Doubt
"Hic… snf……."
Tears kept spilling from Eris's eyes as she sat curled up on the bed, knees hugged tight to her chest. It hurt. Her heart did.
I'll be frank with you. Your Highness's talent is below that of a commoner.
Ricarton's merciless verdict had felt like a landslide of stone crashing down on her chest. And her body hurt several times over—no, dozens of times over—that.
Until moments ago, Eris had been beaten for a full two hours straight. Ricarton had danced about with his cotton sword as if possessed by some gleeful spirit, and all she could do was take the hits.
"Hic, that crazy bastard……."
What kind of teacher in the world enjoyed thrashing his own student? What kind of grown man beat a little girl half to death? A princess, no less.
"Who the hell taught that freak to swing a sword and cast magic like that…… hic."
She found herself curious about the face of whatever master had taught that damned man swordsmanship and magic. She wanted to track the bastard down and demand why he hadn't bothered teaching him a shred of human decency.
"I'm going to kill him. Hic, hic—when I take the throne, that bastard dies first……."
I was hearing every word of it from my room hundreds of meters away. Not eavesdropping. This was part of the escort detail.
Hmm. Our Seriel Junior Unit One has an impressively high match rate.
Eris had inherited most of Seriel's traits—talent and hair color aside. I hated that she was the child of that greed-soaked Grand Duke. Truly hated it. But I couldn't bring myself to hate the princess, either, precisely because she resembled Seriel.
Which was why I was going so easy on her training. If I'd done it the way Seriel used to, I'd already have broken her arms and legs a few times over.
I changed into the black uniform of the Imperial Guard Commander and headed for Seriel's chambers. The guards stationed outside saw me and offered a brief salute, hands resting on their sword hilts.
"Am I too early?"
"You're thirty minutes late, sir."
"Hahaha. That's because Her Highness Eris wouldn't let me leave, so take it up with the princess."
"Kh……."
They could talk back to me—their commander—but not to a princess. The women glared daggers at me, then left down the corridor. Cute kids.
"Ricarton, reporting."
"Her Majesty says you may enter."
At the attendant's reply, I stepped inside. Seriel had changed into light outdoor clothes for her visit to the priests for treatment. I scooped her up into my arms. She felt lighter than yesterday. By about two hundred grams?
"You've skipped another meal."
"Cough, cough. I simply had no appetite."
Seriel was dying. Ten years now, and not a single sign of improvement. The curse only layered thicker and stronger by the day, devouring her body from within. I deliberately tossed out a joke to shake off the grim thoughts.
"You can't. If you get any lighter, you'll float away."
"……You've grown older and your wretched sense of humor has only gotten worse."
"Hahaha. Want more? I've picked up quite a few……."
"It means shut up because it isn't funny, you idiot."
"……."
Uncle Rubellion said everyone loved these kinds of gags. So why?
One week since Ricarton had begun the private lessons. The violence disguised as instruction continued without pause, and just as fresh doubts about his teaching methods began to creep back into Eris's mind, she peered into her own body with her Mana Eye—and froze.
"……Why did this get bigger?"
…
"Huh? Where's Teacher?"
The moment breakfast ended, Eris raced to the training grounds and found only empty space. No Ricarton—just Imperial Guard knights drilling their sword forms.
"He departed for the North with Her Imperial Majesty."
"The North? Why?"
"Ah—Your Highness hasn't heard yet. Today is the day the Ten Thousand Year Ice Cave opens."
"The Ten Thousand Year Ice Cave??"
Today was the single day of the year when the entrance to the Ten Thousand Year Ice Cave revealed itself. It was the day Seriel looked forward to most. For this stretch of time alone, she could be with Ricarton—just the two of them—without a single interruption.
"Are you cold?"
Ricarton asked gently, cradling Seriel in his arms.
"It's perfect."
His warming magic was layered several times over. The Ice Cave's chill felt merely lukewarm. More than anything, his embrace was so thoroughly warm that she rested her head against his chest.
When did he get this big?
