The smell of burnt wood still lingered in the north wing of the Valton estate. A single fragment pulled from the ashes last night. The characters "灰環" and a symbol of scales within a circle. Haikan—Valton Alicia had seen that name for the first time last night. She'd instinctively sensed it was some kind of secret merchant guild moving funds in the darkness, but the details remained unclear. That such a small scrap of paper could carry such weight. It was all that remained in her hands—a substitute for thirty years of ledgers turned to ash. From the window of the Valton estate, the Torene market square spread out below. Morning light reflected off the Minol River's surface, casting golden stripes across the stone pavement. It wasn't a market day, but the permanent stalls had opened their awnings, and old Gram the vegetable merchant was arranging his goods. It should have been an ordinary morning. But Valton Alicia's gaze was fixed on white papers plastered against the buildings around the square. Not just one. The outer wall of the inn "Wheat Ear's Light." Beside the door of the tavern "Amber Cup." On the pillar opposite the arithmetic office. At least six—no, seven—just in the visible range. *What are those?* Valton Alicia stepped into the corridor and hurried to the square, forgetting even to put on her coat. The moment her feet touched the stone pavement, her eyes met old Gram's. The old man didn't release the bundle of carrots from his hands, his face carefully blank. Or rather, he was trying to make it blank. She approached the papers on the wall. Meticulous handwriting. Orderly prose. One reading was enough for the contents to burn into her mind. *—It is Alicia Valton, the legitimate daughter of the Valton family, who is the true culprit behind the ledger falsification. The steward Galbert merely executed the fraud under the young lady's orders, an innocent retainer—* At the end of the text, a round seal. The symbol of scales. The same mark she'd seen in the ashes last night. Valton Alicia stared at the paper, unable to move for a long moment. Hans the cloth merchant passed by without meeting her eyes, his pace quickening. Beyond the pavement, a child pointed at something and was pulled along by his mother. Old Gram's stall had no customers yet this morning. *I won't apologize. Even if I did, nothing would change.* But she felt something besides cold anger sinking into her chest. A weight very much like what she'd felt in her previous life. When she'd reported the discrepancy in the numbers, when her boss had said, "You've made things difficult for me"—that sensation. --- Not long after returning to the estate, Nadia Rothfeld arrived. The thirty-three-year-old arithmetic master wore her black hair short and thin-rimmed glasses, just as when Valton Alicia had first met her. But today her complexion was less white than blue. The verbose chattiness that emerged whenever she discussed ledgers was nowhere to be found today. In the reception room, Nadia held a single letter in her hands. An immediate suspension notice for arithmetic master registration, stamped with the official seal of the Royal Arithmetic Academy—Valton Alicia understood at a glance what it meant. Without arithmetic master registration, one couldn't manage private ledger work. The office was finished. Income gone. "It arrived last night," Nadia said. Nadia's voice didn't tremble. It was simply quiet. A hollow silence utterly unlike the verbosity she showed when discussing ledgers. "...I'm sorry," Valton Alicia said. Those were the only words that came out. She knew there was more she should say, more she could say—but before Nadia's blue face, the words wouldn't come. The shape of it overlapped with that night in her previous life when she could only say "I'm sorry." "...I have a life to maintain, after all," Nadia said. Nadia folded the letter carefully. Her gesture of standing was too precise. The movement of someone who had locked away their emotions—unnecessarily ordered, controlled. The door closed. Valton Alicia remained sitting in the reception room chair for a while. --- Past midday, a voice came from Leon's office. Valton Alicia stopped as she passed the door. A low man's voice. Not Leon's. An older, heavier voice. "As long as the young lady leads the investigation, I will cast my opposition vote on the Valton family's restoration petition," Baron Folke said. It came through clearly. Restoration petition—the system by which fallen nobility could report improvements in territory management to the crown and recover suspended rights. If tax revenue exceeded the standard for three consecutive years, the petition could be filed. It was the Valton family's ultimate goal. The tax reduction refunds for the farmers couldn't proceed without it. "...Baron Folke," Leon replied. Leon's voice returned low, but calm. "I've known Galbert a long time. I cannot stand silent and watch an innocent man be slandered," Baron Folke said. A nobleman in his sixties on the council—Valton Alicia imagined only his outline through the door. Old acquaintance of Galbert. A man with influence over the restoration petition deliberations. And now, a man dangling that influence as pressure against the Valton family. Silence stretched out. Valton Alicia remained standing in the corridor, motionless. At last Leon answered. "...Understood," he said. That was all. --- Some time after Baron Folke left, there came a knock on Valton Alicia's private chamber door. Before she could say "come in," the hesitant knock repeated twice. Valton Alicia stood and opened the door. Leon stood there. His golden hair was slightly disheveled today. His pale blue eyes looked at her, then his gaze dropped for just a moment. The face of someone choosing his words. "...Can we talk for a moment?" he asked. Valton Alicia stepped back to make space. Leon didn't enter. He remained in the doorway, silent for a time. Then, in