A Sin Beyond Forgiveness: "I'm Sorry. Please Forgive Me."
When I snapped back to consciousness, those words were already tumbling out of my mouth. I could've spun some more excuses if I'd really tried, but no matter how I sliced it, that would've just dug my grave deeper. Judging by the Crown Princess's demeanor, she'd clearly grasped the full situation before even bringing it up.
There wasn't some specific crime called "delusions of military rebellion" in the Empire, but everyone knew deception of a superior officer was a grave offense. I'd already collaborated in hiding the truth and filing a false report—what was the point of piling on more sins with lies she could see right through? Better to just smash my head into the ground and beg for mercy.
And I don't mean figuratively. Thud, thud. I slammed my forehead against the floor a few times. It wasn't Imperial etiquette, but this wasn't the time to quibble. I was just doing everything in my power to plead for compassion.
"There's no need for that when I'm not even there in person."
"However..."
"I said stop."
"Yes, Your Highness."
A sigh came through the receiver. Fortunately, it didn't sound laced with outright fury.
"Do you really have to make head-butting the floor into some kind of formal ritual? Is that another occupational hazard?"
"Uh... yes. It seems that way."
Then she tossed out what felt almost like a joke. Had she never been that offended to begin with? Or had my fervent isekai-style contrition lightened her mood? Either way, it was clear she wasn't planning to have me executed on the spot.
"So I'll ask again. Why on earth did you do it?"
"...The recruits did commit a wrongdoing, but it felt like they were being saddled with far too harsh a punishment for what was really just a bit of carelessness."
I carefully laid out my thoughts before her, holding nothing back—just pure honesty. It was the best approach, no matter how I looked at it.
"It wasn't a crime deserving of death. That's why I acted as I did."
"So you're saying you took it upon yourself to forgive a sin against the Imperial Family?"
"...I'll correct my error."
Wasn't it? Or had she just loosened the reins momentarily, only to yank them back? I shrank back down, prostrated once more, as her next words hit.
Looking at it this way, it really wouldn't be strange if she lopped off my head right then. To exaggerate a bit, it was like some random noble shielding someone who'd plotted harm against the Imperial Family. The severity might differ, but the charge was the same.
"I won't say 'don't let this happen again.'"
"No, Your Highness. From now on, I will—"
"No. From what I see, Lieutenant Konstantia, you'll absolutely do it again if the chance arises."
I tried to swear my undying loyalty in a panic, but she cut me off firmly.
"If you can save one or two lives just by covering it up properly, how could you pass that up? If it doesn't guarantee your own death—if there's even a decent shot at wriggling out of it—you'll do the exact same thing."
"......"
I fell silent. I couldn't confidently deny it myself, and I knew she wouldn't buy it anyway.
"So I won't tell you not to. Just report it honestly to me, at least. Even if you were shielding some girl who tried to kill me, I wouldn't hold it against you—just tell it straight."
I know you're the type who won't listen to a damn thing. Since you're not gonna stop, at least report it properly, please.
Was this what they called "favorite soldier" treatment? Not that I was in any position to complain.
"...Thank you, Your Highness."
But this was an enormous act of mercy. I knew that full well. It would've been far easier for her to skip prevention altogether and just focus on punishment—on me. Yet here she was, holding off on any penalty and even dangling this carrot?
If I couldn't feel grateful for that, I'd just be an ungrateful wretch.
"I'll end the call here. Take care of yourself."
"Yes, Your Highness. Long live His Imperial Majesty the Emperor!"
"Long live His Imperial Majesty the Emperor."
With that, the line went dead. I'd cleared the hurdle. I let out a massive sigh of relief.
×
"...Haa."
The sigh slipped out unbidden. The call had ended, but her hand still clutched the receiver, rooted in place. How much time passed like that? Crown Princess Rachel Beal Angras finally shook off her lingering thoughts and set it down with resolve.
"Even if you were shielding some girl who tried to kill me, I wouldn't hold it against you—just tell it straight."
She murmured those words she'd spoken moments ago, chewing them over alone.
It wasn't hyperbole. She meant every syllable.
