Tyrant Serpina (3)
"What did you just say…?"
Piviola Academy. It was an educational institution whose headmaster was Jenard — one of the men with whom she ordinarily maintained a connection. And the one who currently held command of the Imperial Army was… her younger brother, Sidmid.
What that fact meant was brutally simple.
It can't be…!!
Something irreversible had already come to pass.
"Hah… hahh."
Serpina drove her feet hard against the ground, racing toward the mansion where Sidmid resided.
It's a lie…!
It had to be a lie. No matter how badly her second brother coveted the imperial throne, he would never have done something on the scale of massacring civilians.
A man who had yet to declare any position, any allegiance at all — simply because he was "pro-Algot" — and not merely eliminating that man alone, but slaughtering every last innocent student and professor at the academy under his care? Had that madness truly happened?
She could not believe it. Or rather, more precisely, she refused to believe anything of the sort.
Clinging to the hollow hope that something must have gone wrong, she kept running until, when she came back to herself, she was already standing before the mansion gates.
Clack!
She flung the doors open and began searching the interior for Sidmid. Fortune or misfortune, finding him did not take long.
"Brother Sidmid!"
"…What is it, Serpina. What do you want?"
Glittering golden hair, dark eyes. The man lounging at a desk piled high with liquor bottles, drinking aimlessly, was Sidmid von Aingart — the very one who had raised the banner of rebellion against Algot's reign.
Had he not been drinking, he might have cut a rather princely figure. As it was, he looked only hollowed out and haggard.
"Is it… true?"
"Is what true."
"Piviola Academy… Don't tell me you really—!"
"…"
Sidmid said nothing. He poured himself a glass of wine and drained it to the bottom.
Gulp. Gulp.
Then he slammed the glass down on the table with a brutal thunk and spoke.
"You came all this way just to talk about that?"
"Just to talk about— How can you—!"
"I thought maybe you'd finally accepted the way the wind was blowing and come to join my side. Not that joining me would do much good. If you've got nothing worth saying, get out. Unless you want to see something ugly."
"Brother, answer my question! Piviola Academy—!"
"Fine!"
Bang!
The violent crack of a fist striking the table sealed Serpina's mouth shut for a moment.
"I did it. What of it?"
"How could you…!"
An Imperial Army raid — no, calling it a raid was generous. It had been a one-sided massacre.
"You know perfectly well what kind of bastard that old headmaster was, don't you? While everyone else was acknowledging me, he was a pathetic old fool clinging to outdated tradition, stuck in another age."
Sidmid poured the words out as if a dam had broken, as though he were determined not to give Serpina any chance to speak.
"Everyone is following me! In a situation like this, why do you think Brother Algot can't even hold on to his own share? Most of the powerful nobles support me! And in the middle of all that, those idiots spouting nonsense about how 'the Academy must remain neutral' — of course they had to be removed! And 'neutral' is a generous word. Given that damned old man's leanings, it wouldn't have been strange if he'd come to stick a knife in our backs at any moment!"
The greatest condition that allowed Sidmid — neither the eldest son, nor particularly well-supplied with justification — to contend with Algot was the full-throated support of the powerful nobility. The very fact that authority over the Imperial Army had been entrusted to him was itself a product of the backing of the nobles across the various territories.
Algot was a rational man. Strict in reward and punishment, he had preached the importance of strengthening imperial authority even while their father still lived. To him, the "great houses" were obstacles to the throne — a hardliner who insisted that even the most meritorious founding families must kneel at the imperial family's feet.
Sidmid, by comparison, was relatively conciliatory. To call him far more political than his elder brother would be exactly right. He had flexibly acknowledged most of the nobles' titles and rights, and that had been the single greatest force driving so many of them to support the second son rather than the eldest, Algot, in a succession still undecided. Aside from Serpina, who was considerably younger, the younger siblings also tended to follow Sidmid over Algot, who could be rather inflexible.
