Chapter 2: A Duel by Moonlight

The imperial capital of Verseilles was a city without walls.

Its beautiful townscape, spread out across a gentle basin between mountains, could be seen in its entirety from atop the hill.

At its center was the palace, La Branne. From a bird’s-eye view, it looked like a large, white, cross-shaped building dividing four gardens, with a large courtyard out front. Its size was comparable to a small town.

The palace was the Empire’s backbone, acting as both the residence of the royal family and the place where matters of political and military importance were discussed.

Mansions owned by high nobles towered around it on all sides, held not only by those who lived in nearby territories, but also those from much more distant lands.

While there were no walls or gates to clearly divide the city, sentries could be seen lining the area. They acted as a barrier—any commoner who moved too close to the palace would be stopped and led away by armed guards before they could walk so much as ten paces.

The White Wolf Brigade marched down a wide, straight road which stretched out from the palace. Those living in the capital were crowded on either side.

As the anniversary ceremony would start tomorrow, they were already in a festive mood. Drinking-bouts had been held since midday, and the streets were scattered with stalls of all stripes.

But even then, there were too many people gathered for a mere celebration—at least, that was what Regis thought. He cocked his head to the side.

“...Why are there so many people?”

“They are hoping to catch a glimpse of Princess Marie Quatre. Of course, Prince Latrielle is also a target of much interest, but today is a special occasion.”

“She has been away from the capital for a while...”

“That too, but... The notoriety of Fort Volks was well recognized even in the capital. Naturally, the people are intrigued by the young princess who managed to capture it.”

“Oh, I see.”

The capital was home to many affluent houses, and those of more common backgrounds were genuinely inspired by the extravagant displays of nobles and the royal family. In such a climate, there would be no end to the popularity of a charming young princess who performed heroic deeds on the battlefield.

Latrielle had definitely taken the right measures under these circumstances.

Regis poked his head out of the window to see Altina. She sat atop the splendid chestnut steed, both legs to one side as it trotted along at a leisurely pace.

Likely owing to her political opponent, Latrielle, being right beside her, her expression was stiff all the way. Regis wondered whether this would make the female commander appear intimidating in the eyes of the people.

But as if to abate his worries, a child called out from the side of the road, enthusiastically waving his hand.

“Marie Quatre!”

While the gesture wasn’t necessarily rude, Regis was somewhat concerned about the boy’s lack of restraint in the face of royalty. Seeming to share his sentiment, the people present grew tense.

Altina, whose expression had been rigid up to that point, broke into a gentle smile and waved back.

Waah!

The crowd erupted in fervent cheers.

“Vive Marie Quatre!”

“Vive l’Empire!”

Someone among the crowd began to strum a tune, which spurred a drunk chorus to sing praise to the Empire. As the princess continued to smile and wave, it looked to Regis like she was forcing the expression.

All of a sudden, his ears were struck with the familiar voice of a woman.

“Regis!?”

“Eh!?”

He turned. The carriage, which had been moving at an unbearable crawl, felt as though it was suddenly moving much too fast as his eyes frantically scanned his surroundings.

Then, among the distancing crowds, Regis spotted her.

He thought to call her name, but... by that point, he could no longer see her face. There wasn’t much he could do about it, and Regis slumped back into his seat.

Looks like you’re doing well, Carol.

Only then, during that fleeting exchange, did it really hit him—he was back in the capital.

✧ ✧ ✧

A magnificent, intricately designed metal gate opened out before them, and the carriage finally entered the palace grounds, La Branne. It appeared the White Wolf Brigade could not follow them beyond this point, as they refrained from entering.

The same held true for Abidal-Evra and the others who had accompanied them from Fort Volks. Only the princess’s personal guard, Eric, was allowed in.

The carriage stopped in the palace square. On one side: Latrielle, Germain, and six guard knights. On the other: Altina, Regis, Clarisse, and Eric; four in total.

This was Regis’s first time in the palace. It all looked so unusual, perhaps even moving.

The crème-colored palace, a breathtaking display of esthetic architecture. The tiled plaza, replete with grand, intricately carved designs. The imperial guards, musket in hand, marching forth like clockwork in perfect unison.

He had read about it all many times in his stories, but had never actually seen it with his own eyes.

“...Amazing. They’re actually real.”

“Hah. We’re finally here.”

But, to Altina, this was where she was born and raised. She seemed several times more relaxed than when she had been surrounded by the crowds.

Paying no care to her dress, she jumped down from the back of the horse.

“I should thank you, Latrielle,” she said, stroking its rather damp mane, “For the horse, and for coming out to greet me.”

Certainly, it would have made for quite a comedic scene had they proceeded toward the palace in the stagecoach. Though, in a different sense, perhaps it would have drawn some approval from the crowds.

Latrielle placed an affectionate hand on his horse as well.

“Fufu. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“But, look—” Altina’s eyes grew sharp. “I don’t trust you one bit!”

“I see. Understandable. I’ve done enough to deserve that. I didn’t think one horse would be enough to atone for my past actions. Let’s meet again over dinner.”

With a somber smile on his face, Latrielle raised a hand in farewell and retreated into the palace.

Altina glared at his back.

“He’s definitely up to something.”

“...Are you all right, Princess?”

“That’s the face he makes when he’s planning something terrible!”

“...We are in the middle of a power struggle. Maybe that’s just the face he makes all the time these days.”

“You should watch out, Regis. He’s definitely going to do something.”

“...Tomorrow begins the three-day ceremony to commemorate the founding of our nation. If nothing happens, that makes my job nice and easy.”

“He was making the exact same face when he slipped a frog into my bag!”

“...A mere frog would be a blessing.”

The palace’s servants came out to unload the luggage from the carriage. It seemed Regis could finally get some rest.

While Altina had been shunned from the imperial court, she was still a princess, so she had her own room. She entered right through the front door, exuding an air of confidence as she made her way further in. All the while, Clarisse followed closely by her side, moving so smoothly it was as though that was where she naturally belonged.

Her guard, Eric, showed no hesitation either. As expected of a viscount’s eldest son.

Regis was the only one who felt out of place, wavering this way and that as he walked a short distance behind them.

The palace walls were lined with so many marvelous pieces of art that it was practically a museum. In fact, the palace itself was impressive enough to be considered a work of art.

What’s more, all manner of famous scenes had unfolded in these very halls...

Oh, my. Is that the pillar from The Court Thief of Love!? And over there... That corridor is where the duel in The Legend of Alfred the Hero took place!

“...Amazing... So this is the holy land.”

Naturally, the servants weren’t the only ones roaming the palace halls; there were plenty of nobles too. Those that spotted Altina quickly frowned. Once upon a time, they would mock her loudly enough that she could hear.

