Jealousy
Looking back, Elda had sensed it from the very first moment they met. Licht was no ordinary man. The mask had made that obvious enough at a glance — but what she had felt ran far deeper than appearances. She had known, in some primal way, that he was a being who stood above other people.
Perhaps it was the animal instinct she had been born with as a daughter of the northern tribes. Or perhaps the keenly honed senses of a swordswoman. Either way, she had assumed some noble, for reasons of his own, had hidden his identity to compete in the Sword and Magic Festival.
And yet.
I never imagined it would be this...
Hair darker than the night sky. A face that held a decadent beauty, yet possessed a fierce masculine strength. And the instant he removed the mask, a vast power poured forth, crushing the very air around them.
Looking at the man who held the title of Sword Master — the pinnacle of the blade — Elda pressed her thighs tightly together.
Why was the man hailed as the strongest in the Empire standing in a place like this? The reality before her eyes was so hard to believe that she could only stand there, dazed.
Behirith swept his hair back and spoke.
"Whew. Wearing a mask is a real nuisance. Well? Do you recognize me?"
"Uh... Y-you're the Grand Duke, right?"
"Oh. You knew right away. Allow me to introduce myself properly. I'm Behirith. Sorry for deceiving you — it wasn't by choice."
The red-eyed man offered his apology in a rich, low voice, smooth as honey. Elda's womb gave a hard, answering throb.
H-he's so handsome...!
That captivating, thoroughly masculine face. The overwhelming aura that flowed from him as naturally as breath. The strong man she had longed for all her life was standing right in front of her, and it felt like a dream.
And more than anything else...
I heard the Grand Duke told the exact same story I did.
The tale of the stars her grandmother had told her as a child, the two of them gazing up at the night sky together. Those precious words had been what held her dreams upright. And according to Student Luke, the man standing before her had recited that story word for word.
T-this has to be fate. He has to be the one...
Elda covered her flushed cheeks with her palms. The feeling that had been quietly kindling even before he removed the mask roared up as if someone had thrown oil on it. He was everything she had ever wished for — her fated match. The word Hubby nearly slipped through the gap in her lips.
Then a memory flashed through her mind.
Wait... does that mean I stuffed my face like that in front of the man who's going to be my husband?
When they had bumped shoulders in the festival's commercial district, she had been holding three chicken skewers in one hand and eating them. And that had not been the end of it. She had wolfed down the salt bread he had shared with her as if she had not eaten in days. She intended to take this to her grave, but after they had said their goodbyes she had also polished off four roasted potatoes she had brought herself from the north.
...What if Hubby thinks I'm a pig later?
Then again, everything she ate went straight to her chest and her hips... and wasn't that the sort of thing men liked?
Ugh... I've never even dated a man. I have no idea...!
The anxious thoughts chased one another in a tightening spiral. Then Behirith gently took her by the shoulder.
"Hey. You all right? Your face has gone a little dark."
"Ah, it's nothing."
"Hm... Well, all right. If you say you're fine, that's a relief."
"M-more importantly, Hu— Grand Duke, why did you enter the Sword and Magic Festival?"
Elda asked, stumbling over the words, wound tight as a bowstring. Behirith paused at the question that cut to the heart of the matter. Then his brow furrowed, and he answered in a low voice.
"It's complicated to explain, but... simply put, I'm here to protect Her Highness Eustia."
"To protect the Princess?"
"That's right."
Behirith's expression hardened. Elda reeled at the sudden mention of Her Highness's name.
"B-but Her Highness is called the Treasure of the Empire. She has the support of so many of the Empire's people... Who would dare threaten her?"
"Hah... That's..."
Behirith let the sentence trail off, and a genuine dismay settled over Elda. As far as she knew, the Princess was not someone who inspired that kind of hatred. It was not a conclusion drawn from the everyday face the girl showed the world. Serving as a professor at the Academy, Elda had heard enough stories to feel the truth of her character. Her Highness went far beyond mere kindness. She was someone who sincerely feared for the Empire's safety and thought of its future.
