How to Strangle a Tiger - 1
I couldn't claim that all 101 of my lives had been lived wisely. There had been no grand purpose behind them—I had simply wanted a future where I could laugh and be together with everyone. Just what was I supposed to have done to fulfill so vague and ill-defined a wish? I never did find the answer. It was a wish I had already abandoned, after all, and I no longer intended to live for anyone else's sake.
If asked whether I had done my best in my past lives, I would undoubtedly answer that I had. At the very least, there was no question I had lived earnestly in pursuit of the goals I set for myself. Of course, that isn't to say I never gave up on anything. I regretted those lives too, once—but I no longer dwell on them.
So when I sat down to think about how I would live this life, I was finally able to settle on one thing with perfect clarity: this time, I would not hesitate. I would no longer let my fixation on family cost me the crucial turning points. I counted two of them already behind me. I had saved Arwen, and I had met the Princess at the Family Head Council. And how had I used those two turning points? Judging by results alone, I considered it a personal success.
Adele had inserted herself into the rescue of Arwen, but she knew nothing of the details, and through the Family Head Council I had secured connections of a sort with Mirajen and Adrian. Was that not a gain beyond what I had expected?
Having passed through those two turning points, what was it, exactly, that I was aiming for?
"Family Head."
On the desk before me lay a diagram charting House Taylor's hierarchy of power, and at its very summit sat a single name. I had erased the one bearing my father's name and written my own in its place. Being framed for treason always befell me two or three years down the line. Variables? Even at worst, I had a full year of grace. And within that year, there was only one thing I needed to obtain: drive out Yuria, win Father's acknowledgment, and receive the succession through 'legitimate' procedure. Building my own faction that way was the greatest goal before me now. Gazing at the diagram, I murmured under my breath.
...In this life, at least, I—
"—will become the Family Head."
Adrian had seen me off as far as the entrance of the Moon Tower, saying we could simply meet again next time. There was no real need for it, but with the Princess insisting on escorting me as well, it felt a touch burdensome—her parting admonition that I be sure to contact her again included.
I studied the artifact tucked into my pocket for a moment, then slipped it away and exhaled a sigh. Whenever I laid eyes on Mirajen, things grew complicated in more ways than one. If I had to name the woman I had been closest to across every one of my lives, she would be the one, without question.
Theresia had been my fiancée, but a woman who had tried to exploit my family; with Adele, ours had been merely a lord-and-subordinate arrangement, nothing that could be called a true bond. But Mirajen was different. We had been lovers, and in one life I had even risen to the place of her destined beloved. That life, too, had ended in failure, yet the memory of it remained with me still. That was what made it complicated.
The next time I met her, I was the one being hunted; in later lives, there had even been times we became each other's enemies. In the life where I was called the Sword Saint, she had been the commander of the subjugation army hunting me, hadn't she? Perhaps because we were entangled by so many bonds in so many ways, some corner of my chest always felt strangely unsettled whenever I looked at Mirajen.
"No need for that anymore, I suppose."
It was true that Mirajen had taken an interest in me, but that didn't mean I had to take her every word at face value. Even her calling me her destined beloved was merely part of the ploy to reel me in. So long as I drew only the attention of the Crown Prince—my true target—Mirajen hardly occupied a position of any importance. It might sound a little unkind to her, but my concern began and ended with the Crown Prince. Unless she did something of her own accord, I doubted she would hold any position beyond a stepping stone for approaching him. Of course, if she had her own hand in my deaths, that would be another matter entirely.
Even so, the situation as it stood was fairly comfortable. Things would certainly grow hectic once winter arrived, but until then, it would be enough to keep an eye on Arwen and Yuria and little else. I had assigned considerable weight to the Family Head Council, yet everything had gone suspiciously smoothly. If I laid out what remained: I would speak with Arwen about what was to come, receive the Princess's contact and meet the Crown Prince, and beneath that, begin the groundwork for claiming the seat of Young Matriarch. And that groundwork, to explain briefly, meant making the servants of this ducal mansion my own.
At the call of his name, the door opened at once and Renald entered. The bundle of documents tucked under his arm was everything I had told him to prepare. He had gathered more than I expected—had he put in considerable personal effort, I wondered. A satisfying result. If Renald cooperated like this of his own accord, there would be no trouble in keeping him at my side going forward.
"Are these the materials I asked you to prepare?"
"Yes, Young Master. I have brought every record concerning the households and families of the mansion's servants."
"Well done. If you spent any money on this, tell me—I'll settle it separately."
"Thank you, Young Master."
There was a simple reason I had ordered the servants' information gathered. If I knew their households and families in advance, I could use that knowledge to approach them. Not that I intended to blackmail anyone with it—I meant to induce a 'misunderstanding' in a direction favorable to them, so to speak. Say something auspicious befell a servant's family, and in truth it came about through my help. Say a loved one fell ill, and by happy chance medical aid arrived and the sickness was cured. And if that aid had come at my direction? Their gratitude, no doubt, would flow my way.
Human nature is a comical thing: people prove more grateful to the wellspring of a favor than to the hand that delivered it. Just as praise for a policy lands on the Emperor even when some minor minister drafted it, what I meant to exploit was precisely that habit of theirs. Oppress people and clamp them in chains, and they only thrash harder. If I built my people this way, I trusted that dependable allies would soon take root. Whether they would follow me all the way into outright treason remained an open question, but it was still better than nothing.
Becoming Family Head, too, was part of building my faction. However I managed it, once I was Family Head, the house's members would have to obey my commands, willing or not. I had no taste for issuing orders backed by such coercion, admittedly, but a time might yet come when I had no choice.