But that was no longer the case.

Behind the princess followed those carrying her giant sword, the Grand Tonnerre Quatre, and rumor had long since spread that Altina had defeated the hero Jerome in a duel. Furthermore, since then, it had become known that she had forced an army of barbarians into submission and captured a tenacious fort that had for years been a thorn in the Empire’s side.

By this point, she was the commander of a full-on army.

As expected, it seemed the nobles of the capital recognized her as an accomplished warrior they could no longer publicly shame.

“I should have thanked Latrielle for one other thing.”

“What’s wrong, Princess?”

“Ever since he made me a commander, the palace has grown a lot... quieter.”

“I see...”

But evil was known to fester when forced to the shadows. Their contempt could no longer be vocalized, but the countless eyes fixed upon them as though they were demons sent a shiver down Regis’s spine.

So Altina was raised in a place like this.

He felt as though he had finally figured out what had been bothering him for so long. A royal like Altina resented the current state of the Belgarian Empire and sympathized with its people. A wonderful thing, surely, but he had questioned whether her mother being a commoner was really enough to explain those emotions.

But now he could see it.

How could she ever side with the nobles who had so strongly, openly and unreasonably made her life the subject of their scorn and hatred? If anything, they were the strange ones. Perhaps this feeling toward them had turned to misgivings about the very system of aristocracy, which then grew into an interest in politics, sprouted sympathy toward the oppressed, and finally came together as Altina’s ambition.

Regis started to piece it together.

“Hm? Did you notice something funny?” Altina called over.

“...Yes... This is the house where you grew up, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“...I have a feeling I’ll come to understand you a lot more intimately during our time here, Princess.”

“Wh-What are you talking about, Regis!?” Her cheeks flushed red. “Don’t you find it embarrassing to say something like that so publicly?”

“Eh?”

She leaned in close and whispered into his ear:

“Why, I... At least allow me to introduce you to Father first...”

“...Calm down, Altina. I don’t really follow, but if you’re suggesting something as terrifying as a commoner being introduced to His Majesty, I must politely decline,” Regis whispered back.

Altina’s room was situated midway down the north wing of the palace. The room next door was meant for servants, and would ordinarily be used by Clarisse, but...

“It would be inconvenient to have you too far away, so you two can take this room. Clarisse, you don’t mind staying with me, do you?”

“I would be happy to, Princess.”

“That really helps out with my guard job, too.” Even Eric was on board.

In the various inns they had stayed at during their journey to the capital, Regis and Eric had slept alongside Abidal-Evra and his men. Only having two to a room afforded them a bed each, which was more than sufficient; there was no reason to decline.

✧ ✧ ✧

By the time they arrived at their rooms, noon was already knocking at the door. Lunch was being prepared in the dining hall, and meals could be ordered on demand by simply asking the servants. However, Altina had proposed they go into town instead.

“Let’s go see the steam locomotive!”

Regis and Eric accompanied her. Clarisse, on the other hand, opted to stay behind, mentioning that she had to prepare their rooms as they hadn’t been used in quite some time.

Altina appeared to be in her element as she put on a robe, covered her hair with cloth, and slipped through the back gate. Her movements were somewhat mechanical, as though she had done this a hundred times before.

This year, the Belgarian Empire would be opening its first railroad. A steam engine was currently making short test runs between the capital and the neighboring town of Cinq Jouel.

The train had been made in High Britannia, a queen-led monarchy once known for producing tea and fine art. In more recent years, however, interest in these commodities had been well overshadowed by the revolutionary advancements High Britannia had made in industrial technology.

Could this sudden influx of advanced technology be in any way linked to their large purchases of tea from the far east?

High Britannia was a country so small in comparison to the Empire that very few acknowledged them as a threat. Only those who were politically informed realized just how dangerous they were.

In response, the Empire had made efforts to increase the number of Belgarian exchange students studying in High Britannia in a desperate attempt to partake in their technological developments. But who knew whether the Empire would ever be able to catch up...

Regis believed that High Britannia was a country to be wary of, and his anxieties only grew stronger when he saw the steam locomotive.

“It’s incredible, Regis!” Altina innocently exclaimed, “It’s so big—incredibly big! And black! And it makes such a loud noise!”

“...It really does.”

“I want to go for a ride!”

“...That’ll have to wait for another time. There’s no guarantee you’ll even be able to catch the train coming back.”

Not only was this train cutting-edge technology, but there was a festival going on. As such, business was booming.

When he eventually pried the captivated princess away from the locomotive, Regis popped into the book store he had used to patronize every day back when he lived in the capital, and exchanged some words with the storekeeper, Carol.

Then, in search of a late lunch, Regis attempted to enter a restaurant he had used to frequent called La Taverne... though it seemed to have since become an epicenter for political discussion. Industrialists and professors, among other intellectuals, ranted over one another with newspapers in hand.

“The treasury has already hit rock bottom, and the emperor welcomes his sixth consort with yet another extravagant ceremony! Then there was that birthday party for another of his consorts, and now the anniversary of our nation’s founding! When will the reckless spending end!?”

“The tax collected from the commoners is being frittered away to fund nobles’ dinner parties! How can such lunacy be acceptable!?”

A hot-blooded youth threw his fist into the air. “This country needs freedom and equality!”

Regis was left standing stock-still in the doorway. Altina, with her hair covered up, had quite the anxious look on her face. It would be terribly troublesome if her true identity came to light here.

“...This used to be a place where you could sit down for a quiet meal,” Regis sighed, “but perhaps we’d be better off going back to the palace.”

And so Regis urged Altina and Eric back through the front door of La Taverne.

✧ ✧ ✧

They arrived back at the palace just as the sun brushed the horizon to the west.

The district northeast of the palace was used by the servants, who could be seen rushing about in preparation for dinner and the upcoming festivities. The sight reminded Regis of soldiers scrambling across a battlefield.

In order to reach the palace grounds, Regis, Eric, and Altina had needed to pass through an entrance blocked by several sentries. Though the guards had seemed somewhat wary of the concealed princess, the fact that the two young men accompanying her were clad in military uniforms meant that the trio were permitted entry with relative ease.

The clamor of the city streets grew distant as they passed through the back garden, past the terrace, and into the palace.

Soon they arrived at a room inside the northern tower. Fine, intricate patterning decorated the wooden floor; simple yet sophisticated murals carved from stone decorated the walls; and above each window rested a pair of expertly embroidered curtains. The ceiling was a brilliant, metallic gold, and from it hung a gemstone-encrusted chandelier that glimmered in the light of the setting sun.

Regis unintentionally let out a gasp of amazement. By the palace’s standards, this was no more than a relatively modest room situated in its most run-down wing.

