Playing with Fire
I-I have to salvage this, no matter what.
Cronen had been backed into a corner by Titania playing the pitiful victim and that insufferable Phlux taking her side for God only knew what reason. On top of that, he had disgraced himself by cowering before Raymon's cold intimidation. But things could not end like this.
He shot a sharp signal toward Gregory. Gregory, who had been staring blankly as if his very soul had been torn from his body, seemed to snap back to his senses the moment he caught Cronen's eye.
The Princess has left, at least. I need to clear the air and send these people packing.
The Young Duke of Castrein had materialized out of thin air and swept Princess Titania away on his own whim, leaving the temple... in absolute shambles. To make matters worse, word was that even the chamber housing the Holy Relic had sustained damage. At this rate, it was doubtful whether they could hold the Offering Festival at all.
Though they had just been at each other's throats trying to shift the blame, for now, they had to manage the fallout.
"...Everyone, while much has transpired today, I must ask you to return home for now. I give you my word that I will resolve this unfortunate incident."
"Well, well, well."
Right on cue, Lisianthus spoke up. A moment ago, he had been staring after Raymon—who had swept Titania into his arms and vanished with a face so sour it looked as though he had bitten into a whole raw lemon. Now, squaring his broad shoulders as if nothing had happened, Lisianthus let out a threatening drawl.
"Sir Gregory, wasn't it? The very man who had such an overwhelming mountain of duties that he just had to send me faaar, far away?"
"..."
His fiery red hair was wildly disheveled, and beneath it, eyes of the exact same crimson blazed with dangerous intent. Coupled with the hand resting conspicuously on the pommel of his sword, Lisianthus looked thoroughly, venomously provoked.
Small wonder—he had been seething for a while now. Specifically, ever since he was forced away from the temple to wander aimlessly in the boondocks, only to realize Titania had been left behind without a single decent guard to protect her.
Or, to be more precise, from the moment he saw the flames leaping from inside the building.
A sharp sense of déjà vu had struck him.
It wasn't as if it had happened that long ago, after all.
Just recently, hadn't Lisianthus joined hands with Titania to set off their own cheerful blaze at the Rose Palace?
Back then, as shocking, baffling, and slightly hilarious as it had been, he hadn't felt this gnawing fury. Watching Titania run around so vibrantly had stirred strange, fleeting feelings in him at times, but his honest reaction had simply been: I never knew she had a side like this.
Yet the more he learned about her after that day, the more a complicated emotion took hold of him.
It closely resembled guilt, though he could never bring himself to admit it. Titania acted as if she had forgotten the days when she would glare at him like she wanted to tear his throat out. Just as she had claimed, she behaved like an entirely different person—bright and brisk around Raymon, and...
She never looks out for herself.
She never hesitated to put herself on the front line.
Not that there was anything wrong with her actions; everything she orchestrated had turned out to be quite successful. Even so, spotting the bright flames consuming the temple from a distance had filled Lisianthus with a sickening foreboding.
He had accompanied her here to protect her. Considering her uncanny guts—running wild amidst swarms of demonic beasts without a trace of fear, despite having narrowly escaped death once—he had figured someone like him, unburdened by court etiquette and appearances, needed to stick right beside her to keep things from going off the rails.
Of course, by the time Lisianthus arrived at the blazing temple and laid eyes on Titania, her little theatrical production was already in full swing. Debbie and Barbara were frantically clinging to her, crying, "Please calm yourself, Your Highness!" and she didn't seem to have any serious injuries, so it clearly wasn't a real disaster.
And yet...
Why?
Why on earth hadn't she run?
Naturally, there was a strong chance she had started the fire herself, just as she had at the Rose Palace. In fact, that was almost certainly the case. Who in their right mind would set fire to the Southern Temple right before the Offering Festival? Besides, Lisianthus knew full well just how capable Debbie was as both a bodyguard and an assassin.
With Debbie standing right beside her, who could possibly steal a holy sword? And with so many townsfolk rushing over in shock with water buckets, Titania had simply seized the stage, putting on a show before the crowd to get whatever she wanted out of it.
Still, it's dangerous, isn't it?
If he had been there, he would have stopped her. No, he would have opposed lighting the fire in the first place. This wasn't the Rose Palace. Back then, it was the Imperial Palace—her own territory. Everyone would have banded together to save her. Here, however, things were different.
What if someone used the chaos to actually harm her? What if the flames spread too fast and she suffered real injury?
Of course, Lisianthus knew the biggest reason of all.
