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***

Just as Isabella had said, Cárcel was already back at the residence. He was waiting for them outside alongside the household staff to greet his mother and wife. Isabella burst into chuckles at the sight. "I told you, didn't I?" she said jovially, but as she still wasn't doing very well, Cárcel quickly came to her aid and steadied her, wrapping his strong arm around her frail body, as they headed inside. Inés wisely stayed out of their way, so she hardly had time to greet her husband before they were separated once again.

Isabella insisted that they ought to spend the limited time they had left together, but a mother sending her son off to war had to be eager to spend more time with him as well. Inés knew full well that Isabella had kept her distance from her son who would soon leave Ortega just for Inés's sake. Even when Inés pushed him to spend time with his mother, Isabella would often send him back.

But today, Isabella did not decline a bit of time spent in private with her son, since she had something to give to him and would be able to say her farewell properly. She turned to look at Inés as they walked away and nodded in thanks. Inés handed the blessed ceremonial baton to Isabella's lady-in-waiting and watched her husband and mother-in-law disappear into the building.

"Alfonso."

"Yes, my lady."

"Have His Grace's valet meet me in my study."

"Yes, my lady," said Alfonso, not even thinking to question her as he quickly left to fulfill her order.

Inés climbed up the stairs, having much to think about now that she was left alone for a moment.

Her information on Anastasio was severely limited. He had lived as a Protestant who had been martyred in San Talaria and had once been a Catholic priest at a small chapel in Viedma. A Protestant pastor in Perez who had been dragged to Del Fuego. But now, he was once again a priest, dressed in the black robes of the Catholic faith, and being called father.

That an apostle of God would at times be a Protestant who denied the divinity of the apostles and at times a priest of the Catholic faith which persecuted Protestants... Perhaps that was the balance of the world that the Holy Scriptures spoke of. If neither faith was the only answer and their God did not care by which method or rules His followers came to seek him, as long as they had faith and revered Him, then both the Catholic and the Protestant Church had wasted over a hundred and fifty years on a meaningless conflict.

Perhaps God enjoyed watching His servants in conflict. If that was true, it was a dark, twisted pleasure. Perhaps He wanted them to cling to Him more desperately, beyond a faith that was taken for granted. The lives of humans had to seem as insignificant as those of ants crawling underfoot to an omnipotent God. The desperate lives of the ants had to be as unimportant to Him as to humans who simply stepped over them and paid them no mind at all.

Once Inés entered her study, her nervous gaze rested on the Holy Book on top of her desk. It was the apostle's will for her to suddenly remember a time she knew nothing about. She was certain that he had purposefully made her recall that first ever life she had lived on Mercedes Street. But she couldn't understand why. 

She suddenly remembered Oscar's voice cracking into a whimper as he had said, "Please, Inés... please tell me that I didn't kill him..."

A chill ran down her spine. He had spoken as though killing the duke was an act of fate. Though she understood his strangely indifferent expression, she could not see why he had been in such denial and anguish as he had confessed what he had done to her, gripped so completely by his guilt. Perhaps he had thought he had made a mistake. He had claimed that the man he had killed had been nothing but Juan Escalante's "empty shell."

At the time, the duke's death had been sudden and inexplicable, but there had been some investigation afterward. Empress Cayetana had suspected that he had been poisoned, and she had forcibly brought in a few physicians from abroad to look into it. The empress had even insisted on performing an autopsy, which was taboo in Ortega. But once they had opened up the body, they had failed to find any evidence to confirm the empress's suspicions. The only answer they had found was that Duke Escalante seemed to have suffered from a chronic illness.

The foreign physicians had diagnosed Juan Escalante with a disease that he had been oblivious to, which had slowly eaten away at his heart and hardened it eventually. They had said that it wasn't anything he could have fought for long even if he had known about it. The reason Inés hadn't suggested that Cárcel assign a physician to his father's side had been because she had considered this to be Juan Escalante's "predetermined" fate. It was the same illness she had lost her beloved grandmother to when she had been a child. Thus, she had considered it to be part of the great plan that mere humans ought not to interfere with.

But among the memories Anastasio had awakened in her was Oscar's confession and denial to her when he had thought her to be asleep, proving that Duke Escalante's death had in fact been murder. The disease everyone knew to be the duke's cause of death hadn't been the only factor. Of course, murder could also be part of God's grand plan, but Oscar had countered that himself.

"His 'true' self lived a long, peaceful life and died a long time ago, right when he was destined to..."he had said.

