The Protagonist's Party is Too Diligent

"She's strange."

That was Alice's first thought when she saw Sylvia.

To be honest, it was hard to pinpoint exactly what was strange just by looking at her. When Sylvia sat quietly with her mouth closed, she seemed like nothing more than a pretty girl who liked to read, not saying much.

Even if you had a brief conversation with her, you might not notice anything particularly odd. Though her tone was a bit stiff, she still spoke politely, always aware of her place and bowing her head to those above her.

But the longer the conversation went, and the more you watched her actions, the more peculiar things started to stand out.

Sylvia had been with Alice since they were very young. Alice didn’t remember their first meeting exactly, probably due to their childhood, but somehow, amidst those vague memories of early years, Sylvia had gradually become part of her world, mixing into conversations.

Or more accurately, Alice would talk, and Sylvia would respond, usually in brief answers.

According to Lucas, Alice used to be terrified of Sylvia, who never changed her expression no matter how much Alice tried to speak to her. He said Alice would hide behind nearby adults whenever she saw Sylvia, and whenever Sylvia was close by, Alice would run away as if afraid she might start talking to her.

"Afraid of Sylvia? Me?"

When Alice first heard that, she didn’t believe it.

But upon further reflection, she realized it might not be entirely wrong.

After all, even now, Alice was still somewhat afraid of Sylvia.

Alice was the sole legitimate heir to the empire. She was the only one who had rightfully inherited the blood of the Fangryphon dynasty. No other siblings, half-siblings, or even distant relatives stood in her way. If it weren't for Emperor Arthur III’s hobby of adopting orphans and making them his closest aides, Alice might have remained uncontested.

Even without sharing blood, a Fangryphon is still a Fangryphon.

Long ago, during the era when the world was collapsing, and all order was being reformed, a child who had been abandoned on a cliff due to a deformity survived among twisted beasts. That child, who subdued a pack of gryphons with nothing but their human form and rode the largest one, later became the empire's first emperor. People called him "The Chief of Gryphons" in reverence.

That’s the meaning behind the name Fangryphon.

Of course, Alice knew it was just a myth. Even in modern times, gryphons still existed, but no one had ever succeeded in taming one. They might be captured or hunted, and one could perhaps even ride on their back, but the gryphon would resist to the end. That’s why the story of taming a gryphon was considered mythical.

Besides, gryphons weren’t even known to live in packs.

But in an empire with such a myth, the name Fangryphon carried special meaning.

No one could say what the Imperial Council or the people thought.

But at least from the Fangryphon's perspective, the name stood for the power to rule as emperor.

Even if you didn’t share the blood, as long as you had the ability to inherit the name of Fangryphon, the emperor would willingly pass the throne to you.

That’s why Sylvia was feared. While she didn’t have the terrifying aura of the mythical first emperor, she handled matters in front of her as if she already knew what would happen.

It was hard to imagine Sylvia riding a gryphon, though.

And that’s why Sylvia was strange.

Despite possessing such incredible abilities, and the name of Fangryphon, she acted as if she would never take the throne. She repeatedly insisted that the real heir was Alice and that she was merely there to assist her.

At first, Alice wondered if Sylvia was hiding her true intentions. But after some thought... well, Sylvia had never acted in a way that contradicted her words.

In politics, one of the gravest mistakes is judging someone solely by their appearance.

But at least in Alice’s eyes, Sylvia seemed more relaxed around her. She was still expressionless, but Sylvia, who often ignored or gave short answers to other step-siblings, would actively engage in conversation with Alice.

Whenever Alice was anxious, Sylvia would offer encouragement. When Alice was sad, Sylvia comforted her. Her words were always spoken in the same emotionless tone, but hearing them always put Alice at ease.

Was it all just an act?

Was Sylvia merely acting out of obligation because Alice was the princess?

Was Alice being fooled by something so simple?

If so—

—Yes, if even that was an act, then Sylvia was indeed a worthy candidate for the throne from the start.

