Chapter 170: Terrible Liar

The city had already begun returning to normal, though traces of the morning still lingered everywhere. Curious citizens still stood nearby, quietly discussing everything that had happened only hours earlier.

"I still can’t believe Lord Merygold was the real killer."

"The Queen nearly executed the wrong man."

"Thank the gods that boy figured it out."

"They say he’s Ambly-blessed."

Their conversations faded behind us as we continued toward the city gates.

Neither of us hurried. For a while, we simply walked side by side, listening to our footsteps echo against the damp stone streets.

After several minutes, Pix spoke. "You know..."

"Hmm?"

"I met Jelda because she stole my lunch."

I blinked. "She what?"

Pix laughed softly. "I was thirteen. She was twelve. I had bought the biggest meat pie I’d ever seen from the market and left it on a bench while I filled my water bottle."

"Don’t tell me."

"When I came back, she was halfway through eating it."

I couldn’t help smiling. "What did you do?"

"I yelled at her."

"And?"

"She burst into tears."

"Seriously?"

Pix nodded, smiling at the memory. "I immediately felt guilty. I thought she was crying because I scared her."

"What actually happened?"

"She cried because she thought I was going to make her give the pie back."

I stared at her. "That’s somehow even worse."

"I ended up buying her another one."

"You rewarded the thief?"

"I know!" Pix laughed again. "Looking back, I was an idiot."

"So how did you become friends?"

"She apologized the next day."

Pix smiled to herself.

"She saved up enough coins to buy me another meat pie. It was much smaller than mine, but she proudly handed it over like she’d just repaid a kingdom’s debt."

"Thief with honor."

"Right?"

We crossed the city gates and continued along the dirt road leading away from the walls.

The sounds of merchants and crowded streets gradually disappeared behind us, replaced by birdsong and the gentle rustling of leaves stirred by the afternoon breeze.

The road curved between open fields before narrowing into a forest path.

Pix looked ahead as she continued speaking. "She used to get lost all the time."

"Really?"

"Oh, constantly."

"Hmm."

She chuckled. "One day she wandered into the woods chasing a butterfly."

"A butterfly?"

"A blue one."

"And?"

"We spent three hours looking for her."

"What happened?"

"We finally found her sitting beside a stream."

"Was she scared?"

"No."

Pix laughed quietly. "She was trying to convince a frog to become her friend... she actually poisoned herself with a mushroom. And then she started seeing some stuff and all so... yeah."

I covered my face with one hand. "Wow. It sucks."

"It does." Pix’s smile slowly softened. "She never really changed."

Silence settled between us again. This time it wasn’t uncomfortable. It simply gave the memories room to breathe.

After several minutes, Pix spoke once more. "She always worried about her mother."

"Hatche?"

She nodded.

"Even when we were children."

I glanced toward her. "How so?"

"If we bought sweets, she’d only eat half."

"And the rest?"

"She’d wrap it in cloth and take it home."

"For Hatche?"

"For Hatche."

"Hmm."

Pix smiled sadly. "Jelda always said food tasted better when you shared it with someone."

I looked down at the road beneath my boots.

"She really was too kind, huh?"

"She was."

We continued walking beneath the tall trees.

The forest gradually grew denser, blocking most of the sunlight overhead. Shafts of golden light slipped through the branches here and there, illuminating patches of moss and wildflowers along the path.

After another bend, Pix finally broke the silence.

"The city cemetery filled up years ago."

I looked at her.

"So..."

"So they buried her here instead."

She pointed farther ahead. "Families who can’t find space inside the city usually come here. It’s quieter."

"Does anyone visit often?"

"Not many."

The path narrowed one last time before opening into a small clearing surrounded by towering pine trees.

Rows of simple stone graves rested beneath the forest canopy, each separated by patches of wild grass and white flowers that had grown naturally over the years. The wind barely reached this place, leaving only the occasional rustle of leaves overhead and the distant singing of birds.

No voices.

No city noise.

Just silence.

Pix slowed her steps.

"We’re here," she said quietly. "Jelda’s grave is just a little farther ahead." ℯℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

"Hey," I called, slowing my pace as I watched her walking a few steps ahead. "Do you have... anything at all you want to get off your chest?"

She stopped and turned toward me with a puzzled expression. "What do you mean?"

"I..." I slowly raised a hand. "Actually, let me show you."

"O-okay?"

"Pix..." I said quietly. "I’m a serial killer. I killed my own mother."

The color drained from her face. "W-what?"

"My father knew some special agents." I shrugged lightly. "They cleaned up the crime scene. It was like she never existed."

She stared at me, unable to answer.

"I kill bad people." I continued, taking another slow step toward her. "I always tell myself it’s because I don’t want anyone else to suffer the way I did."

I nodded.

"But that’s a lie."

She instinctively stepped backward.

"I enjoy it." I added. "Looking into someone’s eyes and watching the light disappear from them... it’s thrilling."

Her breathing grew uneven as she kept backing away. "A-Ace... why are you smiling?"

"Am I?" I tilted my head. "I didn’t even notice."

She swallowed hard.

"I loved someone once," I continued while closing the distance between us. "She died young. Every time I laugh... every time I feel happy... I start thinking she’s somewhere up there watching me." I looked toward the sky for a brief moment before meeting her eyes again. "If I’m happy, wouldn’t she be jealous? Wouldn’t that make me a terrible person?"

"A-Ace..."

I let out a quiet breath. "See? Saying those things out loud makes me feel better. It lifts a weight off my chest." I smiled, though it never reached my eyes. "You should try it."

She shook her head. "W-what are you talking about?"

"You’re the fourth suspect."