The Insane Regressor: Throne of Pride

There was one thing Ravian had been doing since the very beginning of this nightmare: watching every last detail of what passed between the participants. To him, alliances were the single most important factor—and the one most capable of ruining his plans.

That was what he had noticed between Aldric and Mirai since that morning. Given the intelligence and experience Ravian had observed in Aldric, Aldric’s first response should have been to suspect Mirai. In fact, Ravian had expected Aldric—not Talia—to accuse her.

What surprised him even more, however, was that Aldric had never brought the matter to the table. He had not so much as mentioned it in passing.

How could Kaiden have died inside his locked room without leaving behind any trace of communication?

Someone had to have entered his room. That was the only plausible—and most obvious—explanation, and Ravian had been counting on Aldric reaching it. His goal had been for Aldric, the group’s strategist, to die after leveling a false accusation at Mirai. Yet contrary to Ravian’s expectations, Aldric never raised the matter at all. That was why Ravian had watched the two of them particularly closely all morning, until he eventually noticed the subtle signals they exchanged.

Still, that was not what concerned Ravian most.

What concerned him most was how they had managed to convince each other that they could be trusted. That question had nearly driven him mad ever since he discovered their alliance.

If the method they had used to prove their honesty to each other could also be used with more people, Ravian’s defeat and death within this nightmare would be inevitable.

For that reason, Ravian was certain the nightmare had left some limitation in that method—some flaw that would prevent a future in which all the remaining participants could prove their innocence to one another. This was not an act of generosity toward whoever held the role of the Killer.

Rather, it was because such an outcome would rob the nightmare of its entertainment, and Ravian had realized that entertainment was what the nightmare valued above all else.

Then came the second most important thing Ravian had kept track of and devoted a large share of his attention to: the tools each person had received from the palace to carry out their ordinary duties. Ravian had memorized the appearance of the service key to Sylvan’s room from the very first day, when Mirai received it and Aldric entered it into his records.

It was slightly longer than the other room keys, and its shank bore two slanted, dew-like marks engraved side by side.

He had also noticed long ago the small spring clip that fastened it to its sub-ring.

He would not need to break it.

He only needed to press the spring at the correct angle with a precisely measured amount of force—but how could he do that without Mirai noticing?

While all of Ravian’s thoughts revolved within his mind in a closed, interconnected loop, the group moved into the corridors to conduct the final inspection of the seals.

Mirai carried the vessel of hot wax. Bran carried the paper, Aldric carried the ledger, and Sylvan carried the spare seals. Garrick walked behind them, while Ravian was placed in charge of the pieces of folded cloth.

They finished inspecting Bran’s room, then Garrick’s, and then Sylvan’s.

Ravian’s room was the last in that corridor.

Mirai bent down in front of the small ventilation opening to apply the final seal. As she leaned forward, the heavy ring of keys swayed slightly beside her apron.

Ravian stepped closer and held out a sheet of paper to her.

At the very moment she reached for it, the edge of his sleeve snagged on the handle of the wax vessel.

The vessel tipped toward her wrist and waist.

”Careful.”

Ravian moved faster than any of them.

He caught Mirai’s wrist with one hand and pulled it back toward her side. With the other, he swept a piece of folded cloth over her hand and the side of her apron before the hot wax could reach her skin.

Some of the wax splattered across the floor.

”Are you hurt?” Aldric asked Mirai.

Mirai shook her head. ”No. He stopped it before it could reach me.”

Ravian slowly lifted the cloth.

To everyone watching, the cloth had done nothing more than intercept the wax.

None of them had seen its lower fold close around the outer edge of Mirai’s key ring.

During the brief instant in which the cloth concealed the ring from view, a thin strip of metal slipped out from between Ravian’s fingers.

He had removed it earlier from the clasp of one of the ledgers in the Correspondence Office.

Its tip slid beneath the spring clip on the small sub-ring, and Ravian pressed down with a carefully measured amount of force.

The clip opened.

One of the room keys slid soundlessly into the fold of the cloth. But Ravian was not finished. Before the spring could close, he used his little finger to slide another key into precisely the same position as the first.

The spring clip then closed once more, securing the replacement key to the sub-ring.

The entire act took no longer than a single heartbeat.

The ring neither jerked nor jingled.

Ravian released Mirai’s wrist with a light, elegant motion.

”My apologies. I didn’t notice the vessel,” Ravian said, offering her a noble smile, though only he knew what lay behind it.

Mirai looked at him in silence and nodded before glancing at the spilled wax.

”No harm done,” she said.

Ravian folded the cloth and returned it to the rest of the pieces he was carrying.

Aldric inspected the final seal before gesturing for them to move on.

Nothing about the key ring appeared to have changed, and the count had been completed only minutes earlier. The brief accident gave Aldric no reason to repeat it.

Once the inspection was complete, they gathered in the hall for the final restrictions.

Mirai turned toward Sylvan.

”Sylvan, you are third in the withdrawal order. When your mark appears, enter your room, lock the door, and do not respond to any voice or touch anything offered to you until the third toll.”

”Understood,” Sylvan replied firmly.

Aldric recorded the exchange, though even now, Ravian did not understand what purpose doing so served.

Mirai did the same with each of them before instructing them to begin returning to their rooms.

Then, without another word being spoken or anything passing between them, each participant withdrew to their room in the order determined by drawing lots, allowing no last-minute exchanges, just as they had agreed that morning.

Each of them locked their door from the inside.

Only after the final door had closed did the first toll of the Black Bell resound throughout Evernight Palace.

Ravian entered his room and locked the door. He waited until the echo faded, then took one folded piece of cloth from among the others and opened it.

A long key rested in the center of his palm, with two slanted marks resembling delicate drops of rain engraved side by side on its shank.

Ravian stared at it in perfect calm.

He had not merely stolen a key from its place.

He had stolen something far more valuable from Mirai.

Something she would regret failing to check tomorrow.