IYTTEPAAK Chapter 12

"I don't need it to go that far yet."

I declined right away. That was a step requiring mental preparation.

"Understood."

My ear pricked at that. Somehow his voice had sounded faintly amused. But when I looked up, his face was composed into its usual neutral expression.

After ten-odd minutes of walking, we found the exit. The green of the evergreens fell away, and an endless expanse of white wall stretched out before us.

"Is this the boundary of the imperial grounds?"

"No. Beyond this wall is still the palace."

The most closed-off zone in the palace, second only to the dungeon.

"It's the harem. It's off-limits to men, so I can't show you around."

The harem was a space the Mad Emperor had built for the mistresses he'd plundered for himself. They call it a palace for convenience. Really, it's just crammed rooms—a holding pen, large and small, thrown together in a heap.

There was exactly one entrance connecting the palace proper to the harem. Once you passed through a long, tunnel-like corridor, an entirely different world opened up, nothing like the main palace or the outer palaces.

Digging up childhood memory—it felt like some overcrowded slum. Single-story, two-story tenements jammed together. Roads tangled like spiderwebs.

That place had been the Mad Emperor's flower garden. My father would come to the harem on a whim, throw open whatever door he liked, and pick the flower he wanted.

"I lived there myself until I was given the title of princess, so I know it well. It isn't as beautiful a place as the world's fantasies about it. Paradise, maybe, for the Mad Emperor. In reality, it's hell."

"You'd go so far as to call it hell?"

"Yes."

I could say so with certainty.

"To begin with, which room you're assigned depends on favor. Satisfy the Emperor, and you get a room with good light and good condition. The more often you're called for night duty, the larger your room becomes, until some women even get an entire two-story building to themselves. Conversely, fail to satisfy the Emperor, or make one mistake—you live like a rat in the basement. Picture it—most of your day, shut in a cellar with no light. You think you could stand that without going mad?"

"......"

"And it isn't only the mistresses who live in the harem. The ladies-in-waiting who must serve those mistresses are locked in there together with them. The attendants live in the side-room adjoining whatever chamber their mistress has been given. For a mistress assigned a small room or a basement cell, her attendant's side-room isn't even fit to be called a room. It's not even that. Might as well call it a closet."

"......"

"So in order to secure a space just to survive in, you have no choice but to become a fiend. Even if the mistress herself has no interest in it, her attendants won't leave things be. The more rivals they eliminate, the more space they gain for themselves to use."

"......"

The harem wasn't a beautiful palace. It was a wretched holding pen.

"A great many women have died from the scheming inside. Those who survived, mostly, went mad."

I looked into the entrance. Beyond that tunnel like an abyss lay the resentment and despair of thousands of women.

"Sasha."

Regen asked me.

"Is your mother alive, in there?"

"Yes."

"That's a relief."

That, well.

The maddest person in the entire harem was probably my own mother.

I turned the subject elsewhere.

"Is there anything else you're curious about?"

"I heard that most of the Mad Emperor's children die around the age of ten or so. It seems to have been happening even before the 'prophecy.' Are they killed, caught up in the scheming?"

I was probably the one who told him that. My heart pounded over the strangest things.

"That's part of it, but more of them are killed by the Emperor himself."

"Even before the saint delivered the prophecy?"

"Yes."

"Why would a father kill his own children?"

"Do fathers not kill their children?"

"......"

"......"

Our respective common senses collided.

"...... I'm sorry. I forgot who we're talking about—the Mad Emperor."

"It's probably my own common sense that's warped. I'm aware of that."

I walked on, trailing my left hand along the white wall. His shadow, following behind me, fell across my path ahead.

"Do you want to hear why a father kills his own children? From your perspective, it must sound like an extremely nonsensical story."

"I want to know about Sasha."

To know about me, is it.

I turned to face him sharply enough to make a sound.

"Let me give you a riddle, Sir Regen. There are eight imperial princesses in the Magnalorde royal house, myself included. How on earth have all of us managed to survive without dying?"

