My Name Is - 1
I found myself arriving at a fundamental question. There are only three mealtimes in a day. Was it truly right to waste a full one of them on the Crown Prince?
Of course it wasn't. Spend my precious dinner hour with the Crown Prince? The one stretch of the day that ought to be calmer and happier than any other, twisted into something tedious and irritating?
This is wrong.
My teeth ground together. Honestly, the Crown Prince would rather dine alone with the Crown Princess than eat with me.
And yet the bastard had summoned me. He had given up time with the Crown Princess he so adored and chosen me instead.
Oh, for fuck's—
The thought that rose unbidden nearly dragged a curse out of me. The phrasing on that one was all kinds of wrong.
Anyway—if the Crown Prince was calling for me, something had blown up important enough to put my summons at the top of the priority list. Roughly on par with assaulting a member of the royal family or the unauthorized execution of a prisoner.
But nothing sprang to mind. If it were serious enough to drag me in, I—being the party involved—would have known about it. No matter how hard I thought, I couldn't find a reason for a sudden summons.
There's no way he's calling me just to offer congratulations.
A meal laid on for a favored subordinate. Unfortunately, the Crown Prince was not the sort of man who went in for cute, simple gestures like that.
Besides, when he did congratulate someone, he tended to shove something that glittered gold into their hands. Considering how much of that I'd already received over the past two years—the problem wasn't the gifts so much as finding time to use them.
Guess I'll just have to go and find out.
In the end, the road looped right back around to having to show up in person. Even if I hadn't reached that conclusion, I was in no position to refuse—but still.
Surely he wasn't calling me about the Magic Lord. The bastard was a lunatic, yes, but he wasn't the kind of absolute piece of garbage who would haul someone in from a distance just to gloat.
...Right?
The moment I arrived at the Crown Prince's palace, the knight at the main gate opened the way for me as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Calm as a restaurant part-timer recognizing a regular.
He didn't even bother saying the Crown Prince was waiting. The unspoken message—I won't stop you, so go on in—left me feeling oddly wretched.
Have I become that familiar?
I glanced at the knight, then quietly moved on.
I could understand the attitude well enough. This was already my third summons in the second half of the year alone. When someone kept turning up the moment you forgot about them, following the full procedure every time would get tiresome.
I was going to make sure there wasn't a fourth visit. At this rate, I might walk in one day and find them greeting me from a couch.
"Chief of the Audit Department."
"Ah, Head Butler. It's been a while."
Not long after I entered the palace, the head butler who managed the Crown Prince's residence came out to welcome me.
Seeing him put me strangely at ease. For a stretch I had only come here for disciplinary reasons and never laid eyes on him. Only now did it truly sink in that I was visiting for a dinner invitation rather than a scolding.
"Yes, it has been some time. I heard you had come by on several occasions, but we never actually met."
"Haha. With how busy you are, Head Butler, it couldn't be helped."
Perhaps he felt much the same; he mentioned the matter lightly.
A subordinate who showed up more often because of some incident than as a guest... Even I had to admit that wasn't normal. My chest felt a little tight.
At my reaction, the head butler smiled faintly and turned, as if inviting me to follow.
"Still, hosting two valued guests today makes all the busy work worthwhile."
"Two?"
Unexpected. The Crown Prince was more buried in work than most civil servants, and invitations to the palace itself were rare.
When he needed someone, he preferred communication crystals; if a face-to-face was unavoidable, he would ambush them at their own offices. From the victim's point of view, the sheer viciousness of it was enough to bring tears to the eyes. That was the Crown Prince.
"Yes. Her Highness the Crown Princess has also invited a guest."
"I see."
The answer made perfect sense; I nodded. Right—I couldn't picture the Crown Prince inviting anyone. Harassing people half to death, sure. Easy to imagine.
"Chief. Which is why I must ask your understanding about something."
"Please speak freely. What could there be that requires my understanding in His Highness the Crown Prince's own residence?"
I answered lightly as the head butler carefully opened his mouth. In the Crown Prince's palace, the will of the Crown Prince and Crown Princess took precedence. The opinion of a mere guest was not required.
Even so, my expression softened of its own accord. The head butler surely knew that obvious fact. That he had still gone out of his way to ask for my understanding meant he respected me that much.
Kind words invited kind words in return. Crown Prince, take notes—you were worse than your own staff.
"Thank you. I was reluctant to say it, but you've given me courage."
Still smiling, the head butler paused a moment before continuing.
"Her Highness the Crown Princess's guest is still remaining in the palace. It seems she may stay for quite some time..."
"Meals are more enjoyable with company, aren't they?"
"Haha. My thanks once again."
I had already guessed what he meant to say, so I answered first. If the guest was still here—well, unless she was mid–fasting prayer, dining together was only proper.
If anything, this worked out well. I still had no idea why the Crown Prince had summoned me, so the more insurance I had, the better.
The Crown Princess as my dedicated restraint. And on top of that, a guest she had personally invited. Even the Crown Prince wouldn't dare act too freely with that lineup standing in the way.
Lucky break.
I was satisfied. Enen hadn't abandoned me completely after all.
"By the way, Head Butler—who did Her Highness the Crown Princess invite?"
The precious shield that would protect me from the Crown Prince. At the very least, I ought to know who it was as a matter of courtesy. A proper thank-you and a little flattery prepared in advance would put that shield in a better mood.
Who could it be?
