Daylight looked twice as bright when we met it again in the throne room. The King had the luxury to rest his legs in his extravagant chair, whereas the princess and I could only stand on our weary shanks on the hard floor, even after all those stairs.

  “We all want the war to be over,” King Goring told me. “I prefer the new, subservient Tarachian republic under Reformist control to a western wasteland of banditry, that only breeds more chaos and crime. What our country needs to recuperate from her losses is trade, raw materials, and new connections in all directions across the globe. Which necessitates that any element that could complicate things is buried, quickly and quietly.”

  I nodded mechanically. “Your will be done, your majesty.”

  “If your informants can help clean this mess up, I am willing to turn a blind eye to their maneuvering, for now. However, they are on your responsibility, XA. And should the worst come to pass, I will hold them accountable, the same as the rest of Tarachia. I can still think of many ways to make life even more excruciating for them than it is now, ere reducing that ghost of an empire to a smoking rubble. Be sure to let them know that.”

  So he guessed where my sources were coming from and why I didn’t want to name them. Suppose I wasted my time even trying to hide it.

  “Also,” the man continued, “the truth you have seen today must never leave these halls. You are not a member of the royal family, nor one of the Seven, but as a sharer of the same secret, you are now duty-bound to its safeguarding. That is an order, XA: whosoever seeks the dragon god’s living tomb must be eliminated, no questions asked. An innocent student, or a professor, or a foreign warrior, or whoever it may be. I want the tale of King Wiseley and the dragon nightmare lost in the sands of time.”

  “As you wish.”

  Still he continued,

  “I have not forgotten my dissatisfaction with the Archmage, either. He does have my son in that school of his, and many other sons and daughters of families that I wish to keep content. See that they do not become victims of free-thinking education. Leander has yet to prove his worth to me, but his blood is my blood, and the blood of House Adorium is spilled at a heavy cost. You have authorization to do what is necessary, should problems emerge. But do not abuse my trust and create more trouble than you are worth. You yet hold the key to your own shackles, witch, but with one flip of a switch by the Mysterium, that can be taken from you. If you wish to live as a human being among the rest, with the dignity afforded to such, stay on your best behavior.”

  “I'm aware, your majesty.”

  “Then go. Lauriel, escort our guests out.”

  I didn't want to waste any time leaving these frigid halls, but now that I'd climbed all those stairs that one wouldn't see without a good reason, I had to make the most of the occasion.

  There was one other matter I had to bring up.

  “Your majesty, will you allow your servant one question before I go?”

  “Only one. Ask.”

  “I was told a janitor of your house had an issue with our summer guest. I mistakenly eliminated the asset as an intruder, since he wouldn't identify himself. What could have been the problem? Had you let me know in advance, as your faithful servant, I could've taken care of the matter with my own hands. There was no need to trouble your staff.”

  The King’s thick eyebrows scrunched up in a frown, though he quickly guarded his reaction.

  “…What was the name of this guest of yours?”

  Did he really not know, or was he pretending? Should I have brought this up at all?

  But now that I had, I could only commit.

  “Troyard, Emily,” I cast the clear syllables challengingly across the hall, unsure of their effect.

  But, strangely enough, there wasn’t much visible effect at all.

  “Hm,” the King made a puzzled sound. “The only Troyard I know was the late Baron of Brume. Julius Troyard, an old friend from my own academy days. He was a decent man and a gifted mage. Sadly, he declined the invitation to join my court at the time, choosing to pursue solitary research in his tiny hold. A man without ambition for anything but his imaginary circles. What interest I had in that name died together with its owner eight years past. Was your guest some relation of his?”

  “I believe she’s the Baron’s daughter.”

  The King’s face was like a sculpture, inscrutable. A mechanical man built of painted bolts and eyes of glass would've seemed more alive.

  “I see. I did not dispatch the janitor, nor was I aware of there being any problem, so I cannot answer your question. It must have been one of my children acting up. Likely they thought the Troyard’s daughter would try to take advantage of my friendship with the dead Baron to beg for favors, and we don't need any more of that ilk in this city. Put it behind you. I try not to intervene too much in the young ones’ hobbies. After all, children learn best by doing. This will be their country to lead one day.”

  Were they human children or lion cubs?

  A stupid question. The apple never fell far from the tree.

