Inspection (1)
The Academy.
When I first heard I was going there, even I had been full of hope.
But the result?
It was a complete disaster.
No beautiful classmate sitting next to me who occasionally blurted shy things in Imperial. No golden-haired young lady falling for my voice and murmuring, "What a voice." Not even a suspicious letter from the future.
None of it.
Fifth-week history class at the Academy.
That day, my world collapsed.
I became the Academy's official outcast.
It hadn't been that way from the start. Back at the very beginning of the term—on the day of the entrance ceremony, to be exact.
—Thud.
"S-sorry. Coming through."
A young lady with an eyepatch over one eye.
"…"
A mute who couldn't speak a word.
"Um, could someone please push my wheelchair?"
A girl with no legs, and so on.
What is this, a den of the disabled?
It looked as though every cripple in the Empire had been gathered in one place. Of course there were plenty of perfectly healthy people too, but the overall spectacle was baffling.
I was still staring in disbelief when it happened.
"Excuse me—could you help me a little?"
The legless girl from a moment ago called out to me. Well, fine. I could manage this much.
I helped push her wheelchair.
"Thank you. May I ask your name?"
She asked for my name. I answered with full confidence.
"Ah, auh. Uh-uh-uh."
Damn it.
I had no idea how to pronounce Imperial.
That first impression was thoroughly ruined, yet fortunately the Academy students were kind. They were the ones who approached the guy who couldn't even speak properly.
"Now, Young Master Henry. Try following me. Water."
"Wader."
"Tree."
"Treee."
"Very good. Shall we try writing next? Here—Henry is written like this."
They kindly taught me both speech and letters.
"Yes, well done. That's Henry. Now try writing it over here as well?"
—Scritch, scritch.
"Excellent. Now that you've signed, the terms of this contract take effect starting today."
They also taught me, with equal kindness, just how terrifying society could be.
There were various incidents, but the point is that they treated me well at first. My social life was fine. My grades weren't bad either.
The subject I was most confident in was morals. I hadn't started out confident, but at some point enlightenment struck.
"Butler. The other subjects are fine, but my morals scores are terrible."
"Hmm. Young Master, allow me to teach you how to solve morals questions."
All thanks to the butler who had accompanied me to the Academy.
"Now then, Young Master. A woman has collapsed in the street. What would be the desirable action in this situation?"
"Kidnap her, collect a ransom, and sell her?"
"More. Tell me everything that comes to mind."
"Rob anything valuable. Make her my wife. And, well, though it's a loss… ignore her and walk past."
"That's exactly it, Young Master!"
"That's the answer?"
"No. Subtract all of those, and what remains is the answer. Solve them that way from now on."
"Oh."
And so my Academy life—with decent grades and decent relationships—came to an abrupt end.
It was history class.
"Now then, this unit covers our painful history: the Empire's crisis and the plunder. Let us learn it together."
Boring history. I dozed off the moment it began, but the professor's next words snapped me wide awake.
"There is only one thing you need to remember. Vargas. Just remember that dog-like name."
A familiar name. Something was wrong.
The explanation that followed was simple. The Vargas people, originally a northern tribe, had gradually moved south and eventually settled in what is now the southern Empire. And the massacres, invasions, and plunder that had taken place along the way.
"…Fortunately our third-generation Emperor subjugated them and incorporated them into the Empire. But we must never forget that name."
The professor chewed each syllable as if he wanted to grind it between his teeth.
"The name Vargas."
When the explanation ended, every eye in the room was on me—filled with murderous intent.
I had to defend myself. So I hurriedly opened my mouth with my awkward pronunciation.
"Ho… honestly, I think the Vargas people must have had their own circumstances too."
"Henry, what on earth are you saying?"
My desperate defense did not work at all. That was how I became the outcast.
What came after was simple. Various nobles tormented me, and I resorted to the last measure available: I placed the Academy under naval blockade.
You could call it my golden age.
How were delicately raised nobles supposed to resist when cannons were pointed at them? My era had begun.
First up was Young Lady Vivian, who had harassed me with particular enthusiasm. I showed her a world of reversed status and put her to various uses—usually as a chair. The other nobles received the same treatment.
After that my father dragged me away and I was placed under house arrest. Vivian and several other young ladies fell ill.
Those Academy memories—a world of nothing but wounds for everyone involved—were proving useful to me now.
The conference room of the Supreme Committee.
Various retainers were arrayed below, while the highest seats were occupied by myself, Mary, and Elizabeth.
That was right. The pinnacle of the Lancart royal palace's political machinery—the Supreme Committee system—had been put into effect.
