——The truth behind the "Invincibility" of the Authority of "Greed," associated with the names of stars.
The connection between star names known to Subaru and the names of the Archbishops of Sin.
"The Hand of Durga," the etymology behind Petelgeuse's epithet, overlapped in many ways with
Thus, Subaru hypothesized that the epithets of stars and the Authorities of the Archbishops of Sin were closely linked.
And the Archbishop of Sin of "Greed,"
Once dismissed with a laugh, Subaru turned this idea over once more, reframed it as something that was not meaningless conjecture, and arrived at a single hypothesis.
First, what was a "king"?
In the Kingdom of Lugnica, the Royal Selection was in full swing, with each candidate striving to demonstrate their own "kingly path." The form each candidate's path would take would soon be made abundantly clear, but what Subaru wished to discuss here was a "king" in a far more universal sense.
Namely, a king was the representative of a nation—the one who stood at its apex.
Without mincing words, one might even say they were the nation itself. But did that mean the nation existed solely through the king alone? It did not.
A nation existed because there was a "king" and "subjects" who followed.
Following that line of reasoning, Regulus Corneas, who bore the name "little king," could only style himself as such because he had the "subjects" to support him.
"Then who and where are the 'subjects' of this 'little kingdom' that makes Regulus its 'king'?"
That needed no thought.
The Archbishop of Sin who had launched an assault on the city of
Each of them was individually a demon of warped malice so twisted you would want to avert your eyes, yet Regulus was the only one who had bothered to bring along a troupe of unnecessary personnel.
Why had he felt it necessary?
Considering Regulus's personality, it could not be ruled out as simple egotism. But if it was not that—if it truly had been necessary—then: "To make Regulus the 'little king,' he needed 'subjects'—those wives of his. I don't know if distance is a factor, but because of that constraint, Regulus had no choice but to bring along fifty brides."
Were the conditions for his "Invincibility" the number of brides? Or perhaps the distance between him and them?
If the condition was that Regulus be the "little king," then perhaps his "authority" was limited to a certain range—the reach of his power, so to speak.
Either way, the brides were not irrelevant to Regulus's "Invincibility."
"But still, that's not quite enough to crack the whole trick."
With his current reasoning, all Subaru could deduce was the "little king" part.
The other epithet—"lion's heart"—remained unexplained. Beyond the overwhelming offensive and defensive power that came with his "Invincibility," the effect of being immune to outside influence still defied explanation.
If it were simple physical enhancement, Reinhard should have been able to break through it. Regulus's "Invincibility" clearly transcended that dimension of augmentation.
"It's not some super-powerful barrier, either. I've tried every way I can think of to break an 'invincible' enemy. On top of that, I confirmed that his heart isn't beating and he has no body temperature. So—"
The final piece, drawn from the epithet "lion's heart," was singular.
Regulus's Authority of "Greed" was not "Invincibility."
The truth behind the fiend's overwhelming Authority was—"the stasis of objects in time."
Satisfied. Content. Lacking nothing.
Regulus's warped self-justification, spouted at every turn, was nothing less than an expression of his very being—and, at the same time, an unwitting exposure of a power he had no need to conceal.
"Because his body's time is stopped, he isn't affected by attacks—aren't even touched by water. Because the sand I threw had its time stopped, it passed right through the wall as if it weren't there."
An ability familiar from manga—a power akin to "spatial severance."
A power that literally created fractures in space itself, severing anything that passed through regardless of its durability. Regulus's very existence was a version of that.
Regulus Corneas, frozen in time, could be called a spatial distortion unto itself.
"The difference in dimension" was exactly as he himself put it—"Invincibility" was merely a byproduct of the Authority of "object time-stop."
In other words—— "The treasure of frozen time—that's the truth of your Authority!"
"Getting all fired up to say that doesn't change anything—I don't know what you're talking about! You're one of those people, aren't you? The type who assumes everyone around you must know what you know? Have some self-awareness about your arrogance, you selfish brat!"
Regulus roared at Subaru, who was pressed against a stone wall, hiding while shouting taunts.
Without the slightest hesitation, Regulus's destructive march had torn through walls, cut across waterways, and crossed the city streets literally in a straight line—and at the end of it, he had caught up with Subaru.
Subaru was now meeting him head-on alone. Well, "meeting head-on" might paint a more flattering picture than reality. It was not, in truth, a particularly dignified fight.