  “Don't let what happened with the asset bother you,” King Goring said. “Any blade of mine that's clumsy enough to get caught deserves his fate. Rather, for ridding us of a weak link, I should thank you. Now, get lost.”

  Whether the King was sincere about not being involved, or otherwise, it was clear he had said all he meant to say on this topic. It was time for me to do a vanishing trick.

  I bowed yet again, turned and departed without dallying. My molars screeched on the way out. That assassin was a human being too, you bastard. You stone-cold son of a bitch. A loyal patriot burned to the death in our backyard because of your children’s games, and it didn't even get you to blink. But I’ll find the one responsible, and when I do, they’ll get a taste of free-thinking education.

  Outside, I met Charlotte still loyally rooted to the same spot where I last saw her, though a considerable while had passed since then. The sight of the serene maid calmed me down like a spell. It didn’t seem like she’d been too bored, but rather had a good time, with one of the Seven Heroes of Calida for company.

  “Then, until next time,” the hero of the shield told the maid and left to return into the throne room, not sparing a glance my way as he passed. Next time? Did our housemaid have business often in the castle? No, don’t ask. Don’t notice.

  “I trust your business was successfully concluded, young Miss?” Charlotte asked me with a smile and small bow.

  “Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Only then did I remember the princess trailing behind me like a personification of bad past deeds and regretted my tone. I didn’t mean to sound like I loathed her ancestral family home, though I genuinely did. I was about to tell her she didn’t actually need to bother seeing us out, when the young woman abruptly stepped closer and bowed her head to me.

  Why? She wasn’t a maid!

  “Allow me to apologize for interrupting you earlier, Ruthford,” she said. “Understand that I did not intervene in your discussion with father out of any personal distaste towards you. Rather, it was my intention to spare you. Our King’s virtues are many, but patience and forgiveness are not among them. Had anyone else behaved as you did in his sight, there would have been unpleasant consequences. However, it appears I misread the situation and was out of place. Forgive my folly. I am a fool and often misunderstand when I’m supposed to speak.”

  “...”

  What kind of roleplay was this?

  Why was a royal princess apologizing to a nobody? How were you even supposed to answer that? The earlier exchange had already vanished from my mind, and it took a moment to recall what she was even talking about. I glanced at Charlotte for guidance, but the maid only answered me with a slight, helpless smile and kept her mouth.

  I had to improvise, huh?

  “...You have nothing to apologize for, your highness,” I said and returned her bow with a bow. When in doubt, always bow. “It’s true that I was rude to his majesty, and my behavior was in no way defensible. But the King and I go way back, and he knows to expect no better from a lowly tool of war such as myself. Please accept my apologies for making you take a reprimand on my behalf.”

  The princess smoothly straightened her slim figure, the expression on her face unchanged.

  Something about the look in her eyes unsettled me.

  Her earnest, steady gaze sort of reminded me of Vanille and other fencers, but there was a profound difference in the air. Where Vanille made the world around her look brighter, her gaze shining with open affection and joy of living, Princess Lauriel’s stare was utterly blank and without feeling. She took in everything and reflected nothing back. A vast emptiness in the shape of a woman. A toy soldier functioning when the spring was wound, and dead and without purpose of her own when not needed.

  It was difficult to see her as a bad person, just altogether pitiful.

  “You are most kind,” she said and turned. “Then, I shall escort you to your vehicle. Follow me.”

  “Ah, that’s fine,” I said and raised a hand. “I’d feel too bad if I made your highness walk such a tedious trip there and back only for our sake. I'm sure a less important guardsman could handle it.”

  “No,” the princess replied. “I’m afraid there’s no one less important than I am. Come.”

  Charlotte communicated with her eyes that it was better to just go along with it, and so we started down the hallway after Princess Lauriel’s upright stride. Her self-deprecating way of speaking really disoriented me.

  “I am just a regular guardsman,” she said as we walked. “You don't have to go out of your way to treat me as a royal princess. I chose to give up my privileges as a gesture that I wouldn’t pursue the throne after my father. I look for no quarrel with any of my siblings. The stability of our country should be the only thing that matters. I merely wish to do what little I can for the common good, according to my modest ability.”

  “I see.”

  Should she have told me that? She was essentially admitting there was conflict between the royal children over the line of succession. They’d never acknowledge that publicly. The reporters would have a scoop.

  Maybe she really was a fool.

