Who Wants Me Dead, and Who Wants Me Alive

Silence enveloped the room like an oppressive, suffocating cloak.

Mirac stared at Carmen with piercing eyes, digging beyond her silence.

"So?" he asked, his voice calm but with the determination of someone demanding an immediate answer. "Did I guess correctly?"

Carmen diverted her gaze, taking a moment. A deep sigh escaped her lips, carrying with it the weight of a thousand thoughts.

"Yes, young Prince. You are right: the second reason I didn't warn anyone about Klark was precisely to find out who hired him."

Mirac's eyes widened slightly. A spark of understanding flashed in his gaze, sharp as lightning in a dark night.

"So…"

Carmen nodded, her face marked with a bitter expression of regret.

"I can't tell you how, but I am absolutely certain: it was someone here at the castle who hired Klark!"

Mirac's blood turned cold.

Although he had already suspected this truth, hearing it confirmed was like feeling a cold dagger plunge into his back.

"I see…" he whispered, his voice barely audible, as his gaze wandered to an indefinite point. "So, there's someone here who wants me dead, huh?"

His hands clenched into fists, his jaw tight. He turned his face to hide his frustration, but the tremor in his muscles betrayed the storm within him.

"Tsk, BUT WHY?! What have I done to deserve this?!" he hissed, his tone cracked with the weight of injustice. "I'm just… a child…"

Those words, so fragile, echoed in the room, fading into a silence that seemed even more suffocating.

The idea that someone wanted him dead left him numb, draining his strength, leaving him to drown in a sea of unanswered questions.

In the brief moment of silence that fell between them, Mirac's mind became crowded with countless thoughts and considerations.

Now that Klark was out of the picture, Mirac realized that whoever had hired him would surely continue their attempt to get rid of the young Prince, perhaps by hiring another assassin.

The thought made his heart beat faster for a moment, an irregular rhythm that reflected the growing anguish inside him.

'But, it's not entirely true!' he quickly corrected himself, his breathing calming and his heart returning to a more regular beat. 'Now everyone knows someone attempted to take my life by hiring an assassin. So, the royal guards won't be fooled so easily by anyone trying to infiltrate the castle. And whoever hired Klark knows this well, and I'm sure they won't use the same plan to kill me. In fact, honestly, they'd be a complete dumbass if they tried!'

With this thought partially comforting him, he forced himself to take a deep breath to shake off the anxiety that had overwhelmed him. He then made an effort to stay calm, because, upon reflection, there was no sense in getting agitated like this now.

Then, Mirac turned his steady gaze back to Carmen, his green eyes filled with renewed calm.

"So, Carmen… Who hired Klark?"

Hearing that question, a bitter expression crossed Carmen's face. She lowered her head, her shoulders hunched as if bearing an invisible burden.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, young Prince…" Carmen began, her voice veiled with a grave tone, "…but unfortunately, I have no idea."

Her eyes reflected a shadow of resignation that Mirac immediately noticed.

"None of my investigations led to the hoped-for results," she continued, her lips pressed into a stiff line. "I only know that Klark was part of a secret organization, and that, at the request of someone here at the castle, they assigned him the mission to eliminate you. However, I couldn't discover who is behind all of this. And for that, I deeply regret exposing you to constant danger for an entire year, without achieving anything concrete…"

The words crowded in her mouth, heavy with frustration and remorse, as she desperately tried to find a way to express the weight of her "failure."

"Therefore, I ask for your forgiveness once again, young Prince…" she finally concluded, her tone a little shaky, almost broken.

Another silence fell between them, even thicker than the previous ones, as if even the walls were absorbing the tension saturating the air.

"Again?! Why do you insist on apologizing so much?"

Mirac's question broke the suffocating atmosphere, ringing clearly in the room.

Confusion showed on his face, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. His green eyes, intense and questioning, rested on Carmen, waiting for an answer.

Feeling observed, the servant lifted her gaze, her eyes now fixed on him, full of complex emotions. It was a silent struggle to find the right words in a sea of feelings. But despite everything, she seemed hesitant to respond.

