Cracks Beneath the Surface
Anastasia's office.
Ever since the State Council meeting that day, Prime Minister Esman had shown up at this room every single day without fail, together with a host of practical-minded officials, working tirelessly to assist Anastasia.
Now that the Emperor had formally delegated the affairs of state to the Crown Princess, it fell to them to help her stabilize the new administration and clear away the mountain of outstanding problems as quickly as possible.
Whew... truly remarkable...
Even as he worked through the towering stacks of documents, Esman could not stop marveling to himself.
The Crown Princess Anastasia, of course, had displayed a brilliance that set her apart from everyone else since childhood, so she hardly surprised him anymore. Her excellence was a fact everyone already knew well.
The reason he was so awestruck lay not with her, but with the man who stood quietly at her side, never sparing his counsel, working alongside them — Logan.
"Your Highness... for this section, I believe it would be best to request cooperation from the Dwarf Kingdom and have them handle the construction. The difficulty is so high, and it demands such precise, intricate craftsmanship, that rushing the work carelessly could lead to disaster..."
"As for the timber needed for the reconstruction projects, you could request support from the Elf Kingdom... ah, of course, since they are a people who cherish the forest and nature, they may be reluctant at first — but if you ask for wood that has reached the end of its lifespan, or timber that has simply grown old, they will provide it."
"And from our standpoint, that would be material of extremely high quality and excellent grade, so it would be of tremendous help. Therefore, I would suggest making the request..."
Esman had heard many times that Logan had rendered considerable service in the Demon King Subjugation as a member of the Hero's Party — but to think his instincts for governance were this exceptional as well.
Logan was a commoner by birth, hardly more than an adventurer, was he not? Yet here he was, sketching the grand blueprint of the Empire's reconstruction and even demonstrating the diplomatic insight to harmonize the competing interests of foreign nations. Esman could not contain his astonishment.
No — no, that's wrong. Otherwise I'm no different from that wretch Lindemark. I must not hold prejudices...
Shaking his head to cast off his own arrogance — the arrogance of judging Logan by his origins — Esman turned his focus back to his work. And even so, he felt a faint flicker of hope kindling within him.
Your Majesty, you did truly well. You can rest easy now, with your mind at peace.
He thought of Valerius, who had suffered so long, agonizing between the corrupt nobility and the greedy Church, and felt a wave of relief. Because he believed that from now on, Anastasia would lead the Empire rightly, with a steadfast ally at her side.
Anastasia, for her part, shared Esman's thoughts exactly, and marveled no less at Logan's versatility.
Ah, Logan... you're just... incredible...
His stunning looks aside, he was a superb fighter and clever enough to devise brilliant strategies — and as if that weren't enough, he possessed both a statesman's instincts and encyclopedic knowledge for a national undertaking like this!
Logan, how can one person be so perfect?
Even as she marveled at his abilities, part of her worried that he was carrying far too heavy a burden.
For Anastasia, simply having Logan stay at her side, the way Renate did, was more than enough. Being able to see him every day, to feel his warmth — that alone made her happy, and it let her endure even the most grueling work.
Even if it meant shouldering every affair of state alone the moment the Demon King Subjugation ended.
But she wasn't shouldering it alone. He was right there beside her, supporting her steadfastly.
And so Anastasia was desperately struggling to concentrate on her work, barely managing to suppress the foolish smile that kept threatening to spread across her face on its own.
She couldn't let him see her looking undignified — and besides, the office was full of people, Prime Minister Esman included, all hard at work.
Then —
"For this part, if we handle it like—"
"Ah...!"
In the middle of discussing business, Logan's finger brushed ever so slightly against hers as he pointed to a document, and before she could stop herself, a soft sigh escaped Anastasia's lips.
Logan turned to her with a look of concern.
"Your Highness...?"
"N-no, nothing. So, next we have...?"
Her heart had nearly stopped for a moment, but Anastasia forced herself to act as if nothing had happened, straining to keep her composure.
But there was no hiding the way her face had already flushed crimson with the heat rising in her cheeks.
Logan had clearly noticed the change in her — yet so that she wouldn't feel embarrassed or burdened, he pretended not to see and carried on with his explanation as naturally as ever.
"Yes, so next, as for..."
"Ah, yes! Yes, of course!"
Thanks to his thoughtful discretion, the others working in the office noticed nothing of Anastasia's flustered expression and remained absorbed in their tasks.
Only one person, watching the Crown Princess scramble to collect herself, let out a silent sigh.
*Sigh*... Your Highness...
Renate felt as though she were watching a hopelessly naive daughter. But before long, she decided it couldn't be helped, and a wry smile crossed her face.
After all, considering Anastasia's age, it was only natural for her to be so twitterpated.
It wasn't just her — Logan, too, was young enough that he ought to be in the full bloom of romance, whispering sweet nothings, rather than buried in this dreary paperwork.
If we can just get through this difficult period... then nothing lies ahead but better days. Take heart, Your Highness.
And so another busy day passed in the Imperial Palace, crowded as ever with endless work — yet each of them carried their own flutter of excitement and hope, diligently preparing for the future.
