Deon simply watched the place where Lady Rosaline had disappeared.

The cup remained on the table, cracked down the middle from when she had dropped it after she disappeared. Then even that vanished.

The attendants disappeared next. One by one, their gloved hands dissolved into gray mist, their faceless masks cracked apart, and everything else went along with it.

Even the heavy gray that had smothered the garden opened back up, causing the masks on their face to slowly peel off and disperse into the light.

"Is it...over?" Hana asked softly.

"Yeah..."

The contestants stood scattered across the garden, exhausted, wounded, and afraid. The spear user clutched his bleeding cheek while the what-used-to-be owl woman, remained frozen beside the overturned table, staring at the empty chair where Rosaline had been.

Vivian let out a long breath and dismissed her remaining clone. "Well, I think I’ve had enough tea parties for a lifetime..."

Jin collapsed onto the grass. "Agreed. I never want tea ever again."

"You don’t even drink tea," Nami pointed at him, then proceeded to do the same, knees buckling onto the grass.

"I never want to start."

Deon hadn’t paid much attention to what they said, as his eyes found something atop of the empty chair.

At first, he thought it was a key.

It would make sense. But instead, it was just a small piece of paper that was torn out from a diary, with only one thing written on it—

[1809]

Deon stared at it.

"...A code?"

"Mean anything?" Vivian placed a hand on his shoulder, causing him to flinch and turn around.

"Maybe...perhaps it’s a date? Seems like September 18th..." Deon muttered, looking to the far wall of the garden.

Now that the sky had cleared, the light was evidently pointing at one thing. Though not like he forgot, as they came here for only one thing in the first place.

The Rose Room.

But just as quickly as he saw the code, Deon realized that Martin, who had been hiding in the back the entire time, managed to see it as well.

Immediately, the man’s eyes widened as he realized where it was supposed to go and ran straight for the door.

For half a second, nobody moved.

Not because they didn’t understand what he was doing, but because nobody expected the old fox to be stupid enough to make the first move so openly.

"Martin!" Deon yelled, but the man did not turn back.

Martin’s limp from earlier was completely gone, probably another acting trick of his, as he shoved past all the contestants and got to the door.

"Stop him!" someone shouted.

He reached the Rose Room door and fumbled with the four brass dials beneath the handle.

"One...eight...zero...nine..."

Click!

The door opened before anyone could reach him, and Martin slipped inside.

"Damn it!" Deon snapped.

He sprinted after him, Vivian and Hana moving only a step behind. The twins and Jin followed as well, though Jin looked like he was about to collapse on the spot.

By the time Deon reached the door, Martin had already disappeared into the room beyond.

He pushed through and immediately froze.

The Rose Room was not what he had expected at all. There were no walls of flowers or red petals scattered across the floor. He had predicted that it would be filled with monstrous plant monsters that would rip them to shreds.

But instead, the room stretched forward like a private gallery, narrow and quiet, with tall windows on one side—

And framed memories along the other.

Paintings and preserved photographs covered the walls, each one arranged carefully in chronological order.

Lady Rosaline was in all of them, but not the one from the garden. This Rosaline actually smiled.

In one frame, she sat beneath a tree with a baby in her arms while Marcel stood behind her, awkwardly holding the hand of another child.

In another, she knelt in the garden while two children clung to her skirt. A younger Elliot stood in front of her, proudly holding up a crooked flower crown with both hands.

Farther down, one painting showed the family gathered around a dining table. Marcel looked younger and healthier. Rosaline had one hand over her mouth as if caught mid-laugh, while the children reached across the table for pastries.

Hana slowed beside him. "Oh..."

Deon said nothing, simply moving forward.

For some reason, the happy memories felt worse. At least grief made sense in a place like this. But this—?

Was simply cruel.

These were the moments Rosaline had locked away because remembering them probably hurt more than forgetting. And Miracle Royale production simply turned them into a game, a locked area they all had to get through.

The farther they went, the fewer the frames became. Each portrait saw the Lady’s smile dwindling more and more. And at the end of the hall, a pedestal waited beneath a circle of golden light.

On top of it sat a jewelry box with a tiny blue gem embedded in the center of the lid, rose motifs engraved all along the sides.

And Martin Wells had both hands on it.

"Stop right there!" the old man shouted.

Deon halted, just in time for every other contestant to arrive on the scene and see what was happening. But he was so speechless that the only thing that managed to come out was:

"...Really?"

Martin tightened his grip on the box. "Don’t come any closer!"

Vivian tilted her head. "Oh? And what happens if we do?"

Martin’s eyes flicked toward her, clearly terrified, but greed held him upright. "One step closer and I break it! I swear I’ll break it!"

Hana froze. "Wait!"

"Tch..." Deon clicked his tongue, staring at the box.

It was small enough that Martin could drop, throw, or slam it against the pedestal before anyone could reach him. And Deon couldn’t really bank on the box being indestructible, even if it was a key item.

Martin lifted his chin, clutching the box tighter. "I found it first. I opened the room first. That makes it mine."

"You ran ahead after seeing the code I found."

"Details," Martin snapped. "This is a death game, isn’t it? You of all people should understand. The first person to claim a reward keeps it."

"Alright," Deon relented, trying to see where the situation was going to go. "What do you want?"

Martin raised the jewelry box, glancing at it before his eyes returned to meet Deon’s.

"Something of equal value."