Noticing her difficulty, Mirac decided to take the initiative to break the silence:

"I've already told you that you have no reason to do that, Carmen…" he said, his voice soft but firm, like a verdict that admits no appeal.

Then, unexpectedly, he knelt before her, lowering himself to meet her eyes at the same level.

"In fact, I should be the one kneeling to you! After all, you're the one who saved my life! Although…" he lowered his gaze for a moment, offering a bittersweet smile, "Well, I can't deny that I feel a little sorry for having lost my arm…"

He cast a fleeting glance at the missing limb, like a bittersweet memory, but without being overwhelmed by emotion, he continued:

"But if I am still alive, here talking to you and able to breathe the same air you're breathing, it is only thanks to you!"

With a gentle gesture, he placed his hand on Carmen's shoulder, his touch as soft as a caress.

"You've always been by my side, and as far back as I can remember, you've helped me countless times. The fact that you saved me from Klark that day only confirmed what I already knew: that you really care about me! And for that, I am deeply grateful, you know? Not everyone is lucky enough to be loved so much…"

Mirac's previously tense expression softened, illuminated by a youthful sweetness.

That glow on his face seemed to emerge from deep within his heart, warming the atmosphere around them and dispelling the shadows of fear and uncertainty.

"Thank you, Carmen… for everything you've done for me!" he concluded fervently, his voice trembling with emotion.

Carmen looked at him, surprised, caught off guard by his words. For a moment, her composure wavered, and a faint smile brushed her lips.

In her dark, obsidian-like eyes, a flicker of emotion sparkled—quick and almost imperceptible—before dissolving back into her usual calm demeanor.

"Your words touch me deeply, young Prince," she replied gently, her voice exuding a reassuring calm.

"Really? Wow! I never thought that the cold and fearless Carmen could be moved like this…"

"Oh heavens, is that what you think of me?"

They exchanged a glance before breaking into a soft, restrained laugh—a moment of levity that seemed just what they both needed to feel better.

But then Mirac paused, observing Carmen's radiant face.

Though he had seen her laugh in the past, this time her smile was different: it seemed more genuine, more authentic, as if that simple act had granted her an entirely new identity.

Or rather, more than new, to Mirac's eyes, that… seemed to be the true Carmen!

A side of her personality that, until then, she had always hidden beneath her usual cold and composed demeanor.

"You know, Carmen…" Mirac began, still smiling. "You should smile more often."

The words slipped out as a sincere invitation, a desire to see that light in her eyes more often.

"Your laugh is, how can I say… contagious. It makes everything feel lighter."

Suddenly, however, Carmen's smile vanished.

The red-haired woman froze, completely taken aback.

For a moment, it seemed as if the young Prince had spoken forbidden words.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Mirac exclaimed, jumping up from his kneeling position. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable!"

Carmen shook her head slowly.

"No, please don't worry, young Prince," she reassured him, rising to her feet with calm composure. "You haven't said anything wrong."

A faint smile returned to curve her lips, subtle and almost shy.

"Quite the opposite, in fact…" Carmen concluded, her voice tinged with a shadow of melancholy.

Mirac tilted his head, puzzled by the hidden meaning in his bodyguard's words. Yet he received no further explanation: Carmen maintained her usual reserve, offering only a faint, fleeting smile.

After a moment of silence, Mirac snapped out of his thoughts.

"Oh, right! I almost forgot!" he exclaimed, abruptly changing the subject. "There's something else I wanted to ask you, Carmen…"

She nodded, her face serious and attentive.

"I'll be happy to help you, young Prince…"

Without wasting any more time, Mirac began to explain:

"When Klark attacked me from behind, I barely managed to avoid being cut in half, as sadly happened to poor Mr. Foss…"

Even though the memory of his corpse was still vivid in his mind, Mirac didn't let the nightmare overwhelm him and continued explaining:

"Right after narrowly dodging his attack, I fled into the woods, taking advantage of the dense vegetation to hide behind some bushes where he couldn't see me. Once I was safe, I treated my arm with the small piece of magical gauze that, luckily, had fallen out of Mr. Foss's pocket—probably when Klark took him out. Fortunately, I had picked it up almost instinctively before running into the forest, as if a part of me, unconsciously, knew I would need it…"

In truth, things hadn't happened exactly that way.

