“So, what you’re saying is… you now know the full version of the riddle?”
On the stands of the Opera Hall, Ed narrowed his eyes slightly after hearing Fernand’s explanation, then followed up with another question. Fernand, having placed his now-empty wine glass on the nearby table, responded leisurely.
“Of course. Though I should mention—the full version of the riddle contains just a trace of cognitive poison. Listening to it unprepared might cause some mental harm.”
“I’m already prepared. Go ahead and tell me,” Ed replied bluntly.
Fernand paused for a moment, examined Ed for a second, then began to speak.
“Alright then, remember this well. The version of the riddle I know goes like this:
‘Within these palace halls,
I have laid threefold stages of the seven-bloomed lotus.
Dance upon them at the appointed time,
And thou shalt receive the blessing of the Flower’s Master.
Dance upon the first stage, and the blessing shall be the stem.
Dance upon the second stage, and the blessing shall be the leaf.
Dance upon the third stage, and the blessing shall be the flower.’”
Fernand recited the riddle slowly. Listening intently, Ed thoughtfully stroked his chin, then asked.
“This riddle… is it really something passed down from King Charles?”
“It should be. From what I’ve heard, the rumor that Charles’s treasure is hidden in the Temple of the Goddess of Beauty has long circulated within Flottes’s mysticism circles. That rumor traces back to this very riddle. It started spreading around six months ago. No one knows exactly where it came from, but it likely leaked from official channels. There are various versions, but their core content is essentially the same.”
Fernand responded seriously. After listening, Ed nodded thoughtfully, then smiled and extended his hand to Fernand.
“Thank you, Mr. Fernand. Your intel is very helpful to us.”
“Come now—no need to be so formal between us. Here…”
While speaking, Fernand lightly pushed Ed’s offered handshake aside and instead pulled out a cigar, handing it to him. Ed smiled, accepted the cigar, struck a match, lit it, and brought it to his lips.
…
Nighttime. Honor Guard Square, Temple of the Goddess of Beauty.
Adèle, having just finished dinner, strolled through the square while admiring the temple’s nighttime scenery. At the same time, she was connected via information channel to the distant Dorothy, listening to her latest intel.
“Huh? That Mr. F is actually working for the Falanoan government?”
Adèle responded internally with surprise. Soon, Dorothy’s voice sounded again.
“That’s right… More precisely, he seems to be a black-gloved agent working for a powerful figure within the current Falanoan government. This entire treasure hunt you’re all participating in—it was orchestrated by him. His main goal is to keep you inside the temple until dusk tomorrow.”
“Keep us here until dusk tomorrow? Why? What’s supposed to happen then?”
Adèle asked, puzzled. Dorothy replied promptly.
“I don’t know. Based on the intel we have so far, we can’t determine the exact goal of this shadowy mastermind. We don’t know why he’s lured you all to the Temple of the Goddess of Beauty—but it’s safe to assume his intentions aren’t good. So Adèle, are you still planning to stay and continue the treasure hunt?”
Dorothy’s question was clear. Although they didn’t yet understand the enemy’s motive, if they left the temple now and didn’t follow his script, his hidden malice might never get the chance to strike.
Adèle fell silent for a while. Her gaze slowly swept across the Honor Guard Square, landing on the statue of King Charles and the fountain that had already shifted its water patterns. Then she quietly responded.
“No… I still want to stay in the Temple of the Goddess of Beauty. Even if there’s a scheme behind all this, the riddle is real. There really is a secret hidden here by King Charles. And it must be revealed at a specific time. I want to stay and solve it…”
Adèle answered with conviction. Dorothy, seemingly having anticipated this, replied in turn.
“So… you believe that the so-called ‘appointed time’ is tomorrow at dusk?”
“Exactly. Based on the intel we’ve gathered, during Charles’s reign, this time of year was always when he hosted his banquet. And the highlight was the performance held at dusk on the second day. I believe that’s the appointed time mentioned in the riddle. If we miss it… who knows how long we’ll have to wait again.”
Adèle continued speaking with Dorothy. Her goal in coming to Falano was to find the Bourbon legacy—King Charles’ secret treasure. Though this entire operation now seemed shrouded in conspiracy, it was something she had mentally prepared for. As long as the possibility of uncovering King Charles’ secret treasure still existed, Adèle wouldn’t give up so easily.
“Your reasoning makes sense. Judging by the current signs, tomorrow may indeed be the so-called critical moment mentioned in the riddle. If the mastermind plans to do something tomorrow, it could very well be related to the riddle. From the standpoint of uncovering King Charles’ secret alone… now really isn’t the time to leave.”
Dorothy replied calmly. Hearing her, Adèle smiled and said:
“So, judging by your tone, you plan on staying to keep me company too~ little detective~”
“Heh… what kind of question is that? You’re the one actually staying inside the Temple of the Goddess of Beauty—the one truly taking the risk is you. Since even you aren’t afraid, why should I say otherwise?”
Dorothy responded with a slight tease, and Adèle chuckled in return.
“In any case, thank you for your help this time. We still have one day left. No matter what dangers await us, let’s rest for now and continue giving it our all.”
“Suit yourself…”
Far away from the temple, in a suburban inn on the outskirts of Flottes, Dorothy ended her communication with Adèle. Inside the warm room, she found a seat near the fireplace, sat down again, and stared into the flickering flames as she began to think.
“Judging by the current situation… we don’t have much time. Trying to trace Fernand back to the mastermind behind him is probably too difficult. So the focus of our investigation should be on solving the mystery of the Temple of the Goddess of Beauty. If we can uncover what’s hidden there, we’ll likely understand the mastermind’s motives as well.
“But… what exactly is the truth behind the riddle? What are these so-called three stages—and where are they hidden?”
