Alice found the estate by following the address on the invitation. She had a hunch about who might have sent it—perhaps it was connected to the poor soul who'd bought the five pages of her journal.
This only made her more curious to meet this unlucky individual in person.
However, the estate's address, despite being linked to such an odd invitation, turned out to be quite ordinary, which left Alice a bit disappointed. But the disappointment didn't last long—she hadn't even entered yet, after all.
With renewed anticipation, Alice presented the invitation and was led into a very normal-looking parlor... until she caught sight of a certain someone. Who was this?
Alice's gaze shifted to a girl whom the maid had referred to as "Miss Winifred."
The girl, around Alice's age, had black hair and dark eyes and wore a black dress. She was strikingly beautiful but sat with an oddly lifeless demeanor. It wasn't until she noticed Alice that a glimmer in her eyes indicated she was indeed alive.
Alice's surprise came from the fact that… no, Amon had seen this girl before.
Why would an extraordinary young lady, a noble, pretend to be robbed in the Eastern District? To Alice, this made no sense at all.
Winifred, holding a book in one hand, sat on a single-seater sofa. Two cups of steaming tea sat on the table in front of her. Hearing Alice's arrival, she raised her head from her book and gave a very polite smile, saying, "Please, have a seat."
This only added to Alice's unease, though she tried to hide her surprise. She suspected Winifred had already noticed, but she kept her composure, sat down, and took a sip of tea. It tasted much creamier and sweeter than any tea Alice had had before. She set it down after a single sip, glancing up just as Winifred put her book on the table.
Alice immediately noticed what was tucked inside its pages—without a doubt, it was her own handwritten journal.
Winifred observed her reaction and smiled casually, saying, "Did you know, I came across something quite interesting recently.
"I bought five pages of Roselle's notes, but when I read them, I was astonished to find… my goodness, all five pages seemed identical!
"It appears they were copied by the same person… Miss Rose, any thoughts on this?"
Alice looked into Winifred's dark eyes and, without missing a beat, replied, "Recently, I also encountered something rather interesting.
"A thief broke into my house but didn't take any valuables. Instead, they only stole a doorknob.
"After inspecting the house, I discovered that five pages of Roselle's notes had mysteriously appeared… so I sold them."
Winifred feigned a look of exaggerated shock. "Oh, really? So, what happened then? Did you report it? Was the thief caught?"
Alice remained impassive. "I doubt this falls within the police's jurisdiction.
"In fact, I later saw that thief on a wanted poster. It turns out he broke into the Church of the Lord of Storms and stole the donation box."
Winifred's brow furrowed slightly as she repeated, "He?"
Alice smiled slightly, saying nothing more.
It was clearly a lie.
Alice wasn't particularly skilled at lying, and her previous nervous reactions had been obvious. But instead of clumsy deception, Winifred sensed a kind of arrogance—an attitude that Alice simply didn't care enough to conceal anything.
It seemed that, despite Alice's friendly behavior toward the maid and herself, Winifred privately concluded that she was not truly approachable.
—She wasn't being truly friendly; most people simply didn't matter to her.
So, who could be her equal?
Curiosity stirred within Winifred, prompting her to ask, "Why do I get the sense that, while you seem friendly, you're actually quite arrogant?
"It's as if… you don't take anyone seriously. If you don't want to answer, that's fine; I'm just asking."
Alice paused, momentarily stunned.
Had she… been arrogant?
Several people had already commented on her apparent lack of respect for the divine, but for mortals too… mortals? Suddenly, Alice realized where the issue lay.
When she referred to humans as "humans" and ordinary people as "mortals," when she repeatedly emphasized her own humanity, when she tried to understand and mimic human behaviors, she had already set herself apart.
Amon… must have noticed long ago, right?
Recalling Amon's attitude, Alice sighed, feeling a headache coming on. She looked at Winifred and said with a small smile, "Actually, I just realized it now… if you hadn't pointed it out, I wouldn't have noticed that I subconsciously don't think of myself as human."
Winifred's eyes widened, and she frowned slightly in thought before hesitantly asking, "So, is that how others see you?"
"…Probably not," Alice replied with a strange sense of detachment. "But it doesn't really matter. Actually, I meant to ask… do you need anything else?"
Winifred thought for a moment, then shook her head. "I just wanted to know who sold those five pages of Roselle's notes… so, was it you who stole the Church's donation box?"
"Of course not," Alice replied evenly. "A… certain wanted criminal already knows, but did he deny it? No, I don't think so."
This impeccable logic made Winifred hesitate. For a moment, she doubted her previous conclusions.
But she soon noticed another potential clue. "Are you two connected? Are you friends?"
Recalling Amon's familiarity when calling her name, Alice shuddered. "Do you mean the kind of friends who would gladly kill each other?"
Clearly, this wasn't how most people defined friendship. Winifred fell silent, and Alice stood up to ask, "May I leave now?"
Winifred studied her for a moment before suddenly asking, "Does that mean we're friends now?"
Alice frowned slightly.
She rarely used the term "friend" to define her relationships. She preferred terms like "important person" over "friend."
To her, a "friend" wasn't as clearly defined as a "colleague" or "classmate." In her view, friendship seemed subjective and lacked a precise definition.
So she looked at Winifred and asked, "What does 'friend' mean to you?"
Winifred lowered her gaze, thinking for a moment before answering, "Someone who won't look down on me, who won't talk badly about me behind my back, who gets along with me and shares common interests.
"Of course, shared interests aren't essential. They're just a bonus. Having common hobbies helps, but a friend doesn't need to have the same interests."
"Hmm…" After a moment's thought, Alice replied, "By that standard, perhaps, for now at least, we could call ourselves friends?"
"For now?" Winifred echoed softly. "Well, a temporary friend is still a friend… Why do I get the sense you're in a hurry to leave?"
Alice smiled slightly, choosing not to answer.