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The name that had just left the young man's lips was far too familiar.
No—calling it familiar didn't even feel right. It was unmistakably her name.
Uriel—no, Beatrice—met Caron's glowing eyes through the blades that crossed between them.
"You're speaking nonsense," she said, her tone cold and measured.
Perhaps he was just probing. Caron Leston was the grandson of Grand Duke Halo. It wouldn't be strange if he had heard something from his grandfather.
She had erased every trace of her identity as Beatrice. Completely. With the help of the Inquisition, she had escaped the Ducal Family of Leston's surveillance without a single flaw. She was confident that no one could connect her to her former self.
That was why she denied his words without hesitation.
"I don't know where you heard that name, but—" Beatrice began, but was cut off.
"At first, I wasn't sure," Caron interrupted, his tone casual. "Even just before we crossed blades, I didn't think it could really be you."
"…What?" Beatrice asked.
"But now that I know, I'm glad. Let's keep going," Caron said.
Clang!
Their swords clashed again.
Shards of light scattered through the air like shattered glass. Fragments of a dark blue moon and a pale white one danced together, casting brilliance across the arena.
Caron stepped forward, pressing his advantage....
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