Altina dropped her cloak to the ground and unwrapped the cloth that had been hiding her hair. She was back to her usual, modest dress. As long as she looked like this, there would be no reason for the patrolling guards to stop the trio as they made their way back to their rooms.

They stepped out into the hall, the walls around them crammed with various pieces of art, and set course for the palace center.

“I’m sorry, Princess. I hadn’t meant to lead you somewhere so... crass.”

“It’s fine, Regis. I went out fully aware that I might see things like that,” Altina responded, “Besides, nothing bad would have happened with Eric there.”

Eric wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Y-Yes, of course. But I have to admit, it was still pretty nerve-wracking.”

“Mn? Isn’t that...”

Altina reached a hand toward her hip as she glanced down the corridor. But her fingers grasped nothing but air.

Her sword, the Grand Tonnerre Quatre, was usually sheathed at her waist, but the sight of a young girl carrying such a massive blade would have drawn too much attention in town. For that reason, she had decided to leave it behind.

Eric stepped forward, having noticed Altina’s gesture. He poised his hand to draw, only to freeze on the spot.

“Huh!? T-That person... Could it be...?”

Shambling down the corridor was a silver-haired man. His small, slender build was like that of a delicate lass, and his height was roughly around the same as Regis’s. He wore a well-tailored military uniform and, while no medals adorned his chest, the man’s status was made clear by the jewel-encrusted longsword dangling from his hip.

“Auguste!” Altina called out.

Rather than the person she called out to, it was his attendant—a tall, black-haired man—who reacted.

He came forward half a step, and touched his right hand to his left chest in salute.

“Why, if it isn’t Lady Argentina.”

“Oh, so Eddie’s with you too. What’s with this ‘lady’ nonsense? Just talk to me how you usually would.”

“Ah, thanks for that,” said the black-haired man, “I’m not so good with all the formal stuff.”

Regis had previously had some idea who the man was, but the red longsword at his hip—and the fact that Altina had just addressed him by name—made it all too clear.

This was Duke Eddie Fabio de Balzac.

The house of Balzac was famed for its extraordinary swordsmanship, its first leader having apparently served as the right-hand man to L’Empereur Flamme himself. As proof, they had been granted the seventh treasured sword of the Empire.

There could be no doubt about it—the longsword at Eddie’s hip was the Défendre Sept (The Emperor’s Safeguard VII).

This man was the grandson to Balthazar, the one who had trained Altina in how to use a sword. Judging by the way he spoke to the princess, it appeared they were not particularly hostile to one another. But Auguste was considered one of Altina’s political enemies—why would she be on such good terms with his attendant?

“Let me introduce you!” Altina placed a firm hand on Regis’s shoulder. “This is my tactician, Regis.”

“A-Ah...” Regis stammered, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Fifth-Grade Administrative Officer Regis Aurick.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you!” The black-haired man grinned. “The pleasure’s all mine, Mr. Regis. You can call me Eddie.”

At those words, he extended his hand toward Regis for a handshake.

A duke reaching out to a commoner? Regis had heard this man had an affable personality, and his actions only seemed to reinforce those rumors.

Regis reached toward Eddie in turn, his fingers trembling uncontrollably as they shook hands.

“...Right... I hope we get along.”

Eddie’s expression turned pensive for a moment. “Hm. Do you think I’ve put him on edge?” he muttered, now looking rather dejected.

The silver-haired man elbowed him gently in the flank. “Of course you have, you halfwit.”

“Ah... In that case, my apologies.” Eddie bowed his head.

“Argentina...” spoke the silver-haired man, “It’s been quite some time.”

The princess paused for a moment. “Erm... You’re... Auguste, right?”

“Of course I am.” The first prince, Carlos Liam Auguste de Belgaria, spoke with blatant discontent.

Altina’s face twisted into a look of pure bewilderment.

“Haven’t you... shrunk?”

“H-How in the world would I have shrunk!? Th-The very nerve!”

“And it sounds like your voice is just a tad higher than usual...”

“...!?”

Eddie stepped in. “Well, you see, Argentina... Mr. Auguste has been through quite a lot since he collapsed from his illness.”

“Oh, really? Well, that’s fine; we have much to talk about, so there’s not much point lingering on the matter. Hey, by the way—” Altina prodded her index finger into Eddie’s chest. “Why are you accompanying Auguste?”

Eddie awkwardly averted his eyes. “I’m working as Mr. Auguste’s guard. Were you not aware?”

“It’s news to me.”

This wasn’t something Regis had heard about either. Such information very rarely reached the border. They were only informed of major events, such as the prince’s villa being burned down.

“...Come to think of it... I heard you were attacked by bandits, Prince Auguste,” Regis asked, hoping to lure the prince into revealing more about the incident.

“Indeed. Latrielle provided the funds, while Lieutenant General Baudouin masterminded the attack,” Auguste responded without hesitation, “Though I must admit, I don’t have any evidence to prove it.”

Auguste’s declaration had been delivered with such clear conviction that Regis found himself rather flustered. It seemed the rumors were true, after all.

Eddie nodded meekly in agreement.

“Mr. Latrielle has a very clear agenda; it really is quite bothersome. Argentina, while I don’t believe he’ll target you this time, you should be careful nonetheless.”

“Well, I never, ever let my guard down in the palace, so there’s nothing to worry about. How have you been, Eddie? Does the fact you’re protecting the prince mean you’ve finally mustered the resolve to strike down your foes? You never used to be too good around blood...”

“Yeah, can’t say that’s changed much. It’s hopeless. Just can’t seem to get over it... Not that you were any better.”

“I-I can draw blood when I have to! ...I think.”

Regis looked around warily. Passing nobles seemed to eye them with curiosity.

Altina, who had been banished to the country’s border, and Auguste, who had refused to leave his residence since the attempt on his life—to see them both together having a friendly chat was a rare and unexpected sight, for sure.

That said, allowing them to speak for too long would risk crucial information being leaked. In fact, the statement Auguste had just made could prove quite problematic if anyone were to question them on it.

“...Princess,” Regis interjected, “we must prepare for dinner.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. I can’t help but feel on edge around here.”

Had she noticed her surroundings as well?

Altina raised a hand to Auguste.

“Well then, dear brother, let us meet again at dinner.”

Auguste nodded. “All right. Take care.”

The two passed by one another and continued down the corridor in opposite directions. For a moment, Eric stood in place, his eyes simply focused on Auguste’s back. Then, having snapped back to his senses, the young knight hurried to catch up to the leaving Altina.

Eric apologetically bowed his head. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“...Was something wrong?”

“Ah, no, err... It’s nothing.”