Elda had never said it in front of anyone, but if she had been asked to choose which of the two princes and the princess should become emperor, she would have chosen Her Highness without hesitation. And now someone was trying to harm her. Whatever the background, as a citizen of the Empire — and as a professor of the Academy — she could not pretend she had not heard it.
I have to find out who's targeting Her Highness.
Elda met Behirith's eyes with a grave expression. She did not press him. She did not repeat the question. She simply waited for him to speak.
"......"
The roar of the arena felt a world away. A quiet air hung in the room. For a long time the two of them held each other's gaze in silence. Behirith studied Elda's face as if he meant to see through it. Then, slowly, he opened his mouth.
At the same hour Behirith was speaking with Elda, a girl with hair the color of the sun and sacred golden eyes stepped up onto the arena stage.
Every gaze in the colosseum's vast stands gathered on that single girl. Eustia, Imperial Princess of the Empire, swept her eyes restlessly across the crowd, searching for someone.
Grand Duke... where are you?
The man who had come to her like a miracle, when she had been pushed aside in the imperial household, overshadowed by her two older brothers. Her heart raced whenever she met his eyes. Looking at the breadth of his back, she felt safe. In this very festival he had entered the tournament himself to fight for her sake. After showing tens of thousands of people a strength that had left them stunned, he had yet to reappear.
I thought he would come watch my match. Is he busy, perhaps?
A flicker of disappointment crossed her, and she shook her head, brushing it away. Something urgent she did not know about might have come up. However much she wanted to see him, she could not simply cling and pout. Had they not spoken every night until yesterday through a communication magic crystal? At the very least, now that she was standing in the match, she would show him a steadfast face even if he was not there. She would win, and she would tell him proudly: because of you, I gave it everything I had.
As Eustia steeled that resolve, a long-haired mage in a red robe bowed from the opposite side of the stage.
"Robus Blaze, Fifth Seat of the Magic Tower, presents his greetings to Her Highness, the Treasure of the Empire. It is a tremendous honor to be permitted to cross magic with Your Highness."
"It's Eustia. On this stage, I set aside the title of princess. I stand here to be recognized as a mage, so there's no need for such excessive courtesy."
"My, I see. In that case, I too shall give my all to defeat Your Highness."
Robus grinned, his gestures theatrical. Eustia faintly furrowed her brow.
One of the agents Brother Albireo planted — the ones the Grand Duke warned me about.
Robus Blaze. A man regarded even within the Magic Tower as a considerably powerful battle mage. She had heard he had risen to the Fifth Seat in his thirties, earned recognition for his skill, and entered her brother's service. To draw a fighter of this caliber from the very first round... could she win?
Stop.
Eustia snapped at herself. She was no longer the frail princess she had once been. For this festival she had trained directly under Count Raphaela, Vice Tower Master of the Magic Tower. And the most lethal trap her brother had laid had already been dismantled.
To sabotage the Protective Artifact... If Count Raphaela hadn't replaced it with a proper one, it would have been a disaster.
A cold fury settled in those golden eyes, which were always so full of warmth. However famous she was as a kind princess, she was no fool who would extend warmth to those who sought her life. Eustia touched the Protective Artifact on her arm and let her fighting spirit catch fire. Robus drew up his mana with a twisted little smile, and the gong that marked the start of the match rang out.
"Aero Bomb."
"Freezing Shield."
Both mages began their incantations the instant the match began. A compressed bomb of air came screaming toward Eustia — and a shield of ice snapped into place just in time, taking the blast for her.
A thunderous boom tore through the arena. The real fight was on, and the colosseum caught fire with it. Giving her no room to breathe, Robus immediately wove a mana formula and brought another spell into being.
"Explosion."
The fire-attribute blast spell, Explosion. The ease with which he chained two different elements drew gasps from the stands.
"Wind magic and fire magic back to back — no wonder the Magic Tower recognizes him as a powerhouse!"
