perfect.
"...For a moment."
The only difference was that Rosentine no longer had the heart to do so. She looked at Shartus sternly, her eyes meeting his and a smile forming on her face.
If that guy was a psychopath, then he was just a cheater with more tools than that.
"You have to make use of what you have."
“Can you get rid of it?”
“I will try.”
Rosentine said firmly.
It was a voice that made the two men lower the swords they were holding. Shartus looked at Rosentine's face.
Slowly, movement began to flow across the face, once as perfect as a sculpture. It was a lifelike beauty, more beautiful than Mura's ivory.
“What about utilization?”
"Didn't you want to save His Highness the Crown Prince?"
Shartus stared at her silently. Rosentine, naturally reading the affirmation in his eyes, looked back.
She placed her hand on the ivory.
"I will make sure you don't give up."
No one knew whether Mura's ivory truly possessed the legendary healing powers. Not even the ghost known as the Collector knew.
According to him, the records contained more details about those who died from the disease than about those who were cured of it.
Some records say that the disease was cured, while others say that there is no such record at all, and that the person who brought the decorative cabinet was simply arrested and killed for treason.
Since it had never appeared before, I wrote down the information. But there was one thing she knew.
'Correct usage.'
Knowing how a device works also allows for its applications.
Mura's ivory cabinet, which looked like a regular display cabinet, had all its devices in the lower part, the part where no objects were stored.
By placing your hand at the base of the vine, you can move the largest engraved wine glass to the center of the bottom of the display case. When liquid is poured into the glass, its mass causes the device to move, releasing the medicine into the wine.
However, as the poison spread through the wine, a monopoly passed over the hand that had been placed in it. It was unclear how strong the poison was or whether there was an antidote.
If the antidote is put out as a solution, but it is a poison that kills in seconds, there will be no harm done.
Rosentine looked at Shartus. His face looked decidedly more human than before.
The energy made him look even more magical. It was a bit burdensome, but Rosentine didn't look away and met his gaze.
Shartus, leaning against the ivory cabinet, looked down at her with his arms folded. Silver hair adorned the Mura's Ivory. It was as if it had been crafted that way from the beginning.
“Your way.”
"..."
"I think I can figure it out."
Shartus spoke slowly, his voice incoherent. He had been fixated on her for a moment, pondering something. Rosentine thought his eyes had become a little more radiant.
It was a kind she never seen before. For instance, a gaze she hadn't seen when he caught a spy and danced in the garden, or when he hired her. His eyes, reminiscent of the ice of some place untouched by human footsteps, were like jewels.
Rosentine focused on him, trying to notice the faint flicker in his eyes. Her hand, touched by the ivory, felt warm.
Finally, Rosentine found a word that spoke to the emotion in his eyes. It was just one word.
Anger.
'Why?'
Although she didn't understand, Shartus took a few steps forward and stood in front of Rosentine. Slowly, his hand reached out and touched Rosentine's face. He placed his hand on the tip of her chin and gently pushed it upward. Their eyes met. It was a chilling experience.
"Tell me, is this something you're risking your life for?"
A low voice subtly scraped the floor. It was similar to the voice used when threatening a spy, but the atmosphere contained within was different. Instead, it was a voice mixed with far more emotion, making Rosentine's stomach churn.
A chill ran down her spine, a strange feeling. Rosentine clenched her jaw in embarrassment.
She was speechless.
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