At the Moon Tower - 5

The imperial family opposed the subjugation of the South partly because everyone harbored their own reasons to object — but more than that, there was something in the South that must never be touched.

Development was one thing. Subjugation was another.

It was a slightly different matter from Mirajane's reasons for opposing the campaign, but there was something only the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Crown Prince and the Emperor knew.

That was precisely what was marked on this map. Mirajane, of course, likely believed it simply showed where the non-humans lived — but there was a separate reason for marking the lands where the non-humans dwelt.

'Because the relics are there.'

The continent had once belonged almost entirely to the Empire. It had since declined, its dominion reduced to the northern reaches — but the relics the Empire had hidden across its former territories in the old days still existed to this day.

The Moonstone, the thing that had set my regressions in motion, was one of them, and the Temple of the Moon Adrian had spoken of was part of those relics as well.

Mirajane did not know this. Whether the Emperor and Crown Prince had kept it from her, or whether the Crown Prince had uncovered it in secret, I couldn't say — but it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was certain that, at this point, she knew nothing of the relics' existence.

The grounds she took for opposing the subjugation rested instead on the fact that the non-humans were scattered across a great many places.

"At this scale, even dispatching the imperial army would be a struggle. So that's why you showed me this, isn't it? To give me grounds to object."

"That is one reason. But I also wished to show you that I stand on the imperial family's side."

"And why would you want to do that?"

"To show you that House Taylor is going to change."

At my faint smile, Mirajane studied me in silence.

The bewilderment from before was gone. If anything, she seemed to be searching for what I was scheming — for what it was I truly wanted.

Every word of it was sincere. Until now, House Taylor had been my father's and Yuria's. But I could hardly promise it would remain so.

Now that I had resolved to become the Family Head, I would have to claim that seat before I ever struck at the Crown Prince. That was why I had chosen to approach the Princess in this manner.

It was, admittedly, something of a shortcut — making use of what I had gained in my previous cycle — but no method could be more effective than this.

A step ahead of Mirajane as she tried to read my intent, I spoke first.

"I intend to become the Family Head."

"...It doesn't sound like a joke."

"Because it isn't one. I will take the Young Matriarch's seat from Yuria Taylor, and it will be I who inherits House Taylor."

At my utterly unshaken confidence, Mirajane looked genuinely taken aback.

She must have been wondering what grounds I had to speak so boldly. With only the single map I'd handed her, the position Yuria had cemented as Young Matriarch was far too entrenched to shake.

But there is no tree that does not fall to the axe. However mighty the ancient tree — even one that seemed to pierce the very heavens — strike at it without cease, and in the end it must come crashing down.

Means of dragging Yuria down from her seat? I had them in overflowing supply.

I simply had no intention of using them. If I tore her down by striking at her directly, the odds of Yuria's mind truly breaking were slim.

"Handing a single map to the imperial family hardly seems like enough to make you the Young Matriarch of Taylor."

"I have ties to the North."

Adele Egret. Nothing had been settled yet — but that a connection existed, of that much I was certain.

Catching my meaning, Mirajane's eyes narrowed.

"The North" was another word for the Grand Duke. The mere existence of such a tie spoke of an influence that could never be dismissed.

When I produced the handkerchief Adele had once given me, Mirajane let out a hollow laugh and pressed a hand to her forehead.

It was something I ought to return, surely — but there could be no harm in putting it to use for now.

She also knew I was on quite close terms with the Saintess. Not friends yet — but well on the way to becoming them.

I held the acquaintance of Adrian, Saintess of the Moon Church that commanded the faith of nine in ten of the Empire's people, and of Adele, guardian of the North. And beyond that, my position was already that of eldest son of Taylor, the Empire's one and only ducal house.

My footing might be unsteady now — but who was to say it would remain so?

"And a tie ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to the imperial family itself will be forming before long, I expect."

When I tapped the map twice and held it out, Mirajane gave a short laugh and accepted it.