With these many thoughts in her mind, Dorothy fell into deep contemplation, seriously considering how to find the three hidden stages.
…
The moon set, and the sun rose. Time passed quickly, and in the blink of an eye, the night was gone. Daylight returned once more to Flottes.
Morning sunlight shone down on the gilded rooftops of the Temple of the Goddess of Beauty, reflecting dazzling rays. Once again, nobles and dignitaries from across Flottes gathered throughout the palace, continuing the banquet that had begun the day before. The remnants of the Bourbon line, who had infiltrated the temple under the guise of guests, remained scattered around, anxiously and persistently searching for clues about the treasure.
Meanwhile, in some inconspicuous corners of the temple, another group of people had begun to move. Though they dressed like any other noble guests, they didn’t seem interested in mingling or socializing. Instead, they quietly approached various long-time temple staff—servants and workers usually overlooked.
“What? You’re asking if anything strange has happened in the palace lately?”
Outside a quiet supply room in the temple, a young woman dressed as a maid looked curiously at the handsome young man in front of her. The young man nodded and asked seriously.
“Yes. Anything like odd noises… strange sightings… even rumors of hauntings? Or any unusual legends about this place?”
There was a natural warmth and charm in his tone that made the maid speak without much hesitation.
“Well… let me think. As for weird sounds or sightings… I don’t think I’ve ever encountered any. I haven’t heard any ghost stories either. But if you’re asking about rumors, well, there are tons—treasures, ghosts, secret royalist bases… all kinds of stuff. But it’s mostly just outside gossip. Anyone who’s worked at the temple for a few years knows most of those stories are bogus. Nothing that mysterious here.”
The maid waved her hand dismissively. The young man frowned slightly, then continued asking.
“Has anything unusual happened recently? Especially in the past few weeks?”
“Strange things recently… hmm…”
The maid furrowed her brow in thought. After a few seconds, her eyes lit up as if something came to mind.
“Actually, yes—something did happen, about a month ago. A group of strange people came here. They had official passes and spent days going around, inspecting and poking at everything. It was like they were researching something. They stayed here for more than a week.”
“Strange people? What did they look like?”
“I don’t remember exactly. Just that they were a mix of men and women in uniform. Some of them were Black, and they weren’t speaking Falanoan at all. They kept babbling in some language I didn’t understand,” the maid continued.
The young man nodded thoughtfully, then asked again.
“And… did they end up discovering anything?”
“That, I’m not sure. But I think they found something. In their last few days here, they issued a high-level paper command ordering all of us out of the Opera Hall. I don’t know what they were doing in there, but they were in that hall for over two days straight. Only after they finished were we allowed back in.”
The maid continued recounting while trying to recall the details. After listening, the young man thoughtfully stroked his chin, then thanked her.
“Alright, thank you for your cooperation. Here’s a tip.”
He handed the maid a bill, which she immediately accepted with a bow.
“Thank you, sir.”
After taking the money, the young man fixed his gaze on the maid once more and spoke again.
“Lastly, forget everything we just talked about. As far as you’re concerned, you never saw me today. Understood?”
“Understood… sir…”
With a somewhat dazed murmur, the maid turned around and silently left the scene, while the young man—Brandon—straightened his collar and exited in the opposite direction.
Shortly afterward, Brandon passed through the colorful light of the Dome Hall and entered the Opera Hall. Looking at the circular stage inside, Dorothy mused silently.
“It seems… those people have at least already located one of the stages…”
With that thought, Dorothy had Brandon look up toward the audience balconies of the Opera Hall, where numerous guests strolled casually. Everything appeared normal, but a faint tension seemed to linger in the air.
“No… I can’t touch this stage lightly. If this one has already been found by them, there’s a high chance it’s rigged with some kind of safeguard. I mustn’t act rashly…”
Gazing at the Opera Hall, Dorothy dismissed the notion of taking action immediately and resumed thinking.
“This stage is off-limits for now… That means the key now is to find the other two stages. But where could they be hidden?”
For a moment, Dorothy sifted through all the information she had gathered. A mental map of the vast, east-west layout of the Temple of the Goddess of Beauty formed in her mind, and countless thoughts surged through her.
“A banquet held only once a year… at dusk… seven-petal lotus symbols… three stages…”
As those elements rapidly crossed her mind, inspiration suddenly struck Dorothy. At last, she had an answer.
…
At the grand gilded gates of the Temple of the Goddess of Beauty, several guards stood at attention. Suddenly, a faint clatter echoed from the distance. The guards turned toward the sound—and saw a convoy slowly approaching.
Compared to the carriages of Falanoan nobility, this procession was clearly on a larger scale. At the center of the convoy was an ornate carriage flanked front and back by rows of cavalry escorts, all dressed in Falanoan military uniforms and keeping a vigilant watch on their surroundings.
One rider at the front, upon spotting the temple in the distance, immediately pulled his horse to the side and slowed down. Before long, he rode alongside the central carriage and reported.
“Lord Samson, we are almost there.”
From within the carriage, a calm male voice responded slowly.
“Mm… I understand.”
Meanwhile, on a distant hill overlooking the road, several figures stood gathered. At the forefront was a pale-skinned, slender woman with a beautiful yet sickly appearance. She wore a loose suit, a tall top hat, and held a cane in hand. The gemstone at the tip of the cane was unusually large and wrapped in fine silk.
Staring far off toward the convoy approaching the Temple of the Goddess of Beauty, a faint smile crept onto the woman’s lips. Then she turned to face the figures behind her and spoke in a husky voice.
“The stage is just about set. The audience is in place. Now we’re just waiting for the curtain to rise…
“Are you looking forward to it, Consul…?”