"Her Highness isn't going to have an easy time winning this!"
The crowd buzzed and fluttered. As the explosion took shape before her eyes, Eustia kept her expression perfectly calm.
I expected this much.
She had already known her brother would bring skilled people to kill her. And the training she had done to meet that threat had not been lacking. The instant the blast came down, she unfurled a curtain of water around herself.
"Hydro Field."
A rushing hiss of water. Then a pattering rain. The explosion's aftermath sent water soaring high and soaking the stage. A faint look of admiration crossed Robus's face as he drew up mana for his next attack.
"As expected of Your Highness. You considered that using Freezing Shield would send ice shards flying from the blast, and chose a different defensive spell instead. An excellent judgment."
"I'm grateful. But do you have the leisure to chat?"
Eustia's warning landed. Robus started and looked down — and iron-hard ice had already locked around his ankles. Ice Ground: a spell that sheeted the earth in ice and sealed an enemy's movement. The moment he realized she had detonated Hydro Field to soak the stage and create the perfect conditions for it, his face twisted.
"Ghk! You little schemer...!"
A grinding crack of spreading frost. The frozen ground claimed more and more of the stage. Ice climbed from Robus's ankles to his knees, and Eustia wove a mana formula to deliver the finishing blow.
"Icicle Spear."
A sharp lance of ice took shape at once. Eustia's eyes lit as she seized the opening.
I can do this!
He might still block this attack. But if she kept pressing, she would have a chance. At her will, the ice spear came down like a thunderbolt — and an instant before it reached Robus, it burst apart with a roar.
"Did I get him...?"
Eustia murmured, her vision blurred by the blast. But the Protective Artifact did not declare the match over. A moment later, a voice thick with rage rolled across the stage.
"Inferno."
High-Tier Fire Magic
Robus's face twisted in the dense steam. Flames that looked ready to burn the world to ash swept across the stage.
"I-Inferno! He used high-tier fire magic!"
"Incredible! Even with the magical wards, you can feel the heat all the way up in the stands...!"
"At this rate Her Highness's ice is going to melt completely!"
The crowd stared in shock at the feast of fire that had unfolded in an instant. Eustia's expression hardened as she watched Robus tear himself free of the ice by brute force. In a battlefield of fire and frost, the two mages' incantations came one after another. They moved, they cast, their spells collided, and the noise of combat kept exploding across the round stage. With every passing moment, the domain of fire swallowed more of the water and ice.
I can't let this continue...
Eustia wove mana formulas without rest, biting down on her lip. In raw magical talent she held the advantage — but in years of training and in experience, Robus crushed her. As the tide turned steadily against her, she flicked a glance toward the nobles' viewing box.
Her brother was sitting there, smiling faintly.
She could not give up. Assassinating her through the sabotaged Protective Artifact had not been his only plan. Putting one of his own people on the winner's podium was part of it too. She would not let that plan succeed.
Through the relentless exchange she kept unfolding her magic with fierce concentration — and then her gaze found a place in the stands.
Ah?
Time seemed to stop. As if a mask could keep her from knowing him. They had spoken face to face every night through communication magic, and he had even told her in advance that he would compete wearing one.
Yes.
Grand Duke...
The man she had wanted so badly to see was watching her. Eustia's heart flared hot. A smile of pure delight was about to bloom across her face —
......
— and then the black-haired, black-eyed woman standing beside him entered her vision at the same time, and Eustia's expression went rigid.
Why are you standing there with the Grand Duke...?
She could not understand it. Explosions and roaring filled the battlefield. In that slowed stretch of time, Eustia stared with a cold face at the woman beside Behirith.
A woman standing pressed so close her ample breasts nearly brushed his arm. A professor of the Academy's Knight Faculty. Elda Ferrenka. That beautiful woman, the object of every knight student's longing, was plastered to the side of the man Eustia had so desperately wanted to see — wearing the look of a female in heat.