"It won't be long now anyway! I made this decision for the Empire! This is not something for someone like you — with neither responsibility nor rights — to stick your nose into!"
Hah… hahh…
As Sidmid gasped for breath, spent from his impassioned self-justification as though he had been pleading his case before someone, Serpina looked up at him with a face on the verge of tears and begged.
"Brother. Why… why would you do such a thing?! What did the people there ever do wrong—"
Even granting a hundred times over that he might kill the Academy's headmaster — an act that should never have happened either, of course — wiping out every student and professor as well was, in the plainest terms, the work of a rabid dog.
There had been children of the nobility among them. Even allowing that the pro-Algot headmaster's influence might have reached them… what possible reason was there for them to die so unjustly, without ever even having the chance to declare their own positions?
Sidmid shouted as though he had done nothing wrong at all.
"Shut up! There was no other way! To stop that fool Algot from inheriting the throne as things stand, I had to cut down any force that might become a seed of unrest in advance!"
"But… killing people so meaninglessly… someone who would become emperor shouldn't do that!"
At that, Sidmid rose from his seat and strode toward her.
And then—
Crack!
—he struck Serpina hard across the cheek before she could say another word.
"…Don't overstep yourself. Do you understand?"
"Brother…!!!"
"Do you think anything will change just because I did this? Not a chance. Everyone is on my side. I hold the military, and the goodwill of many nobles is mine as well. I will not stand by with open eyes and watch the entire Empire be stolen by an elder brother whose only distinction is having been born first!"
"That's…"
"I have nothing more to say to you, so you'd best get out of my sight. Out of regard for our blood, I'll spare your life. I don't need your help. Living as quietly as possible would be wise."
Serpina swallowed back the tears that threatened to spill. Whether she had been struck or not hardly mattered. Wounds healed with time.
But what grieved her more than anything was this: it had become truly, utterly irreversible.
Countless people had died. Once lives had been lost, there was no longer any way to resolve this through dialogue.
Why…!
Why had it come to this? She had tried so hard — why had she been able to solve nothing?
Because she had no power? Because she had no political foundation? Or simply because she was incompetent?
No — before any of that—
How had Brother Sidmid even learned of the Piviola Academy headmaster's intentions in the first place?
The headmaster would never have said such things publicly. If he had so much as weighed in on a matter involving the Crown Prince, she herself should have known about it.
And then—
"…!!!"
On her way out of the residence, she ran into Stadel and Lilirose.
The moment she saw Stadel's face, the thought struck her: he held a position overseeing the Empire's academies.
"Brother Stadel… Don't tell me…?"
"…I have nothing to say to you."
"Did you tell him? That the headmaster said those things—"
At that moment, the voice that cut her off — while Stadel fidgeted and jerked his head away — belonged to Serpina's only elder sister, Lilirose.
"Go home, Serpina. The Empire needs reform. Brother Algot's way will only accelerate the division. Both of us agree with Brother Sidmid."
"Sister…!!"
"…Let's go."
Watching the backs of Stadel and Lilirose recede into the distance, Serpina's strength left her, and she sank to the ground where she stood.
One thing was certain—
In this situation, there was nothing she could do.
Just as Sidmid had so boldly declared, the massacre became a topic of conversation for a moment — and then, in the blink of an eye, a subject everyone hushed up about.
Even with several houses wiped out, nothing of consequence occurred. For all that they were called prestigious families, they were pitifully insignificant next to the true meritorious houses that wielded influence at the center of politics.
Among the nobility, the anti-Algot sentiment ran far stronger than expected. Had legitimacy not been shielding him, he would already have been pushed aside by Sidmid long ago.
Through it all, Serpina… shut herself away alone in her bedchamber. The despair of being able to change nothing left her without the strength to bravely attempt anything at all.
How many days passed like that?
"Princess Serpina… His Highness Crown Prince Algot requests your presence."
"…"
Why was he looking for her now, of all times? If he so much as said "stand with me" one more time, she intended to refuse him flat and bury herself in her room again.