✧ ✧ ✧

Altina went for dinner. As the party hadn’t started just yet, she had opted to wear the standard attire for a noble: a rather common one-piece dress, an abundance of decorative cloth bound at its waist.

Regis, Eric, and Clarisse did not accompany her. Instead, their food was brought over to the servants’ room, where the trio would eat before the princess returned. From the moment it arrived, it was clear that considerable care and money had gone into the cooking—not only for the main dish, but the hors d’oeuvres as well.

“Is it... really okay for us to eat this?” Regis wondered aloud.

“I’m not sure about you, Mr. Regis, but Sir Eric here is a noble,” remarked Clarisse.

What’s this? Regis sensed an unmissable change in the woman’s behavior. She barely ever spoke in the presence of others, and yet... Perhaps by being around Eric for a while, she had started to warm up to him.

Eric’s face was touched with red as the conversation suddenly focused on him.

“We’re as low as viscounts can get,” Eric said dismissively, “My position means practically nothing here in the imperial palace.”

“...Perhaps they’re trying to suck up to the princess’s subordinates...” Regis rested a finger across his lips in thought. “I really don’t want to believe such extravagant meals are served to all the common folk in the palace.”

Not only the appearance, but the taste was superb. Seafaring technology had certainly advanced dramatically in recent years, but black pepper was still considered a high-class luxury item. Yet these dishes showed no restraint in its use.

Regis quickly fell silent, focusing every fiber of his being on enjoying the generous meal.

It was around then that someone knocked on the door.

“Who could it be? Don’t tell me there’s another course...”

However, before the words had even passed Regis’s lips, Clarisse had already risen to her feet. As she unlatched the lock, Eric’s hand cautiously hovered over his sword.

The door opened, and in burst Altina.

“Regis!”

“Huh!? Princess...?”

“Please, oh please— just address me how you usually do!”

She bumped him aside with her shoulder, knocking him with so much force that he quite nearly toppled from his seat. Altina then planted her rear into the slight opening she had made beside him.

They were now sharing a seat.

“Wh-What!?”

“I... I just can’t take it anymore!”

“Alt— Err, I mean, Princess—”

“Oh, what does it matter now!? Eric’s going to be with us from now on anyway. It just drives me mad.”

From the look on Eric’s face, it was clear he had no idea why his name had been so suddenly brought up. He hadn’t done anything wrong, and surely had no idea what was going on.

It seemed like it would be impossible for Regis to continue concealing his relationship with Altina from Eric. He resigned himself and groaned.

“Hah... Err... Truth be told, Eric... This is rather hard to say, and I wouldn’t want you to misunderstand, but—”

“I’m no good with all the formal stuff! That’s why I’ve told Regis he has to speak more casually around me and call me by my nickname.”

“...Personally, I think protocol should be respected, and rumors of a scandal with a commoner would impact troop morale... But as my duty here includes looking after the princess’s wellbeing...”

“For God’s sake! I order you to address me how you normally do!”

“Erh... Um... A-Altina...”

“Ehehe.” Her cheeks flushed red.

Eric hung his head, looking as though he might pass out on the spot.

“M-Meaning... Regis—you and the princess... err... share a love that transcends station!?”

“Wrong.” Regis responded immediately, prompting Altina to shove him aside using her hip. He was finally forced from the chair entirely. “...Wh-What was that for, Altina?”

“This seat is rather comfortable. I want it. Regis, wouldn’t you prefer to eat on the balcony? The breeze is lovely.”

“...If possible, I’d rather eat inside; it’s freezing out there. Is this a noble thing? I’m not sure I understand the appeal...”

Regis ducked away, completely unable to comprehend why Altina was suddenly in such a bad mood. Concluding that there was no way he could rectify the situation, Regis simply pulled up another chair.

Clarisse took Regis’s plate and cutlery from in front of Altina and placed it where he was now seated. She then prepared a brand-new plate for the princess.

“You can’t expect much, Princess... This is Mr. Regis we’re talking about.”

“Yup! This is Regis’s fault, no doubt about that!”

“...What’s going on here?”

To his side, Eric let out a quiet giggle. Mere moments ago he had been wearing an expression suited for someone who had experienced the depths of hell, yet now he was positively beaming.

“You two are like brother and sister. That’s a relief.”

“...I’d rather we be like a commander and her tactician...” Regis mumbled, “But whatever the case, having any baseless rumors spread would trouble us both. Please keep this a secret.”

“I swear on my honor.”

While remaining seated, Eric half drew his sword as he took a knight’s oath.

“Thank you. Now then, Altina—why did you come back? What happened to dinner?”

Tonight was supposed to be the royal family’s first dinner together in quite a long time.

“Right, right! Regis, listen to this!”

“I’m listening.”

“Father had a brand-new consort!”

“...Yes, I heard the ceremony took place while we were attacking Fort Volks... The sixth consort. If rumors are to be believed, she only just turned fifteen.”

This would make her younger than not just Auguste and Latrielle, but even Bastian. The consort was barely any older than Altina. It wasn’t rare for an imperial noble to take a new wife younger than his son, but...

“And she was sitting next to Father at dinner! It’s like she’s his wife!”

“Th-That’s going to be problematic... The sixth was, err... Princess Estaburg, was it? The daughter of a foreign king. Perhaps she prides herself as being higher than the nobles.”

“The atmosphere was unbearable! With how tense things were between the empress and this new consort, I could barely even breathe.”

“That must have been tough...”

“That’s why I downed my aperitif—though mine was only juice—and snuck out!”

“You should go back!”

“No way, no way, no way! I’m not spending another second in there!”

“...Hah, I suppose it’s too late to do anything about it now... You’ll be at tomorrow’s party though, won’t you?”

“Hell no!!”

“...Altina. Abidal-Evra has carried out his duty by escorting you here. Now it’s time for you to fulfill yours.”

“Y-Yeah. I was only joking... Of course I’ll do it. I will. Just not today. Anything but that.”

“...Okay. Tomorrow is where it counts, anyway. Our journey was a long one, so tonight you can focus on relieving any stress.”

“Ah, sounds good!” Altina reached for her knife and fork. “Ahaha, now that’s off my mind, I’m suddenly feeling really hungry. Nom—oh, this is delicious!”

“...We should eat as well,” Regis said, receiving an agreeing nod from Clarisse and Eric.

✧ ✧ ✧

When the meal was over, Altina and Clarisse retired to their room. It was still too soon to sleep, but they were surely worn out from the journey.

Around half an hour after that, there was another knock on the door. It seemed there would be quite a few visitors tonight.

This time, Eric answered the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Clarisse. I brought tea.”

“Oh, come right in.”

