The Only One Who Understands (1)
My breath caught up to my chin. I could taste blood in my mouth.
"Whew... whew..."
Having sprinted at full tilt the moment we reached the castle gates, my heart was hammering like a madman's. Who would have guessed that, of all rooms, the princess's would be the farthest from the entrance? We only managed the shortest route thanks to Hanna guiding me through a shortcut.
Steadying my breathing as best I could, I quickly took stock of our surroundings.
- Kuuuuuung...
The massive wooden door had been smashed to splinters and slammed bodily into the wall. The chandelier hanging from the ceiling was crumpled, dangling precariously by a thread. Every marble pillar in the corridor was cracked, a breath away from collapse.
'Was she actually trying to bring the whole castle down?'
I knew the princess's power was terrifying. Wielding telekinesis without any aid from mana, purely by will alone, was an enormous feat in itself.
But I hadn't imagined she could shake the entire castle and crush stone-hewn pillars and walls. If Elaine had pushed just a little harder, at least the entire third floor would have come crashing down.
By a miracle, however, there was not a single casualty. Only the terrified servants and guards, unable to approach, watching us from a distance.
'I'm not too late.'
I spoke casually to the girl beside me, who was panting just as hard as I was.
"Miss Hanna. Thanks to you, it seems we've arrived just in the nick of time."
"Hah, hah... Don't mention it, Central Officer. You're the one who told me to come straight here."
Sweeping her sweat-soaked red hair back, she muttered,
"That was way too close..."
By the original plan, we almost certainly would have been too late. My first purpose in visiting the castle was a meeting with the Minister about my zero-accident bonus. I had intended to see Minister Katon first, and the princess only afterward.
But something Hanna had said in the carriage had gnawed at me.
"The Princess smiled for the very first time while writing her letters to you, Central Officer. This is the first time she's ever tried to talk to anyone besides me."
"But then the Queen... she suddenly came in and took all the letters away. I was punished for egging the Princess on into something so dangerous."
"When her emotions run high, her power goes berserk... So the Queen cast the Blessing of Tranquility on her by force, and removed everything that might stir her up."
Hope has two faces. The other face is despair.
The princess had hope. Elaine had Hanna. She had the letters, her only window to the world.
But when something precious is snatched away, the emptiness it leaves is felt far more keenly than if it had never existed at all.
'I know exactly how that feels.'
The Sight Officer's voice flickered through my mind. What had I done when I lost her? Emptiness gives way to sorrow, and sorrow gives way to rage. And rage — rage invites destruction.
'In my case, I was lucky enough to have clear targets — the criminal syndicate, and Gerard.'
But for those who possess power yet are suppressed, it's an entirely different matter. A vicious cycle: destruction turned outward on the world, then inward on oneself, breeding only a deeper emptiness.
She had more than enough power for that.
'That's why I scrapped the entire plan and came straight here.'
I checked on Elaine's condition, my face grim.
Her cheeks were hollow, as if she hadn't touched food in days. Her bare feet, pale from never seeing sunlight, had stepped on shards when she shattered the door — blood dripped from them in slow drops. Her brown hair, which should have been neatly kept, billowed as though caught in an invisible wind, overwhelmed by her own strength.
There was none of the somber, hushed figure I had seen in the royal tombs. The Elaine before my eyes now was the herald of a calamity — eerily reminiscent of the Sight Officer on the verge of a mana berserk. A wildfire fierce enough to burn the whole world, and at the same time a candle flame that might gutter out at any moment.
"..."
Only her green eyes, fixed on me, were slowly regaining their light. Even that, though, flickered unsteadily.
Still, there was hope.
'She never crossed the final line.'
She had not killed anyone. Somehow, furious and berserk as she was, no one had been harmed.
'Then this won't spiral beyond saving.'
Property damage and loss of life weigh on entirely different scales. As long as there were no casualties, this was a problem that could be solved by calming her down as quickly as possible. All I needed to do was persuade her to fully withdraw her power.
I spoke calmly.
"Your Highness."
But then the problem surfaced.
"Ah... ugh..."
It was only now that I remembered she suffered from aphasia.
"Oh no."
The situation was bad. What she needed was conversation — not my one-sided talking.
Hanna, who had darted into the room, cried out in a flustered voice,
"Th-there's no paper or pens anywhere!"
The reality struck me anew: the Queen had confiscated the letters, our only means of communication. We couldn't reach her.
"Damn it."
Just then—
"Over here! Over here! The Princess is—"
"How far away are they!?"
"They're coming! She's in the inner courtyard now, so just hold on a little longer—"
At the far end of the corridor, a crowd of people burst into view amid loud shouting. The guards and servants who had fled in terror had returned, bringing reinforcements. One soldier spotted us and yelled,
"Found them! There she is! Get the priests — hurry!"
