Albireo Delalucia of Achmenes
At that same hour, in the imperial palace at the heart of the Achaemenes Empire, the Imperial Knights stood in grim formation around the royal residence buried deep within the vast castle.
The Emperor was the sun of the empire, and his children its stars. To guard them was the Imperial Knights' greatest honor—and their most inviolable duty. The atmosphere had grown all the more fraught of late, as the struggle for succession intensified.
Inside a chamber where sharp-eyed knights stood watch not only at the door but at every corner, a knight in ice-blue armor reported to a golden-haired man seated with a beauty at each side.
"Your Highness. The search party dispatched toward Elfen Forest has discovered Sir Gladrock's corpse. It appears he was slain by someone we did not anticipate."
Gawain, Commander of the Imperial 2nd Knights—a man who had reached the very peak of Sword Graduate, counted among the ten strongest in the empire—delivered the report with unflappable calm.
The golden-haired man regarded him steadily, then spoke with an expressionless face.
"What is your assessment of this matter, Sir Gawain?"
"My apologies, Your Highness Albireo. The fault is entirely mine."
"No, no. What We desire is not an apology."
Albireo, Second Prince of the empire, fluttered a dismissive hand. Beneath the sacred golden hair that marked the imperial bloodline, sapphire eyes inherited from his mother gleamed with a piercing light.
"We have no intention of blaming a commander merely because a subordinate was defeated. The man was simply a spineless worm. Now, We shall ask again. Sir Gawain. What is your assessment of this matter?"
"There appear to be more than a few irregularities, Your Highness."
"Oh? In what regard?"
Even as he posed the question, Albireo drove his heel hard into the back of the woman sprawled at his feet. A wet, crushing sound. A thin, broken cry tore from her throat.
She was a slender, naked woman, flattened to the floor with a collar around her throat. Her eyes trembled with terror, and her back was a ruin of clotting scarlet. Making toys of slaves was a pastime Albireo particularly enjoyed.
Only after several more kicks did Gawain slowly open his mouth.
"Immediately after our plan to use elven slaves to bring the First Prince's nobles over to our side was disrupted, Your Highness's forces in Orbit came under simultaneous attack. One can only conclude that someone deliberately moved to check our expansion."
"Correct. What matters now, however, is discovering who dared to interfere with Us. Whom do you suspect, hmm?"
Albireo drove his foot into the woman on the floor with brutal force. The women seated at his sides flinched. The slave, struck in the chest, gurgled and twisted—then went still.
Ah. Another filthy common-born slave dead today.
Gawain glanced at the corpse, then quietly lowered his gaze.
The Second Prince possessed talent enough to have claimed the top rank of the Magic Faculty during his Academy years, coupled with a keen political instinct. His abilities were formidable—yet he was given to sudden, unbridled violence and greed. Gawain had sworn his loyalty long ago, and scenes like this were nothing new to him. Killing a slave, however, usually meant the prince was in a truly foul temper. And when his rage ran this high, the sparks could easily fly toward Gawain himself.
Choosing his words with care, Gawain answered.
"If I may venture an opinion, I judge that this recent series of incidents is the work of His Highness the First Prince, Maximilian."
"Is that so? Our Knight Commander offers quite the assessment. Elaborate."
"First, Your Highness's organization in the underground city was not something just anyone could touch. We dispatched Sir Vasquez—counted among the finest in our order—to establish that presence."
"Come to think of it, you were the one who selected Sir Vasquez, were you not?"
"That is correct."
"And?"
Gawain swallowed dryly under Albireo's icy stare, which seemed to lay the blame for that poor choice of personnel squarely at his feet.
"Factoring in that Sir Gladrock and the slave hunters were all slaughtered in the forest, a force of at least vice-commander caliber must have been involved. There can be no doubt that His Highness Maximilian acted to check Your Highness."
"Hrm."
Albireo's brow furrowed in thought. Nothing Gawain had said was wrong. And yet something sat uneasily with him—a sense that something remained hidden. After a long moment of contemplation, Albireo draped an arm over the shoulder of the woman beside him.
"Our elder brother, as expected. Circumstantial evidence in abundance, yet not a shred of physical proof left behind."
"I concur. Exceedingly thorough work."
"We shall have to reassess our brother. All that high-minded posturing, and he strikes his younger sibling in the back first."
Albireo seized the breast of the woman beside him in a crushing grip. A thin, broken moan spilled from her lips. Kneading her ample flesh, he continued.
"His Majesty's health deteriorates by the day. The appointment of a Crown Prince cannot be far off. We must settle the balance of power before a full confrontation with our brother. What news of Eustia?"
"She still shows no inclination to come under Your Highness's banner."
A blunt, unhesitating answer. Gawain's brow twitched at the casual declaration that a member of the imperial family would be killed.
"She is, after all, the one they call the Treasure of the Empire. Are you certain?"
"That is precisely why she must die. Should she ever raise a banner against Us, she would become a considerable nuisance. We shall arrange an accident at the Sword-Magic Festival a month from now."
He released the woman's breast and picked up the glass from the table.
"Dafhausen 30 Year. A whisky called the finest of the fine. Nothing soothes a brother's heart quite like this, when he must bid his little sister farewell."
Albireo sent the fierce liquor down his throat and exhaled a long, rich breath.
Gawain knew. Albireo felt not a shred of guilt at the prospect of murdering his younger sister. This was nothing more than a performance. All one needed to do was watch. One had to take care, however, that no interloper crashed the stage.
"Your Highness, I would recommend you take caution regarding Grand Duke Behirit Divelion."
"The Grand Duke?"
"Yes. You will have heard that he publicly humiliated Sir Lucius, whom we had assigned as Her Highness the Princess's escort."
"The second son of Count Grendal, yes? Indeed. We know not what business took him to the Academy, but he certainly made a spectacle of the man."
"And afterward, there have been multiple eyewitness accounts of him meeting privately with Her Highness Eustia."
"Oh?"
A gleam of interest lit Albireo's eyes.
"Has the Grand Duke joined hands with Eustia?"
"It would appear so. Whether he coveted the beauty of the so-called Treasure of the Empire, I cannot say—but that they are deeply involved is beyond question."
"Hah. A man called the Iron-Blooded Grand Duke, who has attained the rank of Sword Master—would he truly lose himself in some paltry love affair?"
Albireo swirled his glass, ice clinking. His eyes sharpened, as if piercing through to the truth.
"He intends to become a member of the imperial family through marriage to Eustia. He will make her emperor, then seize the real power for himself. There can be no other explanation."
Gawain started at Albireo's words. If that were true, a colossal player had just entered the succession struggle. As if the First Prince were not headache enough already.
"To join hands with the princess they call the Treasure of the Empire, all to use her. A truly terrifying man."
"We agree. It seems We shall have to meet him."
"Your Highness intends to go to the Grand Duke in person?"
"We hear he is currently residing in the capital. To meet a dragon, one must go to the dragon's nest. And We would confirm a certain possibility, however remote."
Albireo set the glass on the table with a sharp click and rose. Gawain fell in beside him.
"What possibility, Your Highness?"
"If the Grand Duke has truly allied with Eustia, then the one who interfered with my plans may well be the Grand Duke himself."
"That—!"
If that conjecture proved correct, it would be the worst possible outcome. Leaving the stunned Gawain to absorb the implication, Albireo spoke.
"Nothing is certain yet. We shall have to meet him in person and confirm it. Prepare for Our departure."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Gawain bowed deeply at the waist. As they stepped through the door together, Albireo's sapphire eyes gleamed with a killing frost.