A Room of My Own
If I was going to see that rite of passage through, I needed a great deal of information. I had no intention of wasting even mealtime in this place.
I planned to use moments like these to gather what I needed — from Henrik, from the head chef — for hosting a proper banquet in due course.
"Leave it to me, Your Highness."
"The delegation's affairs are indeed yours to manage."
I glanced down at my plate. Even the cucumber salad set before me at this moment was a dish that did not exist in the Kingdom of Francia. Could I put even this to use?
"And what, might I ask, is your method?"
I was still turning the question over in my mind when I took my first bite of the apple pie served for dessert, and Henrik tilted his head slightly as he asked.
I looked deliberately toward the knight standing behind him, clad in black armor. He was the same knight who had been present when I first met Henrik. Without a doubt, he was an adjutant in whom His Highness placed the deepest trust.
"I can tell you before lunch, Your Highness."
The moment the meal ended, I asked one of the maids and made my way to the room that had been granted to me thanks to Henrik's position as Prince.
"This room is reserved solely for Her Highness the Prince-consort. If you need anything done, just call for us."
The maid, holding the lavishly decorated door open for me, bowed politely with these words and withdrew.
At last I had time entirely to myself. Exactly as I had wished.
I had kept my magic a secret from everyone — from Antoni, from Selena — for the very instant that I used it. I had wanted to protect my mother's dying wish and her keepsakes.
Moreover, when I overused my magic, I would clutch at my chest and wheeze like an invalid. Not exactly something I cared to show anyone.
If only I had hidden my ability itself from them from the very beginning.
"Haa..."
A deep sigh escaped me before I could stop it. Discovering one's own foolishness is always an unpleasant thing. When the sigh ended, I bit down hard on my lip.
The room prepared for me was so clean, so vast, that even the sound of my own breathing echoed distinctly. Attilenta, the circumstances have changed now, haven't they.
Having quickly steadied myself, I drew the mirror from the depths of my generous bodice and began casting the magic that borrowed my mother's power.
Come, mirror. Show me the spies siphoning this country's secrets. Henrik — if I am to use that man, this too must be done.
"Only then can I reach the future I desire, mirror."
The mirror responded at once to my wish. Within its surface, green light spread outward in rippling waves.
The mirror showed me a figure launching a carrier pigeon from some secluded corner. Judging by the black ramparts, it seemed to be somewhere within this very palace. I studied the person intently — their appearance, their movements, the place where they stored the letters before sending the pigeons out.
As promised, before lunch I wrote out a list of the spies and delivered it to Henrik.
"The information I mentioned, Your Highness."
"We'll speak once I've reviewed it."
Even as he paged through the lengthy report, Henrik's reaction remained merely composed and calm. I withdrew without further word.
Night fell, and once again I shared the same bedchamber with him. Henrik, however, buried himself in his own affairs until sleep took him.
After confirming that he had drifted off completely, I slipped stealthily into the washroom.
"Hrk, hrk!"
After a bout of relentless coughing, I vomited blood. It was the result of casting magic again and again, since the spies had numbered far more than one or two.
It had happened before, too.
On the battlefields I had followed Antoni to, the unfamiliar conditions meant I often fell ill after using my magic. Even though such an invalid was useless in a war camp, Antoni had tended to me with the utmost devotion.
It's only after this is over, he'd murmured — let's go to the sea you've always dreamed of, I truly cherish you, and all the rest of it.
I glared at the bloodstain with all the loathing in me.
"Damn you, rot in hell... Antoni."
No warrior in this world wants to keep wielding a rusted-out weapon.
Henrik might behave as though he were honoring our bargain faithfully now, but well. One thing was certain: I could not, under any circumstances, let him catch me coughing up blood.
I moved quickly, wiping the stain away until it was spotless.
Desperately, as if erasing the last traces of the life I had once lived beside Antoni.
That night, I dreamed a most unfamiliar dream.
Wandering lost in a forest, I collided with something. It was an enormous tree. Startled, I sobbed and sobbed, searching only for my mother.
The tree caught me with dozens of branches and spoke to me gently.
You must not be found out, Attilenta.
Found out about what?
Even as I wept in the dream, I kept thinking. But I've been so careful all this time — even Antoni and Selena don't know my secret.
From that thing without lips, a strange, soft laugh drifted out. Hoo-hoo.
Attilenta, you must not lose your way — and you must never be caught not knowing the way.
To whom, exactly?
I jolted awake at once.
"...Haa."
As I caught my breath after the held-back gasps, the morning sunlight streaming between the curtains was so blinding that I blinked several times.
Henrik, seated quietly on the sofa reading through documents, addressed me almost as though offering praise.
"You're awake? The information you gave me yesterday proved quite useful."
"I'm glad to hear it, Your Highness."
Quickly wiping away a cold sweat, I gave a courteous reply and rose.
The spies I had exposed yesterday numbered five. I intended to use the magic again to find out whether there were others besides them. My body would no doubt suffer for it again today.
"I have no intention of sending them back to their homeland. Now that I know how and where they transmit their intelligence."
"Indeed, that is wise."
Henrik could now manipulate the content of the information the spies handled as he pleased. Controlling intelligence like that was one of the finest strategies available in war.
In the long term, it would likely prove far more effective than simply torturing the spies and driving them from this country.
"Even though I've never set foot in the south, that kingdom's court has certainly pretended to know me — I suspected there had to be spies. Thanks to you, settling this matter was all too easy."
Henrik appeared to be praising me in earnest, but I was neither flattered nor pleased.
Because I knew this, too, was a test he had set out for me.
In truth, Henrik could have managed this much easily enough without me. He had knights whose loyalty to him ran deep.
As he himself said, the fact that he had become famous as the Black Dragon of the Battlefield without ever marching south surely had its reasons.
I gazed at Henrik's amethyst eyes, utterly unruffled even on this bright morning.
An ordinary man would still be steeped in fatigue and languor, but he was not.
His eyes, whenever I looked at them, seemed like glittering jewels — or like a lake at rest.
No. They haven't always been like that, have they.
The memory of that moment when those eyes had turned toward me, strangely flushed, flickered swiftly through my mind — and I erased it at once.
There was no need to dwell on such things.
"Command me again whenever you have need, Your Highness. That is why I came here, after all."
And I caressed one more secret thought of my own that I could never say aloud to him.
This man could betray me too. You know that perfectly well, don't you, Attilenta? Weigh only the profit and loss. Trade, and nothing more.
Perhaps the dream had been a warning about him.
Even so, I had to devote a certain measure of my ability to him. If I wanted the sweet reward.
When Henrik rose gracefully and rang the bell, a single knight entered.
He was the one who, during our bargain with Henrik, had correctly guessed the thoughts I found 'difficult to speak before my master.' The very man who had stood guard behind Henrik even at mealtimes.
"Your Highness, I trust you slept well. Your Highness the Prince-consort, I would formally introduce myself. I am Krakow, knight in service to the Prince."
"A pleasure, Sir Krakow."
"Please, treat me with no such formality. I have no wish to disturb your morning, but I have come bearing something for Your Highness the Prince-consort."
Sir Krakow sank to one knee and offered me a small box.
Inside was a small ring set with a black gemstone. I was no expert in jewelry, but even a passing glance told me it must be extraordinarily valuable.
My eyes went wide as I looked from the ring to Henrik and back again.
I never asked for anything like this — what on earth is going on?
Thrown by the suddenness of it, my confusion showed plainly on my face.