Episode 9.

"Diane is right."

Gordon always wore a fake, smiling face, but not at this moment. Flustered by the Pope defending a child who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, Gordon looked around, trembling.

"An oracle was bestowed upon Diane last night, and we gathered evidence based on that divine message," the Pope stated.

"That's a lie! That's impossible!" Gordon stammered.

"Didn't you lose one of the brooches you were wearing the day you met with the Baron's daughter?" the Pope countered smoothly.

"……!"

"Turn yourself in, Gordon Black."

Before Gordon could even form a rebuttal, knights burst through the entrance of the funeral hall, swarming the room. These were not the Pope's Holy Knights; they were Imperial Knights clad in gleaming golden armor.

"We have come to arrest the sinner, Gordon Black. Step forward at once and confess your crimes," the Imperial Knight Commander declared.

"D-Did Gordon really kill our daughter?" The Baroness shrieked. Foaming at the mouth with grief, she lunged at him.

"A-ah, l-let go of me!" Gordon yelped.

"That marriage document is also forged," I chimed in. "On the day she was murdered, Lady Camila demanded a broken engagement."

At my words, the Pope handed the torn piece of the letter to the Imperial Knight Commander.

"That man borrowed money from Lady Camila to gamble," I continued.

"How could you…!" the Baron gasped.

"The promissory note," I said, sharply rebuking Gordon. "You must still have it in your desk drawer, right?"

"……!"

"Were you so out of your mind that you didn't even realize your brooch was torn off during the struggle?"

Gordon staggered backward at my accusations. At that moment, the Pope stepped forward, shielding me with his tall frame in case Gordon lashed out.

"She is correct. During the autopsy of the corpse, we recovered a brooch engraved with the Black family's crest from within her clenched fist." He pulled the bloodstained brooch from his coat and held it high for all to see.

Confronted with the undeniable truth, the mourning guests rose from their seats, hurling shock and curses at the murderer.

"No……. No! I said no!" Gordon pleaded.

"You damn son of a bitch!"

"How dare you pretend to be pitiful after killing her!"

‘……Thank you.’

Amidst the roaring commotion, a quiet, ethereal voice rang clearly in my ears. Hugging the plush toy tightly, I whispered back, "I'm sorry. This is all I can do for you."

The doll in my arms gently shook its head from side to side.

‘You were really scared because of me, weren't you?’

"……Yes," I answered after a moment of hesitation. It was the truth, after all. Honestly, I had been absolutely terrified.

Gordon twisted his body and screamed, desperately trying to shake off the Imperial Knights, but he couldn't escape their iron grip.

Then, Baron Triel—who had been standing silently while supporting his sobbing wife—strode forward. Seeing the Baron approach, Gordon begged with a desperately hopeful face.

"I didn't! I didn't do it! You know me, Baron!"

"Yes. I know you very well……"

The Baron grabbed Gordon tightly by the collar. The older man was so furious that his massive hands were trembling.

"I tolerated your cheating time and time again."

"……!"

"But how dare you… to my daughter……!"

"I, i-it's a- a misunderstand—"

With a heavy, blunt thud, Gordon's face snapped violently to the side.

The Pope covered my eyes with his large hand, whispering softly in my ear. "Baron Triel is a retired mercenary. His punches pack quite a punch."

"……Ah."

"Honestly, it's quite refreshing. But this isn't a scene a child should be watching."

Gordon couldn't utter a single excuse. The sickening sound of his face being repeatedly struck echoed through the stunned silence of the hall. No one stepped in to stop the Baron. Not even the Imperial Knights.

"……Honey," the Baroness called out, unable to bear the gruesome sight anymore.

But the Baron's fists didn't stop. Instead, they only grew faster and more merciless. Finally, an Imperial Knight stepped forward, grabbing the Baron's arm to safely restrain him.

"How dare you! How dare you! My daughter! My daughter!" the Baron roared, thrashing against the knight's hold.

"Honey!"

At his wife's desperate cry, the Baron's bloodshot eyes blinked, his blurred focus finally returning. He stared blankly at the knight blocking his arm, and then, slowly, broke down into heavy, gut-wrenching sobs. The Baroness shook her head, hyperventilating as she cried with him.

"Stop……"

Gordon's face was a bloody mess, swollen to the point where his handsome features were utterly unrecognizable. Coughing and spitting out a mouthful of blood, Gordon let out a deranged giggle. "Shit…… That hurts."

Disgusted, a furious knight kicked him squarely in the face. Gordon's eyes rolled back, and he collapsed into a dead faint.

