12 O’Clock Marionette

Chapter 2

"The account... doesn’t exist?"

"It does not exist?"

"Yes. Even if it had existed, there’s no way it would still be active."

"No way?"

"According to what you say, the last time the bank was used was over a few hundred years ago. With no one to manage it, of course, it would be gone."

"Gone, of course?"

"…Customer. I’m sorry, but please check again and come back later."

The bank clerk practically threw me out, looking as if he had just been cursed with bad luck.

I stumbled out, dumbfounded.

I wanted to throw a fit and demand an explanation, but I knew nothing, so I couldn't even do that.

Sinking into the carriage seat, I mumbled in a daze.

"My money…"

Not even a single silver coin?

I was certain the wealth of the temple was stored in Coltish Bank.

Back then, it was said to be enough to buy several castles.

Just in case I ever had to access it, I had memorized the account number and password until my tongue nearly wore out—yet it’s gone?

I endured the pain of possessing other bodies, telling myself that one day, I’d enjoy being rich. And now they’re saying it’s gone?

"My money!"

The senior priests deceived me!

I buried my face in my knees and cried.

Even the rattling of the carriage felt like a personal insult.

To hell with all of them.

No, they’re already dead—let them move into hell instead.

***

It’s hopeless.

Climbing up to my empty bedroom, I felt just as empty inside.

Three days left—no, after wasting a whole day at the bank, only two now.

"I should ask for a recommendation letter to become a maid or a lady’s attendant."

That was my only option.

Even if my adoptive parents had a poor relationship with the Count, surely they’d do at least that much for me.

A vision of the villain’s grand mansion flickered before my eyes.

"The Count should have enough influence for that, right?"

Come to think of it, I still didn’t know which noble family this house belonged to.

Even Betty only called him "the Count," so how was I supposed to know?

Still, judging by the size of the house, it must be a fairly prominent family.

Before begging for a recommendation letter, I should at least find out what the people in this house like.

I reached for the bell but stopped.

Whoever answered would be random anyway, and I couldn't just keep ringing until Betty showed up.

Might as well find her myself and get a feel for the mansion’s atmosphere.

With that in mind, I opened the door—

"Wow."

My eyes met those of a silver-haired young man.

Tall and elegant, his sharp gaze carried a refreshing air.

I’d long since developed high standards, but his looks actually met my rigorous aesthetic sense.

"Hey."

Even his voice was clear.

I almost responded without thinking but hesitated.

Should I speak formally or casually?

Fifty-fifty chance.

"Yeah, go ahead."

"Father wants you to come down for a meal. He said we should have one last dinner together."

"Ah, but I still have a couple of days left?"

"He’s busy. If not today, he won’t have time."

Phew, for a second, I thought I was being thrown out immediately.

It seemed Betty hadn’t given me the wrong date after all.

Sighing in relief, I trailed after him.

Only then did I realize how hungry I was.

Now that I thought about it, since becoming Siora, I hadn’t eaten a single meal.

Imagining the dishes waiting on the table, I followed him into the dining room.

And then—

"Sit."

A cold atmosphere struck me like a slap.

Were they really inviting me to dinner?

The Count’s family didn’t even look at me.

No, they didn’t even seem interested in each other.

Honestly, if not for the recommendation letter, I wouldn’t care about these people either.

So, instead, I focused on eating.

Only after my stomach was somewhat full did I have the energy to take in my surroundings.

Three people, including me, made four.

An older man and a pair of siblings.

The middle-aged man was probably the Count.

The girl sitting across from me looked just like the boy who had come to fetch me.

The entire family was strikingly attractive.

And yet, something felt... off.

"What is this?"

A strange energy radiated from all of them.

It was similar to divine power but felt more natural.

Could this be a spirit’s presence? The kind I’d only read about in records?

"We can’t delay this decision any longer."

The Count finally broke the silence.

He was staring at the table, making it unclear who he was speaking to.

Wait, was he talking about me? Was he planning to kick me out at midnight?

Pebula, have mercy!

"Minuet."

Not me.

But for a completely different reason, I dropped my fork.

Clatter.

My blunder made the Count pause briefly.

"As you know, we have no choice but to accept this marriage proposal."

Clink.

This time, I dropped my spoon.

The Count shot me an annoyed look, seemingly irritated by the second slip-up.

"You will marry the White Desert Duke."

Crash.

A wine glass shattered—but this time, it wasn’t my fault.

The Count glared at me before hastily turning his gaze to the true culprit.

Standing at the end of his line of sight was the young man who had fetched me.

"This is absurd!"

At this point, I needed to know his name for easier narration.

"What are you doing, Gavotte?"

Thank you for the introduction.

And just like that, I was struck with confirmation.

The silver-haired girl was Minuet. Her brother was Gavotte.

They carried a spirit-like presence, and a marriage proposal had arrived from the White Desert.

Let’s recall the first line of Fate.

"That day was the wedding day of Minuet Bonetti."

For reference, the villain’s family, which I had never bothered to mention, was the White Desert Ducal House.

That’s right.

I was currently in the protagonist’s mansion.