And why wouldn't she? "I merely did what any subject of the Empire ought to do."
Even if the Crown Princess found her actions hard to swallow, they were undoubtedly for the good of House Angras and the Empire itself.
Rachel remembered every word Yura had said, crystal clear. They were too striking to forget, even if she tried.
"Are you prostrating yourself again while taking my call?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
"I told you it's fine."
"No authority, no matter how great, could make me abandon my loyalty to the Imperial Family."
If Yura deemed it harmful to the Imperial Family, she'd ignore any order. Even from the Crown Princess herself—or her mother, the Emperor.
Anyone could say that much on the spot. No special eloquence required; you could whip up lines like that in an instant.
...Yura had basically just repackaged "If I wanna play masochist, what business is it of the authorities?" on the fly.
But some words couldn't be rattled off so casually.
"Then what have you done for His Imperial Majesty the Emperor?"
It was over two years ago, but Rachel still vividly recalled the lieutenant barking that retort at the traitors.
The second princess had been a potential rival back then, but now she was bending over backward to show zero interest in the throne... In this settled succession, even manufactured loyalty had to be offered up.
From highborn to low, countless pledges and sentiments of loyalty flowed to her. Some overwhelmed by her authority alone, others fearing the power she wielded, still others honoring the Imperial traditions passed down through generations...
But they submitted to the Crown Princess of Angras Empire. None revered Rachel Beal Angras herself.
Rachel had only recently realized this. She'd never distinguished the two concepts herself.
Which was why... it was the first time.
"......"
She turned her head. A ornate silver candelabra stood there. Her violet Imperial hair glinted faintly on its polished surface.
Leaning closer, her reflection sharpened—like a mirror gazing back. In it, a small, frail child glared fiercely with crimson eyes.
Congenital dwarfism. Growth so stunted the doctor advised against pregnancy. A defective product, flawed both as a figurehead and for preserving the Imperial bloodline.
That was First Princess Rachel.
Of course, those flaws no longer held her back. Her position as eldest and overwhelming talent had long built an authority none could easily challenge.
But... that didn't mean Rachel herself was loved. The massive flaws remained flaws. Other qualities merely overshadowed them.
It was the first time. Not for the Crown Princess's seat, not for her power... but for Rachel as a person, someone showed such genuine submission.
Even faced with this wretched form, Yura Konstantia offered only unwavering, steadfast eyes.
Come to think of it, I started keeping this candelabra around right after that.
There'd been a time she'd banished anything reflective from sight. Not quite panic-attack levels at mirrors, but in her own room, she'd kept them hidden as much as possible.
Now she could peer at her face willingly... real progress.
Not all good, though. For instance...
Ever since that day, Rachel had—for the first time—felt jealousy toward her own mother.
Yura showed this level of loyalty even to her, who wasn't yet fully enthroned. No need to spell out what it'd be like toward the Emperor.
Embarrassing as it was against a mother she truly admired and loved... she burned with the urge to steal that priestess, to claim top priority.
She'd suppressed the impulse without acting rashly because the seat would roll her way eventually. And the moment she did, Yura—her original goal—would surely turn her blade this way.
So nothing for it. Quietly support Mother and bide her time.
But... it stung. Mother would reign at least another decade, right?
"Lieutenant. Why on earth were you born a woman...?"
That sigh was 100% sincere. Yura's earnestness toward her birth mother was a given; make her family, and it'd elevate Yura's priorities even higher.
That'd shave at least ten years off, no?
No, even if she'd been born a prince—which she couldn't anyway—the succession would be an issue...
Rachel groaned and sighed again. These weird thoughts meant she was probably tired.
She'd grilled Lieutenant Konstantia despite knowing no treason lurked, her mood soured unconsciously...
Though honestly, Yura's reactions every time were partly to blame... No, her mind was veering into trouble again.
Better shelve work and catch a nap.
With that, the Crown Princess rang for her attendants.
...P.S., two years prior, Yura Konstantia had simply been thinking, "I wanna get perfectly toyed with by a legal loli I could never lose to by force."