"A Ball invite, huh..." Océane crumbled the card. "Well, I don't feel the need to show my face there. Even though this is so commanding, the date is wrong to begin with, so to Hell. Goddamn courteousness."

His gaze fell on a second letter, and then upon the girls. They're trying to lure me out. It's no secret that I found my long-lost sister. But perhaps Jacquelyne not participating in social events is making them suspicious. And I absolutely can't let the girls be exposed, even if nobody remembers their faces and even if they look much better than they had when they first arrived. The price tags on their lives is too high to be overlooked.

Olivie had personally requested an audience with Jacquelyne. And that made Océane uneasy. Jacquelyne hadn't even debuted to the society, and sure, she was a mystery the Nobles wanted to unlock – but demanding to meet her was unacceptable.

He'd turn down the request; and he relayed the same to the Head Maid, for Olivie's arrival time wasn't far-off – thus, a reply letter was unnecessary.

"Girls," he said kindly, clapping his hands to attract their attention. "What's all the squealing about?"

"Immortality is really easy to understand!" Jacquelyne exclaimed. "It's more literal than metaphorical, unlike what I had earlier thought."

"Oh? That sounds like a ton of fun. Can I join?"

Jacquelyne nodded, patting the French Daybed. "So, it's basically getting rid of your mortal weakness. Things that can result in death."

"Such as your heart." Abrielle had her head in her hands, as if she were remembering something important. "This part is a little abstract – like, how can you detach your heart? But, apparently, a vessel – living or non-living – can carry it for you, and you'd be literally heartless. Your bodily functions will thereafter be looked after by spells and all... and that's it. Immortality. Therefore, this is a Forbidden Spell – as expected."

Abrielle glanced at a happy Océane, feeling more guilt than ever. She had understood that she saw the future of the person in question in their pupils, but was yet to devise a proper plan. She didn't know what to say, how to approach the situation...

And her own future was so concerning too.

"Though there's an obvious difference between an 'Immortal' and a 'God'. It lies in power, public reception, and endurance. An Immortal can't strengthen their powers or handle being detached from their mortal body, but Gods can. This..." Jacquelyne stressed, "This is what makes the Etoile the Etoile, unbelievable and charismatic."

Océane said, "I like to believe that this is only a legend. The people who are born under the Etoile's full influence are simply worshipped and trained to the point they become Saviors. Why," Océane patted Jacquelyne's head. "Aren't you and Mademoiselle Abrielle Saviors too? You might claim that your fight against the Goddess is for your Birthright, but either way, you're still trying to help the Nameless, especially given the fact that this house and title can protect you both for your entire lives, but the two of you aren't giving up on your quest."

"I'm going to make Diane eat dirt," Abrielle said.

Océane and Jacquelyne burst out laughing whilst Abrielle fumbled around for a bit to understand the joke.

—And that peace came to an end when Olivie decided to take disciplinary lessons for Océane's maids. He had Jacquelyne and Abrielle remain in his office – asking them not to come out for a while.

"Utter nonsense," Océane muttered continuously. "Why does this lady always get her way?"

Olivie was already seated with legs crossed, flashing her characteristic creepy grin as usual. "Thank you for the kind welcome! The maids were a bit of a hassle, but that's okay, Duke Abrielle."

Her tongue was a literal knife, shooting out insults coated in a thin layer of honey.

"I apologize," Océane lied through his teeth. "I didn't realize that an eloquent lady such as yourself would grace my unsophisticated mansion. I am so honored."

"Oh, Duke, it's absolutely fine! We don't hold grudges, now, do we?"

He nodded. "So, how may I entertain you?"

Olivie noticed the sharp words Océane was using – eloquent, unsophisticated, entertain. They were signs of hostility, irritation, and alertness. The atmosphere was unfavorable; and another time warp would attract Diane's attention. So, she had to achieve her goal – this was the only chance she had. Her timepiece couldn't turn back more than twelve hours ever since Diane restricted it.

Marrying Duke Abrielle would be stressful and duty-filled – though beneficial. Jacquelyne wasn't cooperating – and Olivie would face backlash if she tampered with Océane's dear sister. Abrielle was yet another issue – she had somehow managed to revoke the memories Olivie had forcefully blanked out.

The situation was mocking her.

And she despised that the most.

"I'd like to have a word with Madame Jacquelyne – oh, there's no need to tense up there, it's just a bit of gossip! I understand that you're overprotective of her, but..."

Olivie simply curled her lips, not continuing her sentence.

—If not by words, then by force. She had to knock some fear into him, anyway, so might as well.

Océane, however, didn't require the harsh treatment at first – but then he messed it up. He decided that he'd allow the meet – of course, in front of his eyes, so that he could handle any rough advances Olivie made.

However, Océane would hinder the contract that Olivie wanted from the Nameless. This was not what Olivie asked for, so...

