Infamy
"......Cumbersome."
In the mirror, I wore a black dress uniform heavy with ornate gold. When I fidgeted with the decorations on it, one of the servants spoke.
"......Your Grace. Is there, perhaps, some problem...?"
"Too many ornaments."
At that single remark, every servant who had brought the uniform went rigid at once. It wasn't as if I meant to eat them.
"......Our apologies."
"Enough. Is it time?"
"Yes. The carriage has been prepared."
A week had already passed since our arrival in the Imperial Capital. Today was the day of the victory banquet.
"Let's go."
In the garden, a black banquet carriage waited, lavishly dressed.
"This one's been a long time, too."
From long ago, the memory rose of riding this carriage to banquet after banquet.
"It is an honor to serve you again, Your Grace."
I had sunk only briefly into the recollection when a white-haired coachman was already before me, bowing at the waist.
"You still haven't retired?"
"If this old man doesn't drive horses, what's he supposed to live on?"
"I seem to recall sending you off rather generously."
"Heh. Even so, Your Grace ought to be driven by me."
"All right. I'll leave it to you."
The coachman opened the carriage door and spoke.
"Will you board first?"
"No. There's someone I'm waiting for."
"The young lady will be pleased."
"Is that so."
I was trading a few light words with the coachman when a voice came from behind me.
"......Your Grace?"
A black uniform, silver ornament, and the sword worn at her hip came into view, one after another.
"Adelheid."
"Why were you standing out here waiting? You should have boarded first."
As she said it, the corner of Adelheid's mouth lifted, just slightly.
"You're the one who said we should go together."
"......Thank you, Your Grace."
I held out my hand to her. Her eyes went wide, and a moment later she took it and climbed into the carriage.
Once I sat across from her, the coachman shut the door, took his seat, and drew the reins. Beyond the window, the Imperial Capital slid past.
"Your Grace, before we enter the banquet, there's a briefing I ought to—"
"Forget it. Aside from one, there's no one worth remembering."
"......Pardon?"
The corners of Adelheid's eyes trembled.
"At this banquet, all we have to do is clap."
"Might I ask why you say so...?"
"Because we're Nordberg."
Adelheid bit her lower lip, then opened and closed her fist again and again. When she spoke, her voice had sunk low.
"Yes.... I understand."
"Right."
Silence settled inside the carriage. Without another word, we arrived before the Separate Palace, where the imperial banquet hall stood.
I nodded to the coachman beyond the window, and he opened the door as he spoke.
"We have arrived, Your Grace."
"Your driving hasn't dulled a bit."
At that, the old coachman answered with a rough laugh.
"If I couldn't manage even this, I'd starve."
"I'll see that your severance is generous. Will you retire?"
"I'm grateful for the thought, but I must decline."
I stepped down first and held out my hand toward Adelheid.
"......Your Grace...."
Her hand twitched. She only looked at me.
"Don't need it?"
"No...."
Slowly she reached out, took my hand, and set her foot upon the step.
"Let's go in."
It was noisy. Eyes pressed in from every side, and the voices of nobles reached me, murmuring as they looked my way.
The unfilial.
Traitor.
Familiar words.
I left them behind and walked the red carpet. A strange pressure traveled up through my arm, and when I turned to look at Adelheid, her expression had twisted.
"......Your Grace...."
"Enough. What does any of that matter."
Adelheid glared at the nobles, her face saying she could not understand.
"Let's go."
The soldier at the Separate Palace's main gate checked my face. Then, expression stiff, he consulted the guest list and opened the door to let us through.
Once we were inside, a palace attendant who had been waiting approached and bowed.
"Your Grace, I shall escort you."
Following him, we came to a door engraved with the crest of Nordberg.
"We have arrived, Your Grace. I will come for you before the banquet begins, so please rest here until then."
When the attendant left, I sat on the sofa and looked up at the chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
"No matter when I see it, it's a lavish place."
Adelheid took the sofa across from me and looked around the reception room.
"There was a place like this...."
"First time?"
"......Yes. This is my first time at the Imperial Palace...."
She faced me and asked.
"Will it truly be all right if we do nothing in the banquet hall?"
"If you want to do something, do it."
Strength gathered in Adelheid's folded hands.
"Even so, the other nobles' eyes—"
"We've no reason to mind what they think."
Her lips parted, and then she answered calmly, in a voice that seemed to shrink in on itself.
"......I understand...."
Knock, knock, knock. Someone was at the door.
"Am I interrupting?"
A deep navy uniform trimmed in gold. A familiar face.
"Duke Ashford."
The blond man of middle years smiled broadly and came toward me without ceremony.
"Been a while, Grand Duke. Four years, has it?"