"We apologize for the disturbance," the Imperial Knight Commander said, stepping over the unconscious man. "We will drag this sinner away and interrogate him."

"Please do," the Pope replied calmly.

The Knight Commander saluted the Pope and ordered his men to withdraw. Gordon was dragged out of the hall by his bound arms like a sack of garbage.

It was truly over now.

I looked at Liam with a complicated expression. The Holy Knight Commander was silently staring at the doors where Gordon had just been dragged away.

I hesitated, my fingertips carefully stroking the soft fur of the bunny doll. A corner of my heart felt strangely heavy.

The kindhearted Liam would probably be tormented by the revelation.

Liam was the quintessential Holy Knight. He was an honest man with an upright personality and an unyielding sense of justice—a man who strictly believed only in what he could see. And yet, I had to convey a ghost's unrequited love to someone like that.

Even I, who had just confirmed the existence of ghosts yesterday, still struggled to accept this new reality. However, I shook my head to clear the doubts. She had said the last person she thought of before she died was Liam. Thinking of Camila, who had spent countless nights yearning for this one person…

Mustering my courage, I approached Liam, clutching the doll tightly.

"Sir Liam."

He looked down. His eyes were far more serious and tired than usual, but a gentle smile reflexively formed on his lips when our gazes met.

"I have something to tell you," I said calmly. He was the first person to treat me with genuine warmth in this harsh new world. To be honest, I wanted him to think highly of me. "It might sound a little strange, but please listen."

"Of course. Please speak."

I gulped.

"For the past few days, a ghost… no, a soul, has been attached to you, Sir Liam."

"……Pardon?"

Watching his face turn pale, I pressed on. "She said she loved you. Even before she died, and even after."

He froze in place. "Do you know Lady Camila Triel?"

"That lady is……" He trailed off, his gaze drifting toward the coffin.

"That's right," I confirmed.

"……!"

"The truth is, she wanted to break off her engagement and confess to you. Even if she was rejected, she just wanted her feelings to reach you, if only once……"

My voice trembled. I slowly pulled the doll away from my chest. Perhaps because our auras had been linked for so long, it felt as though our emotions had completely synchronized.

"S-Saintess……" Liam stammered.

"Please, let me finish." I took a deep breath. "She said the last person she thought of before she died was you, Sir Liam."

"……I."

"You don't need to feel burdened. No, she said she didn't even need you to know. She just wanted you to remember her. She wanted you to know that, even if just for a moment, simply looking at you made her happy."

"……"

Overwhelmed, Liam bowed his head. I remained silent, respecting his moment of mourning.

‘……Thank you, truly.’

At that exact moment, the doll shifted. As the ghostly voice trailed off, a thread-thin golden light unfurled into the sky from the plush toy, and a subtle, sweet floral scent diffused through the stale air of the hall.

‘I'm at peace now.’

The final farewell echoed from within the doll. The next moment, the space in front of my eyes wavered like a heat mirage, and Camila's spirit materialized.

She had long, wavy brown hair, large, clear eyes, and wore a pale but undeniably warm smile. It was the exact same Camila Triel I had seen weeping inside the carriage. She looked at Liam one last time and smiled brightly.

Leaning in, she lightly pressed her spectral lips to his forehead in a chaste kiss.

"……Just now, what was that?" Liam asked blankly, raising a hand to touch his forehead.

"You felt that?" I asked, surprised.

"Ah, just a slightly warm sensation……"

It was fascinating. Camila's ghostly eyes widened in joyous shock that he had felt her touch. Then, her form grew completely transparent, dissolving into motes of golden light. It was a brief and fleeting occurrence, but its lingering resonance warmed the hall for a long time.

I stared blankly at the floating lights before rubbing my face with my fingertips. A foreign sensation met my hands.

I was crying.

"……Why am I crying?" I mumbled, flustered. She was just a ghost who had spent the last couple of days terrifying me. Yet, my heart ached so profoundly that I regretted ever wishing for her to detach from me quickly.

Liam didn't say a word. He just quietly stood guard by my side.

"Camila left with a happy smile," I offered, sniffling softly.

"If she was happy, I'm glad," Liam replied softly. "I only feel apologetic that I didn't realize it sooner."

I nodded at his words. Very slightly. Just like that, we stood together in the quiet hall for a long while.

Conveying the words left unsaid in life on someone's behalf, unearthing buried emotions—it was the moment I realized that, although I was small and powerless, my actions could offer a great salvation for someone else.

Hugging the doll tightly to my chest, I felt something other than fear for the first time. It was a deeply warm, fulfilling emotion.

"……Farewell, Camila," I whispered.

The doll remained perfectly still in my arms.