McHart, Subjugation (3)
Seraphin's sudden appearance was a variable my plan had never accounted for. After all, this had been a covert operation built from the ground up to kill McHart — a figure tied to the imperial family — which was precisely why I hadn't breathed a single word of it to Seraphin, herself a member of that same imperial house.
It wasn't that I distrusted her, exactly. It was that with someone of her standing — an imperial princess — the very notion of passing along a message *secretly* was impossible. And what I would have been conveying was regicide, no less. One misstep, one poorly chosen word, and I'd be lucky if the worst that happened was an assassination attempt before the deed was even carried out.
Still, the fact that Seraphin showed up here was something that never happened in the original story (in the original, Seraphin remained a virgin across every single route), which meant I could make a rough guess: her appearance was connected to me, to McHart, or to Gehmajoshigi-gwat. I had no idea how she'd found out — but then, this was Seraphin. She had plenty of means, whether it was the intelligence network available to royalty, or perhaps she'd glimpsed today's scene in a vision of the future.
"From this point forward, only those prepared to take responsibility for their words may speak. Anyone who disrupts this assembly — an assembly meant to weigh right and wrong — with pointless chatter will be remembered. I have an excellent memory."
Thanks to Seraphin's arrival, the riotous crowd was swiftly brought under control. It was a feat that neither I nor Ethan could have accomplished with a word or two of our own — so either way, I owed her one, however reluctantly.
"S-Seraphin! Make this lunatic get off me, right now! This bastard has the audacity to — I'm royalty, and he…!"
Meanwhile, McHart, pinned beneath Ethan's feet, clung to Seraphin's appearance like a drowning man seizing a lifeline. Of course, since both of their forearms were sliced open, had an actual rope been thrown down, he wouldn't have been able to grab it anyway.
Seraphin looked at McHart's face, wore an expression of open displeasure, and clicked her tongue under her breath — her dislike of him radiated clearly enough for even me to feel it, just as it had in the original story.
Fortunately, she'd been facing away from the crowd when her face twisted, so only Ethan and I caught that particular expression.
"Haven't I always told you, McHart? Sow your wild oats, seducing other people's women without a shred of restraint, and one day someone will come for you with a blade — royalty or not."
"N-no, that's…! I-I never—"
"I have seen with my own two eyes at least some of the times you pawed at Miss Lilith, so deny it all you like now — I won't believe a word of it."
"...J-just save me already! Your own brother is about to be cut down by this maniac!!"
"…Sir Ethan, would you please lower your sword? I understand the sentiment driving you, truly — but he is still my brother, you see."
It was Seraphin's way of saying, *I get why you're furious, but you share blood with him, and if you don't save him, there will be consequences* — softened as much as the words could bear.
Naturally, Ethan was a noble too, so he understood her meaning without any need for interpretation. But even so, he did not lower his sword. The blade remained exactly where it was.
"With all due respect, Your Highness, I cannot. This prince threatened my fiancée, Lilith, and tried to take her from me. I have seen with my own eyes him wielding the power of the demons to sate his own vile desires. For the future of the Argentia Empire and for the honor of the Valtorian imperial house, ending this man's life here is the wiser course."
…So now he just announces it to the world — *my fiancée*.
I knew there was no way to explain our complicated, tangled relationship in the middle of a situation like this, but hearing Ethan refer to me as his fiancée, out loud, in his own voice — it made my skin prickle every single time.
And I wasn't the only one whose face flushed at his words. Though in their case, it seemed to be red for a slightly different reason than mine.
"Prince M-McHart is a demon?! That's slander!"
"He swings a sword at a prince and now he's lying through his teeth to save his own skin!"
"Let the prince go! You murderer!"
McHart's followers, scattered through the crowd, hurled a volley of accusations at Ethan, and among them were young noblewomen so worked up they started grabbing whatever was at hand and hurling it.
Fans and handkerchiefs never really made it airborne with any force, but one projectile — for some reason possessed of surprising velocity — came flying straight toward the side of Ethan's head, and I caught it in my vision just in time.
I snatched it out of the air with a desperate reach and found myself holding an empty champagne glass. If it had flown true, it would have unquestionably cracked against Ethan's skull.
*Thwip!*
"......"
"......"
The instant my gaze swept toward the crowd to flush out whoever had thrown something so clearly over the line, several young ladies began avoiding my eyes with all the subtlety of a stage performance.
That absurd spectacle — commit the crime, then scramble to dodge responsibility the moment it turned inconvenient — made the hand gripping the champagne glass tighten all on its own.
*CRACK!*
"Hiii-yah!"
"......!"
…Regrettably, the culprit was never identified. But at the very least, nothing else came flying after the champagne glass. I can't say I understand exactly why the young ladies who'd been in an uproar over Ethan's words suddenly went so quiet, though.
"Thank you for quieting them down for me, Miss Lilith."