Ownership of the map hardly mattered, in any case. Its contents were already carved into my memory; how she chose to use it was her affair.

It was a certainty the thing would find its way to the Crown Prince, which meant word would reach me soon enough.

And that was how a line to the imperial family would be drawn.

At this point in time, who could suit the seat of Taylor's Family Head better than I? From the imperial family's standpoint, at least, they would far prefer me — well-disposed toward them, unlike the current Family Head or Young Matriarch — to take that seat.

Could they refuse? This declaration that I would become the Family Head — could it still be laughed off as jest, even now?

When I met Mirajane's eyes with exactly that intent, her expression clouded for a moment before she let out a long, deep sigh.

Utterly outplayed, she threw both hands up and broke into a radiant smile.

"Fine. I'll concede the point — you as Family Head would suit the imperial family far better. So what you need from us is our support, then?"

"Not right away. I intend to see the winter's affairs through first, and begin moving in earnest come next spring."

"...Very well. I couldn't have imagined hearing words like these today. Do you know what I thought, when you said you wanted to meet with me?"

"What did you think?"

"That House Taylor had come to pressure me again. I was half-resolved to grab Adrian and spend the whole day talking, if only to spare myself the headache. And yet now..."

She held my gaze for a long moment, then added with a smile far more bewitching than any she had worn before:

"You're just about worthy of being taken as my lover. Well? Any thoughts on the matter?"

"Then I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. It hasn't been long since my engagement was broken off."

"So the answer is 'not yet.'"

Mirajane nodded, as though she had expected precisely that.

But I had a feeling this would continue. She would likely do the same every time our paths crossed — knowing her nature, there was little chance she meant such remarks as mere jokes.

Rising from her seat, she strode over to me and pressed something into my breast pocket.

I turned the object over in my hands, and before long realized what it was, chuckling despite myself.

A compact communication artifact — one of those devices that let two people speak across any distance. I knew they cost a small fortune.

Was she truly in a position to be handing such things to me?

"Reach out to me. It needn't be about matters like today's — for you, I would welcome even the idlest of chatter."

So saying, Mirajane gave a light wink.

Even as I shrugged at her words, my mind was filled to the brim with thoughts of what I had gained today.

How to read this favor was a question for later — but one thing was certain.

My plan to approach the imperial family had borne truly splendid fruit.

I was on the verge of taking my leave of the Moon Tower and had gone looking for Adrian, only to be told she was up on the rooftop.

Leave I might, but surely I owed her a farewell first.

Walking the spiral stairs once more toward the rooftop, open wide to the sky, I found a lone woman gazing blankly up at the heavens.

White cloth billowed in the cool wind.

It was the same pure-white robe she had worn the last time we met. I watched the golden hair dancing above it for a moment, then spoke with care.

"The wind is cold."

The deep of autumn had settled in, summer's traces fading little by little. Her clothes looked thin enough that I asked after it, and Adrian turned her head toward me with a small smile.

"Ah — it was you, Sir Taylor. I heard sounds rising from below and wondered who it might be."

"Thanks to you, my talk with Her Highness the Princess went smoothly. It seems I owe you my thanks."

"Not at all. Had it been left as planned, you would have met her in that garden — I was the one who stubbornly summoned you all the way to the Moon Tower."

With that, her gaze drifted back toward the moon.

Was there some reason she kept looking at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a moon she could not even see?

Just as the question took shape, Adrian's lips stirred.

"Is the moon still white?"

"...That's rather sudden."

"The last moon I remember was white. It always hung vast in the sky — a white so bright it filled my eyes to overflowing."

Come to think of it, Adrian had not been a Saintess from birth. Only once she had reached a certain age did the Order, awakening to what she was, formally name her the Saintess.

And when the god Himself chose her as well, blessings rained down from every corner of the Empire upon the first Saintess to be born in ages.

Of course she remembered. The last moonlight she had ever seen with her own eyes was the final moment she ever beheld the world.

