A fortune-telling princess

Camilla, still bound, was trying to assess the situation, her eyes darting around rapidly. Arsion and Petro stepped toward her captor simultaneously.

“Talk.”

“Where is Camilla right now?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about! I don’t understand any of this!”

“Kyahhh!”

The cold steel of Arsion’s blade pressed against her neck once more.

“This is your last chance. Where is Camilla?”

“I don’t know! I really don’t know what you’re talking about!”

She screamed in desperation, but the sharpness of her voice failed to mask her fear.

“Ugh!”

Arsion’s hand shot out, gripping her neck tightly.

“Are you sure you don’t know?”

“Ugh… nghh…”

His suffocating aura filled the air, a deadly pressure wrapping around everyone present. Petro sighed heavily and placed a restraining hand on Arsion’s shoulder.

“Let’s take her to the Sorpel estate.”

Judging by her hysterical outbursts, this wasn’t going to resolve easily.

“This isn’t something we can handle alone.”

Arsion hesitated briefly before swiping his hand. Light engulfed the three of them, and they disappeared from the spot.

“Kyaaa!”

“Miss!”

“W-What’s going on?”

The sudden entrance of Arsion, holding Camilla at swordpoint, sent shockwaves through the Sorpel estate.

To make matters worse, Petro stood behind him with his weapon drawn.

“What is the meaning of this?!”

The first to arrive at the commotion was Butler Luve, his tone icy.

“Unhand her immediately.”

Arsion regarded him with faint amusement. It wasn’t often someone dared to address him so firmly, even when he was on a rampage.

“What’s this commotion?”

A low, commanding voice filled the hall, silencing everyone instantly.

“How dare you threaten my daughter in my home.”

The Duke of Sorpel had arrived. His mere presence altered the atmosphere, a chilling pressure spreading throughout the room like frost.

His oppressive aura stilled everyone to their core, preventing anyone from speaking rashly.

“Does this look like Camilla to you?”

“What?”

Arsion’s words shattered the silence.

“Father! Please, save me!”

Sensing her final chance, the impostor Camilla cried out desperately, tears streaming down her face.

“I don’t know why they’re doing this! Father, please…!”

The sight of “Camilla” in tears only heightened the Duke’s growing fury. But he hesitated, unwilling to act recklessly while she was still in Arsion’s grasp.

“What is going on here?”

At that moment, Ravi burst onto the scene, having been alerted to the disturbance.

“Camilla!”

His face contorted with rage upon seeing his sister held captive.

“What the hell are you doing to my sister?!”

“B-Brother…”

Using her most pitiful expression, the impostor called out to Ravi, her trembling voice a plea for salvation.

“Please… help me…”

Ravi took a step forward but stopped abruptly.

Something felt off. He couldn’t place it, but an inexplicable discomfort gnawed at him as he looked at her tear-streaked face.

“Could you shut up already?”

A familiar voice broke the tension.

“Don’t use my face to beg him like that. It’s disgusting.”

“…!”

Everyone’s jaws dropped as another Camilla strode into the room, clicking her tongue in irritation.

****

“Why are you here?”

Still tied to a chair in a dim underground room, Camilla blinked at the unexpected visitor.

“Should I leave, then?”

She blinked again as the visitor, none other than Havel, the reaper, nonchalantly turned as if to walk out.

“Wait! No, wait!”

Snapping out of her daze, Camilla called out frantically, her voice laced with desperation. Her exaggerated grin screamed flattery as Havel untied her restraints with a sigh.

He turned to glance at Bess, the water ghost, who stood frozen in shock nearby.

“Wait!”

Camilla, now free, quickly interposed herself between Havel and the ghost.

“Don’t tell me you’re here to take her?”

Havel raised an eyebrow.

“I’m multitasking.”

“What?”

“I’m here to settle my debt.”

His tone was casual, but Camilla understood instantly. He was referring to the favor she’d done for him back at the orphanage.

“Fine,” she muttered. She had hoped for a bigger favor in return, but it seemed this was all she was getting.

“And Bess? Are you taking her now?”

“Not your concern.”

“Just one question.”

She hesitated. It really wasn’t her place, but she couldn’t help herself. Surely, a reaper like Havel would have answers.

“If I can answer it.”

“What are those things?”

She pointed to the unconscious boy near the door. The child ghost clung to his side, still eerily unresponsive.

“An unregistered soul.”

“Unregistered?”

“Recently, souls not listed in the records have begun appearing.”

Unregistered souls. Souls that had been taken before their time, making them invisible to reapers until they were found.

“Meanwhile, souls listed in the records have been vanishing without a trace.”

Havel’s revelation made Camilla’s brow furrow deeply.

“So, they’ve stolen living bodies…”

Her voice was grim as the pieces fell into place.

“And why are they like that?”

She gestured to the unresponsive child ghost.

“When a soul is forcibly ejected, the lingering connection between the body and spirit shatters. It’s as if they’ve died, though their name remains absent from the records.”

“Can’t we just put their soul back in?”

Her eyes lit up with sudden hope. If the impostors could be expelled and the rightful souls returned, couldn’t the victims be saved?

“No.”

“Why not?”

Her voice rose in frustration. The connection’s severance shouldn’t be a death sentence!

“The thread linking their soul and body is already severed. They’re as good as dead.”

“…Damn it.”

Camilla ground her teeth, fury bubbling within her. Her gaze drifted to Bess, whose flicker of hope had already dimmed into despair.

“What about him? What happens to him now?”

Her glare turned icy as it landed on the impostor in the boy’s body.

“True name.”

“True name?”

“Once called, their stolen presence is undone.”

“And you know his name?”

“Of course.”

“Then do it!”

Havel didn’t hesitate.

“Albro Harrison.”

The name carried power. The instant it left Havel’s lips, the boy’s body shuddered, expelling a ghostly figure—a man well into his sixties.

“That old bastard…”

“Yes, that old bastard,” Havel muttered.

[No! What’s happening?! No! NO!]

The expelled spirit screamed and flailed, but no one paid him any mind.

Except Bess.

[Because of you… because of you, my son…!]

[Wait! Stop! Arghhh!]

Bess lunged, her hands gripping the ghost’s neck as her rage erupted. Camilla, feigning ignorance, silently cheered her on.

“Did you only come for that creep?” Camilla asked Havel. “And you call this settling our score? How cheap.”

Havel turned, visibly unimpressed.

“Sit down.”

“What?”

“I’m tying you back up.”

“Who says that after untying someone?!”

Havel’s eyes narrowed. Camilla, quick to adapt, raised her hands defensively.

“Fine, fine! You’re amazing, Havel! Happy?”

Havel rolled his eyes, muttering about her shamelessness.

[Where am I…?]

A small, trembling voice broke the tension.

[Mom?]

The child ghost, now aware, scanned the room anxiously. His eyes widened with joy upon seeing Bess.

[Mom!]

“…Dennis.”

Bess knelt, opening her arms as the boy ran to her. Their reunion, though bittersweet, was filled with warmth.

Camilla sighed deeply. It was hard to say whether to celebrate or mourn.

“Here.”

Havel’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

“One last thing to settle our debt.”

Before she could respond, Havel handed her a new gift—a surprising, invaluable one.