"Quite a magnificent display. Truly admirable, wouldn't you say?"
"Do you have something you wish to say to me, my lord?"
"Oh, nothing much. I was just wondering if you still plan to insist you're the chief escort responsible for Her Highness Princess Titania's safety after things turned out like this."
At Lisianthus's blatant sneer, Gregory's eyes turned vicious. The soldiers who had followed Lisianthus into the distance, only to return belatedly upon spotting the fire, looked between the two in sheer panic, unsure of what to do.
"Who in this world could have anticipated a fire breaking out in the temple?"
"Setting aside your pathetic excuses, do you have any intention of handing that chief escort title over to me?"
"Now you're overstepping your bounds entirely! Ha! No matter how grand the authority of House Castrein may be, I am His Imperial Majesty's—"
"Do you know what happens on a battlefield to an incompetent commander who can't read the room and won't take responsibility?"
Lisianthus tilted his head to the side with a grin. It was an innocent smile like a boy's, mischievous like a troublemaker's, and vile like a demon's.
"Their own subordinates slit their throats."
"..."
"If you're useless, you ought to just stay buried in a dark corner. Petty tricksters like you usually end up dragging their men straight to hell first."
"Are you threatening me right now?"
Because Titania was desperate.
'When they remodel the Rose Palace, slip some of the Duke's people in and make me a dog-door.'
'...'
'I'll pay you back later. For now, well... as they say, I'm just a mayfly princess who could burn to death if someone decides to set a fire for kicks.'
Because she believed that taking risks was perfectly fine, so long as it produced a slightly better outcome...
He still remembered the way those green eyes had smiled so breezily. The very next moment, as others came swarming in, those clever green eyes had shifted in the blink of an eye into the guise of a hysterical lunatic.
Just when had Raymon—his own brother—realized how much she had changed? Had he known from the very beginning?
When Raymon showed up here, Lisianthus was stunned. While everyone else had been shocked too, Lisianthus's feelings were different.
He was aware that Debbie regularly sent reports to House Castrein's main estate using specialized communication channels. That was only natural, given that an emergency could strike at any moment. Even so, he had never expected Raymon to personally appear.
The brother he knew was the incarnation of duty itself. The situation in the North was far from peaceful right now—even Lisianthus, who only did what he was told, knew that much. Raymon was practically the acting Duke. For a man of his standing to come all the way down south was akin to drawing an ox-slaughtering cleaver just to butcher a chicken.
Naturally, even Titania—who had been having the time of her life playing the wronged maiden to screw over those priests—had frozen in utter bewilderment.
Raymon had pressured the hesitating princess into silence, practically spiriting her away on the spot. Anyone watching would have thought he was abducting a bride under a blanket. It was completely unlike him. The way he refused to let go of her, almost forcibly, looked distinctly bizarre even to Lisianthus.
Was Raymon always the type to push forward like a battering ram? Certainly not. He had looked utterly desperate to tear Titania away from this place that very second.
His face had been as impassive as ever and his tone just as flat, but the subtle urgency in his movements betrayed his agitation. He hadn't given the flustered princess a chance to react, nor had he offered a proper explanation to her bewildered attendants.
It was as though he were terrified of something.
And if he was afraid... of what?
Lisianthus knew instinctively. Perhaps he was imagining the same thing: just like that time she saved Bibi, when she lost consciousness with nothing more than a faint smile playing upon her lips.
Staking her own life as a bargaining chip, smiling faintly with a murmuration of 'I got what I wanted, so it's fine' before slipping into a deep sleep... Titania always looked so terribly fragile.
"A threat? Well, I'm just complaining that a commander should actually act like one to be worth serving. If that sounded like a threat to you, Sir Gregory, I guess you've lived a life where you never knew what a real threat was."
The things that forced that Titania to take such risks.
"Priest Cronen, Sir Gregory."
Lisianthus beamed like a hunting hound locking onto its prey. Gregory met his gaze, and beside him, Cronen—who had barely managed to coax the citizens into leaving—froze in unison.
"Let's look forward to working together for a good, long time. Understood?"
Lisianthus probably didn't realize it, but in that moment, he bore an uncanny resemblance to Raymon, who had cornered everyone in the room just moments ago when coming for Titania. Especially with the murderous intent bleeding from his eyes in dark, jagged waves.
Of course, for Cronen and Gregory, who had been plotting behind the scenes only to take a vicious blow to the back of the head before they could even carry it out, the sheer injustice of it all must have felt bitter indeed.