Although she had somehow followed them to the kingdom, Alice Fangryphon now deeply regretted her decision.

She knew her father favored Sylvia. That didn’t mean he didn’t love Alice, but there was a difference between favoring someone as a talent and loving them as a child. While Alice hadn’t yet been appointed as Crown Princess or handled state affairs, Sylvia was already taking on some of the kingdom’s most crucial responsibilities.

Sylvia herself always treated Alice as the future empress... but that didn’t ease Alice’s anxiety. After all, it wasn’t Sylvia who would decide the next emperor, but Alice’s father, the current emperor.

“I’m going to get scolded again...”

Her father often called Sylvia to ask her about upcoming events. Each time, Alice would try to sneak in and listen to the conversation or, failing that, attempt a poor imitation of Sylvia.

And every time, it ended with her father’s reprimand.

He never shouted or struck her, but the weight behind his words, fitting of an emperor, was heavy. Alice shrank a little more each time she heard them.

And each time, the person who comforted her was Sylvia.

Alice knew that Sylvia’s words weren’t always genuine. If Alice felt disappointed about doing worse than Sylvia on a test, Sylvia would casually mention that she had gotten lucky on a few questions... though Alice knew that couldn’t be true.

If she wanted, Sylvia could easily get a perfect score.

But despite knowing that, Alice always felt buoyed when Sylvia reassured her.

Hearing someone as competent as Sylvia call her the "next empress" made Alice happy. In the palace, where Alice had no one she could truly call a friend, Sylvia was both her competitor and her only friend.

And so, after another scolding, Sylvia would likely comfort Alice again.

That thought left a bitter taste.

Lying on the luxurious bed in the kingdom's best hotel, just as Sylvia had arranged, Alice stared blankly at the ceiling, killing time. Her main guards were Lucas and Jayden, but honestly, Alice found them both more intimidating than Sylvia.

Maybe if there was time, she’d ask Sylvia to walk around the capital with her.

While Alice was deep in thought—

Knock knock.

There was a careful knock on the door, startling her.

[Princess, may I have a word?]

“Huh, what!?”

Alice jumped to her feet at the sound.

“Wh-what’s going on!?”

She shouted, flustered. She had never received guests without Sylvia or someone else by her side. The Imperial Guard was probably outside the door—no, the one knocking must be from the Imperial Guard. They were tasked with directly protecting the princess.

But she had never welcomed a guest into her room alone. The trip had been so sudden that even her personal maid hadn’t boarded the train in time.

[Princess Charlotte de Belvure of the Kingdom of Belvure requests an audience.]

“P-Princess—!”

Alice barely managed to stifle her gasp by covering her mouth with her hand.

Technically, the princess of Belvure wasn’t on the same level as a Fangryphon imperial princess. Maybe that’s why she had come directly upon hearing that the “real” princess of Fangryphon had arrived. While princesses and imperial princesses didn’t take part in governance, they could still form friendships.

Relationships between nobles could lead to practical benefits later on. And if it were royalty, even more so. Even without administrative duties, forming a connection with someone you had at least met before would make it easier to communicate in the future.

Alice, who had received her fair share of political lessons, recalled some information about the Belvure princess.

Like Alice, she was an only child. She was likely to inherit the throne. And she was the same age as both Alice and Sylvia.

“...Phew.”

Alice didn’t know why Princess Charlotte had come, but she couldn’t turn her away now that she was here.

Though terribly nervous, Alice knew she had to handle this situation herself.

She recalled her earlier conversation with Sylvia.

Always be confident, as befits the rightful heir to the throne.

She quickly looked down at her clothes. Were there any wrinkles, or worse, stains? Fortunately, there were a few creases, but nothing too noticeable.

She straightened her back and puffed out her chest, lifting her chin just like she had once seen a duchess do.

And she mimicked Sylvia’s expression.

After a few more deep breaths, Alice finally spoke.

“Yes, please let her in.”

Of course, her heart wasn’t as calm as Sylvia’s.