SN Chapter 15

But before long, it happened. The year Elpydion turned eleven, the Emperor took a new consort. An Imperial Consort of base origins from a country viscount house. So poor no one had seen her in high society. A woman whose only merits were a pretty face and beautiful hair that shone like moonlight—someone whose name no one even knew.

That the Emperor indulged in women was common knowledge, so no one was particularly surprised. The problem was the two children she brought when she entered the imperial castle. A ten-year-old boy and a five-year-old girl with hair color identical to the Imperial Consort's were none other than the Emperor's children. Born during the Emperor's frontier inspections, or so the story went. The imperial family was turned upside down.

There were no bastards in the imperial family. Only princes and princesses of lower standing. Yet the Emperor had hidden the children's existence. Why? Just as everyone's questions grew, the boy was formally made a member of the imperial family and received a new name.

Rikardis Dareux Illavénia. The eternal nation upon which divine sunlight shines. The second prince who would raise that name high.

And the questions about the prince who suddenly appeared at age ten were soon answered. It was announced that Rikardis possessed divine power surpassing First Prince Elpydion. In a nation of god that received divine protection, divine power was stronger than any other force. Whether he wanted it or not, Rikardis was fated to have his name entered as a candidate for Crown Prince. A mere country viscount's Imperial Consort wouldn't have had the power to protect Rikardis. She likely delayed entry to preserve his life, if nothing else. From that point, the imperial family knew no peaceful days. A second name had been written among what had been the sole Crown Prince candidate.

Unlike Elpydion, who received Crown Prince education in the palace as though it were natural, Rikardis had directly experienced war and politics. Those who found their own path in his actions joined him one by one, until today a faction comparable to the First Prince's had formed.

Assassination attempts had been steady since Rikardis was recognized as an imperial family member, but in recent years they'd begun coming with desperate attitudes suggesting they couldn't breathe the same air under Idelabheim's sky. Caught up in that fight, Rikardis's only full-blooded younger sister had lost her life. That was when Rikardis truly threw himself into the Crown Prince succession struggle.

As though everything until then had been a game, as though merely warming up, he expanded his power in earnest and accumulated achievements. The First Prince, feeling anxious about this, had attempted another assassination using the hunting competition as a convenient opportunity. Even joining hands with Illavénia's long-standing enemy, Balta. Truly stupidity so profound one couldn't even grasp where to begin criticizing it.

"Since it failed, he must be frantic. My knights are quite skilled, you see... Should I have personally told him that such efforts won't be enough to send me to Idelabheim, Count?"

"You speak frightening words, Your Highness."

Count Seacrag answered while repeatedly wiping sweat. Rikardis wore a cold smile.

"I jest. Yes. This attempt was rather painful. My hands and feet weren't people who should have died so meaninglessly in Vista."

Rikardis wiped all amusement from his face. It had been a nightmarish night. Though he'd never lived comfortably, it was a night that would remain in his heart. Shallow groans forcing their way between tightly clenched lips. The sound of sparks flying from weapons, torches burning the air, people's footsteps crushing branches. Protect His Imperial Highness! Guard Prince Rikardis! The enemy uses poison. Your Highness! Please save yourself!

'White Night Order! As you swore under Idelabheim's radiance, give your lives!'

There had been times he'd thought it mere empty formality, yet they had truly died protecting him as they'd vowed then. His mouth tasted bitter. Guard knights who'd stood by his side for years had died to mere poison. By the time he tried to heal them with divine power, it was already too late.

If only he hadn't fled then, if only he'd fought with them... Regret, no matter how swift, always came too late. He had to repay this somehow. He had to make that bastard feel this shitty emotion too. Rikardis's eyes sank coldly.

Recently, the senior knights' faces had begun showing increasingly tired colors. After the hunting competition failure, assassination attempts hadn't subsided—they'd become more active. Poison in the day, daggers at night. As busy as they were, the guards had to keep their nerves on edge all day. With no proper personnel to rotate with in that state, they looked even more exhausted. Did that idiot Elpydion not even understand the concept of tactical retreat? Rikardis cursed Elpydion enthusiastically in his mind.

"They didn't die meaninglessly. They could give their lives for Your Highness."