"I'm sorry?"
Having tossed me that completely unreadable remark, Seraphin turned her gaze back to Ethan and picked up the conversation where it had left off — with a question of whether he was prepared to stand behind what he'd just said.
"Sir Ethan, that statement of yours could, depending on the circumstances, be taken as an insult not only to my brother McHart but to me as well, his blood kin. Are you prepared to answer for it?"
"I am not insulting you, Your Highness. What I am saying is simply that this man called upon demonic power to threaten my fiancée. At worst, it is McHart's personal deviation — I have never once entertained the suspicion that the Valtorian imperial house itself is entangled with demons."
"I see. So you are saying that because my brother McHart may be connected to the demons, you intend to kill him now to leave no loose ends behind."
"I-it's obvious that kind of talk is j-just a lie! Anyone with eyes can see he doesn't want to be saddled with the crime of regicide, s-so he's making it up!"
"…Understood. I think we'll need to hear a little more from both of you, but first — let us treat my brother. We can resume this immediately once his treatment is properly finished."
"I have told you plainly that Prince McHart used demonic power. That you would insist on treating him anyway — does this mean, Princess Seraphin, that you have no intention of believing me either?"
"Because so far, it is nothing more than your one-sided claim, Sir Ethan. Can you present evidence, right now, that my brother McHart is a demon?"
"…By the Saintess's authority — if we unveil the *Mirror of Truth* —"
"Yes. But until that 'Mirror of Truth' is used to reveal the truth, nothing has been proven. Whether my brother McHart is truly connected to the demons — or whether you, Sir Ethan, are lying to me."
"......"
"Even if my brother McHart is indeed guilty, if he dies with that crime never brought to light, then you too will not escape punishment, Sir Ethan."
Seraphin was right. If McHart died before we could prove whether or not he was entangled with the demons, it was Ethan and I who would be left in an impossible position.
His death could only come *after* his connection to the demons had been laid bare. That was the whole reason I'd given Ethan one final warning not to kill him.
To Ethan, who still hesitated with his sword unbowed, Seraphin murmured in a low voice.
"Put the sword away for now, Sir Ethan. If only for your own sake — I am here to help you."
The whisper was so quiet I could barely make it out, but standing behind him, I could still see the hand clutching Ethan's sword loosen, just slightly.
"And if it is proven beyond doubt that Prince McHart is connected to the demons — what will you do then, Princess Seraphin?"
"I wish I didn't have to believe it. But if he is connected to the demons, then even if he is royalty, he must face the punishment that entails."
"…Understood."
*Hooo, haaa.*
At Seraphin's final words, Ethan sheathed his sword and stepped down off McHart's body. It seemed the plan, for now, was to follow Seraphin's lead — establish right and wrong first, punish after.
*'It's not the picture I had in mind, but either way, the worst-case scenario is off the table.'*
If McHart had simply died here — or been killed — not even Ethan could have walked away from it unscathed.
Which was why the original operation called for McHart's demonic nature to be exposed naturally, by a third party. The Hero, Serista, and Agnes would all gather as planned to subjugate him, and at the very moment before his death, I would use the *Mirror of Truth* to draw the traces of his demonification out of his body.
Then, with his life finished in that state, the corpse would be left in the back garden of the detached palace to be discovered the following morning. With the Blessing of Concealment, I could keep anything left in a particular spot unnoticed for days at a time.
The corpse, found by an uninvolved third party, would reveal McHart's connection to the demons to the world, and Ethan and I would act as though we'd had nothing whatsoever to do with it, drifting serenely back into daily life. That was the original plan. …Of course, that was no longer possible now.
Which meant that at the very minimum, I had to expose the proof that McHart was a demon, here and now, in front of everyone. It was one thing that the plan had gone sideways and we'd picked up an audience along the way — but I could not, would not, let Ethan wear the false charge of regicide.
"Miss Serista."
"......"
"Miss Serista. Would you come out for a moment?"
At the saintess's name spoken from Seraphin's lips, a low murmur rippled through the crowd — but Serista still made no move to show herself from within their ranks.
*Murmur, murmur.*
*Rustle, rustle.*
"......"
And so the crowd did it for her, parting their steps to reveal her where she stood.
Around the young woman who was, to anyone with eyes, skulking alone in the middle of the crowd behind a suspicious eye mask, the other attendees drew back into a great, wide circle.
"…Um, e-excuse me…."
"......"
"I-I think there's been some kind of m-misunderstanding…. I-I'm not the Saintess Serista, I was simply passing by and happened to stop in for the social, that's all…."
"Miss Serista, there's no time for games."
"It really is her. I *thought* she looked familiar."
"Did you honestly believe no one would notice?"
"......"
Blushing furiously amid the murmuring crowd, Serista took a few steps forward and quietly pulled off her eye mask.
Honestly — wearing that thing somewhere like this just makes you stand out more, you know? Truly.