No wonder things felt disconnected—it wasn’t that I had lost my place in the story, but that the perspective had shifted from the villain to the protagonist.

My apologies for doubting you, Pebula.

While I was gathering my thoughts, the family argument continued.

"Father, you can’t seriously be considering this! You know exactly what kind of person the Duke is!"

"Which is precisely why we can’t refuse! Do you have any idea what kind of retaliation would follow?"

"And accepting will change anything?"

"At the very least, it won’t lead to Bonetti’s complete ruin. This proposal has the full backing of their elder council."

"I’d rather see Bonetti collapse than be handed over entirely."

"You insolent—!"

"Then perhaps you should have lived with integrity! At the very least, you should’ve avoided giving them leverage! Why must Bonetti become the Duke’s plaything because of your corruption?"

"Enough. That’s enough, Gavotte."

"How can I keep quiet right now? Minuet! This isn’t just anyone’s marriage—it’s yours! The young countess’s marriage!"

"Then do you have a better solution? What, do you have another Bonetti willing to take my place?"

"Minuet!"

Summarizing this noisy mess:

The White Desert Duke had sent a marriage proposal to Minuet, and if they refused, they would face retaliation.

Judging by the mood, even if they accepted, it wouldn’t end well for them.

They seemed to have forgotten that an outsider—me—was present in the room.

I raised my hand, and all eyes turned to me.

"I have a good idea."

Everyone’s faces twisted in distaste.

Before they could silence me, I hurriedly got to the point.

"What if I take that marriage instead?"

A perfect solution to this crisis!

But the Count didn’t immediately recognize the value of my proposal.

"Know your place."

"Well, I wasn’t eavesdropping or anything. I was invited to dinner—doesn’t that mean I do belong here?"

"That was simply a courtesy… Never mind. If we try to pass off a branch family member in the marriage, the consequences will be severe."

"Then just adopt me."

"What?"

"Uncle—no, Father!"

As long as I had the Bonetti name, wouldn’t that be enough?

I sprang to my feet and walked up to the head of the table.

Then, dropping to my knees, I solemnly declared—

"I have longed to call you Father!"

***

The Count didn’t immediately accept.

Still, the fact that he said he would consider it was already a victory of sorts.

What bothered me was the absence of the Countess.

Apparently, she was in the territory, recovering from an illness.

In Fate, she was barely mentioned, so I had no idea what kind of person she was.

Should I go to the Count’s territory, heal her, and win her over?

As I rolled around on the bed, devising my next move, Minuet entered the room.

I sluggishly sat up to face her.

"What’s your angle?"

Her cold, sharp voice carried suspicion.

I stared at her.

Silver hair cascading like a waterfall, delicate and ethereal features—

I had grown sick of seeing the villain’s side, but this was my first time facing the protagonist.

It was strange.

The events of Fate no longer felt distant—they were closing in fast.

This wasn’t the time to be lost in thought, though.

"Minuet."

It should be fine to call her that.

I glanced at her reaction.

"You’ve been holed up in your room all this time. Now, all of a sudden, you’re doing this? Let’s hear it—why?"

"Simple. You don’t want to get married, and I have nowhere to go."

"So you’re choosing hell?"

A bit dramatic, aren’t we?

Hell is where my senior priests are residing.

The White Desert Duke’s mansion, on the other hand, is… tolerable.

Of course, I couldn’t say that outright, so I settled for something more reasonable.

"Where would a penniless, connectionless noble be not in hell?"

"Compared to the White Desert, anywhere would be better."

"Oh, come on, it’s not that—"

"You bother me."

Minuet abruptly cut me off.

I blinked at the sudden shift in conversation.

"Ever since the funeral, you’ve been like this. You didn’t speak, didn’t show any emotion. I thought you were some kind of doll."

"Hmm."

"So I assigned someone to watch you."

"...Who?"

"Betty. She’s mine. You said you lost your memories?"

Oh.

So I’d already been betrayed.

She had acted so innocent and confided in me so easily—I had trusted her, if only a little.

And this is what I get.

Humans, I swear.

"Earlier, you went to Coltish Bank. Don’t worry—I couldn’t hear what was said inside, thanks to their security."

That part didn’t even surprise me.

Of course they would spy on me if they had the means.

After all, everyone I used to gather information… belonged to Bonetti.

"I also looked into your background. Nothing came up."

"Oh dear."

"So let me ask again, Siora. What are you really after?"

What am I after?

If I started listing everything, I’d never stop.

But in the end, the answer was simple.

"World peace?"

"Hah."

"Don’t overthink it. It’s exactly as I said. I lost my memories, I went to the bank just in case, and I found out I was broke."

I took a step forward, invading Minuet’s personal space.

Placing my hands on her shoulders, I whispered—

"And you need me."

She couldn’t deny it.

Even while pretending to hold Gavotte back, her distaste for the marriage had been crystal clear.

In Fate, Minuet had felt the same way.

So if I took the protagonist’s place—if I became the observer in this story—wouldn’t it benefit both of us?

I smirked.

"Tell me I’m wrong."