Priests.
"...!!!"
At that word, Elaine's eyes snapped wide open and her head whipped around.
"Ugh...!!"
Her hand rose again.
- Giiiii-gik...!
The chandelier directly above them began to twist with a grotesque metallic shriek. One more push of strength and it would come crashing down, crushing everyone beneath it.
Damn it all.
"Do not come any closer!"
"It's dangerous over there! The Princess's power—"
"Blast it, I said stay back!"
I whipped my head toward Elaine.
"Your Highness. Don't do this. You don't have to do this!"
Her green eyes wavered, tangled in a storm of feelings. A face that hated them — and hated herself. Eyes that were glad to see us, and at the same time afraid. With her hand still outstretched, she froze, unable to move either way, as if she had no idea what to do or how.
I had to calm her.
- Drdrdrdrd.
That ominous tremor began to rumble through the castle once more. The chains holding the chandelier swayed dangerously.
'Damn it, what do I...'
There was no way. How could I possibly steady her, when she was already shaken beyond anyone's reach? Unless I could talk to her—
'...Talk?'
In that instant, a thought flashed through my mind. I shouted to Elaine at once.
"This officer has a way! So please, stop!"
"...?"
She blinked at me.
"Your Highness — in all this time, you have never once spoken to a single soul, have you?"
Since Lacen's death, Elaine had been afflicted with aphasia. Every word she tried to force out dissolved into mere breath, leaving behind nothing but meaningless moans and wails.
'Fifteen years, forced to live in silence.'
No one had ever understood what she said — and she must have given up on herself long ago.
But I was different.
I took a single step toward her.
"This officer will hear all of it. Everything you want to say — everything you never could. So pour out that grief, here, to this officer."
Disbelief flickered across her gaze.
"..."
She shook her head. There's no point. You won't hear it anyway.My words that no one has ever understood — why would you be any different? She couldn't trust a self that could do nothing but breathe. She couldn't trust what I said.
And still, I pleaded all the more earnestly.
"Trust this officer. It's the only way."
The only thing I had to offer. The one thing I alone could do.
"This officer can hear you. Any words. Any language at all."
"..."
Her green eyes gazed at me in silence. And at last, slowly, she parted her lips.
"Ah... uhhh..."
A short, broken moan.
The moment I heard it, I poured my whole mind into listening. Please. If this power — the Manifestation of a Talent — could truly hear every language... if it was a power that could hear even the tongues of extinct races, then let it hear the words of one who lives, but whose mouth has been sealed shut.
'Perhaps this power was given to me for exactly this.'
I wished for it more desperately than I ever had. I focused with everything I had, more than ever before. Please. Let me hear it.
"Uh... uhhh..."
And finally—
"None of it matters. It's already too late."
It came through.
"No. It is not meaningless."
I answered immediately.
"You are not too late."
Shock flooded Elaine's eyes.
"...What?"
'Impossible.'
Her first thought was disbelief. Even Hanna couldn't hear my words — and yet he had.
She turned her gaze to Nathan. His dark eyes were looking at her, shimmering with relief.
Did I mishear? Is this a dream?
Startled, Elaine stammered her question.
"You... you can hear what I'm... saying?"
"Yes. Perfectly clearly."
He had understood her.
"But... how...?"
"I'll explain that later."
Nathan bowed his head.
"Forgive my impertinence. But I must presume to say this."
And then, he called her by name.
"Elaine."
Her name — the one only her family had ever used — spoken without ceremony. He went on.
"Do not cross that line."
"..."
It felt like a hammer to the skull. He had put his finger precisely on the thing she herself had only faintly, secretly feared — the words no one had ever dared say to her.
"But I... I'm already..."
"No. It isn't too late. That's the very reason we came."
Nathan gestured to Hanna behind him. Hanna Meyer. The girl who had been at her side the longest gave a firm nod.
Then, from far down the corridor, someone called out.
"...Hanna? You're Hanna, aren't you?"
It was the maid who had once delivered her meals in Hanna's stead — the one the Princess had nearly strangled. At her question, Hanna answered bluntly.
"That's me."
"Weren't you banished?"
"I came back."
"Why? Didn't the Queen order you to never set foot near the Princess again—"
Hanna fell silent for a moment. Her being here now was, unmistakably, defiance of a royal order. The punishment for a first offense was harsh — Hanna had suffered it bitterly. But a second offense was something far more terrible. And still, she had come back.
'Why?'
Even Elaine stared at her, questioning. 'You had no reason to go this far for me.'
As much as Elaine cherished Hanna, she had no way of knowing what Hanna thought of her in return.
