5. A Conflict Named Desire - 03
5. A Conflict Named Desire - 03
Bianca del Castana.
The eldest daughter of House Castana, recognized as the Empire's greatest magical lineage, and a peerless archmage who, ten years from now, would be counted among the five strongest on the continent. She could wield five wholly different spells simultaneously through chantless casting and could momentarily match the firepower of a witch's magic itself—the mightiest mage in the mortal world.
More than that, her unique magic—the "White Flame's Lament"—was a transcendent horror whose destructive force was regarded as the pinnacle of all magic currently castable by humankind. I hardly needed to elaborate; I knew exactly how terrifyingly, absurdly strong that spell was.
Because before my regression, I had personally witnessed—with my own two eyes—the main keep of the Estel Duchy melting away like ice cream in the blazing sun under the White Flame's Lament Bianca had unleashed. The mere memory sent a violent urge to wring that woman's neck surging through me. Setting aside, for a moment, whether I actually possessed the ability to do so.
Nor did it end there. It was said that Bianca, having received "Mana's Blessing" from the very instant of her birth, had her body reconstructed into the most perfect proportions a human being could possess. Thus she could maintain that uniquely impeccable appearance at all times without the slightest effort in her life.
Her house, perfect. Her magic, perfect. Her looks, perfect. A woman who, on the surface, lacked absolutely nothing—truly, devastatingly flawless. That was the world's assessment of the woman called "Bianca del Castana."
But what did any of that matter? Over the past year, throughout all my time spent alongside Bianca, I'd never once entertained a sentiment about her other than this:
'The damn bitch.'
There was no need to compose some lofty critique. How many times had that woman turned my uniform inside out over the course of the expedition? She had not a shred of decency, her manner of speaking was as blunt as a cudgel, and for reasons she never deigned to explain, she'd clashed with other members of the expedition force to a degree I couldn't even begin to count.
Watching Bianca behave like that, I privately nicknamed her "the rabid dog." Truly, a nickname that could not have suited her more perfectly.
Among her multitude of flaws, what drove me absolutely insane was how much Bianca delighted in tormenting me. In Bianca's mind, I was probably no different from the pet dog she'd raised at home.
How else could she order me around and work me to the bone like a dog?
Yet that didn't mean I could throw rank to the wind, lose my mind, and challenge her to a fight. How could anyone strike at a terrifying woman who could melt the main keep of the Estel Duchy as though it were cheese? In a way quite distinct from the Imperial Princess, Bianca was a woman who had sown sheer dread in my heart.
The one sliver of comfort I had was that the Estel Ducal House and House Castana were not simply enemies, but sworn, eternal adversaries. Since they loathed even seeing each other's faces, despite being next-door neighbors, the prospect of coming face-to-face with that woman Bianca was vanishingly remote. Aside from those unlucky handful of childhood encounters before my regression, she was a woman with whom I'd had no reason whatsoever to be entangled. So I had been thoroughly convinced I wouldn't have to see her face in this life either—that is, until I learned that Bianca, of all people, had assumed the role of chief representative for the delegation dispatched from House Castana.
The moment I heard those words from my father, despair crashed over me so swiftly that I clamped my eyes shut without realizing it. It hadn't been long since my wholly unwanted reunion with the Imperial Princess in the capital, and now to face Bianca in quick succession—it was obvious this would place an immense strain upon my heart.
"...Could Your Grace not speak with the delegation personally?"
I exhaled a long sigh and conveyed my refusal to my father. I would have obeyed his word if it were some ordinary matter, but sitting down across a table and holding a conversation with that woman Bianca was not something I was remotely inclined to do, no matter how I thought about it.
"Why must you be like this? Surely this isn't on account of that child Bianca?"
I don't know how he discerned it, but my father had pinned down the reason behind my refusal with uncanny intuition.
"Yes."
There was no hiding it anyway, so I confirmed his suspicion with quiet assent.
"And why is that? Could it be because you dislike the child?"
"...Well, I wouldn't say that."
Truthfully, I didn't dislike the woman called Bianca. And no, it wasn't because I possessed some wretched predilection for deriving pleasure from being tormented by the fairer sex. ...It was simply that I felt hating her now held no meaning. I had regressed ten years into the past. Everything I'd suffered in the future had become events that never occurred. Burning with blind hatred toward people of the past based on something as unsalvageable as a future that was now gone—well, that would be nothing short of supremely exhausting.
All that remained was the modest wish that I simply never had to be entangled with her again for the rest of my life.
My father frowned, as if trying to parse what to make of my ambiguous answer.
"Why must you be so? When you were younger, you two were often seen playing together."
"...Playing together, Your Grace? That was nothing but a curse of association."
"A curse?"
Yes. A curse. For high-ranking nobles like a Duke or a Marquis, there were always one or two occasions where attendance was mandatory regardless of one's personal wishes. And on such occasions, Bianca and I would end up face-to-face against both our wills.
Let me state for the record that Bianca was already a mannerless, rotten-to-the-core girl from a young age. I still vividly recall that girl's first words upon setting eyes on me when we met.