"You're so annoying, skittering around like that! Did you think I'd say something like 'you're too cowardly to stop running'? You and I are not even in the same league. You saw what happened to the Sword Saint—can't you grasp that? No matter how you look at it, you're looking down on me!"
"When it's someone you hate, everything they do gets on your nerves, whether it's for your own good or not. Even if I run, all I can see is you finding fault. Besides… this choice is supposed to be the right one."
"Right one? Person selection, strategy—every last bit of it is twisted beyond recognition! That cheating slut who could still fight should have been the better pick, shouldn't she? Is there anything you can do other than steal another man's bride, you homewrecker?"
"That's a nasty way to put it."
Battered by Regulus's venomous tongue, Subaru refused to lose his composure.
He did not panic. He did not rush. While letting his disgust show, he kept controlling the exchange with words alone.
Currently, Subaru had lured Regulus into a district away from the church, parted ways with
"Confronting" might be overstating it. Subaru was hiding, endlessly repeating provocative actions, and doing nothing but buying time.
If Regulus truly set his mind to it and unleashed destructive force on an entire district, Subaru's plan would collapse in an instant. But he was confident that would not happen.
Through their brief and decidedly unfriendly encounters, Subaru had read Regulus's character with considerable accuracy.
Simply put, Regulus was scum.
To put it too simply to be of any use as an explanation.
To choose his words more precisely: Regulus placed his own values above all else, yet was fundamentally incapable of ignoring the existence of others.
In short, he was the very embodiment of validation-seeking and egotism.
He called himself without desire, mocked the idea that his existence was complete unto itself, yet could not live without showcasing his worth to others.
He imposed his sensibilities, painted over others' values, and forced his own supremacy through terror and violence.
That was not only how he treated his brides—it was his stance toward everything in existence.
And so Regulus fought with a kind of blunt, almost refreshingly straightforward aggression against everything that crossed his dealings with him.
His clash with Reinhard was proof enough.
If Regulus had so desired, he could have used his "Invincibility" to ignore all of Reinhard's attacks entirely, and on top of that, set about killing the irksome Subaru and Emilia.
The fact that Regulus did not resort to such rashness was because he had stubbornly, honestly faced every one of Reinhard's attacks head-on.
This was not evidence of any unexpected nobility in Regulus's psyche.
Quite the opposite—it was proof of a quality even more contemptible.
——Regulus was the kind of man who would not rest until he had crushed everything underfoot with his Authority.
That was why he would not dismiss the provoking Reinhard with a strategic decision to simply ignore him and kill Subaru in the process. He could not fight any other way: standing on the premise that he would not be hurt or defeated, he had to crush every last thing about his opponent and break their spirit.
That ugly humanity was nauseating to witness.
And the reason it felt that way was surely because, to some degree, everyone harbored such vicious emotions. Even Subaru was aware of his own ugliness.
Being forced to face it directly was why Regulus was so detestable.
And yet—for that very reason, a slim chance of victory could be glimpsed.
"If the treasure of frozen time isn't resonating with you, that's one thing—but is my theory completely off base? If you could, I'd at least like to confirm that much."
"Why should I be the one to answer that? There's no obligation or duty whatsoever, and refusing to reveal one's own secrets is a matter even more fundamental than rights. How far are you going to push me around? Do you want me to blast you to pieces before it sinks in?!"
Taking Subaru's bait, Regulus kicked off the ground.
His toes pierced the cobblestone as easily as scooping pudding, and the earth gave way. The scatter-shot he launched came screaming toward Subaru's hiding spot, guided only by the sound of his voice.
Before it could land, Subaru—who had already read Regulus's movements—was already away from the wall. Mid-escape, he shoved over a stone pillar at the street's edge.
The moment the rope tied to the pillar came loose, a cascade of light sounds followed in quick succession.
Regulus looked up to see countless chunks of ice plummeting toward him. With Emilia's help, Subaru had turned this entire street into a makeshift trap zone of his own design.
Naturally, even a direct hit would not harm Regulus in the slightest—but— "This kind of thing! They call it a one-trick pony, don't they!"
Regulus made no attempt to dodge the falling ice. He raised his arms and let it crash down over his entire body.
Of course, the ice, unable to penetrate his "Invincibility," shattered on impact and scattered, dispersing back into mana. Even the chunks that had missed him entirely, Regulus trampled and crushed them where they lay, as if to show off.
