Marie gestured to me impatiently as I stood there, paralyzed by confusion.
“Hurry and come in. If you keep standing there, someone might spot you.”
For now, I did as I was told and climbed through the window into Marie’s room.
Marie quickly coiled the rope I had used and tucked it away into a pink box.
I could only watch her back blankly. The shock still hadn’t worn off.
‘If she’s 15 years old, how old would that be back home? About 17?’
Isn’t that just the age to graduate from middle school?
A forced marriage with a serial killer candidate at an age when she should be out eating tteokbokki with friends.
“Don’t just stand there; please, have a seat.”
“Ah, thank you.”
I started to sit down as instructed, then froze mid-motion.
“Is it really okay for me to sit on this?”
“Pardon? It’s just a chair.”
I didn’t think most people would call a pink flamingo a “chair.” However, looking closely, it seemed I could perch on its flat back. I cautiously sat down on the back of the flamingo-shaped mass of feathers.
Only then did the rest of the room come into focus.
‘What… on earth is this?’
Suddenly, my senses returned.
It was as if an extreme sweetness had neutralized a spicy flavor — one shock had been canceled out by another.
Pink, pink, and more pink. It was a literal feast of the color.
The wallpaper, the floor, the chairs, the desk, the bed, and even the teacup I was handed were all pink.
“It seems you really… like the color pink, Miss Menzel.”
“Haha, is it strange?”
Marie Menzel laughed as if it were of no consequence.
“I’ve simply been obsessed with *The Pink Lorelei* recently.”
“*The Pink Lorelei*…?”
What was that?
“Oh my, you don’t know it?”
Marie Menzel’s eyes widened, and then a torrent of words poured out of her.
“It’s the ambitious blockbuster that opened this past April at the Galleon Theater! The protagonist, Lorelei, is a woman who sees human emotions as colors. The cold Northern Grand Duke, Calix, dismisses her as a fraud, but he gradually realizes his attraction to her. In the end, Lorelei’s love heals the Grand Duke, and the man who was always a dark, navy blue is finally dyed pink… Kyaaa! I can’t say any more!”
I flinched instinctively at her dolphin-like shriek. Somehow, I felt like I finally knew the identity of that bizarre screaming I had heard earlier.
“Anyway, it’s a truly beautiful love story! You absolutely must see it! Not seeing it is a complete waste of your life!”
“I under— I understand. I’ll make sure to see it sometime.”
For now, I realized this young lady was a die-hard theater fan.
“I filled my room with pink to honor Lorelei’s love. Before this, my favorite play was *Scarlet: The Stigma of Red Sin*… Surely you won’t tell me you haven’t seen that one either?”
At the sharp glint in her eyes, I shook my head reflexively.
Marie’s tone softened considerably.
“Right. That is a work every cultured person should naturally see. Anyway, back then, the room looked completely different from how it does now.”
“Was it orange then, by any chance?”
“No? It was prison-themed. Since it’s a romance story that takes place in a prison, you see. I covered the walls in black, used tattered rags for my blankets, and wore a prisoner’s uniform. Ah, I still use the striped prisoner’s uniform I wore then as my pajamas.”
She added that the rope she had lowered for me was also part of the *Scarlet* theme.
“That’s the rope the protagonist’s party used when they escaped from prison. A close sister gave it to me along with the striped uniform as a gift. I used to play at escaping with her using that rope, but my parents were so horrified that I had to keep it in storage. I was happy I could put it to good use this time, though!”
A noble lady climbing ropes while wearing a prison uniform. I was starting to realize just how much of an eccentric this girl was.
‘Wasn’t her father the one who dragged his daughter out of the police station? Claiming it was all just her delusion?’
Up until then, I had thought of him as a wicked parent selling off his daughter…
But now, other thoughts were beginning to surface.
“Miss Marie Menzel.”
“Just Marie is fine.”
“Then, Marie, this is a rude question, but I must ask because it’s necessary. Have you ever confused a play with reality in the past?”
Marie’s expression, which had been cheerful throughout, suddenly sank.
“I think I know why you’re asking. No, I just like plays; I don’t confuse them with reality. But… even my father wouldn’t believe me. He seems to think I’m crazy.”
‘I thought so…’
Because Marie was a fanatical theater addict, her report had been dismissed.
“But please believe me! I’m not crazy, and I’m not so depressed that I’m confusing plays with reality! That man — my husband-to-be, Grand Duke Kalan — is a truly dangerous person! I know it. I know what he did to Sister Elise!”
“Calm down, Marie!”
Marie suddenly began to gasp as if she were hyperventilating.
“Be calm. Now, let’s count slowly. One, two…”
Fortunately, it didn’t take long for Marie’s breathing to return to normal.
“Ah, I’m sorry. I’m usually fine, but sometimes… I just get like this.”
Marie spoke gloomily.
“I suppose that’s why everyone thinks I’ve lost my mind.”
“It’s not strange. And I don’t think you’re crazy,” I said firmly.
In the modern world, hyperventilation wasn’t that rare of a symptom. Moreover, in Marie’s case, the reason for it seemed clear.
“You witnessed or heard something terrifying, didn’t you?”
Marie nodded weakly.
“It is not strange at all for someone who has experienced something horrific to have trauma remain.”
“But except for these sudden fits, I laugh and chatter as if nothing’s wrong.”
“Even so.”
I didn’t know much about mental illnesses, but I did know that trauma didn’t manifest in only one way.
‘Her appearing excessively cheerful despite the situation might also have been a type of avoidance response to protect her mind from the reality facing her.’
I observed Marie. Thankfully, she seemed much calmer.
“If you’re okay with it, could you tell me more about this ‘Sister Elise’?”
“…Her full name is Elise Crimson.”
‘Crimson? I think I’ve heard that somewhere.’
