Omen
Omen
Four days after the war.
Two rumors were circulating across the Ahhantera Continent, specifically centered around the kingdoms not yet swallowed by Archesium.
The first was that the war between Dharon and Archesium, which everyone thought would last at least a month or more, ended in a mere two days.
The second was the rumor that the Empire's Empress, Belletria Lien Archesium, was more serious about her man than anyone thought.
And eventually, those rumors reached the Princess of the Ignesia Kingdom, a member of the Kingdom Alliance—Ersil Ignethia.
"... Senia, how is the task I requested coming along?"
Ersil's gaze shifted from the newspaper, which had been delivered to her room as an extra edition, to the maid standing silently beside her after briefly looking down at the tabloid that vividly detailed her childhood friend's love story.
The maid named Senia, in response to the princess's question and gaze, took out a single envelope from her bosom, handed it over, and answered.
"I have secured the safest and most reliable illegal entry route from the biggest mole stationed in the Persera Kingdom."
"... Is illegally entering the Archesium Empire truly safe and reliably possible?"
She had made the request thinking it would be impossible, naturally. But the method obtained was faster and easier than expected.
A light of suspicion glimmered in the princess's eyes.
However, Senia, as if familiar with her reaction, continued her explanation with an expressionless face.
"The scheduled time is a week from now, in the morning. You will board a carriage in the upper part of the continent and climb into the cargo compartment of a carriage loaded with Pollen Wine being supplied from the Pollen Barony on the Rehentra Kingdom's border into the Empire. Apparently, many of Iter's poor actually enter that way."
"... I see."
Despite her habitual suspicion, Senia explained the detailed illegal entry route without complaint. Ersil felt a renewed sense of gratitude and unfolded the envelope Senia had handed over to check its contents.
On the paper, a perilous and complex journey was densely written in a code-like manner: leaving the Ignesia Kingdom, passing through the Iter slums, and crossing the Empire's border.
The part about hiding in the wine carriage's cargo compartment for several days and nights made her breath catch on its own.
But there was something else that frightened Ersil more than that arduous process.
Ersil's white fingertip trembled minutely as she gazed quietly at the densely written letters.
"Senia... What if Idelon's feelings for me have really drifted away?"
Her voice instantly became subdued.
In her eyes, the Empire's newspaper discarded on the table was reflected once more.
There, news of the Tyrant Empress and the illegitimate prince sharing a bed.
And the tender, pure love that bloomed in the middle of the battlefield was plastered with sensational headlines.
She had desperately denied it, insisting it was merely an act for survival,
but the letters kept coming alive, churning her mind.
The suspicion that perhaps Idelon had cleanly cut her off, and she was the only one clinging to lingering feelings, trying to find him.
"If I risk my life and go to the Empire for nothing, only to face his cold expression... What if I'm turned away at the door? No, in the worst case, if I'm seized by the Empress as a hostage on the grounds of illegally entering the Empire, it could cause great harm to the entire Ignesia Kingdom..."
Ersil's lips trembled faintly, engulfed in anxiety.
She rolled her anxious gaze around, clutching and crumpling the hem of her skirt.
She looked precarious, as if she might burst into tears at any moment.
Amidst this, Senia remained motionless, quietly looking down at the princess.
With a gaze that was calm, dry, and devoid of any emotional agitation, as always.
And then, she slowly slipped her hand into the pocket of her apron.
With a small rustling sound, what emerged from her hand was one small, round, transparent bag.
Senia gently unclenched Ersil's tightly gripped hand and lightly placed it on her palm with a tap.
A round, red-tinged apple-flavored candy.
It was the snack Ersil had habitually sought since childhood whenever she felt depressed or anxious.
"Se, Senia?"
"You heard some truth about the situation through the information brokers, didn't you?"
Senia opened her mouth in her usual indifferent tone.
"Idelon-nim is probably acting to survive. He is a person with a stronger will to live than anyone."
"Th, that's right... I know Idelon's survival instinct best."
Ersil's wavering pupils turned toward Senia's impassive face.
"Correct. And in the first place, when he was confined in that hellish detached palace, how long were you, Ersil-nim, his sole pillar of support. Surely he couldn't have forgotten that. In a hostile country with no one to rely on, the only people he can trust are himself and the princess who remained in his homeland."
"Seniaaa..."
Senia lowered her gaze and carefully brushed aside Ersil's disheveled hair.
"So please don't worry about unnecessary things."
It was a dry consolation without a shred of emotional change from start to finish,
but for Ersil, it was a more certain prescription than any flowery rhetoric.
Ersil stared blankly at the candy in her palm, then slowly peeled off the wrapper and pushed it into her mouth.
As the sweet and refreshing apple flavor spread from the tip of her tongue, the tightly clenched muscles of her cheeks gradually relaxed.
Crunch, crunch.
The sound of chewing candy echoed in the quiet room.
Her breathing, which had grown rough with anxiety, also gradually regained stability.
Then, Ersil let go of the force in her hand clutching her skirt and clenched both fists tightly.
"Right! You're correct. There's no way Idelon could have forgotten me."
Vitality began to return to her clear eyes, which had been utterly cowed.
She sprang up from her seat and boldly shouted toward the air.
"After safely arriving in the Empire, I'll confront the Empress head-on! No matter how cruel a tyrant she is, who plunged the continent into terror, she can't just steal someone else's lover!"
Of course, the opponent was a monster who could split a massive castle wall with a single swing of her sword and treat hundreds of lives as trivial.
But in Ersil's eyes, having regained firm trust, determination bloomed larger than fear.