"What is this? If that long-winded lecture of yours was right, wouldn't this be the most pointless attack imaginable? That girl over there could put up a far better fight. All this running around in circles—what are you even trying to do?"
"What am I trying to do by running in circles? I'll tell you if you answer my question first. Fair exchange, right?"
"You and I—equal? Now who's flattering themselves!"
With a great leap backward, Subaru put distance between himself and Regulus.
To close in, Regulus bent his knees lightly and launched himself forward. Propelled by explosive force, he hurtled ahead, the gap between them shrinking in an instant.
Death's fingertips were about to reach Subaru—when, at the last moment, Regulus's footing vanished.
"What!?"
"I know this is a real shocker, but for a guy who only fights head-on, you're hilariously weak against tricks."
The trap was a classic pitfall—nothing more than having Emilia dig into the ground with magic and cover it with a thin lid of ice and soil.
Yet Regulus fell for this simple trap, the kind no seasoned fighter should ever be caught by. Ironically, this was proof that Regulus had never fought in any manner other than head-on.
Fair and square—crushing everything with his cheat-level ability from the front.
That was all he had done, all he could do. That was the proof.
"Finding ways around your Authority is one thing, but finding ways around you personally? I can think of plenty. Though if I keep this up, it's going to get hard to tell who the real villain is."
Having taken a shortcut to the church, Subaru had used the time he bought to set up this trap zone.
Emilia had objected to Subaru staying behind until the very end, but a dirty, underhanded style of fighting was not in Emilia's nature. She was better suited to the role she had been given. A right allocation of strengths.
"————"
While Regulus burst up from the pit, Subaru glanced down at his right foot. Just like when he had used parkour to escape earlier, his right foot felt remarkably good—as if he might forget it had ever been nearly torn away and covered in that inexplicable black pattern.
If this was truly the influence of "dragon blood," then the blood was speaking to Subaru.
It was telling him to show the prestige of the Dragon Kingdom to the imposter standing against the "King."
"In that case, consider it an overstepping of kindness. I'll take the benefit, though."
"Getting under my skin with your pathetic little tricks!!"
The ground exploded from within, showering the area with cobblestone fragments and clumps of earth.
All of it fell under the influence of Regulus's Authority, and devastating destruction tore through the street. It tore through it—but Subaru was nowhere within its reach.
Regulus, who had burst from the ground, glared at Subaru, now far away, with undisguised venom. Subaru, to make sure Regulus could see, raised his middle finger.
"You mentioned a 'one-trick pony,' sir—but which one of us was that about? There's an old saying about learning from others' mistakes, so why don't you start by taking a good look in the mirror?"
"To think… someone would mock me… to this extent…!"
When Subaru politely pointed out his flaws, Regulus's expression twisted into something truly savage.
The killing intent directed at Subaru had long since surpassed the boiling point, filling the fiend's otherwise unchanging interior like a roaring inferno.
That this played perfectly into Subaru's hands was something Regulus had not the slightest clue about.
Rather than honing his killing intent, Regulus had merely let it bristle and seethe—and as long as that continued, it would never reach its target. Regulus did not even possess the awareness to recognize that.
"Of course, that doesn't mean I can afford to let my guard down."
Subaru wiped the sweat from his neck and, like Regulus, hid his resolve behind a frivolous smile.
He must not let Regulus figure out that he was stalling for time. Even if his intentions were seen through, his true objective must not be.
That was Subaru's duty as the one who had shouldered the conditions for victory here and sent Emilia on her way.
As the one who had sworn to Emilia that they would each fulfill their role.
And so—— "I'm counting on you, Emilia. —Get the brides to tell the truth."
※※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ When Emilia reached the church, the brides were still there, exactly as before.
"Thank goodness. You're all still—"
Surveying the gathered brides, Emilia almost let the words slip from her mouth.
But she stopped herself at the last moment—because the brides lined up before her were, in the truest sense, unchanged from before.
As far as Emilia's memory served—not one of them had so much as shifted in her seat since the last time they had left the church.
"Because Regulus ordered them not to move?"
That this was not a coercive effect of his ability—Emilia had been told by Subaru when he explained the Authority of "Greed."
Subaru had added the caveat "It's only a theory," over and over, but Emilia believed his answer without doubt.
As for what each of them—Subaru and Emilia—had to do in order to defeat the fiend, she accepted that as well.