The door opened to reveal Clarisse standing with a tray in her hands. She entered and placed the tea set on the table.

Regis had already changed into his pajamas, kicking back as he read a book. He lowered his head gratefully, though his eyes didn’t move from the page.

“Thank you, Ms. Clarisse. I was just getting thirsty.”

“It’s no trouble. Tea tastes better with company.”

“I see... Where’s Altina? Is she already asleep?”

“The princess will not be attending.”

“Eh? What do you mean?”

“A messenger from Latrielle arrived a moment ago and handed over a letter. Immediately after that, the princess made herself presentable and headed out.”

“...What!?” exclaimed Regis.

“Wh-Where did she go!?” spluttered Eric.

Naturally, both men went pale.

“She did not take her overcoat, so I presume she is somewhere in the palace.”

“Why didn’t you tell—!!” Eric swallowed his words before his tone grew harsh.

Clarisse was a maid, neither an aide nor a guard. It was shameful to speak on her master’s private life unless prompted.

“Thank you for telling us, Clarisse,” Regis said, standing as he placed his book on the table.

“Oh no, there’s no need to thank me. The princess didn’t ask me to keep quiet.”

That made sense—Clarisse never would have mentioned what had happened had Altina asked her not to.

“I’m going to search for her!” Eric declared, making for the door. His sense of duty brought a look of desperation to his face.

“...Calm down, Eric,” said Regis, “As I told Altina before, we shouldn’t do anything reckless in the palace. Take care not to cause any problems that may worsen her position.”

“Ah, yes... Of course.” He straightened his clothing and exited with a bow.

Regis similarly changed into his military uniform. Doing so had put him in his undergarments before a woman, but this was an emergency situation where such things could be forgiven.

“...Did she bring her sword with her?”

“She did.”

“Then that means plenty of people must have seen her... That, or she’s somewhere she could have reached without being seen.”

“Do you have any idea where she could have gone, Mr. Regis?”

“...Yeah. Books containing inaccurate depictions of the palace tend to earn a terrible reputation, so many authors take great care in these details. There are even a number of works written by nobles who have actually come by the palace.”

“I’m suddenly getting worried.”

“You did well to tell me. Don’t worry, you’re not betraying Altina. As you said, she never asked you to keep quiet.”

“...I’m very worried.”

“...Right. Latrielle may have his reputation to uphold, but going out without guards is much too dangerous.”

“Oh no, I’m not concerned about my princess.”

“Huh?”

“I’m worried that Mr. Regis won’t be of any use protecting the princess when he gets there.”

“...Oh, right. Well... I could at least call for help, don’t you think?”

“A splendid idea. I’m sure the princess will gladly save you.”

“H-Haha... That’s a relief.”

Clarisse’s dry sense of humor had managed to ease the panic swirling through Regis’s mind. Eric was a trained knight and was thus useful in combat, but Regis’s use depended on him having a clear head; if he raced out in a frenzy he would only become a burden.

Regis needed to handle this calmly. He made his rounds through the library in his head.

“...Hm, yes. There was a similar situation in Baron Vigvire’s Aroused in Darkness.”

“How lewd.”

“It-It-It’s not that sort of book!”

It wasn’t something he had ever really thought about, but now that she mentioned it, the title was definitely a bit embarrassing. Sure, the story did contain its fair share of trysts in the imperial palace, but it was a fine, upstanding mystery. Had they not completely ruined the plot by having the palace blast off into the skies at the very end, it would definitely have become a classic.

“...I’ll be off,” said Regis.

“Mr. Regis, the princess is unrivaled when it comes to swordplay, but she’s pure and innocent, and very easily fooled... After all the blatant animosity she’s had to endure, she’s become terribly weak to a smile.”

“...I understand.”

“And that’s what makes her so much fun to tease.”

“Hey!”

“I’m only joking. Please protect her. Make sure no bad adults pull the wool over her eyes.”

“...Right... Then I should very well start by protecting her from you.”

“Fufufu. I’d love to see you try.”

“You’re a tough nut to crack...” said Regis, offering Clarisse a small wave as he exited the room.

The palace was as large as a small city; the chances he’d find her by walking around at random were dreadfully low.

As Latrielle had thorough knowledge of every nook and cranny in the palace, he had surely chosen a perfect secret meeting place. And perfect secret meeting places were the ideal setting for romances about the palace.

Regis gently pushed the door to the Prometheus Chamber, opening it just a sliver.

The imperial palace stretched out in four directions, forming the shape of a cross. Altina’s room was midway down the north wing, the detached residence where Auguste lived was beyond its northern extremity, and the gate they had used to leave at noon was to the northeast.

This room was in the northernmost tower, facing the northwest courtyard. A balcony jutted out over the courtyard, the front of which was cloaked by trees. It didn’t get much sunlight as a result, and so wasn’t used during the winter months. It was much more desirable in the summer, when the shade from the branches made the balcony nice and cool. Unfortunately, during the chilly nights of early spring when the pale blue interior brought cold winds and streams to mind, it served as little more than a damper on the spirit.

The large windowed door leading to the balcony was open, the laced curtains on either side swaying in the wind.

Beyond them was the form of a red-haired girl in a blue dress, a large sword at her hip.

So she really was here! Regis gave thanks in his heart. Thank you, Baron Vigvire! I’ll gladly buy your next release, even if the castle does once again soar into the skies! No seriously, what was up with that!?

Whatever the case, loitering in the corridor would get him seen and captured by a soldier on patrol. And so Regis slipped into the room, careful not to make a sound.

His footwork was masterful, if he did say so himself. It seemed that spending day after day navigating a room littered with precarious piles of documents had some unexpected perks.

✧ ✧ ✧

Regis pressed himself against the wall of the dark room, straining to hear. He hoped the encounter wouldn’t escalate beyond idle chatter...

The wind ferried Altina’s and Latrielle’s voices right to his ear.

“Fufu... Yes, I recall.”

“Hm. You have not changed in the slightest, Argentina.”

“And I’m sure you’ve changed a lot, Latrielle... You’re speaking in a very strange manner. Are you supposed to be my grandfather?”

“Grandfath—!? ...I’m working hard so that others may deem me worthy to be the next emperor.”

“Well, it doesn’t suit you! So? What’s this all about? You didn’t summon me here to catch up on old times, did you?”

“Quite right. Argentina, I feel as though you’ve reached an age where you can truly understand the realities of our world.”

“Naturally. I’m nearly fifteen.”

“I must rebuild the Empire. For now, our sheer size allows us to win wars by numbers. But if heavy taxation were to crush the populace, our war fronts would very well collapse.”

“Hm...” Altina sounded impressed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I never took you as someone who’d consider the struggles of the common folk.”

