The Protagonist's Party is Too Diligent

The royal capital of Lutetia was a beautiful city.

I already had a rough idea of the atmosphere from seeing it in the game. Compared to the heavily “modernized” imperial capital, Rondarium, it had an undeniably older, more classical feel.

Of course, even though Rondarium was considered “modernized,” it still looked ancient compared to Earth’s modern cities, with most of its buildings made of brick, and it lacked proper electrical or internet wiring. Well, electricity and the internet didn’t even exist in this world yet.

However, telephone lines were installed, as were fully buried water and sewage systems. Most notably, the city had a massive gas pipeline system that lit up street lamps consistently once night fell. There wasn’t any electrical system, so workers had to manually light the streetlamps as they patrolled, but it was still more convenient than carrying a torch around. Once the gas lamps were lit, they would stay on as long as the gas supply lasted, which was considered cutting-edge technology in this world.

...Though, coming from a world that primarily used electricity, this setup seemed incredibly dangerous to me. But I suppose it wasn’t that different from how things worked in similar historical periods back on Earth.

In contrast, Lutetia, which hadn’t yet undergone full modernization, still had workers carrying torches to light the streetlamps in areas beyond the train station. The water and sewage systems were only just starting to be installed, and the railways were still in the process of expanding nationwide.

Unlike Rondarium, where cars were slowly becoming more common, Lutetia officially only had three cars in total, all of which were imported from the Empire. Since even their parts had to be directly imported, only royalty had access to them. By the start of the main story next year, more companies would have begun selling cars, improving the situation, but it would still pale in comparison to the imperial capital.

But because of this, the sky in Lutetia was clear and blue.

While the city center was as densely packed as Rondarium’s, there were no skyscrapers, fewer people rushing about, and no visible factory smoke, giving the place an oddly rural feel.

"It’s much quieter than the capital," Alice remarked, sitting across from me in the carriage. It seemed I wasn’t the only one who noticed the difference.

"But... the sky is beautiful. I’ve never seen a sky like this in the capital."

Sure, the sky in the capital was blue too, but it was rare to see it stretch far without being marred by the black smoke from all the boilers running in various factories.

Incidentally, the Empire took pride in that smoke. It was seen as a symbol of modernization.

Those factories and their emissions were what kept the Empire running, fueling its dominance.

"Look at all the colorful clothes. Do the people here like to dress up?"

No, they just don’t have the same mass-produced alternatives.

Mass production of limited varieties.

With the industrial revolution and the rapid advancement of textile technology, most people in the Empire wore similar factory-made clothes. Only the nobles or the wealthy upper class could afford hand-stitched, custom-made garments.

But the Kingdom didn’t have many such factories yet. Even though some were being built, it would still be a long time before mass-produced clothing was widely available to the general population.

For now, handmade clothes were still the norm in the Kingdom. Although sewing machines had been introduced, making clothes faster and in larger quantities, each household used different fabrics and designs. It was a unique aspect of the pre-industrialization era’s diversity in attire.

In a few years, even that would likely disappear.

"I’ve never been outside the capital before," Alice said as she gazed out of the carriage window.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah."

I briefly wondered what to say. What kind of response should I give to a princess seeing a foreign land for the first time? I decided to take the safest route and offer a compliment.

"Then you’re lucky to be in Lutetia. Since it hasn’t been fully industrialized yet, there’s a lot of unique things to see."

Of course, you could find even more beautiful natural landscapes if you ventured out into the Empire’s grasslands.

"Have you been to Lutetia before?"

"...No."

Well, it felt like I had.

What I had seen was the world inside the game. And not even in AAA-level graphics—just the kind of background design you’d expect from a Japanese mid-tier game developer, with visuals two generations behind.

But the design had captured the essence of the place well enough. At least the level design from the train station to the royal palace was detailed, so everything around me felt strangely familiar.

Those developers had really put in their best effort. I couldn’t help but admire that.

"This is my first time in Lutetia as well."

Though I’d left the capital once for the assassination of the count, this was my first time in a foreign country. And it wasn’t like I had done any sightseeing during that mission either.

"Then why did you say that earlier?"