"Ridiculous. I don't need those who die for me."

"Even so, you need personnel to guard you. As it happens, I have something to discuss regarding that matter."

Rikardis rested his chin in his hand and looked at Stas, who held the Knight Captain position. Count Stas of Autumngloam. He waited obediently to hear what this stubborn but loyal vassal would say.

"I wish to add Knight Rosaline of Redvielle to guard duty. I need Your Highness's opinion. May I proceed as is?"

Rikardis's expression crumpled sharply. The surrounding vassals' faces also twisted.

"There isn't another Rosaline of Redvielle in the Illavénian Empire, I trust."

"Not to my knowledge."

Stas's expression remained calm. Rikardis ran his hand through his hair and laughed.

"You jest well. Are you telling me to keep Redvielle, who wipes Elpydion's ass, by my side?"

"Twelve recommendation letters from the new Vice-Captain Nathan are piled up. He's neither one who listens to flattery nor one who lacks judgment of character. I've worked with him since he was the vice-captain's adjutant, so I know well. If he expresses his opinion this strongly, there must be good reason. Moreover, in my own assessment, Knight Rosaline is a knight I could call acceptable if not for her house."

Stas handed the recommendation letters to Rikardis. Rikardis read through all twelve letters carefully. Meanwhile, Count Seacrag reddened and argued against Stas's opinion. It was truly absurd. A child from House Redvielle, faithful vassal to the current Emperor and also supporter of the First Prince? Assign her guard duty that required staying attached all day?

"You say she's an acceptable knight except for her house, but that house is the biggest problem!"

"Assassination attempts will increase further, and guard personnel are more scarce than ever. Many can wield a sword well, but few give me confidence they're loyal to His Highness."

"Then does she give you that confidence, Count? Despite being of Redvielle?"

"Despite that. Yes."

Rikardis read the recommendation letters with his eyes while listening to their exchange with his ears. Well, well—she seemed more capable than he'd thought. To earn the eye of that Knight Captain who wouldn't let a needle through. Rikardis read the confidence in her from both the vice-captain's recommendation letters and the Knight Captain's words.

Another voice layered over their argument. Marquess Grandram, who'd been listening quietly. He stroked his mustache and spoke in a subdued voice. As though discussing something distasteful but unavoidable.

"My son goes around with 'she's different from knights whose words exceed their actions' constantly on his lips. Trustworthy, deeply loyal, with talent for command, kind and sincere and whatnot. Anyone would think she's my son's granddaughter. The point is—she has... the qualifications, he says."

With the Marquess's support, the scales slowly began to tip. Despite being of Redvielle, one who recognized the Second Prince's true worth and offered her life. Sincere, intelligent, understanding honor.

But Rikardis still didn't like her. He loathed those eyes that seemed to say I'll die for you anytime with teeth-grinding intensity. If you lack the ability, don't step forward. Foolish thing. All of it, every bit of it, was misfortune she'd called upon herself.

"Yes, perhaps she'll become a bluebird carrying Elpydion's information."

Rikardis twisted his lips in a smile. His expression looked deeply displeased.

"Let's watch and see."

Senior knight wasn't a position selected merely by having worked for the knight order long or simply being strong. Each one had thoroughly learned law, etiquette, and politics across all fields, holding the authority of a commander who could lead soldiers at any time. Perhaps because of this, there were occasional commoners among junior knights, but from senior knights up, children of high noble houses formed the majority.

The current White Night Order had ten senior knights. Apprentice knights applied to senior knights they respected, and senior knights considered applicants' houses, character, development potential, and various other factors before taking them on. Apprentice knights followed senior knights, learned swordsmanship, and assisted with their work.

Rosaline also gained the right and duty to take on several apprentice knights as a senior knight. The problem was that not a single person applied to her. Raymond considered beating his own apprentices into submission to send them, but when they rebelled as though begging to have their heads cut off instead, he couldn't force them to the end. If the apprentice knights didn't truly follow her, only Rosaline would bear the hardship.

But what was this? Before his eyes lay a pile of applications from apprentice knights seeking Rosaline's instruction. Raymond nodded.

'Nestor of Seacrag.'