Senia, who had been quietly listening to Ersil's audacious declaration,
raised both hands slowly, her expressionless face unchanging.
And.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
A mechanical applause with an even tempo, devoid of even a speck of soul.
"Our princess, you are truly amazing."
Senia's dry response, sounding as if she were reading from a textbook.
Ersil let out a disbelieving chuckle but smiled back with a now much more relaxed expression.
"I hope the day I can meet Idelon comes soon."
At that moment.
Similarly, I, who had received a newspaper filled with all sorts of sensational and explicit words,
detailing the pure love story between Belletria and the Rehentra Prince,
let out a sigh from the depths of my soul, covering my eyes with one hand.
"Sigh... This is really going to reach Ersil."
Anyway, the Ahantera Newspaper Company, which literally stamped the continent's name on itself.
It's still maintaining its namesake value and the ambition it had when it first established the publishing house.
[We deliver all the news existing on the continent to you faster than anyone. (Please send tips to the public communication channel, Ahantera Newspaper Company!)]
"These fucking bastards."
If you're going to deliver all the news on the continent, deliver it as it is, you crazy bastards. What kind of romance novel have you written here?
[The Extreme Pure Love of the Illegitimate Prince Who Disarmed Even the Bloodthirsty Absolute Ruler! When the impudent Prince of Dharon dared to insult his lover, the cruel Ice Empress lost her reason and tried to strangle his neck on the spot. But the only thing that quelled her fierce rage was the heartrending and earnest gaze of her beloved fiancé.]
[While ordering him bound to prevent her lover from getting hurt, the Empress, unable to bear to turn away from that gaze, willingly sheathed the sword of slaughter she held. Ah, the miracle that even the tyrant who dyed the continent in blood became nothing but a gentle lamb before mere love brightened Dharon's morning!]
"Grrrh...!!"
I picked up the scrap of paper densely packed with type with both trembling hands.
I thought I heard the sound of the string of reason in my head snapping with a snap.
Riiip—!
Finally, unable to contain the rising shame, I tore the newspaper in half.
No, that wasn't enough. I crumpled it many times, tore it to shreds, and scattered it into the air.
"Argh!! I'm really going crazy. A gentle lamb? A heartrending gaze? Just go write a novel, write a novel!"
Just as I had torn all the hideous paper to pieces and was gasping for breath, that was the moment.
Ruamel, who had been silently keeping her place in one corner of the room, cautiously approached.
Then she bent her knees and reached out toward the scattered newspaper fragments at my feet.
For some reason, the hands diligently picking up and holding the paper trash looked extremely familiar.
And as if to prove my thought wasn't a simple delusion, Ruamel spoke while moving her hands even faster.
"It seems the two of you are indeed a match made in heaven."
"...?"
When I looked at her with an expression of incomprehension,
she tightly clutched the gathered pile of paper in one hand and slowly rose.
"Belletria-nim also showed the exact same reaction as Prince Idelon here this morning upon seeing the newspaper."
Ruamel softened her usual stiff tone ever so slightly
and began awkwardly imitating Belletria's languid voice.
"Hoo... Staying still like this, they're really openly chewing, tearing, tasting, and enjoying me. That's what she said."
"... Huh."
'Belletria used the idiom 'chewing, tearing, tasting, and enjoying'? I wish I could have seen it myself.'
Imagining the Empress's expression as she nonchalantly crumpled and threw the newspaper,
the irritation that had been boiling up inside me subsided a little.
Well, that aside, I still need to say my piece.
"If you're going to tease me, go out and do it with the other maids."
When I shot back at her, grumbling slightly, Ruamel also showed a very humane smile.
Then, she proceeded to toss the collected newspaper scraps into the trash can and tried to leave the room.
But her gaze shifted to the large parchment map spread wide on the desk in front of me.
Right after the Dharon subjugation ended almost like a bloodless surrender.
Having been able to relax after entrusting the complex post-war processing to Chief of Staff Volkan and the two division commanders,
thanks to that, a map of the Solti Territory, a resort in the southern part of the Empire, was laid out on the desk instead of operations plans or orders.
"Are you looking at the location for your first trip with Belletria-nim?"
In response to Ruamel's question, I nodded.
"Yes, I plan to depart the day after tomorrow."
"Her Majesty the Empress is also looking forward to it very much. Please create good memories for her."
She left a short farewell, quietly left the room, taking the empty teacup with her.
Clunk.
With the sound of the door closing, I was finally left alone in the room.
I looked quietly down at the circles drawn on the map.
Everything else is unnecessary; I just need to plan the itinerary now.
The first trip, taken with only Belletria and me.
Frankly speaking, the fact that I'll be spending time alone with her made me feel a little...
No, it made me quite expectant.
The genuine affection she has shown me recently.
And the actions of caring for me, seemingly awkward and indifferent, have also been on my mind.
But just as that ticklish sense of anticipation was about to bloom...
'... Ersil.'
My solar plexus throbbed.
Come to think of it, it all started as merely an act for survival.
Acting like a devoted man to win the Empress's favor and preserve my life.
I had a clear goal: to get out of this hellish Empire and return to my first love, Ersil Ignethia.
But what am I doing now?
Planning a trip with the tyrannical Empress who threatens even her homeland, and feeling expectant.
"...... Sigh."
A thick sense of guilt, as if I were committing a terrible wrong against Ersil, suddenly crashed down, weighing on both my shoulders.
Yet, in the end, I clenched my lips tightly, forcibly ignored the tangled emotions, and finished planning the date course.
Whatever happens, I need to continue this act and survive first before I can decide anything, right?