A Familiar Dilemma
The broad avenue leading to the Imperial Palace.
"The line is ridiculously long."
Lucia pulled her head back in from the carriage window, looking thoroughly fed up. The procession stretched dense before and behind their vehicle, leaving them nowhere to go.
"Just getting inside is going to take forever, isn't it?"
"That's because tonight's banquet is the Long Sword Night."
"...That's quite the grandiose name."
Lucia tilted her head at Hugo's reply. Her earrings brushed against bare shoulders left exposed by her dress, chiming softly.
"It isn't the sort of banquet held once or twice a year, you see. They needed a name to set it apart."
Hugo let out a hearty laugh at Lucia's sullen expression.
"All manner of social gatherings take place in Rihnn, but the Long Sword Night and the Assembly of the Sun are held within the palace itself, and so receive rather special treatment. They're also opportunities to make one's face known to the Imperial Family, which naturally swells the number of attendees."
It wasn't only the guests who made use of the occasion.
By parading the great houses of the empire and the envoys of friendly nations through orderly lines for ordinary citizens to see, the Imperial Family burnished its own authority and advertised the empire's grandeur.
Rattle—
After creeping forward like a tortoise for what felt like an age, the carriage suddenly stopped.
"—A brief inspection, if you please."
"..."
At the unpleasant word inspection, Lucia's head snapped around—but Hugo looked unbothered, as did Siriel, who had come along at Eldrina's invitation, and Shiron seated across from her.
Having grasped the wisdom of keeping quiet and getting through unscathed, Lucia pressed her lips shut and pretended indifference.
Doesn't seem like they're doing body searches, at least.
Indeed, after a flurry of movement outside the carriage, a multicolored wash of light swept over them—and the inspection was done.
"—Next!"
Several more checkpoints later, the carriage finally arrived before the building where the banquet was being held.
When Hugo opened the door—modified to accommodate his massive frame—ether-flashes erupted in a storm of light, and the clamor outside poured in. Lucia's sharp hearing picked out the murmuring with perfect clarity.
"—It's Hugo Prien."
"—Who's with him?"
"—Lady Prien doesn't seem to be among them..."
The party paid the idle chatter no mind.
"Watch your step."
Hugo offered his hand to Siriel, who lifted the hem of her dress and stepped down from the carriage.
Following Hugo's exemplary lead, Shiron did exactly the same.
Lucia's hand settled atop Shiron's, and together they walked the red carpet beneath a barrage of ether-flashes.
"—The living history of the empire's sword, head of the ancient Versaille family. Margaret Versaille."
"—Senator and head of House Rozaille, Count Mobilon Rozaille."
"—...Guardian of the Southern Gate. General Igor."
"—...Commander of the Red Lion Knights. Dexter Dras."
Introductions rang out across the vast space in the order of arrival.
Befitting a banquet hosted by the Imperial Family itself, there was not a single name among the guests that one hadn't heard before.
And at last, Hugo crossed the threshold.
"The Empire's First Sword. Hugo Prien."
No lengthy introduction was needed. Compared to the grand titles strung after every name that had entered before him, it was strikingly short.
People who hadn't so much as pricked an ear at the earlier announcements began glancing toward the banquet hall entrance.
For all the powerfully built warriors gathered there, Hugo's head still rose a full measure above the rest, making him impossible to miss.
What a circus.
Hugo exhaled a quiet sigh and withdrew his gaze from those angling for a chance to greet him.
"It seems we won't be able to stay together."
"Don't worry about us—go handle your business. I happen to have something to take care of myself."
Parting from Hugo, Shiron quickly surveyed the banquet hall.
Decorated in a splendor that flaunted imperial authority, the hall was packed with people of every stripe. Scanning their faces, he found half of them strangers and half familiar.
Most conspicuous among them was the Emperor, receiving greetings from a line of well-wishers. Leaning on a blue staff that symbolized the Imperial House, he did not look particularly healthy even at a glance.
...What is this?
Narrowing his eyes, Shiron studied the Emperor—still young enough that a staff should have been unnecessary.
He's still a long way from dying.
Shiron tilted his head.
While checking the faces of the bastards who'd been obstructing Hugo, he'd stumbled on an unexpected discovery.
And then—
While he was counting the age spots makeup hadn't quite managed to hide, a young man approached him.
Slightly wavy blond hair. Those easygoing eyes Shiron had known since childhood. In the time they'd been apart, his manner had grown a touch more arrogant.
But Shiron didn't hold it against him.
Anyone locked in a struggle for the throne was entitled to a little arrogance. Shiron greeted him with an exaggerated flourish.
"Well, well, who do we have here? Could it be His Highness Viktor?"
"...Cut it out, you're giving me chills. Or are you putting distance between us because it's been so long?"
"It's not because it's been a while."
"...Hm?"
When Viktor squinted one eye, Shiron gave a shameless shrug.
"I'm genuinely worried you might be developing an excessive fondness for me..."
"Excessive fondness? What is that supposed to mean?"
"...There are too many people around to go into detail."
"Shall we move, then? There's a quiet balcony."
"No. We'll do it here."
Shiron's expression turned dead serious on the spot.