'...Get out of my sight.'
'...What?'
'You really are an idiot. Haven't you heard the rumors that a monster of a girl was born into House Castana? Don't loiter around me and get yourself hurt. Get lost, over there.'
Truly, a haughty girl whose insolence had pierced the heavens since childhood. Unable to stomach the sight of her holding her head high, convinced of her own greatness, I gave Bianca—who clearly thought she was someone—a piece of my mind.
'You're only from a marquis house—who are you to give me orders? Mine is a ducal house. So much posturing from such a little brat.'
And so Bianca and I had rolled around in a proper, no-holds-barred brawl. And highly regrettably, I was pummeled by a girl younger than me. To be honest, it had been a profoundly unfair fight. How in the world was I supposed to beat a monster of a woman who had apparently been learning to handle mana since birth?
Still, Kain von Estel wasn't the sort of man whose spirit would crumble just because he took a few hits from a girl with such tiny fists. Above all, the honor of the Estel Ducal House rested upon my back. Losing to most anyone else was unavoidable, but losing to that girl from House Castana—that, I absolutely could not permit.
Ever since, every time I'd run into Bianca, I'd persistently pick a fight, and every time, the two of us threw ourselves at each other. The last time I'd met Bianca, I feel like we might have actually exchanged some words of substance, but I can't recall the details well. Frankly, how could I be expected to remember such a trivial thing?
"...Honestly, you really are a fool. Were you not my own child, I would have beaten you to within an inch of your life."
"...Pardon?"
"Enough. What's the point of wasting my breath explaining it to a blockhead like you? As the head of the Estel Ducal House, I command you: shut your mouth and receive the delegation politely. There will be no rebuttal. Do you understand?"
"....."
***
"Well then, Father. I shall go and return."
"Do so. I have delegated full authority to you, so see that you do as you wish. Worry not about any consequences."
Having nodded at my father's encouragement, I offered him a light bow of the head and was about to depart for the reception room with the few knights I'd selected to "host" my old friends from House Castana—
"Lord Kain, Lord Kain!"
"...? What is it, Aria?"
Suddenly, Aria came dashing up to me out of breath and immediately latched tightly onto the hem of my clothes.
"May I—may I not go with you, Lord Kain? I will not be a hindrance. I want to be of some help, no matter how small. Please."
Aria looked up at me, her eyes sparkling. Frankly, those eyes were unfair—downright foul play. When someone made a request with eyes like those, there was simply no refusing.
However, I rejected Aria's request without a flicker of hesitation. I could not grant it.
"No. That, I cannot permit, Aria."
"...Pardon? Why not?"
At my refusal, Aria's face went dead white. Seeing her expression like that, a creeping guilt—as if I had committed some grave sin—began coiling around my chest. Still, this was not a situation where I could indulge Aria's pleading. I had no choice but to steel my heart and give her the harsh truth.
"Because you wouldn't be of much help. I'm sorry, Aria."
"....."
A pained look came over Aria's face at my bluntness. But this time, it could not be helped. Even if, ten years later, Aria grew into a witch who could command the world, that remained a tale of the future. At this moment, Aria was nothing more than the Estel Duchy's exceedingly adorable maid. True, she was learning magic from Old Man Karl, but an Aria who had only just grasped the basics could never be of any real use in an emergency. Could she?
...And ultimately, there was also the fact that I simply didn't want to put Bianca and Aria directly face-to-face. Considering the Imperial Princess, and Ariel too, I'd been able to easily pick up the scent that something strange was swirling around the situation. ...Of course, the odds were far higher that I was simply overreacting, but wasn't there always a one-in-ten-thousand chance?
I gave a wry smile and gently stroked Aria's hair by way of apology. I would make sure to properly apologize for this later. Having made up my mind, I moved past Aria like that.
***
And so, Aria was left alone.
"...Lord Kain."
She had been of no use. In the end, she could not be of any use to that person.
She had tried. She had tried to be his strength. She had tried to be the strength of the person who had given her a name, who had given her a place to belong, who had given her a reason to go on living. She had thought that if she tried, and tried, and tried again, she might someday be able to help that person.
...But in the end, she was useless. At the critical moment, she could not be of any help to that person at all. This truth was making Aria sad.
Aria was no longer the inexperienced girl who had first woken upon his bed. Now, she too understood many things. For after she had opened her eyes to this world, she had seen so much with him, felt so much, and shared so much. As a result, her view of the world had broadened and she had come to realize far more than before.
For instance, she'd come to easily understand that while she was a lowborn girl whose origins were unknown, he was the young lord of a noble house of esteemed lineage. Or that she was permitted to be close enough to attend upon him only by his grace and his consideration.
She hated it. She hated herself for being unable to do anything but send that person off like this. She hated herself for being able to give nothing to that person.
...And, as that person had said, she hated herself so bitterly—for being good for absolutely nothing.
"...Lord Kain."
Thus left alone, the girl could do nothing but reproach the self that had been safely placed outside the reach of danger.
For a long while. Just like that. On and on.