A Cruel Joke

Inside the dungeons of Hisphil Castle.

Anima, who had been imprisoned there only recently, was surviving on the barest minimum of water and refusing every scrap of food the Serpina Army offered her.

"Hey."

"……."

"Hey! Answer me!"

"……."

"……For heaven's sake."

The jailer kept trying to draw her out from time to time, but Anima met every attempt with absolute silence. He had no special orders beyond watching her, so he didn't press the matter further—yet the thought still nagged at him.

If this keeps up, that girl's life is going to be in real danger.

Carrying a full meal all the way down only to carry it straight back out again was hardly a pleasant duty. He was just considering whether he ought to ask his superiors for clearer instructions when footsteps approached the cell block.

He turned, wondering who it could be—and found himself face to face with the golden-haired absolute sovereign who stood at the very pinnacle of his world.

A presence loftier than any other, more elegant than any other. If a crown of true supremacy truly existed on this continent, she was the only woman alive with the right to wear it.

"My greetings, my lord."

Serpina addressed the jailer as he bowed low.

"Report."

"As previously stated, she continues to refuse all meals. She appears to be taking only the bare minimum of water required to stay alive."

"I see."

Serpina turned her head slightly to one side. Grasping at once that the gesture meant he was dismissed, the jailer bowed once more and swiftly withdrew.

Alone now, Serpina walked toward Anima's cell with an impassive expression fixed upon her face. When she arrived, she found a one-armed woman slumped on the floor, head bowed, saying nothing at all.

"Anima Ingram."

"……."

No answer came, but Serpina paid it no mind.

"Do you intend to keep up this foolish display? Your own lord would not wish to see you come to harm."

"……."

"I do not know what thoughts occupy that mind of yours, but this is neither resistance nor protest. It is nothing more than childish self-harm—an act without meaning, capable of changing nothing. I was told you possessed a sharp intellect. It would seem that was an exaggeration."

Then, in a tone stripped of every emotion, Serpina asked calmly:

"Anima Ingram. I shall ask you myself. Have you any intention of serving under me from this day forward?"

"……What?"

At last Anima broke her silence, lips parting at Serpina's words.

"Exactly as I said. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I have heard of your talents. I am asking whether you would put those talents to use for me. I do not expect you to accept—but should you change your mind, I would not be unwilling to take you in."

Anima slowly lifted her head and fixed Serpina with a glare. Fury burned in her eyes—fury so fierce it looked ready to erupt at any moment. It was a killing intent vast enough to devour an ordinary person whole. Serpina, however, did not flinch. She met those eyes without wavering.

"……Don't make me laugh."

"……."

"Even if it costs me my head, I will never serve under the likes of you, Serpina."

The words were pure provocation—yet Serpina's brow did not so much as twitch. She answered in the same composed tone with which she had made her offer moments before.

"Is that so. A pity."

She said it was a pity, but she looked nothing of the sort. Anima's hostility only flared hotter.

"I will never forgive you, Serpina von Aingart. I swear it… I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠will kill you with my own hands."

"I hear that sort of talk often enough. You are ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hardly the first."

"Ha! You'd better think carefully. If you don't take my head now, I'll take yours myself."

Anima threw the challenge again, but no matter what she said, she could not so much as rattle the golden-haired absolute before her.

"I have no habit of damaging merchandise that has fallen into my hands simply because it thrashes about in a temper."

"What did you just—?!"

"Is that not good news for you? By capturing you, I have effectively seized a weakness of the lord you serve—Yuuri Asius."

Crack!

The rage coiled inside Anima finally burst free.

"You… you damned bitch!"

"Go on, thrash about if you like. See what it accomplishes. You can barely stand from starvation as it is—and even if you wrung every last scrap of strength from that body of yours, you already know perfectly well that nothing would change. You are clever, after all. Are you not?"

"Ugh… nngh…!!"

Bang!

Anima slammed her fist against the iron bars again and again, glaring at Serpina with raw intensity—but Serpina remained utterly unmoved. Looking down from above, she spoke with the same unshaken calm.

"A word of advice, for your own sake. You would do well to eat."

"What…?"

"Did you not just swear you would kill me with your own hands? You will need to keep that life of yours intact if you hope to make good on the threat. A woman who once served as a nation's strategist ought to take responsibility for the words she speaks."

"……!!!"