"If everyone stayed behind… then the first hurdle is cleared."
The most terrifying possibility would have been if the brides had left the church and gone into hiding—or scattered and fled.
Before that even became an issue, they would have been forced to resort to the last measure. Subaru had made that suggestion through gritted teeth, and if it could be avoided, Emilia did not want to carry it out.
So— "Everyone, let's talk."
There was no time.
She had to make them listen to a story they might not even want to hear—right here, right now.
"How is—my husband?"
The first to respond as Emilia stepped into the center of the half-destroyed church was a blonde woman—Number 184.
Unlike the other brides, who stood in orderly rows maintaining their silence, she alone was sitting collapsed before the ruined altar.
With the same cold eyes she had worn when she had changed Emilia's clothes, given her counsel, and spoken of a future of despair, Number 184 addressed the returning Emilia without emotion.
"Regulus is outside. …I'm sorry. He's still fighting. I haven't been able to defeat him."
"I see. …I suppose so."
Number 184's lips relaxed—just barely.
It was so slight a smile it could not be called one. And the fact that it was not joy or sorrow, but something closer to a sneer—Emilia understood that well enough.
She had encountered plenty of smiles and words designed to hurt others.
So— "You're smiling with such a sad face. I don't think it suits you. That look."
"…Forgive me. Smiles are forbidden in the presence of my husband. I'm afraid I'm not very attractive when I make this expression."
"Don't apologize. What I want to say has nothing to do with that."
Emilia shook her head at Number 184's resigned words.
Heat gathered in a place inside her chest that was not her heart. Just as Subaru had said. She truly thought so.
An overwhelming, exasperating surge of raw emotion.
Closing her eyes, Emilia swallowed the roiling heat, surveyed the interior of the church, and spoke.
"I'm going to defeat Regulus. And I want all of you to help me."
"————"
"I don't know what Regulus has put you through until now. But even in the short time I spent with him, I could tell he was wrong."
Snatched away without consciousness, awakened to an immediate proposal, married without a breath's pause—she had seen and heard Regulus's views on marriage and how he treated his brides.
It was a far cry from the happy marriage Emilia imagined.
"I don't want to lose to Regulus. I know that winning or losing a fight doesn't prove anything is right. But today, right now, I don't want to lose to Regulus. If I lose, surely… something precious will be trampled."
"Something precious… you say?"
"————"
"If you didn't want to lose your life, you should have obeyed my husband from the start, or you should have fled with everything you had. That would have given you far better odds. You should have done that."
Number 184 responded in dark, hollow tones.
"What happened to the Sword Saint and your knight who were with you? They must have provoked my husband's wrath and lost. That's why you fled here alone."
"No. Subaru and Reinhard are still fighting Regulus. They're waiting for me to come back—they believe in me."
"What good does your return accomplish? And what do you mean, asking for our cooperation? …I don't understand."
"You truly don't understand?"
"…?"
At Emilia's question, Number 184 furrowed her brow in silence.
It was a natural reaction—she did not seem to be scheming anything. There was a weariness bordering on resignation, but it did not feel as though Number 184 had been weaving words with the intent to deceive Emilia.
In other words—at the very least, she did not know.
That Regulus's "heart" had been entrusted to one of the brides—including herself.
"What about the others? Do all of you really think this is fine? Is there no one—no one at all—who wants to do something about this, who keeps wishing someone would?"
"Please stop. If you want to talk, I will listen. If you want to speak, speak to me. My answer is everyone's answer."
As Emilia tried to read the will of those around her, Number 184 cut in with a rigid voice.
Stubborn—or perhaps brave. Emilia remembered how Number 184 had stood up to Regulus on her behalf, nearly risking her life.
It had certainly been a devoted act—but.
"It also feels like a reckless attitude toward something you should value—your own life."
"————"
"Honestly, aren't you the one who's least at peace with this?"
Looking back, Number 184 had been speaking to Emilia from the very beginning.
Not merely because Regulus had tasked her with looking after Emilia—but because she had stood up to Regulus on Emilia's behalf, stepped forward in representation of the other brides, and now sought to bear their words as well.
That attitude could almost make one suspect she was Regulus's confidant—deliberately leading Emilia and the brides in a direction favorable to him.
"But I don't think that's the case. I want to believe that you are not Regulus's 'heart.'"
Emilia had been saved by Number 184—many times over.