First of all, it had been Mr. Foss who wrapped a generous piece of magical gauze around Mirac's finger after the boy had injured himself trying to pluck a rose. So, the magical gauze hadn't just "fallen out of his pocket."

Moreover, if Mirac told the full truth, he'd also have to—out of narrative consistency—admit that he had used his secret ability, "Multiplicative Touch", to transform that small piece of gauze into enough to bandage his entire amputated arm.

Revealing that would have been catastrophic for Mirac because it would mean exposing his Anomalous Sintony with Math and, consequently, his true nature as a Chaotic!

With this in mind, Mirac had come up with that excuse—the same one he had already given to the investigators during the interrogation—to explain where he had found the magical gauze he used to treat his arm.

Thankfully, no one had raised any doubts about it.

This was because the discovery of the roll of magical gauze in the pocket of Mr. Foss's corpse perfectly matched the version of events provided by the young Prince.

"After bandaging my amputated arm, something unbelievable happened… and that's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about!" Mirac continued, his tone tense. "When Klark was approaching the bush I was hiding behind, two swords suddenly appeared next to me!"

Once again, to protect his secret of being a Chaotic, Mirac had deliberately omitted the truth. In fact, only one sword had appeared next to him, and then, thanks to his secret ability, "Multiplicative Touch", he had created a second one.

"To the investigators who came today, I simply told them I had found them near the garden shed," Mirac confessed. "But in reality, even though I didn't clearly see anyone approaching me, I'm pretty sure it was someone who left those two swords near me!"

He paused, staring at Carmen with a serious look.

"However, I obviously didn't think for a moment that it was you. After all, it wouldn't have made sense for you to give me those two swords and then leave, only to return shortly after and save me from Klark."

With her eyebrows slightly furrowed, Carmen didn't let a single word of what the young Prince had said slip by.

"I see…" she said, as she pondered the matter. "In fact, even I, when I picked up those swords from the ground—to avoid facing him bare-handed—was quite puzzled to find them there, abandoned in the middle of the forest. However, noticing they were near where you and Klark had been, I guessed that you had used them to face him. So, I had planned to ask you, sooner or later, where you had found them. But it seems that, like me, you don't really know their origin. Or rather, who gave them to you…"

Unfortunately for Mirac, Carmen didn't have the answer to the mystery of the sword that had miraculously appeared for him.

However, one thing was certain to him, so much so that as he reflected, Mirac voiced his thought aloud, as if it were an undeniable truth:

"Someone wants me dead, while someone else, besides you, seems determined to secretly save me… But who could these people be?!"

Mirac fell silent, processing all the information he had gathered so far. His gaze wandered between Carmen and the empty space, as if he were trying to piece together the fragments of an unfinished puzzle.

With no way to resolve this great mystery at that moment, Carmen simply remained silent, watching Mirac lost in his thoughts.

By pure chance, the servant's gaze fell on the clock resting on Mirac's desk, and her face lit up with surprise.

"Oh, damn! It's getting late! Maybe it's better if I return to my duties," she exclaimed, bowing with her hands together in front of her and then taking a half step back, ready to leave the room.

Mirac jumped, snapping out of his reflective state as if those words had brought him back to reality.

"Ah, yes of course... No problem," he murmured, his mind still wrapped in his thoughts.

Meanwhile, the woman with red hair made her way toward the exit, but not without the young Prince noticing her graceful and calculated movements.

Indeed, now that he was paying attention, her step was confident and disciplined, clearly reflecting a life shaped by discipline and rigor since childhood, just as she had told him.

But apart from Mirac, who now knew Carmen's true identity, no one else would have noticed this detail about her.

"Oh, young Prince… I almost forgot to tell you something important as well!" Carmen suddenly exclaimed, stopping at the door and turning toward Mirac.