Originally the committee had been scheduled to begin after the wedding. But a delightful little rebellion using Elizabeth as its pretext had erupted, the wedding had been postponed, and yet—
They couldn't postpone the Supreme Committee.
It was far too important a political organ to put off the way one might put off a wedding.
So the system went into operation with me included. And I discovered a startling truth.
Power comes with a price.
Until now I had simply enjoyed power by virtue of being born with the right bloodline. Now I was actually doing "politics."
I had thought power was nothing more than pleasure without responsibility. It turned out to be a complicated contract in which you obtained power only by accepting the bondage of having to govern.
"…Now then, the next agenda item is the epidemic in the north."
And so I found myself engaged in untimely politics. Fortunately I was not completely clueless.
The Academy is useful here after all.
The history and other subjects I had learned back then had cultivated a certain political insight. Thanks to that, I could form some judgments.
"An epidemic is currently raging through the north, and the local lord is requesting guidance on how to proceed."
First, Mary's opinion.
"Deploy the army. Burn every last person in that region."
Then Elizabeth's.
"D-don't burn them… how about sending doctors to treat them instead?"
The decision now rested on my choice. In my view—
"Queen Mary's opinion seems more reasonable."
Mary smiled. Elizabeth's face darkened slightly.
"Next agenda. Barbarians are eyeing the border. Should we defend the Alphonse Mountains, or merely guard the passes?"
Mary:
"It seems we ought to defend the mountains."
Elizabeth:
"They won't be able to cross the Alphonse Mountains. Let's just guard the passes."
My turn again.
"I also believe we should defend the mountains."
Mary's smile deepened; Elizabeth's expression grew darker still.
"Understood. Next—Count Hitler is requesting that the Czech territory be ceded to him. How shall we resolve this?"
This time Elizabeth spoke first.
"Let's cede it. That is the way to preserve the peace of our era."
Mary countered at once.
"Nonsense. Tell him that if he covets any more, we will not hesitate to go to war."
My thinking was the same.
"Preparing for war seems correct."
The next agenda, and the one after that.
"Queen Mary's opinion—"
"I tend to agree with Queen Mary—"
"I also think just killing them all would be—"
I kept agreeing with Queen Mary's views.
—Sniff, sniff.
At some point tears had welled in Elizabeth's eyes.
"Last item. Count Raul is having an affair with his own daughter—"
"Kill him."
"…L-lock him in prison."
My final opinion as well:
"Let's kill him."
And so the first session of the Supreme Committee came to an end.
"Hic… hic… waaah!"
Elizabeth ran out of the room in tears. The queen watched her go with a smile, then approached me.
"Hehe. Thank you. Just keep doing exactly this."
She stroked my shoulder with a suggestive caress and then left the conference room herself.
What?
I felt wronged. I hadn't been trying to take Queen Mary's side. I had simply agreed with whichever opinion looked more reasonable—and every single one of those had been Queen Mary's.
Are we actually soulmates or something?
Some of the issues we had handled were complicated political problems, the kind that should have split opinion in several directions.
"Perfect."
Yet the queen had presented, every single time, only the opinions that landed right in the center of my heart. It was almost unnatural. Compatibility, I supposed—if you wanted to call it that.
I shook my head and stood. This was no time to linger in the conference room. I needed to clear up a misunderstanding.
The misunderstanding concerning Elizabeth.
Elizabeth can't give up.
She had to keep performing her role—the role of keeping Mary in check. She could not have her spirit broken now. She had to remain as Plan B so that Mary could never run rampant, and so we would have a fallback for any unexpected situation. Therefore I needed to make it clear that I had not formed an alliance with Mary.
And honestly, watching her cry made me feel a little sorry for her.
I went to find Elizabeth and console her.
—Knock, knock.
When I knocked, the door cracked open a fraction.
"Why did you come?"
Elizabeth peeked out. Her eyes were quite red from crying earlier.
I spoke to the sulky face in the doorway.
"I came to clear up a small misunderstanding."
"Hmph. What misunderstanding."
Even as she said it, she eased the door open a little wider. I stepped inside.
The room was still neat, but old. I was about to sit on the edge of the worn-looking bed and begin talking when—
—Whooosh.
A wind blew in from somewhere. I looked around, wondering what on earth was going on.
You've got to be kidding me.
One entire section of the wall had been smashed through and was only barely covered with wooden boards—at the top of a tower, no less. Wind whistled through the clumsily nailed planks.
Was that the wall I had destroyed last time while trying to catch a ghost? Why had they patched it like this—wait.
I seized Elizabeth's hand.
"W-why are you grabbing my hand?"
Her slender fingers were marked here and there with wounds, lightly wrapped in bandages.
She had fixed it herself. No one had helped her.
She had been living like this all along.