The five-year-old scrap of a boy she'd first met was twenty-one now. It felt like only yesterday that he'd cried in her arms, and yet he had grown strong enough to lift her as if she weighed nothing.
Of course, the crying had been because Seriel had beaten him half to death—but she had long since erased those unpleasant memories. The corner of her mouth began to curl, a smile rising to her face—
"Cough, cough!"
—and shattered under a sudden fit of coughing that wrenched up from her lungs.
"Are you all right?"
"……I'm fine. Stop asking."
"Yes, ma'am."
Even simply being held exhausted her. Fatigue crushed her body every single day. The one who had cast the curse still had not been caught.
For ten years the bastard had been feeding the curse with thousands of lives as the price—and yet they hadn't even managed to snag a single tail. Were the knights incompetent? Was Ricarton incompetent?
Or else…… did he already know, and simply refuse to report it on purpose? Did that gentle exterior hide a secret wish for her death? The foul suspicions chased one another in endless circles. Her body was rotting, and her mind was rotting with it.
Seriel forced her gaze up to Ricarton's face. A sturdy, manly face. A face that set her heart at ease just by looking at it. She felt foolish for ever doubting the man who had guarded her so steadfastly all this time—and yet, part of her still wanted to ask.
Why…… are you still at my side?
After the curse took hold, so many had left her. The iron-fisted rule that had cemented her power in the early years of her reign meant nothing now; all that remained was a hollow crown. Her authority and her faction had sunk to roughly the same level as the year she had spent on the run.
The one silver lining was that the Commander of the Imperial Knights and Ricarton still stood by the Empress—so no one dared challenge her openly.
Why…… haven't you left to pursue your own ambitions?
The question she most wanted to ask, and most dreaded asking. She was terrified that her own words might finally make the dense Ricarton realize he had wings of his own—and fly away. Terrified that it would put the final period on a life already written in loss.
So she swallowed the question rising in her throat. Swallowed it again. Just to stay a little longer in his arms.
Ricarton walked the Ice Cave's passage at a leisurely pace until they reached the cavern. With his physical ability he could have sprinted the distance in a few dozen seconds; with mana, it would have taken less than a second. He took ten full minutes. Of course, that was what Seriel wanted—and what Ricarton wanted as well.
Whoosh… whoosh….
For a while, the only sound in the cavern was the wind threading through the passage.
Absorbing the vast mana saturating the space took the two of them less than thirty minutes.
"Shall we go?"
"Cough—yes."
Carrying Seriel out of the Ten Thousand Year Ice Cave, Ricarton felt a strange tremor underfoot.
"Did you feel that just now?"
"You're inventing nonsense because you don't want to go back."
Having reached 6 Cores and 6th Class, his senses had grown extraordinarily sharp—so only he had felt it, apparently. The tremor was too unnatural to be a simple earthquake, but so faint that he dismissed it as imagination and moved on.
"……Since you so clearly don't want to return, I suppose it can't be helped. Let's go look at the Great Mountain Range while we're at it."
"That just sounds like Your Majesty wants to slack of—"
Thud!
Seriel's elbow drove into his solar plexus. He could have blocked it, of course—but if he had, her fragile elbow would have shattered to pieces, so he had no choice but to take the hit. It didn't hurt.
"Why would you—"
"Shut up and walk."
"Yes, ma'am."
I climbed to the summit of the snow mountain that housed the Ten Thousand Year Ice Cave, Seriel still in my arms. The Great Mountain Range towered like a wall across the north, as if it meant to pierce the sky. Imperial myth claimed the gods had raised it as a barrier against the invasion of giants, or something of the sort. Believe it or don't.
Seriel was sipping the black tea I'd packed in a thermos I'd made myself, thoroughly enjoying the leisure—
Rrrrumble— rrrumble—….
Snow piled along the mountain's far ridge gave way. It tore free more snow, and more still, gathering mass as it went—
"Oh, shit."
—and came down as an avalanche.
"What a spectacle."
From our safe distance, it was nothing more than a scene from a nature documentary.
"Kyaaaaah—!!"