After a moment's deliberation over how to answer, I followed her gaze to the sky and replied.

"It will likely stay white. It was white when the Empire was born — perhaps it will remain so until the day we die."

"How kind of you. Most people don't bother to answer. Mirajane would have, I suppose. But most people tend to treat me as far too special."

"That is because you are special."

"You don't seem to think of me as all that special, Sir Taylor. You teased me just last time, after all."

Last time — she meant the moment she had been startled into a shriek.

I hadn't meant to tease her. I simply hadn't known a woman called the Saintess could make such a sound, and it had caught me somewhat off guard.

That incident had loosened my manner toward her, if only a little. I had come to see her less as some exalted Saintess and more as simply a woman of her years — nothing more, nothing less.

"I had no intention of teasing you. Whether you believe that is another matter."

"I'll believe you — this once, and only this once. But if you do it again..."

"If I do it again?"

"...I really couldn't say. I find I've no particular wish to punish you, Sir Taylor."

With a soft laugh, Adrian drew her gaze from the sky and turned it upon me.

The faint moonlight lent her face a slightly pale glow. A gentle smile played on her lips — and yet there was something faintly sorrowful beneath it. Or was that only my imagination?

Adrian regarded me in silence for a long moment, then spoke quietly.

"You said that even without sight, there are things you can see."

"Yes. I heard you say as much earlier."

"Do you know what I see, when I look at you, Sir Taylor?"

I weighed the question, then admitted I did not — and Adrian began to move slowly toward me.

The rooftop of the Moon Tower was not large. A handful of steps was all it took to close the distance between two people, and before I knew it she stood just before me.

One more step and we would have collided — yet she stopped short of touching me.

As though she knew exactly where I stood.

"I see nothing at all. As though you were a dead man."

Her voice reached me trembling, soft as the first ripple over still water.

Her hand rose and glided down across my chest, and on Adrian's face I could see a faint, threadlike unease.

Adrian's hand had touched my body.

As though to confirm that I was still here, her arm kept moving — and I simply watched it.

"...It's strange, isn't it? A person cannot simply vanish in the space of a breath. And yet whenever I look at you, that is what I think. I see nothing — so if your voice were to stop, I would wonder whether you had slipped away somewhere beyond my reach. The reason I always ask to see you again when we part... do you understand it now?"

"I think I understand it, a little."

Come to think of it, Adrian had never once parted from me without adding those words. I had taken them for common courtesy — but there had been a far deeper reason all along.

The reason she could see nothing in me had to be the regression. Perhaps I had lost the attachment to life that any living soul ought to carry, and what remained was an emptiness no different from a corpse's.

Adrian withdrew the hand that had been resting against me, and when I said nothing, she murmured softly.

"I believe you are still standing there."

"You may believe it. If I ever go, I will tell you that I am going."

That seemed to ease her somewhat. Standing a step further away now, Adrian turned her face toward where mine was.

Blind, she aimed her gaze a little too high — but her wish to meet my eyes could not have been clearer.

Unlike the pallor of moments ago, a faint flush had crept into Adrian's cheeks.

I waited to hear what she would say. A long while passed before her lips finally parted.

"The next time we meet... when that time comes."

"Yes. Go on."

"When that time comes... call me Adrian."

Adrian was her name.

What did it mean, for a woman to ask to be called by her given name? However many times I turned the question over, her meaning seemed nothing more than something pure.

She simply wished to be called by her name — the next time we met. She wished, at that point, to be my friend.

I found myself facing eyes that saw nothing — and yet saw more than anything else in this world.

Before those transparent eyes, I could not bring myself to speak a falsehood. I smiled and answered plainly.

"I will."

Perhaps, the next time we met, I would no longer be able to call her Saintess at all.

The smile she gave me in return shone brighter than anything else.

Tonight the moon had all but vanished from the sky — and yet I had met a light more brilliant than any.

Of all places, at the Moon Tower.

It had been quite the fruitful evening.