IYTTEPAAK Chapter 33

"Archbishop Grehmol supplies the pretext and the public opinion. House Arondight supplies the money and the rank. It's a repulsive little symbiosis."

Regen, who had been listening closely, offered his assessment.

"Your intelligence network is truly formidable, Sasha."

"It's one of the more valuable things I own. I inherited it from my mother."

If I hadn't had this foundation beneath me, I would have been nothing but an ordinary princess.

I had drifted, faintly, into that thought when Regen asked, catching me off guard—

"Did you use that intelligence network to investigate me as well?"

I wasn't flustered. I know how to say something true that isn't the truth.

"I am."

How he'd managed to survive all this time while hiding that he was a prince.

What his relationship was to Killian, Nanaën's direct-bound knight.

"It hasn't been easy."

I'd only uncovered half of it, so far.

"I see……"

He lowered his eyes, looking relieved. He seemed to think I was still blocked, unable to obtain even the most basic information.

Come to think of it, there was one more thing to look into now.

Who was the friend who betrayed him.

I asked, abruptly.

"Would it be all right if I asked you directly, Sir Regen?"

"……."

Something distinctly like distress crossed the handsome man's face.

If I asked even for his real name, his character would make it hard for him to spit out a lie.

I could picture it clearly—the self-loathing that would seize him at the thought of confessing the name Regenhart Lohengrin, a royal who had survived so shamefully.

Naturally, I had no intention of touching that particular wound.

"How many close friends did you have?"

"……Suddenly?"

"I was curious."

That way I can find his betrayer and give him the chance to take revenge.

His guard lowered, the prince told me his information easily enough.

"Four…… I had four. Two died in battle years ago. One was my advisor, and he betrayed me, so I suppose he can't be called a friend anymore."

An advisor. He'd said "not a knight," so it would be best to look for men from scholarly noble families.

"What about the other one?"

He'd told me once that there was only one traitor, but I confirmed it anyway, just in case.

"He was a knight too. I believe he was the last one still alive, but I don't know what became of him. Honestly, my memory cuts off after I was taken captive."

"Your memory cut off?"

"Yes."

Well, when I'd found him again, his condition had been barely distinguishable from a corpse.

But—seriously, how had he actually survived?

He'd fought until his life burned out at the great gorge.  He'd been captured. Of course—he was exactly the sort of man the Empire wouldn't have let live.

Even with a clear head and every scheme available, surviving would have been difficult—so how could someone, driven past their limit to the point their very memory snapped, have hidden their identity and slipped in among the ordinary prisoners and kept themselves alive?

It has to mean someone helped him, surely……

That was when a new piece of information landed in my hands.

"He's the only one left I can still call a friend, so I only hope, if nothing else, that he's alive. He was also my cousin—we practically grew up together since we were children, so he was as good as family to me."

"……."

A cousin, and a friend.

The two pieces of information I already held connected into one.

I forced down the urge to take a deep, deep breath, and said,

"Sir Regen."

"Yes, Sasha."

"You have free time, starting now."

"So suddenly?"

"Yes. Don't hold back on my account."

I already knew exactly where he'd go anyway.

"Then I'll escort you to your quarters and train at the practice grounds. Call for me whenever you need me."

"Good."

After parting from him in front of his quarters, I climbed the stairs to the second floor where my rooms were. But my feet stopped, not at the Silver Bird chamber, but at the Golden Deer chamber.

I gave a small knock, and one of Nanaën's ladies-in-waiting answered. She started at the sight of me, glanced left and right, and hurried me inside.

"Whatever brings Her Highness the Silver Bird Princess here in person……"

"Where's Nana?"

"In her bedroom. I'll announce you."

I hadn't waited long in the sitting room before Nanaën came out.

She must have been enjoying an afternoon nap—she wore a light indoor dress, and her gold hair was slightly mussed.

"Sasha, what's going on?"

"There's something urgent I need to discuss."

"Everyone out. I want to speak with my sister alone."

I steeped the Earl Grey strong enough to serve as poison, to shake off the last of her sleepiness, and held it out to her.

The moment Nanaën swallowed a mouthful, the drowsiness left her eyes, replaced by a sharp, sidelong look at me.

She seemed ready to talk now, so I got to the point.

"Your knight. Lord Killian."

"What about it—our house stray cat? Did something happen?"

"Rohengrin royal blood runs in his veins. He has a claim to the throne."

"……His existence is basically the accident."

Killian was the child born when a former princess of Rohengrin married into a duke's house—Regen's cousin.

Nanaën pressed a hand to her forehead. She must have been rattled, because she'd already drunk three mouthfuls of the nasty tea I'd brewed.

"Didn't you say the entire Rohengrin royal family was wiped out? If he's found out, he's dead on the spot."

"If it's too much to handle……"

"I already picked him up. I'm not throwing him back. I'll hide him well."

Nanaën was sentimental. Once she'd chosen something for herself in particular, she didn't easily let go of her attachment.

I threw out the ruined tea and brewed a fresh pot. A fine, maple-colored liquid filled both my cup and hers.

The real business, in fact, started now.

"Nana. There's something I need you to look into."

"What is it?"

"Killian should have an older brother. Can you find out what became of him?"

"Ah, Killian's older brother, if you mean……"

So she already knows. That was the moment my anticipation showed through.

"He's dead."

"……."

"It wasn't that I meant to look into it—Killian has nightmares every single night, so there was no way I couldn't have found out. Once, he nearly had a fit, so I dosed him with medicine to calm him down, and while he was still under it, he told me. That his brother's body had been cut into pieces and hung from the city wall. That he'd wanted to bring it down, but he couldn't."

"……."

Something surfaced in my memory, timed perfectly. Something the Mad Emperor had said.

'For the especially insolent Rohengrin royals, I made a proper example of it. In the square, where the people could get a good look, I had the heads of the king and princes struck off, heads and bodies, skewered on pikes, strung up high on the city gates, like clown puppets on parade.'

Gooseflesh rose over my skin. Then a chill worse than the first hit me—this was happening right now.

"Come to think of it…… where is Lord Killian?"

"He should be at the training grounds."

An ominous premonition never misses.

The training grounds north of the palace belonged to the Imperial Guard.

Its knights trained on a fixed schedule, systematic and sanctioned. A princess's own bound knight received no such thing.

Sparring required layers of approval, all in the name of preventing needless losses outside actual combat. And beyond that, the Guard and a war captive were not the sort of men who could cross swords in good faith.

To begin with, among the deep-blue uniforms that seemed to signify noble blood itself, a black uniform—funeral-shroud black—was not welcome.

Regen had been pushing his body through a punishing conditioning drill when he reached for the leather waterskin. His throat worked several times before it emptied.

He'd rounded the back of the rest house, heading for the water station, when a shape lunged from the shadows and struck.

Regen was unbothered.

'So. It's finally come.'

Figured some punk would eventually come looking to start something—hating him for the prisoner-of-war thing, or just jealous of his spot at Sasha's side. Either reason would do.

He moved to twist the bones in the hand grabbing for his collar.

But the instant he saw the face of the man driving him back, something slammed the brakes on Regen mid-motion.

"Regenhart."

"......Killian."

The man pinning him to the wall by the collar snarled like a wild animal.

"What are you doing?"

"......"

"I said, what are you doing!"

The bound knight facing him, dressed in the same black uniform, was Killian Ihplit.

Second son of House Ihplit, sworn to the Rohengrin royal family—Regen's own cousin. Also—his dear friend's little brother.