"By the way, Young Master—it appears the Young Matriarch has been looking for you for some time now. How would you like to proceed?"
"...Looking for me?"
"Yes. She asked one of the other servants whether the Young Master was at home."
I didn't know what she wanted, but I had a fair idea. The matter at the Moon Tower had been kept sealed in complete secrecy, so she was most likely trying to seize on my disappearance mid-meeting. From the Princess's behavior, she might have guessed a fair portion of what I had done. If she was the Mirajen I knew, she would have moved by now—putting the map forward as her evidence, voicing concern over the non-human races' backlash, and pivoting her argument from subjugation toward slow assimilation instead. Since the matter had been decided at the Family Head Council, it would drive a wedge between the nobility and the imperial family. From the palace's side, it was time to start tightening the reins.
And how would Yuria react to that? She had been looking for me, had she? Then it would be best if I showed myself first. Renald watched me with a worried expression, but I told him it was fine and stepped out into the corridor. Then I made my way to the room where Yuria was staying and, without delay, knocked slowly on the door.
Knock, knock—
"It's Robert. I heard you were looking for me."
"...Come in."
Inside, Yuria was glaring at me with frost-chilled eyes, just as I had expected. This time her anger seemed to have set in good and deep; biting down hard on her lip, she opened her mouth without preamble.
"What exactly have you been doing? Why is the Princess—who went along with the subjugation right up until yesterday—now suddenly citing non-human races no one has ever heard of to oppose it?"
"I'm not sure why you're asking me that."
"Ha. Did you truly think I wouldn't find out? Robert, you had best not assume I am the only one watching you."
She drummed her fingers on the table for a moment, then spread open a copy of the map the Princess had championed and spoke.
"I knew you had gotten hold of a map recently. One with the southern terrain drawn in meticulous detail, no less. Did you think spending your own money would leave no record?"
"I was well aware of that. So—you believe I am the one who gave the Princess the map?"
"Deny it all you like. It's pointless—I'm speaking to you already knowing everything."
"It is indeed the map I gave."
Whether her claim of knowing everything truly meant knowing all of it was doubtful, but I nodded along obediently and answered. There was no need to hide everything from someone who came at me in that manner. If anything, my compliance seemed to enrage her further; Yuria's brow knotted fiercely.
"...Why, in the world? You know perfectly well how much weight Father places on this subjugation. Ah, of course—it has nothing to do with the succession, so I suppose you were simply casting about for a way to survive."
"Father likely knows as well. On a matter the Young Matriarch herself is aware of, there is no chance Father would truly say nothing."
Rather, the moment he laid eyes on that map, he would have realized it was my doing. And as for why he still said nothing to me—it must be because he had realized it profited House Taylor.
At this Family Head Council, the positions had split along starkly clear lines: the imperial family opposing the subjugation, and the nobility clamoring to press it through. The nobles' strength was so overwhelming that, for the moment, the subjugation looked all but approved, yet the palace was already maneuvering to drag the matter out and smother it however it could. In such a climate, what would the imperial family do if House Taylor stepped forward in opposition? They would all but hail us as saviors. They would hardly act on it openly, of course, but if we bent our stance on the subjugation even slightly, the palace would pay a price to match. Straddling the line between nobility and imperial family, playing tug-of-war with both—that was a game only House Taylor could afford.
Yuria's face went pale for a moment, and then the color began slowly seeping back into it. She had likely just realized how strangely this affair was turning. The wind was blowing my way. I was the one who had unfurled the sails; I was the one who had set the ship toward the open sea. And she had surely realized, too, that all of it had been by my design.
"What exactly are you scheming?"
"I'm afraid I don't follow."
"Don't think of playing word games with me. I am asking why you—who have never lifted a finger for this family until now—have suddenly decided to meddle."
The tremor running through her shoulders told me just how furious she was. By the time her clenched lips had drained ghost-white, I opened my mouth at last, in a tone so dry it might have been idle small talk—as though the words I was about to say meant nothing at all.
"I intend to become Family Head."
"...What?"
"It occurs to me that I, too, 'still' hold a legitimate right to the succession. It's true the Young Matriarch was chosen ahead of us when we were children. But House Taylor has one rule, you see."
Unless the Family Head named an heir by testament before his death, the qualification to succeed remained valid for anyone. This was why House Taylor had shed so much blood over the years—and, by the same token, why its dominion had endured unbroken to this day.
Yuria's gaze sharpened further. Those freezing eyes bored into my brow, and the cold steeped within them seemed to close over my whole body. But that was all it could do. She could not lay a hand on me here, so rage was the beginning and end of what she was capable of.
"Once I am Family Head, I intend to lead House Taylor as I see fit. Until now I've had little interest in power... but there's no need to stay that way forever, is there?"
After a fleeting smirk, I tilted my head slightly and added, "Could it be that you lack the confidence?"
"...You lunatic."
"I take it that's not the case, then."
Her eyes fixed on me in open contempt, yet a laugh slipped out of me unbidden. There was no wariness to be read in her gaze. She simply stared as though wondering what nonsense she was hearing—that was the whole of it. Judging by everything that had come before, she clearly believed there was no chance at all of my becoming Family Head.
"Then it seems our business is concluded. I'll take my leave."
But would she be able to keep that expression a year from now? I had always cursed the passage of time, yet this once, it was different. If time flowed swiftly, and I lived to witness a future in which I stood as Family Head—and watched Yuria crumble—
"...Young Matriarch."
What, I wondered, would I feel then? That alone was what I burned to know.
Thud—
The door closed, and silence stretched on for a long while. A stillness that seemed ready to erupt at any moment.