Renate could only pray that days like these would continue, that the Empire would know peace and prosper.
However.
Her wish would begin to crack at the State Council meeting scheduled for that very afternoon.
The Imperial State Council Chamber.
Presiding over the meeting as she did every day, Anastasia found herself frowning — among the attendees were faces that had never been scheduled to appear.
And even though she made her displeasure plainly, openly known —
"It is an honor, Your Highness. The Goddess herself surely takes note of how you labor day and night for the welfare of the Empire."
Sera, feigning complete obliviousness, offered her greeting with an elegant smile.
Anastasia's irritation deepened, and she brushed off the Saintess's greeting with half an ear before firing back.
"Yes, my thanks for your tireless efforts, Saintess. However — this chamber is where the gravest matters of state are decided. I find it improper for the Saintess to take a seat here without so much as a word of notice."
"Oh my. Are you saying that I, who deliver the words of the Goddess, am unfit to attend a chamber where the gravest matters of state are decided?"
Despite Anastasia's pointed hostility, Sera countered with an even gentler smile. She looked the very picture of a priestess devoting herself more than anyone to the good of the Empire.
It was enough that the others in the chamber, while agreeing with Anastasia that Sera's presence was out of place, couldn't help feeling the Crown Princess's attitude was somewhat excessive.
Tsk... what is she playing at?
Anastasia clicked her tongue inwardly.
The Church looked pious and benevolent on the surface, but she knew better than anyone that it was a gathering place for the blackest hearts in the land — and that its champion was none other than Sera, acclaimed as the Saintess.
Still, she had never imagined they would show up in person to throw cold water on everything at this critical moment, when every hour counted toward rebuilding the Empire.
So this is Duke Lindemark's doing.
Anastasia's gaze caught Cardo sitting in a corner of the chamber, smiling serenely. And as if to prove her right, it was Cardo who immediately rose to Sera's defense.
"I, for one, do not find the Saintess's attendance improper in the least. Is she not a woman who devotes herself more than anyone to the Empire's future?"
"Oh my... thank you, Duke Lindemark."
Ha... what a comedy routine.
Anastasia was dumbfounded watching them play their little drum-and-cymbal duet for each other. But it didn't end there.
"That's right, Your Highness! Anyone who holds the Empire in their heart should be welcome at this council, shouldn't they?"
Not only Sera — the Hero Rian, seated in the chamber alongside them, barged into the exchange with his own impassioned oratory.
Worse still, he didn't hesitate to voice an outright outrageous remark.
"I implore you — cease this high-handed posturing, excluding others for the sake of shoring up your claim to the throne!"
"Ha... I beg your pardon. What did you just say?"
At Rian's words, which had crossed the line entirely, Anastasia's crimson eyes flashed. That alone was enough to plunge the chamber's atmosphere into an icy chill in an instant.
But Rian, oblivious, retreated not an inch and pressed on with brazen confidence.
"Isn't it the truth, though!? You're forcing through these projects just to pile up legitimacy for yoursel— urk!"
He was determined to hammer his point home, to shout his opinion to the chamber — but mid-sentence, an interruption cut him off cold.
"Fufu... Hero, do compose yourself a little."
Sera had pinched him hard in the side. Then she bowed respectfully to Anastasia at once, offering her apology.
"I beg your forgiveness, Your Highness. Having witnessed with his own eyes the devastation the Demon King's forces wrought across the Empire, the Hero burned with righteous indignation, and I fear his language grew somewhat... intemperate."
"Somewhat intemperate? Enough. Even if he is the Hero, there is a limit to how much I am willing to overlook."
Anastasia's voice was razor-cold as she delivered her warning.
"And it is not only the Hero. This applies to every member of the Hero's Party, the Saintess included. The Demon King has been slain — you will not continue to bask in special privileges on that account. You were already compensated separately, and amply. Was that not enough?"
As she spoke, her gaze swept over Sera, then Rian in turn — and finally came to rest, ice-cold, on Irene, who sat among them.
"I am the Crown Princess of this Empire, and the one to whom His Majesty has entrusted the governance of the state. Cross the line again, and there will be consequences."
Irene wanted nothing more than to fire back at her the way Rian had — but she barely managed to swallow it down.
That detestable little witch...!
Her every instinct screamed to slam a fireball straight into that woman's face, here and now.
How could anyone be so insolent, so insufferably arrogant?
And then —
Logan...!
When Logan had entered the chamber, their eyes had met — she was certain of it. Yet he had immediately turned his head away and, without a word, fixed his gaze on Anastasia alone.
And so Irene sat there, her insides twisted with fury and resentment and a storm of feelings she could not name, in agony.
While the chamber lay frozen in that suffocating silence —
"In any case, we cannot afford to waste another moment, so I will proceed with the meeting. In consideration of the effort the Hero's Party made to travel here, Saintess, I will not order your removal — but I expect you to refrain from unnecessary remarks."
With Anastasia's declaration, the meeting began.
But contrary to her resolve — to cast aside pointless political squabbling and stabilize the Empire a single day sooner —
a fissure, already laid bare, was quietly yet surely spreading through the chamber.