  “More importantly,” Laurel continued, “you interest me.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Ah, pardon me. Not you. It is your mother who interests me.”

  I stumbled. “Excuse me—!?”

  “Hm. I feel this wording is not quite right either. My bad. Anyway, the truth is that I've long admired General Ruthford. She was the one who first inspired me to pick up the sword.”

  I sighed, feeling my heart. That’s what she meant…?

  “I was eleven when I witnessed the General’s swordsmanship demonstration at the castle. It was shortly after she attained Tier 6 in prana utilization. The scene left a lasting impression on me. Though I’ve relentlessly pursued her example since that day, my skill with the blade still pales in comparison. I have neither the power nor the talent. But it would bring me joy if you could send my regards to her.”

  “I'll tell her when I next see her,” I said. “She’ll be happy to hear it, I’m sure.”

  It would seem I could take Lauriel off the list of suspects. She’d shown no reaction to Emily’s name before. And would she insult a person she supposedly admired by sending an assassin to her house? Had she been the one to relay the order to me through the General, why ask me to deliver her greetings, as if they never had any contact? Rather, shouldn’t she have repeated the threat in person now?

  The simplest answer was typically true: she was just as clueless as she seemed.

  I was glad to be out of the heartless, oppressive air of the palace and walk under open skies again, down the sloping street through the castle town. From so high up on the hill, nearly on the level with the lowest clouds, the view over the capital was spectacular.

  I paused on the edge of the stairs to peer down at the innumerable plated rooftops spreading in every direction in a restless, clay-tiled sea, split by the shaded gossamer of thin streets, where the ants incessantly crawled and toiled. Even I'd start to harbor illusions of a heavenly mandate if I could greet that view every morning from my balcony, the crepuscular rays of the sun at my back.

  Then the mirage of divinity passed, and I noticed Lauriel looking back, staring at me. Whatever for?

  “It’s a nice view,” I said.

  “You can smile,” she said. “How do you do it?”

  Smile? Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen her express much emotion in all this time. But what could bring me down? Was she talking about the experiments? Or the war? Or the big bad dragon? Or maybe her own father? But I survived the project and I survived the war, and I’d survive the King too.

  “Life is interesting,” I said and went on. “You’ll miss the best of it, if you only stare down.”

  Maybe it was an insolent thing to say. But she was the one who told me to treat her without excessive formality and I meant to take her up on it.

  “Not losing sight of the greater whole,” she reiterated. “Maintaining a sense of proportion. Is that the secret?”

  “Nothing so smart. You simply look at the things you like and the rest you look away from. And after a while, life starts to look brighter again. Isn’t that how everyone does it?”

  “Don’t you find that mindset rather irresponsible?”

  “Everything in moderation, of course. The key to enjoying life is finding out what you can get away with and what you can’t. When there’s no way around a problem, then give it your all to solve. But if there’s a way past a rock without hitting your head on it, then just move around. In the end, there are surprisingly few things that demand all our strength and passion. Once the crucially important things are taken care of, it leaves plenty of time for more interesting pursuits.”

  She mulled over it for a time before remarking,

  “Yes. I may have the habit of overthinking. Though I haven’t the gift for it.”

  We arrived at the gate on the lowest level of the fortifications, right outside the lot with our auto, and I stopped to face her highness.

  “Thank you for seeing us out, your highness. We’ll be fine from here. Until next time.”

  Lauriel shook her head solemnly in answer.

  “No. I doubt we shall meet again. I mean to leave Canelon before the winter solstice. It is unlikely I’ll return to my birth city again in this life.”

  I frowned at her sudden fatalistic words. They had the tone of a soldier marching to a battle she knew she wouldn’t return from. Though none could be seen on the horizon.

  “Your highness, if it’s your siblings that concern you, I'm willing to listen. There may be ways I can be of assistance to you.”

  “I am honored by your kindness, Cardinal Mage,” she said. “But the shackles you bear tie you yet to my father and this land. Don't forget: your final opponent slumbers under this hill. Until you overcome that rock with all your strength and passion, you shouldn’t mind the trivial hardships of others. Our paths may not align, but you needn't worry for me; I do not leave Canelon out of fear. Yes. For perhaps the first time in my life, I must be brave.”

  Having shared those cryptic lines, she turned around and left to hike back uphill. Only a guard among all the others. One small woman in a place too humongous and old.