“I’m not a fool. No matter how high and mighty the aristocrats may carry themselves, allowing a spirit of rebellion to foster among the people would lead to our nation’s downfall. There are more than a hundred thousand men in the imperial army, but the populace outnumber them several times over.”

“That’s right! The people are nearing their limit. That’s why we need to put a stop to their exploitation!”

“Yes, we must cut down heavily on expenses.” Latrielle nodded under the moonlight.

Altina’s expression brightened up. There was nothing more wonderful to her than the thought that Latrielle shared her ideals. While Regis found some of his actions rather questionable, Latrielle was definitely the closest to becoming emperor.

“This is what I think: we need to cut down on the aristocrats’ luxurious lifestyles, and keep Belgaria from engaging in unnecessary wars. We should pull back to easily defensible terrain.”

“Pulling back the war fronts is impossible.”

“Eh? Why?”

“If we chose to avoid war, how many people would lose their livelihoods? Not only soldiers; those who train them, those who transport them, those who forge their weapons, those who support them... The scope of war must be maintained at a uniform level across the whole empire. That is precisely why we establish multiple war fronts.”

“Y-You can’t...!” Altina raised her voice.

Latrielle glanced around cautiously. It was the night before the festival, and he could hear music and conversation from both the town and the palace. A single raised voice probably wouldn’t garner much attention.

“Latrielle, I don’t think that’s right.”

“The economic structure of our empire is dependent on war. You can stop the nobles from spending recklessly, admonish the commoners for idle hands, contain the losses in battle... but you cannot stop war itself.”

“But people are dying...”

“We can’t have over three hundred thousand unemployed.”

“That—”

“Listen to me, Argentina. As it is now, the Empire won’t survive for much longer. We’ve been pushed to the brink. But I have no authority to restrain the nobles. I’ve barely assured control over the army, and even that will easily be snatched away from me the moment I lose the support of those close to the emperor.”

“Father’s associates? His ministers?”

“Correct. As well as the grand chamberlain, and, though they don’t officially hold positions, his old high noble friends who often show at his banquets. If the words of those closest to him cause the emperor to have a change of heart, my standing will crumble in an instant.”

“Even our father wouldn’t do that, would he? Without you as its commander, who will unite the army?”

“There are many who have their eyes on my position. When you get as high as marshal general, succession through marriage is very much possible.”

“Eh? Really?”

“......”

That was something Regis was aware of. When an emperor had only daughters, it was possible for an empress to come to power. But it was also a precedent for the most talented man—namely the highest ranked man in the military—to be taken in as a son, in turn becoming the next emperor.

At the time, the position of marshal general did not exist, so it was the commander of the First Army who would be chosen. He would then succeed the throne the moment the legitimate daughter turned fifteen. As it was the commander’s son who would carry the imperial blood, the commander was treated as the emperor’s proxy.

Whatever the case, Auguste was sickly, so as long as someone could take down Latrielle and secure full command of the army, that person would have a chance at the throne.

“In the end, my authority is almost inconsequential. It goes no further than directing troops on the battlefield.”

Surely the right to move a hundred thousand men is far from inconsequential, thought Regis. But Latrielle was right that it wasn’t enough to stop the nobles from spending or to change the country.

The only one who could achieve that was the emperor.

“Ah.” Altina made a sound as if she realized something. “In that case... don’t tell me the one who’d be expected to become the adopted son’s wife... is me!?”

“I would think so. You are the oldest of the emperor’s daughters.”

“Gnn...”

Even if such a marriage would make her empress, if a military man with such a strong lust for power became emperor, it would be impossible to rid the country of war. It was a very bleak outlook for the future—for Altina in particular.

“Though there is one other... Auguste’s younger sister. She’s even more sickly than her brother, so I hear she’s been bedridden at the villa.”

“Felicia, was it? How should I put it... She never wanted to play with me when we were younger, so I can hardly remember her.”

“...That’s because she only had the strength of a normal child. Any games that involved picking up cattle were out of the question.”

“Bastian was the one who did that. I was the one who returned them to their pens,” responded Altina rather matter-of-factly. Then, she seemed to come to a sudden realization. “...Felicia... Felicia, eh...? The silver-haired... Surely it can’t be?”

Latrielle narrowed his eyes.

“Now do you understand what path this country must take? Do you understand why I need to become emperor?”

“Well, dear brother, I at least understand your point of view.”

“...Pff.”

“What?”

“No, my apologies... It’s just been so long since anyone called me that.”

“Mn? Ah, we were talking about the past so I guess it just slipped out. You’re just Latrielle. Yes, Latrielle is more than enough for you.”

Mleh. Altina stuck out her tongue.

She was surely the only one in the Empire who could do that to the second prince, and supreme commander of the Belgarian Army.

“Fufu... Next, let’s talk about you, Argentina... Your situation is very different from how it was half a year ago. I’m sure you recall that the Empire has two factions: one supporting Auguste, and the other supporting me.”

“And that’s what’s making it so hard to decide the next emperor, right? A real bother, that is.”

“Then do you know about the undecided column?”

“You mean the ones who don’t support either?”

Latrielle nodded. It seemed Altina wasn’t too knowledgeable about them. Regis knew a thing or two about the divisions in the palace, but wasn’t aware of any recent developments.

“There are undecided parties in the military and among the aristocracy. They have begun to move to form a third faction supporting you, Argentina. Though they have yet to make a clear proclamation.”

“Huh!?”

“Auguste is feeble, and there are too many dark rumors surrounding me... In which case, they need to search out someone else.”

“What about the third prince?”

“About three months ago, just as we were ringing in the new year, he went off to study abroad in High Britannia.”

“Mrh... So he ran away.”

“He did always distance himself from the power struggle. Perhaps he sensed he was likely to get dragged in. I have nothing but apprehension about sending that rude, ignorant and selfish brother of ours to a country so strict about good manners, but...”

“I’ve heard you could shoot him and he still wouldn’t die. He’ll come back alive.”

“...Really?”

“He told me once that he’s dodged his fair share of bullets.”

Regis wasn’t sure that was what he had meant. No matter though—if Altina and Latrielle were just going to stand around and chat, there was no reason for Regis to stay any longer.

...But Latrielle then said something he couldn’t ignore.

“Whatever the case, the third faction that supports you has grown too large to ignore. Were I to combine them with my side, I would no doubt be able to take the throne. The emperor’s close aides are among them.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Argentina, will you be my queen?”

“......!?”

Altina was petrified, a dubious expression plastered over her face.

Regis quite nearly raised his voice in disapproval, but barely managed to cover it and contain himself. He had never expected Latrielle to make such a proposition.