Arsenic poisoning or the tourné knife?

The maid who was supposed to deliver Océane's verdict to the two Nameless never made it out of the room. Olivie had her body burst open with Magique. Blood splattered everywhere, as if it were raining.

Before Océane could sense the same, she lunged at Océane, already having predicted that she couldn't have arsenic enter his system in any way, so it'd be a direct assault. Océane was caught unguarded, but his reflexes were too quick for her to counter. Thereafter, she tried pinning him down by gathering enough force through her Magique to have him in binds – but he was still stronger.

"You—you—you Addle Pate!" Olivie began yelling ancient profanities – related or not. He had her hands clasped, so she swung her legs to attack. Distracted by the sudden disturbance, Océane didn't realize that Olivie had aimed for his blind spot – his shoulder.

His body slammed on the floor, and Olivie immediately seized the chance and sat atop him.

She was going to make a new doll.

Olivie was running out of time; the thudding footsteps from the upper floors were deafening her. She heard a loud screech: "BIG BROTHER!"

—There she was, the Nameless! The Queen piece would be furious, and the Knight was now out of the equation, plus a time warp could take away this advantage over Océane so—

She'd take whatever was coming her way, head on.

Ripping his coat and vest off, she stabbed his neck to paralyze him, and began inscribing a Magique circle on his chest to make him her slave. All that crimson blood oozing out was a sight to behold, and Olivie loved the gore.

Océane, of course, struggled. He didn't want to be rough with a lady at first, but now that she had crossed the line, he didn't care anymore. He clutched her long hair, that had been styled to an updo, and tried ripping it off her scalp. They were both screaming at this point; Olivie was unconsciously crying and whilst Océane was under tremendous pressure and pain. His vision was unable focus – and it was worse than Olivie's blurred vision.

It resulted with Olivie slicing most of her hair, and due to the momentum, Océane's dominant hand hit the ground with a lot of force. Océane wasn't good with controlling his left hand, and Olivie was sitting on his lower abdomen so his legs couldn't land any attacks on her.

A deadlock.

Océane tried to say something, but Olivie didn't have enough mercy for him. The door was being banged and the lock picked desparately.

She delivered the final blow by smashing his head – perhaps cracking his skull in the process – and Océane passed out immediately.

Olivie scratched the whole spell out by removing his upper skin layer; thereafter drawing the Death Spell that could reduce a body to bones. That would be much easier to clean up.

She needed the femurs anyway. And emotionally controlling the Nameless wasn't a miss either.

By the time the door was broken down, it was too late. The sight of Josette was incredible, her watering eyes wide open, her smiling lips trembling in vain. She was gnawing on her cheek's insides, bleeding profusely, as her punishment.

—Rather than blaming Olivie, Abrielle knew she was the one who murdered Océane.

Slowly, her composition faded away as she shut her eyelids and began chewing on her lips, her body trembling, covering her ears even though there was pin drop silence.

At least she accepted it.

Océane's cracked skull stacked upon its pile of bones was Olivie's achievement – an incredible sight.

Jacquelyne was a different case altogether. Looking at the mess, she simply looked emotionlessly and walked up to Olivie.

It reminded her of a Ball that never happened, a knife strapped in this lady's belt, Olivie's brothers' absence...

She can't ever bring Océane back.

Resurrection could mess up people, so even if she managed to find a way to trade Olivie's soul, her brother would never come back.

Never.

Maybe she saw this coming from the moment she screamed for her brother. She could never have a good life if she lived in this universe, after all. Something or the other kept happening – that tore her apart and bent her life.

"Ah... I think..."

Jacquelyne had a slight lag between feeling and accepting emotions due to her childhood trauma of dying. It rarely happened, though, and just when she was starting to break free of it...

To fill in the gap in her heart, she usually tried creating a distraction – she remained in denial till then, unfeeling – that she'd take out all her anger upon and, only then, she would scream her lungs out.

Why did pigs like Olivie even exist? God's mercy? And she's supposed to pity Olivie because she was a retard, and forgive her actions in the name of Diane?

As if she would.

This pig must prove herself worthy of her existence.

What kind of noise do these pigs make when fed their own medicine? Are they masochists or only sadists?

Too bad if they're not masochists.

"—No, I'm sure," Jacquelyne sweetly said, "that you're going to make a fine doll, dear Olivie. Would you like to play Tea Party with me?"

~~

= 1805 words

(15K words! And thank you for 1K reads!)

A/N: I actually wanted this contract to work out, but, oh well, looks like it's going to get harder for all of us now. This was my first action scene, hope I was able to deliver it!

Also, plot armor couldn't protect my poor Océane.

Pig, Tea Party and Doll are never good signs. I have another sadistic psychopath in making. Good luck.

Addle Pate is a word meaning jerk. It's Old English.

And Diane is the sanest among the bunch, no matter what anyone says.

~~