Not in ways that were visible—not by being shielded or guided by the hand.
But by someone who had walked ahead of her, so that she could avoid the insidious malice lurking in places she could not see.
For someone who could be that considerate of others— "I don't want to believe you're truly his bride."
"…Perhaps that is precisely why I approached you?"
"Maybe so. I'm not very smart, so if you were trying to trick me, I might fall for it completely. But—"
She did not know whether she had good judgment or not.
The people who sided with Emilia now had not chosen her—she had chosen them, wished for them to be by her side, and they had chosen to stand with her in return.
She did not feel extraordinary for being chosen.
She was always anxious, always on the verge of buckling under the weight of expectations placed upon her.
But she wanted to meet those expectations. She wished to become someone who could—and so— "I want to believe in you. Because that is something I chose."
"————"
"Why is it that you always step forward in place of everyone else who has fallen silent? Why is it that, even with that look of resignation in your eyes, you helped me? Why is it that—"
"So many questions."
Number 184 interrupted Emilia's string of questions and shook her head.
Then, for the first time since arriving here, she slowly raised her head and looked Emilia in the eye.
A frozen expression, devoid of emotion.
Terribly parched eyes, lips pressed tight.
Her anguish only served to accentuate the taut beauty of the woman before her. But Emilia thought— "Please—leave. Quickly. If my husband sees you, none of us will survive."
"Tell me."
"There is no obligation for me to answer your questions. You are no longer my husband's bride. You are different from us."
"——I'm a half-elf."
"What?"
At Emilia's confession, the woman was stunned into silence.
For the first time, Emilia felt she had caught her off guard, and she smiled faintly. At the same time, the woman understood the weight of Emilia's words.
She realized that the person standing before her was the silver-haired half-devil.
"Silver… half-elf…"
"I'm sure you and I are different. Our circumstances, our backgrounds—and in more fundamental ways, too. But that doesn't mean everything about us is different and we can't connect at all."
"————"
"What I see must be the same as what you see. When we're sad, we cry. When something is unbearable, we're angry. When we're happy, we can smile. That's the same, isn't it?"
"What… are you trying to say?"
As Emilia pressed on, Number 184 let out a breath.
Asked again, Emilia herself faltered. What did she want to say? What had she been trying to say? Everything was getting jumbled.
It was proof she was speaking from emotion alone. Losing sight of her main point would defeat the whole purpose. She needed to convey her feelings straight and true, the way Subaru did—— "Um, so what I mean is…"
She wanted to know something. She wanted to hear something.
About Regulus's "heart." About why Number 184 had stepped forward to lead the brides. About how, despite looking ready to throw everything away, she had shielded Emilia when it mattered most.
She wanted to bundle all of that together and hear the answer.
Before that, there was something she needed to know first.
And that was—— "Could you tell me your name?"
"————"
"I'm Emilia—just Emilia. There are lots of places where you and I are different, but I'm sure there are places where we're the same. I'm a half-elf."
"Hah…"
"If we can see the same things, feel the same things, wish for the same things… then talking is never meaningless."
Once, she had been asked her name in much the same way.
When she was frightened. When she was convinced she could rely on no one. When she felt she was being swept away by the current of everything around her.
At a time like that, those same words had seized her heart.
Now, looking back, she thought— At that moment, she had been happy.
She had been happy because a boy of unknown origins had acknowledged her existence, simply as it was.
When you had been denied so many times, and those words were suddenly thrown your way—there was no turning back.
"————"
Once again, she had relied on Subaru's strength.
A self made entirely of borrowed pieces and patchwork.
But that was fine.
"Don't… make me laugh… why, of all times… now…"
In front of Emilia, Number 184—the woman—clutched her head and exhaled with stubborn reluctance.
Her expression was bitter, her voice was laced with venom, and her eyes burned with a look of pure, seething hatred.
It was the first genuine, unfiltered emotion Emilia had managed to draw out of her—— "Why are you trying to turn us back into humans NOW?!"
The torrent of emotion she had been suppressing finally burst free, and she screamed.
"Being human doesn't matter! Being a doll is fine! That man is satisfied as long as we're obedient dolls. If we just play along with his little doll games, our lives are spared! That's what we believed—and we survived because of it—until you came along!"
She turned on Emilia, furious.
What could an outsider who understood nothing possibly know about the days they had fought so desperately to survive?
"What do you even know about us?!"