In the short distance she had walked toward the door, the servant's sweet expression had vanished, replaced by a more serious one.

"I kindly ask that you don't speak of me to anyone."

Mirac remained silent, nodding with an understanding expression.

Before he could open his mouth to respond, however, Carmen added with a determined tone:

"And rest assured, young Prince. I solemnly promise that no one will even lay a finger on you!"

The wind coming through the window made her long red hair dance, emphasizing the strength of her words.

"I'll do everything in my power to find out who hired Klark."

Mirac stared at her for a moment, the silence between them heavy with complicity.

Then, a faint smile curved his lips, as if they were sharing a secret bigger than themselves.

"I don't doubt it, Carmen…" Mirac replied, nodding.

With one last reassuring glance, the servant crossed the threshold and gently closed the door behind her.

As soon as Carmen left, Mirac's expression changed radically.

The smile vanished, and the hand that had just waved goodbye to his "secret bodyguard" slowly lowered.

A rigid expression settled on his face, not born from anger but from a scrupulous and impenetrable intensity.

His eyes, slightly narrowed, were shadowed by furrowed brows that betrayed a mix of turbulent thoughts and unyielding resolve.

"I don't doubt it…" he murmured at last, in a low, meaningful tone.

His hazel eyes, now more intense, reflected a new awareness, an idea just emerging or perhaps a suspicion that was rooting itself ever more deeply.

After a few moments, the intense expression faded, and Mirac let out a long stretch, arching his back as if to shake off the weight of his thoughts.

"Ahhh…" he sighed deeply.

Left alone in his room, Mirac wasted no time and rushed to his bed to rest.

But his mind refused to give him peace.

Curiosity devoured him from within, as too many questions remained unanswered.

Who were the two parties trying, respectively, to eliminate and protect him secretly? And most importantly, why?

There was another puzzle tormenting him, one he had skillfully avoided showing too much interest in:

'Who could possibly be the figure, unknown even to the King, who entrusted Carmen with secretly protecting me? And for what reason? Furthermore, how did Carmen know in advance that Professor Shirkenn was actually Klark? Did someone warn her before he arrived? Could it have been a traitor within Klark's organization? Or maybe Carmen herself belongs to a secret organization, and one of its members infiltrated Klark's organization as a spy? And if that's not the case, there's no doubt that Carmen is at least supported and aided by someone outside these walls.'

Mirac sighed deeply, the weight of his thoughts pressing on his chest.

'Well, in any case, today it didn't seem like she lied to me. Of course, she didn't tell me the whole truth, but not a single lie either. That's because she wants to protect the most important information, especially about herself, hiding it even from me, the only one here who knows her "true identity." And now that I think about it, she didn't even reveal the name of Klark's organization, nor the one he thought Carmen belonged to. Maybe because I'm still a "child"?'

He ran a hand over his face, almost to chase away the weariness, before staring at the ceiling with a thoughtful gaze.

'In any case, if I play my cards right, when I grow up, Carmen could become an incredibly valuable source of useful information. I could learn a lot about various secret organizations, as well as gain knowledge that can't be found in books. But not only that! Until I'm strong enough to defend myself, I'd also have someone who's constantly protecting me. And with Carmen's help, maybe I'll even figure out who hired Klark and who gave me the sword to face him…'

Mirac paused for a moment, deep in thought.

'Damn it! In that case, it would be easier and faster to warn my father and the royal guards, telling them that whoever hired Klark is someone residing in the castle. But I can't do that! If I did, they might ask me where I got this information from, and Carmen's identity could be compromised! It's better to act cautiously, so I don't ruin everything.'

He sighed, his mind in turmoil.

'So, until I fully understand her intentions, figure out who she is and who sent her, and especially whether or not she could pose a threat to my family, it's better not to tell anyone about Carmen. And then…'

A cold shiver ran down his spine.

'I don't know why—maybe it's just my instinct or a bad feeling—but I feel that if Carmen were discovered, it would be the end for me as well…'