The "destined" life Oscar had mentioned in her original memory was very different from the "fate" he had confessed to in the life she had not remembered heretofore. The latter was the real thing, and the former was the result of the actions of a man imagining himself to be God. It was sheer arrogance for him to think that his arbitrary decision to kill a man was somehow the divine will.

And what if the murder had not been destined but had led to a premature death? If the duke's death had been nothing but the twisted will of a lunatic, she had no reason not to try and save Cárcel's father.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. When she answered, Duke Escalante's valet entered the room. "You were looking for me, my lady?"

"I have called you here to discuss His Grace's health."

Worry was now clear on the man's expression which had held nothing but curiosity before. This meant that there was something wrong with the duke's health after all. Inés purposefully paused, giving him some time to agonize over his reply. This would allow him to not feel guilty about whatever he was about to reveal.

"Have you noticed any suspicious symptoms from His Grace as of late?"

"Suspicious symptoms?" he muttered before falling silent, evidently having been sworn to secrecy by his master.

"Do not worry. I am not trying to get something out of you to tell my family."

"No, no, I didn't think..."

"Well, if you did not think the wife of your young master was acting as a spy for House Valeztena, what then?" Inés sneered, deliberately jumping to conclusions to make him waver. One of her special talents was to shake people to the core in this manner.

The man looked bewildered, instantly at a loss for words.

"I promise that His Grace will not punish you in any way for this. I am simply concerned about my husband's father."

"Of course. I believe that your intentions are pure, but..."

"What else could possibly be keeping you from telling me, then?"

"Even Her Grace does not know of this..." he muttered as he lowered his gaze. He seemed to be aware that answering her question would only confirm that something was indeed wrong with the duke's health.

Assuming a gracious smile, Inés told him, "I understand. You could not possibly tell me something that even the duchess does not know about."

"I apologize."

"Then, consult a physician. Inform him of all of the symptoms you've noticed while serving His Grace up close. Give the duchess's personal physician a detailed report."

"But-"

"All you need to do is act as though these symptoms were your own. The physician often diagnoses the household staff as well, does he not?"

He blinked in surprise, having apparently never considered this.

"His Grace most likely does not pay these symptoms any mind, or is obliged to ignore them. If the physician concludes that they are of no concern, you can simply move on as if nothing happened."

"And if not..."

"I do not wish to question your loyalty to your master as to assume that you would simply stand by as his health dwindles away. Talk to the physician as soon as you can. That is all I will check on."

It was a gentle threat on her part, letting him know that if the symptoms truly weren't concerning, there was no reason for him to avoid consulting a physician just in case, and if they did turn out to be a problem, it would be entirely disloyal for him not to take action.

The valet nodded in silence, a look of disquiet settling over his features.

Just as Inés was about to let him leave, taking pity on him, a knock came at the door, and the valet went deathly pale. This tended to happen with people who were terrible at lying, even though she hadn't commanded him to do anything immoral. She could see why Duke Escalante had kept him at his side for so long.

Inés nodded at him, signaling that he could leave, at which the valet hurriedly opened the door. Cárcel was waiting outside, making her smile at the fact that he had knocked so politely, and the valet quickly left the scene.

Cárcel awkwardly stood in the doorway. "I was about to say 'it's me."

"What are you doing just standing there?"

In lieu of an answer, he simply eyed her from afar, looking rather cautious. He had been tiptoeing around her ever since he had given her Emiliano's necklace two days prior. He seemed to think that she was ready to explode at any moment.

After a short moment passed and he still hadn't moved, Inés impatiently rose to her feet and walked over to him. She tutted at him inwardly and reached out, making him smile as he took her hand in his. But his eyes were still full of concern.

"Did you accept your mother's gift?" she asked.

"She went through all that trouble for nothing."

"You had better not have said that to her."

"I didn't. Just as you warned me."

"Good." She placed her hands on his cheeks and pulled him closer for a light kiss as a reward.

Cárcel sighed wistfully against her lips. "I wish you wouldn't force yourself to act as though you are fine. I just came to check on you. You need not pretend-" 

"Do you really think I am nice enough to put on a forced smile?"

"Of course you are. You are the nicest of them all."

Inés bit down on his chin as if to reprimand him and whispered, "I suppose I am now the only woman in your life, so I suppose I would be the nicest."

Cárcel chuckled, making her heart ache.

She wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. "I won't waste another second of the little time we have left. Not ever again."

Because this moment, this life, was a fleeting gift she could never reclaim.