A woman's voice snagged in my ear. A mana-laced scream had entered the range of my own mana. And the voice was somehow familiar. A slender little girl's voice……
"Somebody help meee—!!"
"……Lady Brunea?"
What are you doing out there?
"Brunea? You dare speak another woman's name while holding me?"
"No—Your Majesty, that's your daughter's name."
"……Is it?"
She reeled in the killing intent she'd been pouring out and went back to sipping her tea.
"It seems the Third Princess is in danger. May I go briefly?"
"You mean to abandon me here."
"Hahaha. That was actually pretty funny just now."
"Tsk. Go, then, and be quick about it."
"Yes, ma'am."
I opened all six Cores and stamped the ground. As I shot forward like a missile, my Mana Eye locked onto Brunea's mana signature, and I used wind-element magic to adjust course.
At my feet, every beast and magical creature was fleeing south. A rare sight—every animal and monster of one heart and mind, running from the tsunami of snow bearing down on them. And in the middle of that crush—
"Kyaaaaah—!!"
—Brunea was sprinting for her life. I released chains of mana, yanked her into the air, and the instant I had her in my arms, the avalanche swallowed the ground where she'd been standing.
"Haaah, haaah! L-Lord Ricarton!?"
"Your Highness Brunea, this doesn't seem like an appropriate place for running practice."
"Th-that's…… I was looking for medicinal herbs, and then……."
"Herbs again?"
This had happened before. Herbs, or flowers, or some kind of plant—she'd gotten herself stranded searching for them, and I'd had to go find her.
"……I'm sorry."
"You don't need to apologize to me. But this area is crawling with magical beasts and dangerous. On top of that, natural disasters like this one are a real risk—so you must always bring a capable knight with you."
"Yeees……."
Brunea drooped, head hanging low. I carried her back to where Seriel was waiting. Fortunately, she was still sipping her tea—with a face full of pure dissatisfaction.
"You're late."
"Wouldn't 'fast' be more accurate?"
It hadn't even taken three minutes. I'd gotten back before the tea in the insulated cup could go cold.
"So that is my daughter."
"Uh—th-then…… Mothe—n-no, Y-Y-Your Majesty! I greet Your Majesty!"
Flump!
Brunea dropped into a full formal bow on the snow. At that angle, it was practically a face-plant.
"Tsk. Because of you, I came all the way out here for nothing and only spoiled my mood."
"Come on—thanks to me, your daughter is alive. That deserves a reward."
"As a reward, I shall bestow one hundred lashes of the whip."
"……I'll pass."
Even as she said it, she didn't seem particularly put out. Sixteen years of attending Seriel. I had reached the level where I could read her mood from her breathing alone.
"Y-Your Majesty! I-I have something I wish to present!"
Seriel didn't answer, only sipped her tea. I asked in her place.
"What is it?"
She pulled something from the pouch at her waist. A medicinal herb caked in dirt and snow.
"Oh—isn't this the Patience Winter Silver Moon Herb!"
A rare plant that bloomed sparingly in the deep snow of harsh winters, steeped in frigid mana. Its fruit was called the Silver Moon Bell, and it was used as an ingredient in high-grade restorative elixirs. The specimen in her hands had three gleaming Silver Moon Bells hanging from it. An extraordinarily precious reagent—even I had only seen it a handful of times.
"I-I heard Your Majesty was unwell, so I thought it might help……."
"Thank you, Your Highness."
"Hehe……."
I showed it to Seriel. She gave it only the briefest glance.
"Drop it off roughly at the northern fortress and come back."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Th-thank you! May Your Majesty enjoy good health!"
I took Brunea's hand and teleported us to the front of my uncle's residence.
"Thank you."
"I'm the one who should be thanking you."
"Huh?"
"You went and found such a precious herb for Her Majesty."
"Hehe."
"That said, from now on, going off alone on dangerous stunts like that is forbidden. Understood?"
"Yeees……."
"And—Her Majesty was very pleased, you know."
I leaned in and whispered it to Brunea just before I left. A bright white smile bloomed even whiter across her pale face.