What Cannot Be Undone - 3
"How much do you know about the relics?"
"Only that they exist. Even that was mere conjecture until now... though not anymore."
Keitel, who had seated me back in my chair, gave a nod. Knowing the details of the relics should have been impossible. Even I knew only of the Moonstone—I had no idea what power each individual relic harbored. A question suddenly surfaced in my mind: did the Moonstone still exist? Since I had used it, it ought to be gone, but in this timeline I had never used the Moonstone at all. Had it vanished, or did it remain somewhere still? While I was turning that over, Keitel spoke.
"There's a book that says the power a relic holds is enough to claim an entire city. I believe I must have it to accomplish the purpose I bear. What's your read on it?"
"If it can be taken, then taking it would be for the best. The question is whether it can be brought out at all. If it's a relic tied to the moon, the Church would hardly take its eyes off it."
"...If it were tied to the moon, that would be true."
The Crown Prince gave a small laugh, then swept his gaze around the room before fixing it on me. And then he spoke, cheerfully, as though tossing out some pleasantly trivial topic.
"But the Empire's relic has nothing to do with the moon. If anything, quite the opposite."
"I'm afraid I don't follow."
"Think a little deeper. If it were a moon relic, why would the Church never have searched for it? These are the people who fought tooth and nail to protect their temples even as the South was being devoured—why would they take no action whatsoever?"
His point was not without merit. Where anything moon-related was concerned, the Church moved without hesitation. And now that the Saintess had appeared, the fact that they still paid the relics no mind surely meant something. I thought it over for a moment—then swallowed a dry breath as a certain word drifted across my mind.
...Surely not.
"If it's connected to the Evil Dragon... then no one would go looking for it."
"Precisely. That is what the Empire's relic is. Because it is bound to the Evil Dragon, it was never used, however great its power."
The notion that a relic might be tied to the Evil Dragon had never once crossed my mind until now, so I could only listen to Keitel's words in a daze. Then did that mean the Moonstone I had used was also a relic of the Evil Dragon? If my regression had drawn upon the Evil Dragon's power, then why on earth had the Evil Dragon created such relics in the first place?
Before that question could settle, Keitel pressed a finger to a section of the map and carried on.
"I intend to make use of the Evil Dragon's malice. Control it, rein it in, and it could be turned to profitable ends. We're still at the experimental stage, but if you bring back even a single relic, I suspect we could put it to far more serious use."
"And if I bring back the relic, what happens then?"
"What happens? You do as I command."
He let the silence sit for a moment. Then Keitel added with a faint smile,
"Sir Taylor—shall I address you that way, when the time comes?"
That the relic was tied to the Evil Dragon sat a little uneasily with me, but there seemed no pressing need to dwell on it. If the Moonstone's regression truly involved the Evil Dragon, surely I would have felt its influence long before now.
Setting that aside, the day's harvest was undeniable: I had forged a point of contact with the Crown Prince. The humiliation of bending a knee was nothing at all. For now, the Crown Prince would likely take it in good stead that the young lord of Taylor had bowed his head so readily before him. But once the situation was reversed, there would be no bowing before Keitel ever again.
I had finished my business and was on my way out when a figure standing in the corridor caught my eye. The clothes were the same as before, so I recognized her at once. At my slight bow, Mirajane came toward me with a bright smile.
"Sounds like your talk is finished. I was just passing through—who'd have thought we'd run into each other by chance like this?"
"Is it truly chance?"
"It is. You don't honestly think I'd wait around here until your meeting ended, do you?"
Knowing Mirajane, it was entirely possible, but I only shrugged and started walking. Perhaps because my conversation with the Crown Prince had run long, the sky had gone completely dark without my noticing. The streets were still bright with lanterns, but there was surely no time left for anything else. Mirajane seemed to grasp that as well, for she didn't repeat what she'd said earlier. She was the type to do anything she thought would benefit her—but even she, presumably, had no wish for rumors of keeping company with a man late into the night.
And so we walked for quite some time. She had little to say, and neither did I, so only silence flowed between us. Then, apparently grown bored of the quiet, her elbow nudged my side.
"Why aren't you saying anything? You're making this awkward for no reason. Don't tell me you got a scolding from His Highness back there?"
"Nothing of the sort. But what could I possibly say to Your Highness the Princess? The gap in our stations is rather clear for idle chatter."
"Ugh. Do I look like someone who cares about that sort of thing?"
"...No. You don't."
Given the right company, she would probably chatter away with commoners too. It was precisely why she and Adrian had grown close—Mirajane thoroughly despised that kind of formality. Even so, I preferred to keep the line drawn. There were more than enough question marks where Mirajane was concerned.
"You could simply call me by my name. There's no one around now. Come, how about trying 'Mirajane'?"
"I'll call you Her Highness, as befits. This is only our second meeting, after all."
"You're friends with Adrian, aren't you? I'm not so cold to a friend's friend."
How could a person fail to change at all? Naturally, there was no reason for Mirajane at this point in time to be any different, but the sight of her falling into easy familiarity as though it were the most natural thing in the world never failed to tangle my feelings into something strange. Our first meeting had been at the Moon Tower; this was the second. It wouldn't have been strange for things to be awkward—stiff, even—and yet as she kept drifting closer, I kept slipping a little farther away. It was easier with Adrian or Adele. When someone approached this openly, they couldn't be brushed off lightly. I let out a small sigh and spoke.
"I should be going. It's late—you ought to head in first."
"...We're not even at the main gate yet?"
"It would hardly do to set a precedent of the Princess seeing a man all the way to his gate, would it? I don't mind myself, but someone might seize on it and cry breach of propriety."
