They gulped at the intrusive thought that had just flickered through their minds before resuming their trek toward the primary entrance. The portal was monolithic, its facade embellished with labyrinthine carvings of cascading water and spiraling surges, the motifs etched with breathtaking precision.
Before Sonoko could even extend a hand to thrust it open, the twin doors were hauled apart from within.
Sonoko, Ran, and Conan were met by a pair of maids stationed there, having unlatched the way for them. Once the threshold was fully exposed, the attendants bowed marginally and spoke in perfect harmony.
"Welcome home, Lady Sonoko. Welcome, Lady Ran."
Then, both maids pivoted their heads in flawless synchronization, their scrutiny landing on the young boy beside them, as if wordlessly expecting him to announce his identity.
Conan detected their focus instantly. Without a moment's pause, he offered a civil bow.
"Hello, I'm Conan Edogawa…"
The maids beamed at him, their countenances softening, and once more, they spoke as one.
"Welcome, Conan Edogawa-sama…"
Ran and Conan reciprocated the salutation.
"I told you already, don't address me like that…" Sonoko grumbled beneath her breath as she crossed into the residence. She then addressed the maids. "Is Little Leon already awake?"
The two attendants replied in rhythmic unison, "Yes, Lady Sonoko."
Sonoko gave a curt nod, a faint grin tugging at her lips. "We intend to dine here for lunch. Can you request Uncle Ramzy to prepare a meal for us?"
"Consider it done, ōjo-sama," one maid answered before turning to depart toward the culinary wing, where Chef Ramzy presided.
Ran and Conan ventured into the mansion—or rather, the citadel—and the instant they traversed the threshold, the interior blossomed before them. Near the foyer stood a designated zone where visitors were required to shed their footwear. Without dallying, Ran and Conan slipped off their shoes and aligned them meticulously beside the others. A maid approached, presenting them with a pair of plush, ivory indoor slippers fashioned from exquisite cotton. Ran and Conan murmured their gratitude, and the maid acknowledged them with a formal tilt of her head.
After sliding into the slippers, the duo cast their eyes upward, absorbing the staggering magnificence of the fortress's interior. The chamber expanded outward—vast enough to compete with a ceremonial ballroom—and dangling high above was a sophisticated chandelier that diffused a brilliant luminescence. The internal aesthetic was a sharp divergence from the obsidian, crystalline theme that characterized the exterior. Instead, the inner sanctum shimmered with radiance, as if the entire expanse had been chiseled from glowing, translucent crystal.
Every nook of the sprawling hall glittered. The bulkheads, the arches, the complex contours of the architecture—all were composed of transparent, glass-like crystal. Even the staircase, winding elegantly toward the galleries both inside and out, was sculpted from the same immaculate substance. Beneath them, the floor radiated with porcelain-like tiles, buffed to a mirror-like luster. The furniture, the trinkets, every ornamental element—each artifact appeared hewn from flawless crystal. And this heart-stopping display was merely the vestibule of what was purportedly a private home.
Sonoko turned toward the maid and probed, "Do you happen to know where Little Leon is?"
"Ōjo-sama, he has already retreated to his chambers after concluding the production of the chocolates," the maid answered deferentially.
"Oh… so he has already dispatched them. I was actually hoping to display those chocolates to Ran," Sonoko remarked, her voice tinged with regret.
The maid offered a soft smile. "Please , do not fret, Ōjo-sama. We ensured that photographs were taken of them."
Sonoko beamed and gave the maid an assured thumbs-up while offering a wink. "Excellent work," she stated with praise.
The maid inclined her head in recognition.
Then Sonoko spoke once more, "So, he is in his room?" She rotated her head, peering back at Ran and Conan, who were still mesmerized by their surroundings, and asked them, "You desired to view Little Leon's canvases, correct?"
Upon hearing her, Conan and Ran snapped back to attention, and both offered a resolute nod.
Sonoko planted her hands on her hips and proclaimed with a bolstered voice, "Then let's proceed… to his room."
"To his room?!" Ran and Conan repeated together, caught off guard.
Sonoko then cried out with surging fervor and zeal, "Come on, follow me!"
With that, Sonoko marched toward the ballroom-esque foyer of the castle. She headed directly for another pair of massive double doors, already flung wide. Ran and Conan trailed closely, noting the majestic entryway. Unlike the crystalline flooring of the reception hall, the territory beyond these doors was blanketed with a lavish crimson carpet.
They stepped inside behind Sonoko, and within, another startling panorama awaited. The ceiling climbed to colossal heights, as though the architecture were intended for titans. Their eyes roved in wonder, unable to resist absorbing every nuance. As they pressed forward, they noted the profound silence of the environment—they could distinctly hear the muffled resonance of their own strides.
Presently, they reached the first chamber, which remained shut. In the center of the spotless white door was a tablet, and engraved upon it were the words: "Art Room."
Ran and Conan halted to read the inscription.
Sonoko glanced back and observed them lingering before the art room entrance. Without pausing, she shoved the door open. As it swung inward, she moved inside and summoned them, "Come, I'll show you something here."
Ran and Conan felt their intrigue ignite at what she purposed to unveil. They trailed her into the atelier.
Upon entering, they were greeted by an enormous space—comparable in dimensions to a full basketball court. The area spanned wide, cavernous and unconfined. There were no windows visible, only ventilation slits high within the walls, granting the room the sensation of being insulated from the external world.
At the dead center of the hall stood a massive white canvas, roughly five feet in height and six feet in width. It lay flat upon the floor, which was shrouded in a sleek, black satin-like carpet. Encircling the canvas were numerous canisters brimming with pigments of various hues, distributed in a chaotic yet deliberate arrangement across the floor.
"This room is analogous to what Little Leon utilized during his residency in the States. This is the very sanctuary where he conceives his own masterpieces."
AM N. NOT.(っ－＿－)っ♤♤DRAFT♤♤