Anima stared at Serpina, the whites of her eyes showing. From the moment Serpina had walked into this place and begun speaking, her expression had not changed once—a subtle, elusive look that could pass for boredom or for overwhelming pressure, depending on how one chose to read it. There was no spark of life in those eyes, and yet neither was there an absence of burning will. Cold. Distant. Untouchable.

"……."

Anima slowly lowered her head—and only then reached for the rye bread sitting in her cell and began to tear into it, chewing with animal abandon, dignity and pride cast aside.

The wet sounds of her eating were the last thing Serpina heard as she turned and started to leave.

And in that instant—

"……Piviola Academy."

"!!!"

The moment that name left Anima's lips, Serpina faltered—for the first time, if only for a fraction of a second. Anima, facing her back, would not have noticed. But Serpina's heart had unmistakably stirred.

"Not a name you're hearing for the first time, I imagine. A place you wiped out on a whim, simply because a rival was sponsoring it."

"……."

"And it isn't only Piviola Academy. Serpina—there are any number of people across this continent who want your head. Sooner or later… one of them will catch you by the ankle."

With that, the hurried sounds of eating resumed. Serpina did not look back. She left the dungeon without a word of reply.

Once she had returned to the castle proper, Serpina settled into the lord's chair and sank into thought.

A story from the past—one that now felt as distant as a lifetime ago.

Having briefly revisited that old memory, Serpina slowly closed her eyes and wiped it away once more. There was no use in dwelling on it now.

From the moment she had resolved to shoulder the empire's revival—and the great vessel that carried it, the name of Aingart—she had been destined to become the emperor who would unify the empire.

And as the past stirred, another image rose unbidden into her mind, one that always unsettled her thoughts: a dream she had over and over. In a place she could not name yet somehow ached for, she met a figure she could not name yet somehow longed for… and she looked happy.

Me?

Happy… with someone?

What a cruel joke.

Serpina cut the thought short, closed her eyes, and leaned back against the chair. It was a ritual she performed whenever her heart grew complicated. A few short sighs, repeated as many times as needed… and she could return to the self everyone expected of her.

When her thoughts were ordered and she opened her eyes again, she was once more the absolute sovereign—the Tyrant of the North. A being who could weather any amount of killing intent with perfect composure.

Whether this was the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠most efficient path, she could not say. Even so, she believed it was the best one available. And just as she always had, she would simply keep moving forward.

"Here—six thousand nine hundred gold in total. Your travel expenses are in the pouch on top of the box. There's an extra thousand gold, so it should be more than enough."

I accepted the wooden chest. The sheer quantity of gold coins inside was enough to make a person feel rich just looking at them.

"Thank you."

"Thank me…?"

"For carrying it all the way here. It must have been heavy."

"Not at all. It's only my duty. Still—thank you for the consideration, Lord Swen."

The soldier who had prepared the carriage saluted me. If I'd had anything resembling ordinary physical strength, I would have moved the chest myself… but unfortunately, this body of mine forced me to conserve every scrap of stamina just to handle emergencies. Accepting the help quietly was the wiser choice.

"Shall we depart, then?"

At my words, the soldier seemed to remember something.

"Ah—right. Lord Swen. I have a message for you."

"What is it?"

"My lord has assigned an escort general to accompany you. They should be arriving shortly."

An escort general.

I wondered briefly whether one was really necessary for a simple negotiation—but then again, the other party was Serpina herself. And if I succeeded in securing Anima's return, having someone along to help look after her would be convenient for me as well.

"Understood."

"Yes, sir. Then I'll take my leave first."

After the soldier left, I passed the time watching the clouds drift across the sky.

"Swen."

A woman's voice—one that had grown thoroughly familiar—reached my ears. I turned toward the sound.

"Lady Irene?"

She stood there in comfortable clothes suited for a long journey, looking at me. So Irene was the escort they'd assigned. Given a general of her caliber, there was nowhere on the continent one needed to fear—a thoroughly sensible choice. And from my perspective, there was no one whose back I trusted more completely.

Yes. Up to this point, everything fell within the realm of what I could have expected.

But—

"……H-h-hello……!"

The problem was the woman standing beside her: a pink-haired girl whose face was, unfortunately, just as familiar.

"Miss Reika……?"

Irene and Reika. Confronted with that peculiar pairing, I could only stare at them in silence.