The Protagonist's Party is Too Diligent

Alice and Sylvia returned to the imperial palace the following evening.

It had only been three short days, but to Alice, Sylvia’s face looked more at ease than ever, as if she had finally let go of all her worries. It was a calm expression, one that spoke of complete peace of mind.

However, that sense of ease disappeared entirely when Sylvia changed back into her uniform just before reentering the palace.

Alice found herself wondering if the palace she thought of as home didn’t feel that way at all for Sylvia.

It was a thought that felt... somewhat foreign to Alice, a notion she had never before considered or questioned.

The imperial palace was, to Alice, unquestionably her home from the day she was born, and she had always assumed Sylvia must feel the same way.

But that wasn’t the case.

It seemed that Sylvia considered the Grace Estate—her first visit there—a more comfortable place.

And, strangely enough, Alice felt as though she understood why Sylvia might feel that way.

“Did you enjoy your time at the academy?”

Both Sylvia and Alice had entered to meet the Emperor, yet now it was only Alice and the Emperor speaking.

Perhaps because Alice was his blood?

It could be. Though Sylvia was more capable than Alice, and the Emperor was well aware of her potential as a successor to the throne, if he had chosen Alice as his heir, it was likely not due to her surpassing Sylvia, but rather because Sylvia had no desire to ascend the throne.

It was likely also due to Alice’s behavior before departing for the academy, if there were a specific reason.

However, even so, the Emperor’s demeanor differed when Alice and Sylvia were present together.

Though he treated them as “equal princesses” in words and actions, if one had to say whom he treated as his true daughter, it would surely be Alice.

“Yes, I enjoyed it,” Alice replied, recalling the Grace Estate. The baroness treated Leo and Claire equally. Perhaps it was because Claire, being female, was unlikely to inherit the Grace barony. Though she had been adopted based on her abilities, in the end, she was a girl.

Even if she retained the baron’s name, the best future for Claire was likely marriage into a good family. The barony wouldn’t suffer from seeing Leo and Claire as siblings.

But even when considering those reasons, the baroness acted as though Claire were truly her daughter. Except for occasional discussions of the orphans Claire grew up with, the fact that Claire was adopted was never overtly mentioned.

...Entrusted with assassination missions at a young age, nearly dispatched to battle before even entering the academy—

Would the Emperor have assigned Sylvia such tasks if he truly thought of her as his “child”? Was it truly out of trust that he did so?

Was Sylvia aware of this? Did she sense it?

“You seemed to enjoy your time with your sister.”

Yes, she had. Truly. She had even managed to forget the oppressive expectations tied to the throne from her childhood.

“What about Sylvia? Did she seem to be enjoying the academy?”

“...I believe so.”

“I see.”

The Emperor studied Alice carefully as he responded.

“She went to such lengths with her appearance for your plan, so she must have enjoyed her time with you there.”

Alice quietly gazed up at the Emperor.

She had a feeling she knew what he would say next.

“That time, the person we saw.”

The Emperor began to speak slowly, almost deliberately, as if to emphasize his words rather than from hesitation.

“Did Sylvia say anything about that robed figure?”

“No, she didn’t.”

If Sylvia had spoken to her about that figure’s identity... whoever it might have been, Alice would have been thrown into panic. Wrestling with her suspicions alone was entirely different from having them confirmed.

“Since then, has Sylvia... used her abilities, as far as you know?”

“...I’m not sure.”

Even if she had, Sylvia hadn’t spoken of it. Nor had Alice thought to ask.

The Emperor’s face bore its usual calm smile. Alice kept her gaze fixed on him, trying her best to maintain a neutral expression. She doubted she succeeded; if she could read Sylvia’s expressions, surely the Emperor’s skills were far superior. Alice didn’t consider herself better at concealing her emotions than Sylvia.

“Hmm.”

The Emperor looked down at her steadily.

“At that time, in that place.”

The Emperor resumed, carefully choosing his words.

“That figure, suspected of possessing the Relic, vanished in an instant. There was no indication of magic being cast or any device being used. Even after thoroughly searching, no other exits were found.”

When he leaned slightly toward Alice, his position above her made it seem as though he were towering over her.

In that position, his voice took on a subtle pressure.

“In that moment, Sylvia fell. No, to be accurate, she was already ‘collapsed.’ We hadn’t seen her fall. But from the bruises on her body and the torn collar of her clothing, we could infer that something had happened ‘in that moment.’”

The Emperor laid out each fact meticulously, as if deliberately placing each one in front of Alice.

“Did Sylvia truly not tell you anything about what happened that day?”

She hadn’t.

Alice hadn’t thought to ask, either.

But—

“She didn’t.”

Alice remembered.

For some reason, she alone recalled the battle that everyone else present seemed unable to remember.

Not in precise detail.

She remembered clearly the encounter with the figure. Even the ensuing fight.

But the battle itself was fractured. Whenever she thought she had struck him down with her blade, it turned out not to be so. When he seemed to be shot, that wasn’t the case either. The past and the future overlapped, as though it was somehow predestined that he would not die.

And yet, Alice distinctly remembered something impossible.

She remembered the moment he grabbed Sylvia’s collar.

She remembered the space warping and shattering as he finally began to bleed—

And then that memory abruptly broke off, leaving her in the moment the Emperor spoke.

So, what had happened?

She didn’t know. The figure had disappeared, and the Relic they had expected to find there had vanished as well.

Why was Alice the only one who remembered him?

She didn’t know.

“Sylvia has not mentioned anything yet.”

And neither had Alice.

“...”

Beyond her lowered head, she sensed the Emperor gazing at her intently. But she said nothing, simply waiting in silence.

“I see.”

At last, the Emperor spoke, and the pressure in the air dissipated.

“But there’s one thing we know for certain.”

A faint smile played on the Emperor’s lips, as if he found this all rather amusing.

“Sylvia cannot return to that moment in time. If it were possible, she would have erased the situation entirely. Whoever that robed figure was, he has, at the very least, provided us with one advantage.”

“Even if he took the Relic?”

“And what could he accomplish with it?”

“...”

With just a few fractured pieces, there was little one could do. Rumors and legends remained scattered around the world, but that was all. No one had ever managed to gather the entire Relic.

“But if he reappears to seize more—”

“He won’t appear so easily,” the Emperor said, chuckling.

“If he could, he would have gathered the Relic long ago. If his future of collecting it were already certain, well.” The Emperor shrugged.

“Then we would simply have to accept it as fate.”

Yet Alice knew that her father would never be one to yield to fate so easily.

“In any case, you’ve done well.”

Despite the weight of their conversation, the Emperor spoke as if their words were but a casual, everyday exchange.

“You must wish to spend time with your sister, and I’ve kept you here too long. You may go now.”

“...”

Alice gave the Emperor a slight bow and turned to leave the audience chamber.

But she could not shake the uneasy feeling that lingered deep within her heart.