It had been half a joke—but the way things were tilting made him genuinely uneasy. He drew Lucia in by the shoulder and took a step back from Viktor.
Viktor wore a dubious look, then turned a bright smile on Lucia.
"It's been a while for you too, Lucia. Glad to see you look well over the break."
"More or less."
"Anyway, it's good to see you after so long. I didn't want our reunion to be in a place this crowded, but I've got so much piled up that it couldn't be helped."
"...Why did you send the invitation?"
Shiron shifted his gaze from Viktor and swept the surroundings.
Conversing so freely with someone of a prince's exalted rank had drawn every kind of stare—curiosity foremost among them—in a shameless flood.
Every last one a stranger.
And none of those stares were friendly.
Still, Shiron had no desire to cause a scene after coming all this way.
Who does he think he is, talking to His Highness Viktor like that... The thoughts were written so plainly on their faces that he found himself too deflated even to bother arguing.
"The truth is, the reason I invited you—"
Tap—
Tap—
An irritating sound cut Viktor off mid-sentence. For a split second, Shiron saw Viktor's teeth clench shut.
"Viktor."
It wasn't Shiron who had spoken the name. The voice was lower, laced with naked hostility and contempt.
The First Prince. Austin.
"With whom are you conversing?"
"...I was speaking with a friend."
Viktor answered with a sigh.
A peculiar curve touched Austin's lips.
"Is a friend more important than your elder brother? I dragged this inconvenient body around searching for you, you know."
"...My apologies."
"I'm joking. So loosen that fist of yours."
"When did I ever— haha..."
Laughing awkwardly, Viktor opened and closed both hands.
Well, well?
As the exchange stretched on, Shiron's eyes widened despite himself.
With the Second Prince gone, Viktor had stepped into the succession struggle in his place.
They ought to have been rivals.
At the very least, they should have stood on equal footing.
Even if they didn't, they should have pretended to...
He's completely under his thumb.
An incredulous laugh nearly escaped him. Shiron clamped down hard on the corner of his mouth before it could lift.
"......doing well, I trust?"
"...Of course. Though it's nothing Your Highness need concern yourself with."
Even now,
Austin and Viktor were talking between themselves with Shiron standing there like a potted plant.
And he's still establishing dominance right in front of me.
Summoning a subordinate mid-errand to remind them who truly mattered. Shiron had a fair idea of what Austin thought of him.
So I'm a target for containment too.
Having taken his measure, Shiron decided to insert himself into their conversation.
"Your Highness Austin."
Interrupting was less than ideal, but this was an important figure he was meeting for the first time, so Shiron inclined his head with deliberate courtesy.
However unpleasant the man might be, his station demanded nothing less.
For now, he still had the composure for it.
Austin's eyes met Shiron's.
"Hm? Do you know me, young man?"
"Indeed. How could I fail to know the name and countenance of one of the stars of the empire?"
"Haha. You're making me blush."
Perhaps because Shiron had bowed first—or because Austin had decided conversation was worth his while—he turned fully toward him.
"Stand at ease. I've wanted the chance to speak with you face-to-face for some time."
"Is that so?"
"It is indeed."
So saying, Austin glanced down at Lucia for a moment.
"...Rather a different impression from what I'd heard."
Austin stroked his chin with slender fingers.
Impression?
When Shiron blinked, Austin seemed to read the look and laughed heartily.
"Your reputation has reached all the way to the capital, you see. I wanted to seize this opportunity and speak with you myself."
"How fortunate. Though..."
Shiron cocked his head.
"What sort of rumor was it that reached even Your Highness's ears?"
"You don't recall? The one about Sir Hugo having a good-for-nothing nephew."
"Ah. I remember. There was certainly a rumor like that."
Shiron smiled brightly down at Austin. Lame as he was, the height difference forced Austin to look up.
"Though it seems the rumors were exaggerated after all. I'd heard you laid hands on my younger brother, Viktor... Have you grown more sensible with age? You're more agreeable in conversation than I expected."
"Brother."
Viktor moved to intervene, but Austin only flicked him in the solar plexus—tap—openly dismissing him and crushing his spirit.
The brazen behavior made Shiron's brow furrow.
"In the end, you have to meet a person face-to-face and deal with them yourself."
"Haa... As Your Highness says."
You have to deal with a person yourself to know them.
That much was certainly true.
Shiron had never expected a saint—but he hadn't imagined that every single gesture would grate on him this badly until he'd experienced it firsthand.
"Haha. Haa..."
Heat flooded up through the crown of his head. Shiron tried to cool it. The forehead beneath his palm was burning, and the sighs he kept exhaling carried heat of their own.
Austin smiled at him with his eyes.
"Why so restless?"
He was asking a question he already knew the answer to.
"If you're unwell, I can summon the imperial physician."
"It's nothing like that."
Shiron scratched the bridge of his nose as it began to itch.
"I was just wrestling with a dilemma."
"A dilemma? Might I ask what sort? I may be of some small help."
"Mm... It's the kind of dilemma that's awkward to answer even if you ask."
"Ask away. I'm a curious sort by nature."
"Well then."
Shiron nodded and broke into a broad grin.
"I was debating whether to beat the living shit out of you right here."