As I tilted my head, Marie wore a bitter smile.
“Yes. That’s right. Grand Duke Kalan’s first wife. The ill-fated woman who died just 3 days after her wedding, Elise Crimson. That was Sister Elise.”
“…! Were the two of you acquaintances?”
“It was more than that. Elise and I were friends. We were soulmates.”
Marie clasped her hands to her chest.
“Age, status… none of that mattered in the face of our friendship.”
***
Marie was an eccentric.
She didn’t particularly enjoy socializing with others.
She found it much more fun to dig into her hobbies alone during that time. She preferred a theater actor’s prison uniform over a dress and the theater over a social gala.
Because she liked whatever she liked fanatically without caring about the gaze of others, she had embarrassed those around her more than once or twice.
Naturally, she had no close friends.
“Marie! Do you want to go see *Scarlet* at 4:00 PM?”
Except for one person: Elise.
“We’ve already seen it twelve times, though?”
“Exactly! Let’s go see the thirteenth performance!”
“Yahoo! You’re the best, Elise!”
The two of them couldn’t have been a better match.
It was as if they were made for each other.
Neither the 4-year age difference nor the status of a Marquis’s daughter versus a Baron’s daughter could hinder their friendship. They were best friends who shared everything.
Until that day arrived.
“I heard you’re getting married to Grand Duke Kalan?”
“Yeah, that’s how it turned out…”
“But why do you look so down? He’s the Northern Grand Duke.”
Marie and Elise always went to see plays together.
For some reason, the Northern Grand Duke often appeared as the male lead in plays, and Marie had naturally developed a fantasy about them.
‘Isn’t he actually quite a catch?’
The master of the Northern Grand Duchy and a noble man related to the royal family. Wasn’t he the ideal husband?
However, Elise’s expression was strangely dark.
“Marie… I don’t want to get married.”
“Why? Did you find someone you like?”
“No. How could I?”
“Then? Is the Northern Grand Duke actually incredibly ugly?”
“No, it’s not that. He’s… quite handsome.”
“Is he being really mean to you?”
“That’s not it either. He treats me very politely and kindly, but…”
Trailing off, Elise buried her face in her hands.
“Ah, I’m sorry! There’s nothing wrong with the Grand Duke, yet I still don’t want to do this!”
“I mean, why on earth not?”
“……”
That day, Elise ultimately said nothing more.
‘It’s strange. She always said she didn’t care who she married.’
Elise was the type to say she didn’t expect much from an arranged marriage and would find a way to love her partner as long as they weren’t severely deficient.
For that very Elise to refuse marriage so vehemently…
‘There must be some incredible, unspeakable flaw.’
From that day on, Marie felt uneasy about Grand Duke Kalan.
A few days later, while they were coming out of a theater as usual, Elise spoke.
“Marie, I’ve made up my mind. I’m not going to marry Grand Duke Kalan.”
“Are you serious, Elise?”
“Yes.”
Elise spoke in a trembling but firm voice.
“I’m sure my father will be furious… but I simply can’t go through with this marriage. I’m going to tell Grand Duke Kalan myself and break the engagement.”
Marie couldn’t bring herself to speak easily.
It was a common trope in plays, but in reality, breaking an engagement between noble families was difficult.
It wasn’t just about the loss of face for both families.
Marriage certificates would have already been exchanged, and for one side to unilaterally break the engagement, they had to pay a substantial penalty.
That is, unless both parties destroyed the marriage certificates at the same time to act as if it had never happened.
“…Do you think Grand Duke Kalan will destroy the marriage certificate?”
Marie asked with a faint glimmer of hope.
If the opponent was a gentleman, perhaps he would consider Elise’s circumstances.
“Probably not.”
Elise shook her head with a bitter smile.
“Even so, I’m going to break this engagement. No matter what it takes.”
“…I’ll be rooting for you.”
“Thank you, Marie. I knew you’d be on my side.”
Elise gave Marie a tight hug and then went on her way. Marie could only watch her back with uneasy eyes and pray for her luck.
The incident happened that night.
*Clack! Clack!*
Someone threw stones at Marie’s bedroom window.
“Goodness, who is it? What if the glass breaks!”
Marie stood by the window, fuming.
She intended to identify the culprit and tell the guards to give them a stern scolding.
“…Huh?”
But the moment she saw the silhouette of the person reflected in the dim moonlight, Marie froze.
“…Sister?”
Elise Crimson, the daughter of a Marquis, was standing there. Wrapped in a plain brown robe, she was throwing stones at Marie’s window.
‘Elise isn’t the type to play a prank like this.’
Sensing that the situation was dire, Marie hurried down the stairs. It was late at night, so the house was quiet, and no servants were awake except for the guards at the main gate.
‘She must want to meet me in secret.’
It was surely because of the talk of breaking the engagement they had earlier that day.
Marie slipped out the back door to avoid notice and stood in the garden behind the house. Through the bars of the fence, she could see Elise’s face, which was pale with fright.
“Elise! What on earth is going on?”
“Marie. I, I…”
Elise bit her lip for a long time, unable to speak, before she finally found her voice.
“I… I met Taylor John.”
“What…?”
“It’s not just that I met him! He’s…!”
Elise, who looked like she was about to say something, suddenly whipped her head around.
“…The sound.”
“Elise?”
“I hear a sound, Marie. I have to run!”
Now Marie was terrified as well.
What sound did she hear, and what on earth was she running from?
“You mustn’t tell anyone you met me today, Marie. Let’s talk again next time!”
Leaving only those words behind, Elise ran frantically and disappeared into the darkness.
But the “next time” Elise spoke of never came.
Only a few days later, Elise left for the North to marry the Grand Duke she had claimed to hate so much.
And a few days after that, the news of Elise’s death arrived.