She took my words as concern for her yet again; she held my gaze for a moment, then gave a small nod. But she couldn't quite keep the corners of her mouth from twitching, and at the sight of it, I laughed shortly, utterly dumbfounded. I knew she took an interest in me. But it was no woman's fondness, so there was no reason to think too deeply about it.
We walked on for a good while longer, and at last—deciding she had followed me far enough, perhaps—Mirajane came to a stop. Then she patted her chest, drew out the artifact, the twin of the one she'd given me last time, and held it up as she added,
"Keep that with you. Next time, I may have questions of my own. Adrian might call for you, and I could pass the word along in her place—so don't go ignoring it."
"Why would I ignore it? Whenever you have need of me, I'll answer. Only... I would ask that you refrain from saying anything too troubling."
"W-what troubling things?"
"If the word lover ever crosses your lips again, it puts me in an impossible position. The Saintess might get the wrong idea, don't you think?"
Mirajane waved a hand as if to say don't worry about it, then quietly bade me farewell and told me to be on my way. I turned from that beaming face and looked back to see the Princess receding into the distance, as though to say she truly wouldn't follow this time. Well then—time to go. There was plenty waiting for me back at the ducal residence. Was it not about time to begin laying groundwork within the servants' households as well? Once this business was finished, it would be as well to make ready for a journey to the North.
The North first—and after that, the South once more. Only when I returned from the South would what might properly be called my own power be complete, and only then would my preparations to cast Yuria down be finished. So I walked on for a long while, until the sound of a carriage in the distance made me lift my head. The crest emblazoned on the carriage drawn up nearby was one I knew all too well. I stared blankly at the Taylor crest for a moment, then caught sight of the woman stepping down from it and could not suppress a wry laugh. The reason our Young Matriarch had deigned to process all the way out here was written plainly across her face.
"...Robert. You haven't disgraced yourself, I trust."
"I hadn't realized you'd come out to see me off. Were you worried about me, perhaps?"
At my jab, Yuria's brow creased in displeasure. One look at that furrowed brow and her purpose in coming all this way seemed perfectly clear. She must have heard I was headed for the imperial palace. I might weave connections without her knowledge—so this was, no doubt, another move to keep me in check.
"I was worried you'd done something pathetic again. You do understand, don't you, that things aren't as they were—these days you can't simply carry on and whine like a child when something doesn't go your way?"
"Whining? That comparison is laughable."
"If you'd tried what you pulled with Mother, do you think Her Highness would have obliged you? I trust you didn't. You were a child then. You're a grown man now."
Coming at me with this attitude even after what happened last time was nothing more than a naked provocation. My expression stiffened for an instant, but Yuria only sneered at that face and went on.
"I don't know what business brought you to the palace today, but it changes nothing, no matter how diligently you scramble. Even the throne cannot formally meddle in the succession of House Taylor's headship."
"Then why did you come, my lady? Surely not to keep watch over someone as insignificant as myself?"
"I came to call on Her Highness. It seems I was mistaken about the last subjugation—so I have come to apologize for the misconduct you committed."
"...You call it misconduct?"
There were limits to foolishness. That she remained wholly captive to the notion that what I had done was wrong wrung a grimace from me. Where to begin setting her straight—whether she would even listen to a word I said—was itself in doubt. Ideally I would press her with evidence of some kind, but as things stood I had nothing to show her. And just as I was weighing the problem, the 'evidence' I needed appeared in a form I hardly expected.
"My, what a sharp tongue. Well—I suppose that's what one should expect of siblings?"
At the voice that drifted in from nowhere, I turned to find Mirajane walking toward us. I had no idea how she came to hear this conversation. If asked, she would no doubt claim she'd simply overheard in passing. But her appearance here had already tipped the scales. When I saw that the face she wore as she passed me by was utterly expressionless, I couldn't help but smile inwardly. That look was one Mirajane wore only when she was quite thoroughly angry.
"Young Matriarch of Taylor—shall I call you Lady Yuria?"
"...I don't know what this is about, but if it concerns the matter at hand, I was speaking with him first—"
"I didn't come to talk about that. Tell me—do you have some business with Lord Robert?"
"We were in the middle of family business. It will conclude shortly. Wait inside, and I will send him along presently."
It was little more than being talked over, and yet Yuria inclined her head and answered without a flicker of resentment. In that respect, at least, she was almost worthy of admiration. Unfortunately for her, her wish was not likely to be granted. With a sudden sweep, Mirajane took hold of my arm, eyes narrowed to slits as she regarded Yuria. If she had heard everything that passed between us, she had surely grasped just how hostile Yuria's words toward me had been. What Mirajane, so warmly disposed toward me, would say next was all too easy to predict.
"How unfortunate. It seems I have nothing to discuss with you today."
"...I beg your pardon?"
At that solemn, formal tone, Yuria could only stare at her, flustered. Nothing like the playful lilt she used with me—this was the Princess's public voice, known throughout the realm, and it filled the stillness around us. Yuria at last managed a reply, but Mirajane had already pulled my arm close against her side and pressed on,
with words that would breed no small misunderstanding in anyone who saw them.
"You see, I intend to borrow Lord Robert for a while. For, perhaps..."
Her eyes rolled playfully in their sockets—and when at last they stopped, the words that spilled out of her wrung a helpless laugh from me.
"...The whole day long."
I had no idea how she meant to clean up after that. She had likely just hurled out whatever came to mind. But Mirajane looked thoroughly pleased with herself for landing her blow, so what could I possibly say to it? Though, in fairness, the expression on Yuria's face as she gaped blankly after her was... rather satisfying.