"Don't be absurd... I would never kill my own son and his wife... yes, never...!"
Loser's face went deathly pale, his lips trembling as he stammered out his defense.
"My son was killed by the Empire... Yes, while he was on an undercover mission, he fell into their hands..."
"Wrong."
Urula shook her head slowly.
Brushing aside her grandfather's protest, she presented the merciless truth.
"Father intended to make peace with the Empire. So you killed him."
"Ngh...!"
"Mother intended to take me and run away. So you killed her."
"N-No! You're wrong!"
Loser waved his hands frantically.
The sudden motion sent the items on his desk scattering, and spilled ink began to bloom across the floor.
His complexion moved past pale, turning as white as parchment.
His reaction spoke louder than words, confirming that Urula's accusations were fact... yet the old man continued to shout.
"You're wrong, you're wrong, you're wrong... I'm not to blame! Yes... I did nothing wrong!"
"............"
"My boy... he was talking such soft-headed nonsense, saying we could understand the Empire... He was unworthy of inheriting the name of Loser! He abandoned his mission to contact Imperial nobles... It was unforgivable! I could never have faced our ancestors!"
"So you killed him?"
"That woman was no better! I took her in because she possessed the Spirit Eyes, but she tried to flee the moment my son was dead! She tried to steal the child... the grandchild who carries my blood... Unforgivable! Unforgivable!"
"So you killed her?"
"The Empire is at fault! Everything, everything is the fault of the Empire, the sworn enemy of the Margrave Lavender House!"
"............"
As the old man ranted, a flicker of sadness crossed Urula’s face.
"Gugh...!"
In the next instant, something like a thin needle pierced the side of Loser’s neck.
The projectile had come from the window. Through the narrow gap where the window was ajar, a wooden blowgun-like tube had been inserted.
"Ack... gurgle..."
Loser’s face turned a bruised purple as he collapsed to the floor, his limbs twitching in convulsions.
Looking down at her grandfather, Urula narrowed her eyes.
"Thank you."
"No, we have merely fulfilled our duty," a voice answered.
It was Arlie.
"Our 'Shadow' unit... the 'Sky-Demon' has served the Margrave Lavender House for generations. We serve with our very lives. No gratitude is necessary."
"Mm."
"Even so... since you have given away the ring, there will be those who refuse to obey. Was it truly wise to entrust it to him?"
"No problem."
She meant it didn't matter.
The 'Sky-Demon' was a secret unit bound to the Lavender family. While the ring was technically required to command them fully, there were those like Arlie who would follow Urula even without it.
For the current Urula, that was enough.
"...It wouldn't have mattered."
Looking down at her fallen grandfather, Urula murmured with a faint sigh.
Yes... it wouldn't have mattered either way.
Even if he was the murderer of her parents, he was still the grandfather who had raised her.
If even a single word of apology had escaped Loser’s lips, she might have found it in herself to forgive him.
But there had been no apology.
And so, any reason to show mercy had vanished along with it.
"It wouldn't have mattered."
Urula had always known. She had known her grandfather was the one who killed her parents.
Few people could successfully lie to her Spirit Eyes.
Yet, Urula—a girl of thin emotions—had felt no hatred.
Until she fell in love. Until she met Rest.
"An obstacle."
Yes... he was a hindrance.
A ghost obsessed with the past, a demon of vengeance—Loser Lavender would eventually become an obstacle to Rest.
Therefore, it would be a problem if he didn't disappear.
Using her Spirit Eyes, she had stolen the ring, and she had given the order to strike Loser down before she even handed that ring over to Rest.
"He's still alive... what would you like us to do?"
"It's fine."
She didn't care.
Loser was still breathing, but he was beyond recovery.
She had no interest in an old man who was no longer capable of doing anything.
"I'll work hard."
"Yes, My Lady. Let us work together to secure control of the Margrave Lavender House."
Before long, this house would belong to Rest.
Even if it didn't, Rest’s children would surely inherit it.
Urula had already decided that it would be so.
"Work hard, work hard."
She couldn't burden Rest with a pile of trash.
Before the day came for her to offer him this house, she had to cut out every last bit of rot.