The Approaching Darkness (2)

"Um, Lady Sisilia."

Beatrice stared blankly downward. Sisilia was lying on her lap, reading a report.

"...You're heavy."

"Then read it for me, Betty."

"That's a classified document. If anyone but you peeks at it, it's the death penalty."

Sisilia blinked, then flipped the report upside down. Beatrice hurriedly covered her eyes.

"I-I don't wanna die yet!"

Betty's the best comic relief on long missions.

But Sisilia couldn't hold back a sigh.

Boring.

I need to get back soon and level up my newbies... At this rate, I'll steal their glory.

"I'll just wrap it up roughly and head back."

With things as they were, Sisilia figured she might as well enjoy it and gazed out the window. Time had passed before she knew it—

Beatrice had dozed off with soft snores.

Sisilia let her heavy eyelids drift without resistance.

Shh.

The first-class door creaked open ever so slightly. A wooden staff poked its head through the gap.

Bang!

The staff spat fire. A fireball manifested instantly, hurtling straight at Sisilia's head.

"Ow."

Sisilia rubbed her head, tears pricking her eyes.

**

"You're sure?"

"Yes. By now, Sisilia Windsor’s head should be rolling."

Crown Prince Albert of the Eldrashon Empire wore a satisfied smile ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at his knight's report.

"Amusing. Who'd think a mere twig like this held such power."

Magic staff. This staff, smuggled in from Liannen, granted even commoners tremendous might.

"They never imagined they'd fall to their own weapon."

Albert twisted his lips. Perhaps too many had died in the last war—this nation was now full of cowards.

If they'd done this sooner, everything would have gone smoothly.

With this operation, succession would fall to him. Albert was certain. Even if that arrogant Liannen sought revenge, it didn't matter.

No, it was exactly what he wanted.

"You've killed Sisilia Windsor as promised. Now give me your power."

Albert eyed the petite girl standing quietly by his window.

"For the First Legion Commander of the demon realm, that's child's play."

With the overwhelming force that slaughtered hundreds of thousands of imperial humans, Liannen would be nothing.

"Strange."

But the mysterious girl tilted her head.

"When did I say I'd give you power?"

"W-what? Didn't you promise ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠payment?!"

"I'll give you payment."

The girl smiled sweetly.

"I'll let you live."

Meanwhile, at the final station.

Lizbet waited tensely for the train.

Stay calm, Lizbet. The empire's already in your grasp. Make a strong impression here. Pro-Liannen faction.

She hadn't expected Liannen to come first, but it worked out better. Better to receive them on home soil, where she could act, than as a political hostage doing nothing.

Just—no mistakes. No mistakes.

"P-Princess! Disaster!"

"What is it?"

"W-well."

After hearing her adjutant's report, Lizbet felt her heart drop.

"H-how?!"

She couldn't believe it.

"How can someone with my blood be that stupid...?"

Assassination...? Of an envoy here for friendly ties?

"This makes no sense. Right? It's wrong—this shouldn't happen."

She'd been striving to rebuild Eldrashon—far from helping, this poured oil on the fire.

"Stop it somehow!"

"I-it's probably already in motion."

"...!"

An ominous thought flashed through Lizbet's mind. If she dies—

Gulp.

War immediately. And the outcome was obvious.

Hadn't they seen the power gap firsthand? Eldrashon would surely perish.

"I should have killed him...!"

Her brother, kept alive for political reasons. She realized her folly too late.

Screech.

The train arrived. Cold sweat trickled down Lizbet's cheek.

Dead or alive, it was trouble. She couldn't face that wrath.

Hiss.

The doors opened. Lizbet clutched her pounding heart.

"What happened?"

"Yeah, sounded like a huge commotion."

"There were loud bangs too. From first class?"

Passengers disembarked, and they waited a while.

No one else emerged.

As Lizbet's face paled—

Sisilia appeared, silver hair fluttering. She nodded politely to Lizbet.

"Hello."

"A-are you... unharmed?"

"Oh. You knew."

"I don't know how to apologize. It's all my—"

But Sisilia cut her off coldly.

"I get the gist. No need to explain. Let's go, Betty."

"Yeah. I wanna wash up quick."

Sisilia passed Lizbet. Soon, the blonde girl followed.

"!"

Beatrice was drenched in blood. Lizbet could tell it wasn't hers.

As she passed, Beatrice murmured softly.

"That was a mistake."

"......"

Lizbet bit her lip. Time for a decision.

**

"We've got our casus belli now. Push for forced annexation on the empire front."

Beatrice paused while drying Sisilia's wet hair with a towel.

"...I think that's best too."

"Didn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠expect that. Thought you'd oppose it no matter what, Betty."

Sisilia glanced at her.

"Mad?"

"No, not mad exactly."

Beatrice set the towel down.

"...Too many dead. Just feels off."