Hanna hesitated, looking into those green eyes, then said quietly,
"Because I... wanted to help a friend."
"..."
Friend.
At that one short word, her chest ached.
'I wasn't the only one who felt that way.'
It was the first relief she had ever known. Just as Hanna saw her as a friend, Elaine had thought of Hanna as a friend too. Despite the vast gulf between princess and maid, Hanna had never once let it matter. And she was only realizing it now.
Her heart hurt. It pounded so hard it ached. And yet, at the same time, something warm and heavy welled up within her.
- Swish.
Elaine's hand slowly lowered.
No matter how cruel this world may be. No matter how heavy my sins may be. There is someone who understands me. There is someone holding me up.
She asked, cautiously, the question she had never asked anyone — of Nathan.
"Am I a monster?"
Everyone calls me a monster. Do you think so too?
"Who would say that? Anyone with eyes can see you're the Princess."
Nathan frowned, as if the question were absurd.
"Am I... a bad person, then?"
Is it my fate — born wicked, committing sins, remembered in the end as a villainess? Whatever my reasons, what I did was terrible in the end. Does that make my very existence evil?
"To some, perhaps. But to others, no."
It was an honest answer. Nathan turned his head toward Hanna and said,
"But at the very least, this officer and Miss Hanna do not believe the Princess is bad. Isn't that right?"
"That's right! I would never, ever think that!!"
Hanna squeezed her eyes shut and shrieked with all her might.
"Never!! Our Princess did nothing wrong!!!"
Her ringing cry carried all the way down the corridor. Despite the harsh punishment the Queen had given her, not an ounce of her spirit had broken — and at the sight of it, the corner of Elaine's mouth trembled for the first time.
Then, softly, the last question.
"Can I... be forgiven?"
The truth that had hidden deepest of all came spilling out. A confession she had never dared even think.
"Everything I've done... could it ever be forgiven?"
By my brother. By all those people. By myself.
Can I forgive me? Tell me the answer.
My only one who understands. My friend. My precious person. If it's you — do you know the answer?
"I don't know."
Nathan shook his head. At this wholly unexpected reply, Elaine looked up at him. A bitter smile hung on the man's face.
"Even this officer cannot say for certain whether he has ever forgiven himself."
His dark eyes were looking at her, but she could feel that within them, he was seeing someone else layered over her. Someone from a distant past, held in memory. Surely the one for whom he had shed those tears in the royal tombs.
"But even so — there will be a way."
The Central Officer took one step closer.
"Let's find out together."
And he held out his hand.
"The three of us."
Hanna, tears brimming, reached out her right hand alongside his.
"I'll be with you to the very end, Princess."
Brilliant light streamed in through the window, bathing the two of them. Light dazzlingly beautiful — so unlike the darkened room where she had spent her days.
If I take those hands, I can finally be free.
'I want to be there too.'
Unoppressed, and free. Into the world where they stand.
She moved carefully toward it. Slowly, she extended her hand.
And at the very moment the three hands were about to meet—
"Elaine!!"
A voice came — terrible in its familiarity. The woman who had thrown down even her fan and come running, the person Elaine feared above all.
Helena Castor.
"!!!"
Elaine's hand jerked back. The Queen's gray eyes swept the room. She took in the chandelier, mangled beyond recognition, the shattered pillars, the door of the room where her daughter had been confined for years — blown clean off its hinges.
Her face contorted.
"This... this is..."
The memory branded deep into Helena's mind began, once again, to writhe and revive.
"You mean to do it... all over again...?"
There stood her mother, her face twisted in despair — exactly as it had been that day.
"Ah..."
Dread closed in around her. But this time, it was different.
- Swish.
The Central Officer's hand came to rest on Elaine's shoulder.
"It's all right. Elaine — it's all right."
Warmth from that hand reached her. He turned his head and spoke to Hanna.
"Miss Hanna. Take care of Elaine."
"Yes. Leave her to me."
At once, her oldest friend stepped forward and steadied her.
- Thud. Thud.
Between mother and daughter, staring at one another across the wreckage, the Central Officer walked in. With his own body, he blocked Helena from Elaine's line of sight.
"Your Majesty the Queen."
With his expression hard as stone, he glared at the long, bitter connection fate had bound him to. He straightened his attire, and spoke in that calm, unyielding voice unique to Immigration Officers.
"It is the first time we meet since the trial. This officer greets you — Central Officer Nathan Kell."
Deep within himself, he drew a line. A line that would never be crossed. A line that would keep her from Elaine — forever.
"Central Officer...!"
Helena spat his title through gritted teeth.
The twisted oppressor, and the only one who understood, stood face to face at last.