I ran through the list of suspects on my own. Accepting an invitation meant she lived in the Imperial Capital, and dining together suggested a reasonably close relationship with the Crown Princess.
A young lady of Marquis Disso's house? Or Marquis Ripur's? Possibly even Count Johannes's family.
"Ah—someone the Chief knows quite well, in fact."
At my question, the head butler's once-gentle expression shifted.
What? Had I been wrong to ask? He looked like he'd been waiting for me to bring it up.
"Miss Erzebet of the Masallo Marquisate."
"...What?"
At those words, my mind simply stopped.
I was cutting into my steak when I slowly lifted my head.
When I did, I saw a woman quietly working her knife as well. Neatly combed white long hair. Red eyes holding not the usual madness or mischief, but a quiet calm. And instead of the pitch-black Audit Department uniform—a white dress.
That's... the First Division Chief?
Cognitive dissonance hit hard. She was the First Division Chief, and yet she didn't look like the First Division Chief at all. A face I knew, and yet completely unfamiliar.
"Heh. What a coincidence. I never imagined the Audit Department Chief would be coming as well."
"Indeed. A curious coincidence, isn't it."
The Crown Princess broke the silence, and the Crown Prince answered at once.
Coincidence?
At that nonsense, I turned my gaze toward the Crown Prince without thinking—only for him to wordlessly drink his wine.
That bastard. Even he knew it was pure garbage, so of course he felt guilty.
What coincidence is this supposed to be?
The Crown Prince and Crown Princess were exceptionally close. There was no way those two wouldn't know whom the other had invited. They knew perfectly well and were still putting on this act.
Not a coincidence—a plan. They had deliberately set out to put me and the First Division Chief together.
Why?
That was the problem. I couldn't understand why the Crown Prince and his wife would go so far as to arrange a setup like this.
I had thought that once I accepted the invitation, I would learn why they had called me. Instead of answers, things had only gotten more complicated.
Fear born of the unknown.
I quietly lowered my eyes. Ignorance and the unknown really were this terrifying...
It was stifling. I wanted to throw the whole thing off right that second.
But under the occasional sharp glance from my senior, I silently kept cutting my meat.
Endure it.
If my appearance slipped even a little, my senior would be furious. She absolutely hated seeing her work ruined.
"...What is that outfit supposed to be?"
"What's wrong with it? It's comfortable."
I had gotten the Deputy Director's approval for early leave and rushed over, but instead of a welcome, my senior had greeted her junior with a scolding over clothes.
"You look like the one person who'd be sitting in the guest seats while everyone else is in wedding dresses."
That one almost made me cry for real. Why did she have to get more and more specific? It was like she'd seen the future.
"You—if you keep acting like this, you'll stay like that forever. You need to show the Audit Department Chief a new side of yourself."
"But with the Chief, I just want to be myself—"
"Yourself, who has done nothing but stack up anger management issues for him."
If it hadn't been the Crown Princess, I really would have hit her.
Anyway, my senior insisted I needed novelty rather than familiarity, and produced a dress. A soft, pure white dress. Durability so low it looked ready to tear the moment I moved with any comfort.
"Ugh, I hate this kind of thing."
"Senior. Can't I just wear the uniform? Matching clothes with the Chief would feel more intimate, wouldn't it?"
"People have clothes that suit them..."
It was far too uncomfortable to put on without complaint, so I kept voicing my dissatisfaction without pause.
"Just! Put! It! On! Don't waste that perfectly good face!"
"Ow, that hurts!"
In the end, my senior's temper flared and she enthusiastically beat my back.
"If you take away the face, you don't even have any other advantages—so why won't you use it?!"
"That's so mean!"
...Looking back, I think my spirit took a few hits too.
So with tears in my eyes, I put on that thoroughly uncomfortable dress. My senior nodded as if satisfied, and the maids who came in later for makeup said I looked pretty, but none of it really landed. Would changing clothes even do anything?
It would.
Surprisingly, it did. Because for a while now I had been feeling the Chief's subtle gaze.
Pretending he wasn't looking while sneaking glances. Trying to look away, then peeking again and again.
Heehee.
I felt proud. See? The Chief was interested in me after all.
I had only dressed up a little—just a tiny bit—and he was already looking at me like this. That was only possible because there was affection there to begin with.
Thank you, Senior.
All the resentment from earlier transformed into overwhelming gratitude. When I looked at my senior with those eyes, she smiled faintly and moved her lips.
I couldn't hear the sound, but reading lip shapes was basic competence for the Audit Department. Understanding her meaning wasn't hard.
Don't get cocky... and confess right away...?
A characteristically aggressive statement from my senior. I turned my gaze toward the Chief. Truthfully, I had already been planning to, even without being told. Today's dream had been far too horrible.
The Chief seemed captivated by my charm, and my senior was pushing hard—so this was the perfect moment. Right now, I could tell him how I felt.
"……."
But contrary to that resolve, my mouth only opened and closed pitifully, and no words came out.
Strange. Why couldn't I speak? This was the perfect chance. If I said it now, everything would be over.
...We're still mid-meal.
After some thought, I found the reason. Confessing during a meal would look ridiculous. That was why.
Yes. That was all it was. I was definitely not doing this because I was nervous.
I was from a marquis's house too—I had to observe basic etiquette, of course.
—Screeech
"...Princess?"
"Oh my, I'm so sorry. My hand slipped for a moment."
I pretended not to hear the sound of a knife scraping.