“How long has it been since you last saw the Monday moon?” Beatrice asked, pointing at the sky.

After the sun died, eight bright moons illuminated the sky. Since then, the moon that rises marks the day, and the moon that sets marks the night. In August, the moons appear in a sequence of red, green, blue, orange, yellow, purple, black, and white.

A full cycle forms the seven days of the week, with Sunday having two moons: the black moon (waning moon) and the white moon (pseudo-sun).

However, six years ago, the red moon that was supposed to appear on Monday disappeared. The people speculated, but the imperial magicians did not offer any explanations.

“Six years,” Charlotte replied. “Does this cult have anything to do with the red moon?”

“They call themselves followers of the red moon. They’re kidnapping people, and the number of missing persons is now... around a thousand,” Beatrice said, taking some time to recall the latest count.

“But even so, there’s no need to kill like that, right?” Charlotte questioned, confused.

“The red moon followers kidnapped a noble,” Beatrice answered. “The nobles probably felt threatened, and since they only care about their own safety, they don’t care how many civilians die.”

Charlotte wanted to say something but held back, muttering “scoundrels.”

“You should worry more about your own problems, little girl,” Beatrice said. “I’m guessing the entire Solvellon is after you now. Of course, I can hide you here, but you can’t stay hidden forever.”

“Thank you, Miss Beatrice. I don’t know how to repay your kindness,” Charlotte thanked again.

“You will repay me,” Beatrice said mysteriously. “The good news is, that Alfred brat probably doesn’t even know that you’re women. But your hair…”

Both of them looked at Charlotte’s hair ends.

Charlotte gathered her hair with her hands, protecting the pink tips.

“This hair color is unique among the nobles. In all of Solvellon, only you have it. You better cut it.”

“No!” Charlotte turned, her back to Caroline, as if trying to protect her hair from being cut. “It was a gift from my mother.”

Charlotte spoke with a trembling voice, and Caroline believed that if she didn’t help defend Charlotte, she would probably start crying.

“There are other options,” Caroline spoke, as expected. “You could dye it.”

“I hope there’s still some dye left,” Beatrice said. “There are few hair dye shops in Solvellon, and I’m sure someone is keeping watch. If the dye runs out, you’ll have to make do.”

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“We can’t stay like this forever, right?” Charlotte was still dissatisfied. The pink tips in her hair were something she cherished deeply.

The Christie family had already vanished along with Kaihaide, and her hair might be the last trace of her maternal lineage.

“There’s a solution,” Beatrice said, sipping tea and resting her chin on her hands, speaking slowly. “They think you’re followers of the red moon. So, you’ll deal with the red moon cult. That way, the blockade will be lifted, and they won’t pursue you anymore. When that happens, you can leave easily.”

“We refuse,” Caroline interrupted, before Charlotte could speak.

“If they can threaten the nobles, my lady might fall into a trap. I can’t let her take risks.”

“Why don’t you ask your lady what she thinks?” Beatrice looked at Charlotte.

“I accept,” Charlotte said calmly.

“My lady...” Caroline still wanted to protest, but Charlotte didn’t give her a chance.

“Caroline, a knight cannot ignore evil,” Charlotte said firmly. “Besides, we can’t refuse. According to the usual plot, even if we refuse, we’ll end up caught in something by chance. For example, tonight, a cultist could kidnap you, and I’d have to go rescue you.”

Beatrice probably didn’t expect Charlotte to use such an argument.

She looked at Charlotte’s head, trying to understand what was going on in her mind.

Then, based on years of teaching experience, Beatrice came to a conclusion. “You shouldn’t let her read those strange books,” Beatrice said to Caroline.

“You’re right,” Caroline replied, agreeing.

Charlotte didn’t understand what they were talking about but instinctively felt offended. It was then that something furry rubbed against her legs.

“Ah!” Charlotte exclaimed, not realizing something was approaching.

It was a small black creature, with an elegant posture, a proud gaze, like a king patrolling its territory, predator’s teeth and claws, and footsteps as silent as death.

Yet, it wasn’t fierce; Charlotte found it adorable.

“Is it a cat?” Charlotte asked, stepping aside to give the cat space. “Miss Beatrice, is it yours?”

“Oh, it’s Mr. Morris,” Beatrice answered, calling him by name. “I just leave some food for him and an open window.”

“Can I pet him?” Charlotte asked, already completely enchanted by the animal.

“Ask him. He seems to like you.”

“Mr. Morris, come here.” Charlotte carefully stroked the black cat’s head, and it rubbed its head against her palm.

“The girl smells like the sun,” Morris thought. How many years had it been since he saw the sun? If the girl’s skirt wasn’t stained with blood, he’d be happy to sleep next to her for a while.

“The book says cats have nine lives, but some say seven. Is that true? I’ve never seen such a peculiar creature like him.” Charlotte’s eyes were sparkling.

“I’ve never seen him die,” Beatrice replied. “You should go change clothes. I imagine you brought your own, right? The clothing stores are closed now.”

Charlotte was still playing with the black cat and didn’t hear what Beatrice had said. Caroline had to hurry her, and Charlotte reluctantly said goodbye to the cat.

“Go up the stairs to the left, the first room is yours.”

Beatrice said as she passed Charlotte.

“You can sleep next to her,” Beatrice said to Caroline.

“I don’t need sleep,” Caroline replied. “You can put me in the same room as my lady.”

“Why don’t you go with her?”

“Actually, I’d like to ask you a question.”

“Ask.”

“How did you get the letter onto my lady’s desk?” The letter that mysteriously appeared on Charlotte’s desk was what set everything into motion.

To this day, Caroline still didn’t understand how it bypassed all the defenses of the Eiberg family, appearing mysteriously.

“What letter?” Beatrice asked for the first time, looking confused. “I didn’t send any letters to you.”

Caroline was even more confused. “Wasn’t it you who wrote to my lady to come to Solvellon?” She thought the woman in front of her had sent them, using clues about their parents as bait, so Charlotte would help her achieve some goal.

“I don’t know your address, I couldn’t send a letter.”

Beatrice didn’t seem to be lying. If it wasn’t her, then who could it have been? Caroline began to feel uneasy.

The mysterious letter itself was already an unwise thing to trust. Perhaps this journey should never have begun.