Little Pink Starfish

As the nobles erupted in an uproar, they sprang to their feet, shouting angrily.

“Asher Prince, you say!?”
“Why is a royal seal on that letter!?”
“Are they trying to shift blame onto us nobles!?”
“What is the meaning of this!?”

Thump, thump—Asher’s heartbeat roared in his ears. He stared intently at the letter bearing a seal he didn’t recognize.

Why… is my seal on that…?

Then, Asher noticed the gaze of Duchess Veil beside him—eyes wide, staring at him.

Her look was filled with suspicion, and Asher began to panic. But before he could explain himself, the Duchess stood abruptly and pointed at him.

Just as she opened her mouth to speak—

“We’ve already begun our own investigation.”

Samuel’s voice rang out, and from behind him appeared Hugo, holding several similar letters, which he laid out before everyone.

“…Each one bears Asher’s seal.”

Unfazed, Samuel didn’t so much as blink. The nobles were stunned.

Even Count Dazmond, who had seemed confident moments ago, was visibly unsettled. Perhaps he hadn’t imagined that Samuel already knew, or perhaps he was shocked at how calmly Samuel took it all in.

“Beastman trafficking is punishable by death… Even royalty isn’t exempt. Your Highness, Prince Asher…”

“Did you not hear what I said earlier?”

Samuel smiled—but the piercing glint in his golden eyes made Count Dazmond flinch.

“W-what are you saying!? Prince Asher’s seal… Y-Your Majesty—this is—!”

He turned to look at King Augustine.

Bang!

Samuel slammed his fist on the table, the loud sound making many nobles flinch.

“…That criminal eluded us for years. We never caught even a tail. They were clever… cunning.”

“That’s why… this evidence, here—”

“Yes. After all this time, we finally have traces of the criminal… and they all bear Asher’s seal.”

“Then that’s conclusive!”

Count Dazmond glared at Samuel.

“Prince Asher is the criminal!”

Asher trembled.

His heart pounded faster than ever.

It can’t be… No way…

The blood drained from his face, and he felt faint.

His chest hurt.

His vision went black.

It wasn’t me… it wasn’t…

Who… would do this? Could this be the real reason they didn’t bring me here?

Clutching his fan tightly, Asher stood.

He turned his gaze to the royal seats—Samuel, Hugo, King Augustine, and Queen Angela.

But none of them showed surprise. Their faces were calm.

His lips trembled as his anxiety swelled, until suddenly—an unexpected laugh pierced through the tension.

“Ha! Hahaha! You’ve gone senile, Count Dazmond.”

“…Enough, Hugo. That’s disrespectful.”

Though Samuel scolded him, his smirk mirrored Hugo’s, both tinged with irony.

Asher, pale moments ago, felt some of his composure return as he saw his brothers’ expressions.

But Count Dazmond, insulted, turned red and shouted at the princes.

“What’s so funny!? Prince Asher was cleared of past crimes because he was manipulated—but this time, beastman trafficking? That excuse won’t work! Are you trying to pin this on us nobles and cover it up!?”

“Wait now, Count Dazmond. Listen. Though I didn’t expect you to be the one to bring out the seal.”

Samuel smiled thinly. The once composed Count Dazmond now glared, face twisted with fury.

“After all, the one closest to Clark was you. …I had suspected you might’ve been Clark’s collaborator. But I see now—that’s not the case. You may be old, but you’re not a fool. If you had helped Clark, you’d never stage such a sloppy setup. You’d also never draw suspicion to yourself so blatantly.”

“Clark’s… collaborator!? What do you mean!?”

Both Dazmond and Asher echoed the question in disbelief.

…That man had a collaborator?

A creeping darkness spread through Asher’s chest. Even in death, that man held power over his heart. He could almost hear that eerie, unforgettable laugh.

“…Randalim. A plant Clark studied and cultivated over many years. But maintaining it cost an enormous amount. Where do you think the money came from?”

Dazmond frowned at the question. After a brief hesitation, he gasped and muttered—

“You don’t mean… the money came from selling beastmen…?”

“Yes. But Clark was also deeply involved with research and acting as Asher’s tutor. Even he couldn’t do it all alone. He gave orders to his collaborator, who abducted and sold beastmen. …But now that Clark is dead, the cowardly collaborator, fearing exposure, tried to pin all the blame on Asher. After years of no leads, for such convenient evidence to suddenly appear? It’s suspicious, isn’t it?”

“B-but… a prince’s seal… That’s too much. How would they even steal it!? How did they take it from Prince Asher!?”

“That would require cooperation from Asher himself—or from another royal.”

Samuel rose, casting a glance over his shoulder.

His eyes landed on Queen Angela.

Slowly, she closed her eyes and nodded.

Samuel returned his gaze to the nobles.

“It was never revealed to the House of Lords… but Queen Angela, like Asher, had been administered Randalim.”

The hall stirred. All eyes turned to the Queen.

“Unlike Asher, Queen Angela’s mind was not fully controlled. However, she experienced confusion, and lost memories of certain periods. We believe that during one of those times, the seal was taken. …But that raises a mystery. Think about it.”

Click, click—Samuel’s boots echoed as he descended the stairs to the hall’s centre, casting his gaze across the nobles.

“Clark was always with Asher. So who administered Randalim to Queen Angela? It must have been the collaborator. But how did that person get her to ingest it?”

No one could answer. And for good reason.

Tampering with royal food or drink is nearly impossible. It was the same for Asher—except in his case, Clark was his most trusted retainer.

──── So then…

Someone like Clark… but close to Mother…?

As nobles began whispering among themselves, exchanging nervous glances, Queen Angela slowly stood.

“…All ingredients used in the royal kitchens are checked by tasters. But there was one exception—where tasters weren’t needed. …Isn’t that right?”

She spoke gently, but her eyes stared straight at a certain person.

“We often hosted tea parties, didn’t we? You and I. We each brought sweets to share with the others. At those times… there was no need for tasters. Because… I trusted you more than anyone. Ever since I came here from another kingdom… I always thought of you as a dear friend.”

One by one, the nobles’ gazes turned—not to Asher, but to the person seated beside him.

“Yes… That’s right. It was you who told me Asher was acting strangely, wasn’t it? You noticed his odd behaviour before anyone else.”

All eyes locked onto that figure beside Asher. Slowly, Asher turned his face to follow their line of sight.

The person beside him—still standing, still hiding her mouth behind a fan.

“…Isn’t that right, Maderina?”

At Queen Angela’s words, Duchess Veil’s—no, Maderina’s—eyes narrowed ever so slightly.