But the words that left Algot's mouth were so shocking she could scarcely believe them.
"You're going to… hand over the throne?"
"Yes. I intend to pass the position of Crown Prince… to Sidmid."
"Brother…"
Algot gave a bitter smile and murmured with his head bowed toward the floor.
"People around me are dying one by one, for no reason other than that they follow me. There is nothing I can do as Crown Prince. The nobles scorn me, and with nothing but the capital defense force and private troops at my disposal, I cannot mount a proper response. If I continue to cling to this seat like a scarecrow… even more people will die."
"So I will give it up. Sidmid, broadly speaking, is still a man of House Aingart. Even if he becomes the next emperor… the Empire should endure."
"…"
"Serpina. Go and tell him for me. I will hold a succession ceremony for the Crown Prince — so stop this now."
To Algot, murmuring in resignation, Serpina could not bring herself to say a word. His expression looked so sorrowful that she could not even ask what feelings had driven him to such a decision.
"Is that so?! Is that truly the case?"
In complete contrast to the thoroughly broken Algot, Sidmid brightened with color the moment he heard the news.
"So he's finally giving up that stubborn clinging to legitimacy. Very well. I'll set a date at once. At last I can bring the hammer down on ungrateful wretches like Orlando and Walnut."
If Sidmid became emperor — would that truly be all right?
He was the architect of a brutal massacre. If a man who would become emperor of the Empire could commit such an act and have it dismissed as nothing more than "infighting over the position of Crown Prince," then what reason was there for this Empire to continue existing at all?
—She spent her days turning over such thoughts, thoughts far too insolent for a member of the imperial family, until one day Algot summoned her again. Serpina tilted her head and asked,
"You want me to bring Uncle with me?"
"Yes. A letter arrived from Uncle Kyle, who has been in hiding. He says he wishes to attend the enthronement ceremony, and that he would like someone to meet him at Heil Castle."
"He could simply come himself…"
"You know how strangely stubborn Uncle can be, don't you?"
"Well…"
Kyle von Aingart. Their father's younger brother — a man who had taken no part in the succession struggle and, until recently, had spent his days quietly in seclusion. Even while their father still lived, he had been something of a wastrel who whiled away his time far from power. But in the present situation, had he only taken Algot's side, the weight of his bloodline alone would have been a considerable force.
"So I would like you to go and bring him."
"Then I may be late for the enthronement ceremony…"
"By carriage, you should be able to make the round trip within a day."
Heil Castle was a quiet place not far past the bridge from Aingart Castle. In any case… the thought that asking her uncle what he intended to do might prove of great help crossed her mind.
"Understood."
And so she boarded a carriage and set out for Heil Castle at once. It truly did not take long.
But the problem lay elsewhere.
"Lord Kyle, you say? I have not seen him…"
"What?"
"Yes… We had agreed that he would inform us if he came to the castle. Lord Kyle has not come here."
"I was told he sent a letter to Brother Algot."
"I am sorry, but this is the first I have heard of it, Princess. Why would I lie to Your Highness?"
Leaving the castle lord bowing awkwardly behind her, Serpina sank into thought.
What is this? Did Uncle send a letter without actually coming? Why? He may be frivolous, but he is not the sort to do something so pointless. If that is not the case…
If Kyle had not done this, there was only one answer.
…Brother Algot… lied…?
Serpina rested her chin in her hand and thought.
Why tell such a lie…?
There was always a reason for a lie — especially one this elaborate. What could Brother Algot gain from this falsehood? Nothing, of course. At most, it only meant that she herself had left Aingart Castle.
And the moment that thought fully formed—
Thump. Thump!
Don't tell me… getting me outside Aingart Castle was the goal itself?
Her heart began to race. The force driving it was a clear and unmistakable dread closing in around her.
Serpina ran straight to the carriage and turned back toward Aingart Castle.
And what awaited Serpina there was—
…!!!!
—the grand mansion of House Aingart, blazing furiously, cradling the rise and fall of the imperial family in its flames.