"......"

Of course, it isn't a riddle anyone with ordinary common sense could solve. The answer is......

"Because we were pretty."

I saw shock and disbelief flash across those golden eyes.

"......What."

Absurd, right? That's what you want to say.

I wish it were just a bad joke, too.

Wanted to laugh, suddenly. But it didn't come.

"The ugly ones all died. One prince died because his face wasn't symmetrical. Another princess died because she got a scar on her face."

"......"

"The princesses, myself included, are nothing more than the Mad Emperor's collection. Damage the pretty, and you get thrown out."

Maybe it was dragging up the old pain. A small cruelty in me pushed me on.

I stepped in close to him. I rose up on my toes, trying to close the difference in our height.

"So, what do you think? Am I pretty?"

"......"

His eyes—suddenly invaded—shook wide. The light rippling in those golden eyes was beautiful, like a fish swimming.

"You can't even answer right away—I suppose I'm not pretty enough, then. Doesn't look like I'll live very long."

I lowered my heels, playing at looking crestfallen. As I tried to step back, a large hand came to rest over my head.

The careful, stroking touch comforted me.

"You've had a hard time of it, Sasha."

"......"

That's cheating. Isn't it.

Same as I was as a kid. No immunity to this, still—standing there blank, like something in me had shorted out.

Back then, I'd wanted just one more of these. Nine years later—I had it again.

Regen studied me.

"Do you dislike this?"

"No. My brother...... used to do this often too, so......"

Thinking it over again, that was a rather good excuse I'd made up.

Everything comes to an end eventually, and his hand drew away. It was a shame, but I was a princess, and there was too much dignity to protect for me to ask for more.

I thought I ought to repay the tender comfort somehow.

"Sir Regen."

"Yes, Sasha."

"I think we've grown close enough now."

His eyes brightened. It had been the condition for the restoration of his core.

I whispered to him.

"Come to my bedroom tonight."

The dominion power passed down through the Magnalorde imperial line divided into five stages.

The first stage was Enchantment. By holding another's gaze for a sustained moment, one could draw out favor, awe, and similar feelings from them. It could be called a short-term charisma boost.

The second stage was Control. Through command, one could make another halt all action and show proper deference. Since it drew out only a temporary submission, it did not persist.

The third stage was Binding. This was the core of the dominion power—it allowed one to keep a knight bound in absolute, exclusive loyalty to oneself alone. Members of the imperial family could, as a rule, use the power up through this third stage without difficulty.

The fourth stage was Empowerment. This was where the true heart of imperial authority began. The dominating royal could enhance the mana of the bound, dominated knight. Many knights swore their loyalty to the Emperor precisely because of this fourth stage.

The fifth stage was Restoration. This stage had come into being thanks to the current Mad Emperor, who was spoken of as a god. Restoration and healing of the mana core through communion. It could be called, in effect, a power to bring the dead back to life.

Throughout history, only the Mad Emperor had ever reached the fifth stage. Officially, at least.

She doesn't seem like the sort to lie, the princess.

Separate from whether he trusted Sasha's character, Regen could only remain half-convinced.

To begin with, he doubted whether a power capable of restoring a mana core actually existed in the world at all.

Only rumor claimed the Mad Emperor possessed it—he'd never once heard testimony from a knight who claimed to have actually received such treatment.

Soon enough, it'll be clear.

Once he went to the princess's bedroom tonight, everything would become clear.

...... And yet, an ambush was waiting.

"There must be no want left when it comes to attending Her Imperial Highness. We'll prepare thoroughly."

The moment the winter sun sank early below the horizon, an uninvited guest had already barged into his quarters.

It was Demia, the brazen lady-in-waiting with the chocolate bob.

Demia announced that the bathwater was ready and hurried him along.

Whatever bathwater she'd prepared, a sweet fragrance shook loose from both her hands, and her apron was covered in flower petals of every color.