Chapter 11: Vol 1 Chapter 11: Shadow Dance Under the Stars

Night came silently. The sky in Rose Valley was filled with stars, clear of clouds and wind. The air was slightly cold, yet fresh. Amidst the silence of the village night, a silhouette stood alone on the edge of a small lake hidden behind a garden of wild roses.

Clara took off her robe and sat on a large rock. In her hand, a small silver pendant swung gently on the end of a chain. Her face stared at the lake, but her thoughts were far away—too far away.

“I’ve been to a place like this before… But why does it feel so foreign and familiar at the same time?”

The sound of rustling footsteps came from the bushes.

Clara immediately stood alert, her hand touching the dagger on her belt. But when she saw who had come, she froze.

A person in a simple dark red nightgown stood there.

Marry.

Her silver hair was loose, her sharp blue eyes stared calmly, not the slightest bit surprised to see Clara.

“I didn’t expect to meet you in this place,” Marry said softly, her voice like a night melody.

“I didn’t expect you to come out at night either,” Clara replied, hiding her tension in a flat tone.

Marry approached slowly, then sat on another rock not far from her. For a moment no one spoke. Only the sound of crickets, the breeze, and the trickling water accompanied them.

A Conversation Between Two Shadows…

“This place is quiet, too quiet for a detective like you, isn’t it?” Marry said, her tone sarcastic but still gentle.

Clara stared at her sharply. “A quiet place doesn’t mean it’s free from shadows.”

Marry smiled faintly. “That’s right. Even shadows can dance beautifully under the starlight.”

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Clara paused for a moment, then asked matter-of-factly.

“Who are you really?”

Marry didn’t answer right away. She just stared at the starry sky.

“I’m just a mother… who wants her daughter to grow up with a smile.”

Clara clenched her fists. “You’re not an ordinary villager. Your gaze, the way you walk, the way you talk… even the way you hide your intentions. Those don’t belong to ordinary people.”

Marry turned to her. “And you… think too much that you forget to feel.”

Clara fell silent.

Dance Under the Stars…

Suddenly, Marry stood up and stepped to the edge of the lake. In the silence, she raised her hands, as if dancing. Her body spun slowly, her steps light, her movements beautiful and deadly—like an executioner dancing with death.

Shadow dance.

Clara recognized it. The movement—an ancient martial art style used by the Blood Rose Princess, reported by the knights who survived the incident seven years ago.

Clara’s body stiffened. Her breath caught. The pendant in her hand fell to the ground without her realizing it.

It can’t be…

Marry finished her movement and stood with her back to Clara.

“You’ve seen this dance, haven’t you?” she asked softly, yet cuttingly.

Clara finally stood up, her purple eyes wide open.

“Who are you really?”

Slowly, Marry turned her head. Her eyes shone silver-blue under the starlight.

“I’ve answered it, Clara.”

Clara took a step forward. “Blood Rose Princess...?”

Marry lowered her head, then smiled... but not a threatening smile. A smile full of tiredness and forgiveness.

“Blood Rose has died before the world. All that remains is a mother... and a wound she doesn’t want to pass on to her daughter.”

The Crack in Clara’s Heart...

Clara couldn’t say anything. Her memories that had been vague all this time began to return. She began to remember the vague image of a girl who had once saved her in a bloody siege, covered her body from the explosion, and whispered...

“You must live, because the world can still be saved with your truth.”

Tears that she didn’t realize began to fall.

“I... once knew you... before everything was lost…”

Marry didn’t confirm, nor did she deny.

“If your memories return... and you feel the need to capture me. I won’t fight. But don’t involve Caelan.”

Clara stared at her.

“I... don’t know what to do.”

Marry looked up at the stars, then answered softly,

“Then don’t do anything for now… except listen to your heart.”

Clara returned to the inn without a word. In her left hand, her silver pendant felt heavy. Inside the pendant was a small, worn photo—two girls: one with purple hair… the other with silver hair.

Meanwhile at the lake, Marry stared at her own reflection in the water, then whispered,

“If you remember… will you judge me, Clara?”

Beneath the starry sky, two women who shouldered a bloody history danced in each other’s shadows. And fate, silently lurking, waited only one step to destroy that fragile peace.