a low voice, he said: "I need you to wait in your room for now." His voice was quiet. Pained, but without pretense. "It's not that I don't believe you. It's just that right now—" "I understand," Valton Alicia said, cutting him off. She hadn't meant to interrupt, but the words came out. Leon looked up. Valton Alicia didn't meet his eyes. She looked at the wall beside the door, then repeated, "I understand," a second time. This time her voice was slightly hoarse. The door closed. Strength drained from Valton Alicia's legs. She collapsed more than sat onto the edge of the bed. --- The sun set. Night came. Even with the candle flame extinguished, she couldn't sleep. When she closed her eyes, the white light of fluorescent bulbs floated before her. The ceiling of the accounting office in her previous life. Mountains of accumulated documents. The back of a coworker who'd turned away saying, "Another late night?" The sound of the keyboard she'd struck alone through the night during settlement period. *At least the numbers were never wrong.* That had been her only pride. No matter how isolated, no matter how unseen, the numbers were honest. She'd believed in that. Continued until she collapsed. It's happening again. A voice spoke in her chest. Again alone bearing everything, again trusted by no one, again— Valton Alicia hugged her knees. She wept silently. While weeping, she raged at her own tears. While raging, she couldn't stop. --- Deep in the night, candlelight flickered in the corridor. Faint footsteps outside the door. A moment of hesitation. The door opened very slowly. It was Leon. Holding the candle, he froze in the doorway. Red, tear-swollen eyes. Black hair clinging to her cheeks. Before Valton Alicia could wipe her face with her sleeve, Leon had already seen. Leon lost his words. Clearly, he regretted coming. "...I thought I'd check on you," he said. His voice was awkward. No further words came. Valton Alicia understood. Behind that single sentence, hours of hesitation were transparent. "I'm showing you something unsightly—" She tried for a wry smile, but her voice cracked. Rather than becoming a laugh, she felt tears threatening again. *This is the worst*, she thought. Leon said nothing. He simply entered the room. He placed the candle on the table and sat on the edge of the bed, beside Valton Alicia. Close enough that their elbows might touch. Her shoulders in the nightgown floated white in the moonlight. Leon, unable to look directly at her red eyes, let his gaze fall to the floor. For a while, neither spoke. Wind sounded in the distance. Somewhere in Torene, the town creaked. The candle flame wavered slightly. Leon's hand moved slowly. It rested gently on the back of Valton Alicia's hand. It was cold. Cold to the fingertips—which was why the warmth of his palm seeped in so distinctly. Slowly. Deeply. A quiet temperature that reached into the capillaries themselves. Valton Alicia's breath caught. Her fingertips trembled slightly. "I don't want to stop either," Leon said. His voice was low. He said only that, and kept his hand where it lay. Valton Alicia said nothing. Couldn't say anything. The depths of her eyes, just dried of tears, grew hot again. For a different reason this time. She felt her pulse quicken. The heat of his overlaid hand seeped from her fingertips through her arm, into her chest. She looked at Leon's profile. He still gazed at the floor. The tip of his ear, caught in the candlelight, was faintly red. *Ah, this person too—* She didn't put it into words. Didn't need to. The weight of their overlaid hands spoke more honestly than words. The two remained there in silence for a time. --- After Leon left, only the candlelight remained in the room. Valton Alicia looked at her palm for a while. She could still feel the warmth of Leon's hand there. Then she placed the cloth bag from her bedside on her lap. The bag containing the remains of ledgers she'd gathered from the ashes. One by one, she examined them. Papers turned to ash. Fragments where the characters were unreadable. Carefully unfolding edges that threatened to crumble, Valton Alicia continued her quiet work. One sheet remained at the bottom of the bag. More than half was charred. But at the edge, thick brushstrokes remained. She brought the candle closer. *—Haikan Guild, ledger master approved, transfer amount eight hundred silver coins, Valton territory distribution ratio forty percent—* Haikan Guild—the seal from this morning's papers, the characters from last night's fragment. Its true nature took shape here. A shadow distribution network that never appeared in official ledgers, a secret organization managing and distributing illicit funds by territory. And "ledger master" appeared to be the title for the person responsible for fund management in each region of that organization. Valton Alicia stared at those characters for three seconds. The memory of accounting from her previous life stirred quietly to life. Forty percent distribution. Galbert's total embezzlement, by ledger calculation, was approximately twelve thousand silver coins. If the distribution ratio was forty percent, then the eight hundred coins transferred was only from a single point in time. Calculating the whole, Galbert's personal share came to roughly seven thousand two hundred silver coins. The remaining four thousand eight hundred flowed to the Haikan Guild's ledger master. *Not alone. Organized from the start. Divided from the beginning.* Galbert was small fish. Find the ledger master, and there were bigger fish. With steady hands, Valton Alicia carefully wrapped the fragment in cloth. There was Baron Folke's pressure. There was the order to wait in her room. Moving openly would increase pressure on the Valton family further. She couldn't yet see if she could obtain permission for direct questioning of Galbert. And yet. The warmth of Leon's palm still lingered on her fingertip