"Should I have done it?"

Beatrice smiled bitterly.

"If this doesn't help, I'm unqualified as adjutant."

The train ambush. HP minus 1 or so. It stung a bit, but afterward, more rushed in with knives and staves.

Beatrice handled them all. Before Sisilia could say a word, she bolted out and slaughtered every one.

"But annexation means killing several times more. I don't know how to steal a country peacefully."

"...You felt it too, right? Most assassins were civilians. No mana, no Aura. Forced into it against their will."

And the sights on the way to the capital shocked Beatrice.

"The environment here... Nothing like home. Starving folks with sunken bellies, people alive only because they can't die, hope long gone."

It made her think.

Things unimaginable in Liannen were everyday here.

"Better to annex than let it fester. Her Majesty's rule would surely improve things."

"Dunno. I'd be pissed if someone stole my country out of nowhere."

Beatrice flinched but whispered.

"But if it feels better than before, the anger might fade."

Sisilia shook her head.

"I'm grateful to you, Betty. Because I asked you to dry my hair."

"...You know to be grateful."

"...?"

Sisilia thought it unfair but offered advice for her precious adjutant anyway.

"Help only those who ask. Did they ask you?"

"...No, but."

"Then it's hypocrisy. You saw just a slice—maybe they're happy now. You can't decide their lives arbitrarily."

Sisilia basked in self-satisfaction at her wise words.

"But you're stealing their maybe-happy country."

Sisilia looked up with a cold smile.

"Yeah. I'm doing something really bad right now."

Beatrice smiled bitterly.

"Then I'm the villain's adjutant."

Sisilia straightened up.

"Don't lump me in."

"...Hard to stop you, so watch your front."

"Got it."

Beatrice finished drying Sisilia's hair, feeling oddly lighter than before.

...Her hair takes forever to dry, though.

Knock knock.

Right then, a knock. Having just finished, Beatrice opened the door.

"Uh..."

Beatrice blinked. Lizbet stood there, pale-faced.

"...I have something to discuss."

Holding a dripping box.

**

"I sincerely apologize for what happened. It was unforgivable against an allied envoy. Eldrashon will compensate with every means. Please accept this first."

Lizbet offered the box to Sisilia. Her arm trembled slightly from tension, desperately hidden.

"This is the head of Crown Prince Albert, who tried to assassinate you."

"Quite the novel gift."

Sisilia took the box and peered inside. The prince's unclosed eyes stared back.

She closed it neatly, set it on the table, and smiled brightly.

"Too bad. A bit late."

It was already too late.

For reference, Sisilia rarely changed her mind once set.

"...I never imagined he'd do such a thing."

"It's fine. Stung a little, no threat to life. I know you weren't involved, Princess Lizbet. No plans against you."

Lizbet clenched her fists. In a trembling voice:

"Then the empire...?"

"Seems better as one."

This wasn't mere prince's folly. She'd never see it that way.

Of course. Attempted envoy assassination was perfect war pretext.

No reason for the overwhelmingly stronger side to waste it.

Lizbet's face went blank. Memories of tireless efforts for Eldrashon's future flashed by.

Eyes on the emperor favoring her brother as heir, she'd rallied forces—and only recently gained dominance.

Then solidify, go to Liannen as hostage to enforce treaty. Build friendly ties, finally gain emperor recognition—

She believed she could salvage the darkness.

But it crumbled in an instant.

Still, no surrender.

War meant empire's end. Time for last desperate struggle.

Lizbet chose her best option.

"First Princess of Eldrashon."

Sisilia lowered her eyes. Classic "ready to die" moment.

Cute. Wanted to watch longer.

Pity.

"Lizbet Eldrashon Bellatio La Carmine."

Lizbet moved swiftly.

Thud.

"...!"

Sisilia's eyes widened.

"...I'll stake everything on this declaration."

Lizbet knelt, prostrating flat.

"I pledge eternal loyalty to Sisilia Windsor. Take my head if you wish. So, please, please—"

A whole nation's—empire's—princess kneeling and bowing? Unthinkable in this era.

Even rural lords would die before kneeling.

Thus, Lizbet's voice choked with sobs. Unbearable humiliation.

Words failed, but she half-sobbed them out:

"This incident—please, hic, overlook it. I beg you."

Tears streamed endlessly. Partly from humiliation.

Partly from a princess reduced to mere begging. Her incompetence, the empire's frailty.

But Lizbet's choice was likely the perfect answer among thousands.

Sniff.

"...?"

Sisilia helped her up, gripping her hand tightly. Tears like chicken droppings welled in her eyes.

"Just say 'help me' next time."

Because Sisilia bawled openly at sad movies in theaters.

"If you wanna be empress, just say so."

In short, total sentimentalist.

Above all, Sisilia never refused a pretty girl's plea for help—except Betty's.

For reference, Lizbet's chest was small.