IYTTEPAAK Chapter 21

Grinning brightly, Nanaën linked her arm through mine and steered me toward the couch. We sat down side by side.

"Sister, I heard you missed me?"

It seemed my complaint—that with the Golden Deer absent, we'd all been forced to watch Lilliana strut about unchecked—had gotten twisted somewhere along the way.

The embellishment didn't bother me, but there was one point of fact I needed to correct before we went any further.

"Your informant's report is sloppy. That wasn't me. That was Lete."

"Oh, was it? Killian, go and fetch Lete for me."

Nanaën said this while sulkily pulling her arm back out of mine—right as the velvet curtain swept aside.

"Already here."

Sister Orlette walked in and took the couch across from us.

"Golden Deer, what are you doing hiding out here? With the queen of the social scene missing, Lilliana thinks the whole ballroom belongs to her."

"I'm the same as Sasha, then. It's fun to watch. The weaker hand, thrashing about."

"The weaker hand?"

A sheer curtain hung across the balcony railing. Pull it aside even slightly, and from inside you could look down over the entire ballroom—while from outside, no one could tell who was in the balcony at all.

We could still easily pick out Lilliana in the middle of the hall, basking in every noble's attention.

"Honestly, Lily's pathetic."

Nanaën's mouth curved into its usual shape, but there was a chill behind it.

It was the smile of someone looking at her own kind—someone far, far beneath her—with pure contempt.

"Constantly broadcasting how loved she is by everyone isn't just bragging. It's brainwashing whoever's listening. What she's really saying is, 'Look how much I'm loved. That means I'm worth loving. So you—yes, you listening—you have to love me too.' A shallow trick—but funny enough, it works pretty well."

Nanaën set out three teacups in a row and began filling them.

"You don't even need a lot of people to pull that kind of thing off. Talk about the earl in front of the young duke. Talk about the marquess in front of the earl. Then, in front of the marquess, circle right back to the young duke or the earl again. Let me show you."

She handed the first cup to Orlette and spoke as if confessing a private secret.

"Lete, honestly—ever since I was little, I used to sneak into Sasha's room to sleep, sometimes. I'd show up crying with my pillow, and she'd always act like she just couldn't say no, and let me sleep there. She never did that even for Shumel, the youngest, but with me she just couldn't help herself, apparently——"

"Is that true?"

Orlette turned wide, white-rimmed eyes on me.

"Does it sound true to you?"

"See? That's one down."

Smug about it, Nanaën handed me the second cup. Then, lifting her own to her lips, she said, offhand, as if it were nothing at all—

"Since I don't want you to get the wrong idea later, Sister, I'll just tell you now. I'm meeting Sir Regen at the lake garden at midnight tonight. He asked to meet me first, said he had something he wanted to ask."

"That never happened."

Regen's voice cut in before I could react. Everyone but Nanaën and me had already turned to interrogate him with a look.

Nanaën laughed brightly and stood up.

"See, since he's right here in front of us, we can check the truth of it immediately. But say Sasha had been apart from Sir Regen for a while, and in that gap I'd approached him and said this instead—"

She walked over to where Regen stood at the entrance, keeping watch. Her expression turned, for once, genuinely serious.

"Sir Regen. You're being deceived. Would you like to know the real reason my sister chose you as her knight?"

"......."

For a moment I nearly choked on breath instead of tea.

I did everything I could to recover my composure and spoke as though nothing were wrong.

"And that's when you'd call him to the lake garden at midnight? So that I'd happen to witness it and end up misunderstanding the two of you?"

"Correct answer."

And with that, the lecture on cheap tricks was over. Nanaën returned to the couch, cheerful again, and sat back down.

"Of course, I don't actually need to go to all that trouble myself. I get plenty of attention just by sitting still."

"I came here to rest and somehow I feel more exhausted than before."

"You should heal yourself just by looking at my pretty face."

"I've looked at it too much. The effect's worn off."

I held my right hand out toward Regen—my way of saying I intended to leave.

"Sister, one moment."

Nanaën caught my arm. Whether she meant to share some secret, she pressed her lips close to my ear and whispered.

"Be careful. In this palace, if love gets discovered, it becomes dangerous."

"......."

It was easy enough to respond to a line that loaded without actually reacting to it.

"As if anyone doesn't already know that."

I left the balcony ahead of my sisters.

On the dark staircase, Regen escorted me with careful attention.

It brought back the memory of a long time ago—taking his hand as we walked down that single steep slope, at the boundary between forest and open field.

Their three-way confrontation just now seemed to have made an impression on him. He spoke, low.

"You seem to be very close with your sisters."

"I suppose so."

"You put on an act of poor relations in public. Is that to prevent implication if something goes wrong?"

"Yes. If someone tries something reckless and gets caught, it's better to have only that one person bear the fall alone."

"I see."

"But there's another reason, too."

"What is it?"

I supposed I'd have to explain something that was common sense inside the palace, and something Regen would find anything but common sense.

"Why do you think the Emperor plays with people's lives?"

"Because they only have one? Isn't that it?"

"Yes. Precisely because it's the only one they have, it's usually the thing they treasure most. So then—what happens if you let the Emperor find out about something you treasure just as much as your own life?"

"He'd weigh it against your life."

"Exactly."

The Emperor is deranged—he doesn't only toy with people's lives. Dignity. Honor. Love. Hope. Anything precious enough to rival a life becomes a toy in his hands.

There's precedent already. Several princesses who were once genuinely close as sisters have died.

Once we returned to the ballroom, we faced the nobles again. Most of them, apparently sick of Lilliana's boasting, brightened the moment they spotted Regen and me and came drifting over with obvious curiosity.

"Here you are, Your Imperial Highness! We've been longing to meet your personal knight ever since we heard how tall and striking he was. He's every bit as impressive as they say."

"The hall's gotten so crowded. I don't suppose Your Highness might hold a separate tea party sometime, to properly introduce Sir Regen——"

"Ahem, hem. I hear you were secluded for a full week. Did you have a pleasant time? Ah-hem, hem."

"Any plans for a duel with Sir Jerome? We've all placed bets on who'd win——"

It was a night of meeting kindness with kindness and hostility with hostility.

To a drunk young lordling babbling nonsense about bets, I smiled and kept pouring him strong liquor.

By the time he'd downed five glasses in a row and fled with a hand clapped over his mouth, the crowd around us had thinned again.

Looking further off, I could see my other sisters equally occupied in their own social duties—exchanging obligatory compliments, laughing at jokes with no substance to them, and elegantly retaliating whenever they were shown disrespect.

A few of them weren't up to standard, but most of my sisters performed well above average.

A standing bar had been set up along the edge of the ballroom, offering drinks and finger food at all hours. Wanting to wet my throat, I picked up two glasses of juice.

I meant to offer one to Regen, but when I looked over, he wasn't looking at me at all. Following the direction of his gaze, I found two of my elder sisters.

One had her blue hair piled up high; the other wore her hair like midnight, loosely gathered and let fall.

Regen straightened his gaze quickly and turned his attention back to escorting me, but it was true—for him, the length of time his eyes had lingered was unusual.

I probed carefully.

"Vivian and Gwendolyn. We're on distant terms, so there's no particular need to go over—but shall we greet them?"

"No."

So it hadn't been much interest after all. I felt momentarily foolish for having wondered, even briefly, whether he had a taste for older women.

Around then, a commotion rose at the ballroom entrance. One of the evening's key figures had made a belated entrance.