"I know you're kind."
"What do you even know about us?!"
"I know you've all been trying so hard."
"What… could you possibly… know about us?!"
"I know that all of you are screaming for help."
At Emilia's words, the woman's head snapped up.
Eyes wide, lips trembling as if gasping.
She had not spoken those words. Not a single one.
Because surely, during all those days, if she had ever uttered those words, their hearts would have broken.
The despair of wanting to be saved and the hope of seeking salvation were two sides of the same coin.
To harbor such hope had not been permitted—not for any of them. To keep their hearts from shattering, they had been forced to crush them down.
So, even though they had been robbed of the simple ability to ask for help— "I could tell that every part of you was saying you wanted to be saved. That's why I'm going to save you. I'm going to free you from Regulus. And for that purpose—"
"————"
"Lend me your strength. Let me help you, and help the people fighting right now—please."
She bowed her head.
Emilia bowed—sincerely, earnestly, pouring her wish into the gesture.
Her eyes fixed on the ground.
Her own heart was hammering so hard it hurt, and she could feel the faint sounds of surrounding breath like a raging storm.
She felt as though she might be knocked over at any moment, and she bit down hard on her back teeth, forcing her courage forward.
She was not the only one who was afraid.
Surely, the brides had lived with unending nightmares, far longer and far worse than hers.
And then— "…Please, wait a moment."
"————"
As Emilia continued to bow, the woman—who had been biting her lip—spoke.
She exhaled a long breath and turned her gaze away from Emilia. There, the brides stood in silence, watching the exchange.
"There is something I want to ask. Something I've wanted to ask all of you for a long time but couldn't."
The woman spoke, and the brides' expressions froze—but they said nothing.
Emilia, too, was unable to speak as she awaited the outcome.
In a sea of held breath, the woman who had always led the brides forward asked: "Is there anyone here who loves that man?"
The question, posed with a tilted head, echoed through the church.
Emilia was taken aback by its content. Even the silent brides exchanged glances, their confusion and flickers of emotion surfacing.
Those ripples spread outward— "…I hate him."
A single, hoarse voice broke through, squeezed out like a dying breath.
It was not Emilia, and it was not the woman who represented the brides. It was one among the ranks—a woman with short hair.
And the impact of that one squeezed-out word was felt by more than just Emilia.
"I hate him too." "I hated him." "I always hated him." "I hate him, I really hate him." "Something is wrong with him." "He's insane." "Who could ever fall in love with him?" "He only loves himself." "I rejected him a thousand times in my mind." "I wanted to cry." "But I couldn't." "I hate him." "He should just die." "I hate him." "I hate him, I hate him, I truly hate him." "His eyes are disgusting." "His way of talking is disgusting." "The way he walks is disgusting." "His personality is disgusting." "I cannot love his humanity." "I hate him more today than I did yesterday." "I'll hate him even more tomorrow." "It's repulsive." "Pervert." "He's a child." "Less than a child." "A land dragon would be better." "There's nothing to compare him to." "It's physically impossible." "I hate him, hate him, hate him." "I was always nauseous." "I thought about killing him so many times." "The worst." "The absolute worst." "Being near him makes me want to vomit." "Being touched by him makes me feel like I'm rotting." "My soul was dying." "The enemy of my family." "How could I love someone who dragged me away by force?" "I can't believe his unconscious malice." "I want him to suffer and die." "He talks too long and goes in circles. I wish he'd die for every unnecessary word he speaks." "I wish his intestines would rot." "Give me back my lover." "I want to go home, I want to go home…" "I don't need saving—just kill him." "Scumbag." "Never again—I'll hate him forever!" "No woman could ever love someone like that!" "No man either." "No human being could ever love him."
Like a dam breaking, the brides finally let loose the words they had been choking down for so long.
The words that spilled forth were brimming with heartfelt loathing and resentment, with years of pain and suffering—and listening to them was far from pleasant.
And yet—the expressions of those who spoke them were radiant, more open than Emilia had ever seen.
"We all agreed, but no one ever said it."
"Do you have something to say too?"
"Yes, I do."
After hearing the brides' confessions, the woman turned back to Emilia.
She swept a hand over her long blonde hair and smiled—a full, genuine smile—for the first time, shattering the command she had been given never to smile.
"I hated that man with every fiber of my being. —Please, help us."
And with that, she signed the severance letter with a smile.