"What are you doing here?"
"Word got around that the Grand Duke was attending this banquet, so I stopped by on the chance you'd be here."
His gaze shifted to Adelheid, seated across from me.
"Hoh.... If it isn't the Grand Duke's younger sister."
"Adelheid von Nordberg. I offer my greetings to His Grace Duke Ashford, Grand Admiral of the South, one of the Five Pillars of the Empire."
Adelheid caught the hem of her uniform and offered a formal courtesy.
"Yes, Lady Adelheid. First time we've met in private, isn't it?"
"Yes. I ought to have called upon you first. I apologize."
"Unlike the Grand Duke, your manners are remarkably bright."
"......You flatter me."
Duke Ashford laughed heartily, as if well satisfied with her greeting.
"Duke Ashford. Did you come just to joke?"
"Not at all. My real business is with the Grand Duke."
"What business could you have with me?"
"I'm no good at talking around a thing, so I'll ask straight."
Duke Ashford's dark green eyes fixed on me.
"Why did you break your silence?"
"What do you mean?"
"Exactly what I said. Leaving the Imperial Capital was your own choice, was it not?"
He went on, brow creasing.
"......Four years."
"Yes. Four years."
"It has been a mere four years since the Grand Duke confined His Majesty the Emperor."
Duke Ashford drew himself straight and rested a hand upon his ceremonial sword.
"What purpose could possibly bring the Grand Duke himself to my boy's victory banquet? That's what I want to know."
I watched his hand tap the hilt in a steady rhythm.
"Thinking of drawing it?"
"Don't misunderstand. I know well enough that my sword wouldn't reach the Grand Duke."
Duke Ashford answered with a shrug.
"So when do you intend to answer my question?"
"Is there any reason left for me to stay silent?"
"......Do you mean to drag the Empire back to those days?"
Tendons stood out across the hand on the ceremonial sword.
"I can't tell to what end you're asking."
"Keter von Nordberg.... Did four years of silence truly drive you mad?"
"Mind your words, Duke Ashford. It isn't only the two of us here."
Duke Ashford shot Adelheid a sidelong glance, and his expression twisted.
"I won't tell you to turn back. At this banquet, I ask that you do nothing. This victory banquet matters a great deal to me."
"An order?"
"A request."
"Not a difficult one."
"With words, is there anything one can't do."
Just before he stepped through the door, Duke Ashford spoke toward me.
"......I'll be watching."
"We'll see each other later, in the hall."
Adelheid stared for a long while at the door he had left through. Silence settled over the private room he had swept out of.
"......How unpleasant."
It was that single remark of hers that broke the quiet. She tapped the innocent hilt of her sword, and with the motion her mana began to ripple.
"No particular need to be offended, is there."
"......Does it not displease Your Grace?"
"He didn't invent something that never happened."
Adelheid's eyes lifted to me.
"I'm sorry...."
"For what?"
"My feelings ran ahead of me, and I needlessly made Your Grace hear words you didn't have to hear...."
"It was something I would have had to face eventually."
At that, Adelheid drew the sword at her waist and stared at it as if she meant to bore straight through the steel. Then she spoke, her voice low.
"......At this banquet, I'll do as Your Grace says."
"Right."
Quiet lay over the private room. From the corridor came the sound of hurried feet.
Knock, knock, knock. With the knock came the attendant's voice.
"Your Grace, the banquet will begin shortly. I shall guide you to the seats of honor."
"Let's go."
Through a private passage, the attendant led us to the honored seats prepared on the upper level of the banquet hall.
"......Quite a crowd."
My eyes met Duke Ashford's across the open air, but only for a moment. From below the railing, a loud voice carried up.
"First, I offer my thanks to the honored guests gathered to celebrate our victory on the Western Front. I am......"
At the master of ceremonies' direction, the names of the victory's heroes were called, and they ascended the dais. The deeds of each one who took the stage were read aloud, and a medal was laid upon the chest. Applause followed.
"Paladin Edward Ashford, come forward."
A young man with the same blond hair as Duke Ashford climbed onto the dais.
"You, as a principal figure in the recent battle on the Western Front......"
Cheers rose toward Edward Ashford upon the dais.
"Dawn of the South."
A voice both familiar and firm cut clean through my attention.
"Quite an amusing title, wouldn't you say?"
I looked toward where the voice had come from. Violet eyes were fixed on me—not on the dais below the railing.
"What do you mean, Your Highness?"
"A hero who distinguished himself on the Western Front, and his title is Dawn of the South...."
The Crown Prince spoke as he slowly turned the wine in his glass.
"Rather ridiculous, don't you think, Grand Duke?"