Regis had considered a similar option not too long ago—an engagement to the sickly Prince Auguste as a means of changing the country. But he had discarded it, unable to think of any way to actually put such a scheme into practice.

Had he not already considered it himself, perhaps Regis really would have called out in shock.

So this is why he tried to win her over. He’s trying to absorb the third faction through Altina. I can finally see why she became so popular in the capital—Latrielle must have really fired them up.

Something had simply felt off about Altina’s reputation climbing so high after capturing but a single fortress, no matter how impregnable it was. The only reason Fort Volks had been allowed to remain in enemy hands for so long was because it wasn’t valuable enough to make it worth the time and money an attack would have required. Had it been an enemy stronghold important enough to decide the fate of the nation, Belgaria would have mobilized one hundred thousand, or perhaps even two hundred thousand, soldiers to take it down.

There was no doubt that Latrielle had herded those who were undecided into supporting Altina, creating a third faction he could then manipulate.

Latrielle’s plan is simple, Regis thought, He’s eliminating his political opponents.

On paper, Bastian had gone to study abroad. In actuality, he had run away. And, had everything gone to plan, Altina would have fallen from grace following a crushing defeat at Fort Volks. Perhaps she would have even died in battle.

Once they were both out of the picture, there would be no other successors for the neutral parties to support.

All he would have to do then was bring the first prince to an untimely end, or have him lose his standing completely. No matter how indecisive the emperor was, under such circumstances he would have to concede the throne. There would be no other viable options.

But neither Auguste nor Altina had been removed from the equation. Latrielle’s plan had failed.

Perhaps he was beginning to panic. As things currently stood, were the emperor to die, the crown would be passed on to Auguste who was next in line to the throne. And while the emperor was currently in good enough health to take a new consort, he was old enough that his passing would come as no surprise.

As Altina had returned from Fort Volks with unexpected results, Latrielle’s intentions changed from eliminating her to taking advantage of her.

If she accepted his marriage proposal, it would all be over. And so Regis mustered the courage to speak up...

...but an amused laugh stopped him before he even made a sound.

“Ahahahahah! What are you on about, Latrielle!?”

“...Hm.”

“Aha... Hahahah! I never thought you’d say something like that. That was the sort of joke Clarisse would make.”

“I’m not sure who that is... but I’m too old to horse around. I think we both stand to benefit from the arrangement.”

“Oh, sure—we’ll both benefit. Is that any way to propose to a lady?”

“...Though unusual under any other circumstances, the church permits those in the royal family to marry their siblings. There would be no legal issues.”

“So you’re serious?”

“Naturally.”

“That just makes it even worse!”

Altina advanced a few paces toward Latrielle, grasping the Grand Tonnerre Quatre hanging from her waist. Then, she released the clasp over her shoulder and swiped her sword.

As the sword was longer than she was tall, it was impossible for her to draw it from a normal scabbard. For this reason she wore a custom-made one, which was designed in such a way that it could be removed with a single swipe.

“What are you trying to do?” frowned Latrielle.

“I don’t believe you! You say that war is necessary for our country, but that’s the complete opposite of what Regis told me.”

“So you’ll trust that strategist over me... A low-ranking officer over an imperial prince, a general, your own brother. Is he really that great of a tactician? He didn’t look so wise to me...”

“Yes, he does look somewhat unreliable...”

Regis felt as though he should be apologizing for something.

“But he would never lie to me! He told me that putting an end to war would benefit the nation!”

Regis recalled that this was something they had talked about in the carriage several months ago. Had she remembered it and believed his words all this time?

Latrielle sighed. His tone warped, now akin to the voice one would use to pacify a bad-tempered child.

“That man is in no position to manage the Empire’s finances. If he knew the reality of our situation, perhaps his thoughts would change.”

“Don’t write him off so easily! If you become emperor, I won’t be able to do a thing no matter what I believe. I believe in Regis... If it weren’t for him, then I’d still be little more than a political prisoner in Fort Sierck. No, perhaps I’d have even died at Fort Volks!”

“It was wrong of me to make that command. I’ll apologize for that. But for the good of the Empire, won’t you let bygones be bygones and support me?”

“I’ll support you if you can promise me the war will end.”

“It’s not as if I enjoy pointless conflict.”

“Then will you order a retreat to a more defensible position?”

“...That is a possibility. It will take some time, though.”

“Hm. Then proclaim it before the nobles and His Majesty at tomorrow’s banquet. Then I’ll trust you.”

Altina pinned the prince with a cold glare, and he fell silent with a pensive look on his face.

“...There is a time and place for such a proclamation. Please understand, dear sister.”

As she lowered the tip of her sword, Altina’s tone turned harsh.

“...You’ve always treated me like a child... Ever since I was born. You’ve never taken me seriously!”

She lunged toward him.

Is she really going to cut him down!? Regis was sure his heart would stop. Latrielle must have expected her move, as his expression didn’t change—he looked as though he was still mid-conversation.

And, the next moment, he vanished into thin air. Or at least, that was how it looked to Regis. Even though his vision from his hiding place was obscured, their figures illuminated by no more than the pale moonlight, he could tell that Latrielle’s movements were abnormal. Inhuman.

He closed the distance between himself and Altina in an instant.

“You really were going to stab me... How very thoughtless of you, Argentina.”

“We’ll settle this here and now! That should make things nice and easy.”

“How foolish.”

“Perhaps. But I’m not cruel enough to watch my men die, then blindly accept that’s how things have to be! You’re the one prolonging the war! You murderer!!”

“It is to protect the Empire. You need to understand that, Argentina.”

“Then I’ll defeat you and protect it myself!”

Altina swung her sword at Latrielle. It sliced through the balcony railing with ease before crashing down into the stone floor.

Her upper left arm had been fractured for quite some time, but it was clear she had made a full recovery; her swing was even faster and more powerful than it had been in her duel with Jerome.

The large, naked edge encroached on Latrielle. There was nowhere he could go; he was backed up against the balcony railing, and as they were on the second floor—which was even higher than the third floor of a normal building—jumping down to escape wasn’t an option.

“You’re not listening to reason,” Latrielle sighed. He caught the horizontal slash with his one-handed single-edged sword, and the clash of metal echoed through the room. Regis had read about this blade before—it was the Armée Victoire Volonté.

Not only did Latrielle catch the attack, he repelled it.

“You’ve grown strong, Argentina.”

“E-Erk...”

“I heard you were trained by Sir Balthazar... This era has brought with it many far more powerful swordsmen. Had you been a man, perhaps you could have even been taught by the imperial instructor instead.”

“In battle, the most important thing is having the perseverance to win!!”

Having been forced into a more unfavorable position, Altina launched a kick aiming straight for Latrielle’s gut. But he simply raised his knee to block the attack.