"..."

Good point.

The Emperor treated us all equally, regardless of whether we were blood-related or not. Therefore, foreign dignitaries had no choice but to do the same.

It would be absurd for foreign countries to compare us based on internal imperial politics. If they did, they’d only be inviting trouble for themselves.

Because of this, the Kingdom was in quite a predicament.

"We sincerely apologize. We weren’t informed that another princess would be arriving..."

The Kingdom’s diplomat wiped sweat from his brow as he spoke. Internally, he was likely fuming at the Empire’s breach of protocol.

Accommodating us was already a costly affair, given our status, but now they had to deal with the sudden addition of another royal.

“I apo—” Alice, realizing the situation, began to apologize, her face flushing red. I quickly raised my hand to stop her.

I wasn’t a diplomat. I had no experience in such matters, nor was I particularly skilled in handling them.

But even so, I had basic common sense.

Alice hadn’t been officially named the Crown Princess yet, but she was still the future ruler of the Empire. Even though she and I were currently receiving the same treatment, Alice was undeniably in a far higher position than me.

Therefore, she shouldn’t apologize to a mere diplomat. It would have been one thing if the matter were personal, but in a formal setting like this, such an apology would undermine her status. If she were to apologize, it should be to someone of equal rank in a private setting.

After all, everything we did, even in our personal lives, had public consequences.

And let’s not forget—the Empire was the dominant power. The very fact that the Emperor had sent a mere daughter to represent him at the summit instead of coming himself or sending the Chancellor was a clear message: “I am not your equal.”

So, the best approach for us was to act as the representatives of a hegemonic power—arrogant and unapologetic. There was no way Alice, the future Empress, should lower her head to anyone.

If the Kingdom had an issue with this, they should have demanded the Emperor himself come. Since they hadn’t, it was too late to complain.

I subtly signaled Alice to stay silent, then turned to the diplomat.

"Do you have another room of the same standard as the one prepared for us?"

"Y-Yes, we’ve reserved the entire hotel, so we do have vacant rooms."

"Then please prepare one immediately. I also expect the same level of security for her as for me—both in quality and quantity."

"Understood. I will see to it right away...!"

Strictly speaking, my demands were rude. Almost tyrannically so.

But if the Emperor hadn’t wanted this, he wouldn’t have sent me.

And again, if they didn’t like it, they could have insisted on him coming in person.

As she often did, Alice took the seat across from me on the sofa, staring at me intently.

"..."

"..."

Without saying a word.

Honestly, her gaze was a little unsettling.

Had my behavior earlier come across as too much?

It was true that Alice was a classic “tough on the outside, soft on the inside” character. Early on, she had a prideful demeanor, much like the original game’s Claire, looking down on others. But gradually, she would open up to the protagonist and his party. She also genuinely cared about the future of the Empire and its people.

Alice’s personal story was about defying her father, the Emperor, who sought to dominate the world through death and destruction, and... probably, eventually, defeating him.

I said “probably” because I hadn’t finished the game before being transported here. Of course, given the company’s preference for traditional narrative arcs, that’s what I expected... but if that’s the case, what’s the point of me being here?

The world would be saved even without me.

The only thing I could do was try to prevent the deaths of a few characters. But even then, I didn’t know if that would make a difference.

There were no gods greeting me with, “Hello, I’m your guide,” nor did I have a neatly organized status window detailing my abilities. What was I even supposed to do?

"How are you so confident?"

Alice’s question pulled me out of my thoughts. I lifted my gaze from the book I had been pretending to read and looked at her.

"You always act so confident, no matter what happens. Like you’re sure you can’t be wrong. Earlier too—what would you have done if the Kingdom’s officials had reacted badly to what you said?"

Hmm.

The reason I could be so confident was simple: if I made a mistake, I could always fix it.

And to be honest, even if I had made a mistake earlier, it wouldn’t have been that big of a deal.

I hesitated for a moment, weighing how much I should reveal. I couldn’t exactly tell her about my ability to rewind time, but offering a flimsy excuse would only confuse her.

After some thought, I decided to go with a response that would make sense to anyone.