As the princess’s posture crumbled, Latrielle took a step toward her.

“I don’t mean to slight the contributions of the House of Balzac, but... the art of swordplay is forever evolving. Nowadays, such a reckless kick would be considered a terrible move!”

“Perseverance!!”

Even as her balance crumbled, Altina fired off another kick. She had managed to take him by surprise this time, and her foot sunk into his abdomen.

However, high-ranking officials and commissioned officers had the areas of their uniforms covering vital areas reinforced with leather. Such a shallow kick wasn’t enough to give her a decisive advantage, but the brief moment he faltered gave Altina enough time to reposition herself.

“I’ve still got some fight in me!” she yelled.

“What an incorrigible sister you are.”

Latrielle appeared to vanish once more, closing the gap in an instant.

“...!?”

“Hmph. Have you never seen footwork like that before?” he scoffed, bringing down his saber in an elegant arc. It was impossible to follow his blade with the naked eye; the only indication of contact was the sudden clatter of metal as Altina raised her sword to block, catching Latrielle’s blade at eye level.

But before she could even react, a second razor-sharp cut nicked her lower body.

“Hyau!?”

The saber sliced through her skirt, just narrowly missing flesh.

“Have your opponent defend against a strike from above, then slice their braced legs. Normally, the battle would end there and then... Humans are quick to block when their head is under threat, but their own arms and sword obscure their vision, delaying their reaction to the next attack.”

“You...!”

Altina swung her greatsword, which Latrielle again dodged effortlessly.

“The sword fighting style practiced by the House of Balzac was fashioned around heavy armor users, so does not utilize a full range of motion. It is a defensive style. You’re not using your legs to their fullest.”

Latrielle kicked off of the balcony floor, the stone grating beneath his feet.

He pushed forward into a sharp lunge. Altina managed to deflect at the last possible second, but this didn’t slow Latrielle’s momentum; he circled around her, and before she could even turn to face him, his sword was already closing in on her once more.

“Kuh!!”

Altina twisted her sword, blocking the attack with its long hilt.

“Hmph. How resourceful. Did you learn that from Sir Balthazar as well?”

“Hyaaaah!!”

She swung back the Grand Tonnerre Quatre with all her might, ready to step forward into a devastating blow. But Latrielle thrust his own sword out, countering before she even had the chance to strike.

“You don’t need such a large swing to take down your opponent. Just watch their movements, then place your sword where they’re about to move to. That’s all you need to land your blow, for blood to flow, and for your foe to perish.”

“Urrgh...” Altina groaned.

A shiver ran down Regis’s spine. He swallowed dryly.

So this is the strength of the supreme commander... The man who leads over a hundred thousand troops...

He was so nervous that he was sure he could pass out at any second. Even so, he had to move. Steadying his trembling legs, Regis stepped forward.

“...P-Princess.”

“Eh!?”

Altina’s mouth dropped open, her expression blank and eyes opened wide. It was impossible to determine whether Latrielle was surprised or not. Regis was certain he had been listening in unnoticed... but the man appeared so unfazed that he was beginning to lose confidence.

“I’ve been searching all over for you, Princess... only to find you out in the night breeze. Were you talking with Prince Latrielle?”

“Me? Um... I was—”

“My apologies, Prince Latrielle. While I am fully aware of my discourtesy, the princess has just returned from a long voyage, and tomorrow is the ever-important anniversary of the founding of our great nation. While I may be out of place for saying so, I believe she should get some rest for the night.”

Latrielle’s lips curled into a discreet smile, and he returned the Armée Victoire Volonté to its scabbard.

“Fufu. I can imagine. I’ve droned on long enough.”

Regis offered a reverent bow while Altina moved to retrieve her own scabbard, which was lying in a corner on the balcony. She firmly bit her lip, eyes bleary.

“Urrgh...”

Latrielle stepped back inside, making his way through the room and toward the door.

“It’s not something I could act on straight away, but I shall consider your request. I await a favorable response, Argentina.”

As she watched his back disappear, Altina forced words through the lump in her throat. “Kuh... Don’t think you’ve won, Latrielle.”

✧ ✧ ✧

On her way back to her room, the princess groaned “I can’t stand this” around thirty times. As expected, Latrielle didn’t appear to have harmed her.

Regis sat Altina down, then slammed his hands against the table.

“Are you listening to me? Bravery and recklessness are completely different. Today, you have been imprudent, short-tempered and inconsiderate.”

“B-But you told me to face him.”

“...I didn’t tell you to physically attack him though. You fell victim to his cheap provocations. If the prince chose to pursue this, you could be locked up in an instant.”

“Erk!?”

“...He intends to increase your popularity and then use it for his own political gain. That’s the only thing that saved us this time. But as things stand, I don’t know how we can retaliate. You’re in the imperial palace, Altina. Not all problems can be resolved through combat. You should know that. Reflect on your actions.”

“...Was I too weak?”

“That’s not it. Had you actually landed a blow on Prince Latrielle back there, we’d be on the run from the Imperial Guard.”

“W-We would?”

“...Listen to me carefully. Swinging your sword around without a just cause makes you no better than a brigand. Is your grand ambition to kill your brother? Or is it to save the people?”

Altina clenched her hands over her lap, her head hung low.

“I... want to be the shield... that protects the people...”

“...I’ll believe in your words. If that’s how you really feel, then no matter how mistaken you think someone is, you have to refrain from drawing your sword unless you can demonstrate to the people that doing so was in the public interest. After all, misgovernment begins the moment a ruler disregards what is best for their subjects.”

“Got it.”

Was the palace’s political strife too heavy of a burden on the fourteen-year-old girl who prided herself on her brute strength? While she had shown her ability to think and act rationally, all reason went out the window the moment someone provoked her impulsive side.

“...This is my fault for losing the initiative,” Regis said remorsefully, “I’m sorry.”

“Eh!? Regis, you didn’t do anything wrong!”

“...The situation has surpassed what I’m capable of, but... I’ll do my best. Altina, please act in a way that doesn’t bring shame upon your role as a princess.”

“Got it.”

“I’m counting on you.”

“Um... Regis...?”

“What is it?”

“...I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“Y-Yeah... You should probably be saying that to Eric, not me.”

Not long after, the man in question returned, white as a sheet and drenched in sweat. Altina offered Eric an earnest apology, but he was so relieved to see her safe that he didn’t seem bothered at all. All the while, Clarisse brewed a new batch of tea.

While Regis had very little confidence in his ability as a strategist, he definitely carried a desire to protect these people.

He looked up at the full moon rising outside the window. They were on a losing streak at the moment.

“...It’s about time we find our opportunity to strike back.”