"Princess, who is your father?"

"What?"

Caught off guard by the sudden question, Alice hesitated for a moment before replying with a touch of indignation.

"Th-The Emperor, of course!"

Her tone was a little angry, understandably so. I had asked her something she probably thought I should already know.

"And who is my father?"

"W-Well, that’s..."

She didn’t want to admit it.

After all, Alice was the Emperor’s only true-born child. From her perspective, she wouldn’t want to acknowledge my status.

But the fact remained that, legally, I was the Emperor’s daughter. Even if everyone knew I wasn’t truly his blood relative, that didn’t change the official records. And the Emperor treated me as his daughter, even sending me in his stead on missions like this.

So who could dare say I wasn’t the Emperor’s daughter?

Even the blood-related princess standing in front of me couldn’t openly deny it.

"Regardless of what you think, I am officially the Emperor’s daughter. It doesn’t matter if others don’t see it that way. I still have as much authority as you do. Even if people deny it, that authority won’t disappear."

"..."

As Alice bit her lip, I continued.

"Use the Emperor’s authority boldly. If anyone challenges you, assert your status as a princess. No one will be able to look down on you—not anyone in this world."

"But... what if I make a mistake...?"

"A mistake? Just act confidently. No one will dare criticize you. The Emperor doesn’t rule the Empire alone. If you make a mistake, there will be people around you to correct it. If you’re hesitant, it’s the Empire that will look weak."

Alice lifted her head and looked at me with a slightly dazed expression.

"Even if you make mistakes, you’re still the princess, and you will eventually be Empress. Who would dare rebuke you? Maybe they’d offer cautious advice, but that’s all."

"But what if... when I become Empress, I—"

"By the time you become Empress, you’ll be at the pinnacle of the Empire. By then, who would even dare?"

"..."

I watched Alice closely as I spoke.

"Of course, you’ll need to be the best in the Empire. Even if you’re not the absolute best in everything, you should at least be excellent in all areas. The Emperor’s power reaches every corner of the Empire, and if there’s even one weak link, someone might raise their head and attempt to betray you. But if that happens, use your authority to crush them. That’s your greatest weapon."

I strung together what I thought were some encouraging words.

Alice looked at me with a slightly awed expression, which made me feel a little proud.

Well, once she goes to the Academy, she’ll meet better friends than me and learn far more important things.

"...Alright. So I just need to act like that?"

"Exactly. And if there’s something you don’t know, just learn it when the time comes. The real shame isn’t in being confident without knowledge; it’s in refusing to learn when you need to. No one knows everything. So—"

"Even you?"

"Huh?"

Alice suddenly interrupted, and I reflexively asked in return.

Fortunately, she didn’t seem bothered by my reaction. She just kept looking at me with a curious expression.

"You too—do you not know everything about the world?"

"...Of course not."

I worked hard to keep the disbelief off my face as I answered.

"But you always handle things so quickly and efficiently. It’s like you know exactly what’s going to happen. Isn’t that because you already know everything?"

"That’s simply due to my knowledge, skills, and luck. I’m not a fortune teller."

"Is that so?"

Alice’s expression remained doubtful, but I quickly continued before she could dig deeper.

"—Anyway, if someone laughs at you for not knowing something, they’re the ones who should be embarrassed. They’re the ones who think they know everything, which is impossible. When faced with something they don’t know, they’ll get angry rather than embarrassed. So don’t envy people like that. You should take pride in being able to admit your mistakes."

I knew this from personal experience.

Back when I replayed the game multiple times, trying to discover every hidden secret, I’d encounter people who argued with me over lore. I’d refute them with details from the untranslated guidebooks, and if they kept pushing, I’d take them down with a well-aimed counter.

...Though, I had to admit I’d been called out and humiliated a few times when I was wrong. Still, what could I do? I was the only one translating and summarizing all those obscure details. If anyone else wanted to challenge me, they could do the same work.

Of course, I couldn’t pull that stunt now, living in the actual world of the game.

"I see..."

Alice nodded, seemingly impressed by my words.

Her expression made me feel a sense of pride.

Though I worked hard not to let it show.