Beneath the Mask
The mask he wore did not cover his entire face; it only shielded his eyes and nose. The shape of his mouth exposed beneath it, his build, his posture, his voice, his hair color—no matter how one looked at him, he was undoubtedly Wilter. Trying to hide his identity with a single mask like that was a laughably shallow trick.
"Wait, wait. Filgret. Come over here for a moment."
"Yes, Princess."
Leaving Wilter where he was, I walked deeper into the room with Filgret. There, I lowered my voice and asked him.
"You said his name was Masker? That he is the new commander? That is clearly Wilter."
"Yes, that is correct. He is Wilter Grave. However, he seems to wish to be called Masker for now."
"Why is he doing that? Has he lost his mind?"
The last news I had heard of Wilter was that he had shut himself in his room after fleeing miserably from the Festival of the Sword. Had his mind become that deeply broken?
"No, after speaking with him, his judgment and intelligence remain intact. The same goes for his swordsmanship. It is just... he wishes to be treated as someone other than Wilter."
I glanced over at Wilter. He remained there without moving, waiting on one knee.
"In short, he became like that because the defeat that day was too painful to bear?"
The self-loathing of fleeing without even fighting, the honor of his family, and the pressure of the eyes around him had forced him to hide like that—beneath the literal mask of Masker.
"Indeed. It is a sort of childish tantrum."
"...What a pathetic man."
Sigh. I let out a long, heavy breath. Then, looking straight at Filgret, I spoke.
"Filgret. I am the one who entrusted you with the authority to appoint the commander of the direct unit. So I have no intention of questioning your decision. But I will confirm this just once. Are you certain that Wil... Masker is the right person to take charge of the direct unit?"
"Yes. He is a talented man. If any trouble arises, I will take full responsibility."
"Then very well. I will trust your judgment."
Strictly speaking, Wilter was also close to a victim who had been deceived by Carmel. Furthermore, the Grave family was a royalist faction. If I let them know that I accepted his return, their loyalty would only deepen. In other words, from my perspective, Wilter Grave was the most convenient person to serve as the commander of the direct unit—excluding his personal issues, of course.
"Thank you, Princess."
Filgret and I returned to where we had been standing. To Masker, who was still kneeling, I said,
"You may rise, Masker."
Masker rose easily and looked at me from behind his white mask.
"Since you are Sir Filgret's choice, there can be no mistake. Congratulations on your appointment as commander, Masker. Please continue to devote yourself to the royal family."
"I will surely do as you command, Princess Sera."
At least his voice sounded more serious than before. It was a somewhat pathetic sight, but if doing that allowed him to perform his duties, then so be it. After sending Masker away, Filgret spoke to me.
"By the way, did you say you were going on an inspection?"
"Yes. I have some business to attend to in Tenorich."
"Tenorich... I understand. I will prepare immediately."
In the past, I had visited Tenorich under Filgret's escort, pretending to be an ordinary noble lady. It was to obtain the poison to feed my father. This time, Filgret seemed to think there was an equally grave purpose. His expression grew even more solemn.
"There is no need to be so serious. I am just going to ask someone living there a few questions."
"Yes. Then I will let you know as soon as the preparations are complete."
Filgret bowed his head and left my room. It had been quite a while since I last got some fresh air outside.
The appearance of Tenorich was not much different from when I had visited before. Shady characters gathered in small groups, whispering among themselves. Well, it was only natural. A noble lady wandering fearlessly through such a slum, with only a single escort. To kidnappers or robbers, she would look like a delicious treat.
Still, the reason they did not attack immediately was probably because they knew very well what it meant to touch a noble. Unless it was a ruined noble, touching the daughter of a powerful noble could result in this entire street being wiped out. Unless I openly provoked them like before, they did not seem to have any intention of attacking. Of course, it was also because Filgret was intimidating everyone who looked our way with a terrifying aura.
Thus, without much interference, I entered the same juju shop as before. The smell of dried herbs and an unidentified musty odor assaulted my nose. The wrinkled old man seemed to remember me.
"Haha, you've come again. Did you make good use of the item you took last time? It seems so, looking at how bright your complexion is."
"My business today is of a different nature. Do you happen to know anything about this item?"
I pulled out the sketch and thrust it in front of the old man. The old man, who had been scanning the notebook with his small eyes wide, gasped in shock.
"W-Wait a minute. W-Where did you get this...?"
"You seem to know it. Tell me what it is used for."
"...I cannot do that."
"This is also for the sake of your people's wishes. If you know anything, tell me."
I had already confirmed the Kakas Tribe's maxim to this man—the words that draw out the cooperation of his people. But even so, the old man shook his head vigorously.
"No matter what, I cannot do that. That item is related to our deepest wish and our deepest taboo. Furthermore, I absolutely cannot let a Rustier know."
"Are you saying you can't tell me anything? I can compensate you as much as you want. Far more than last time."
"It is not a matter of money. I have no intention of saying anything more than that I cannot speak of it."
Hmm, so he is being uncooperative. Of course, I had kept this possibility in mind. No matter how powerful the maxim of cooperation was, it would not be absolute. From the old man's attitude, I could feel a stubborn refusal, and a hint of fear. Whatever this item was, it seemed it would not be easy to draw out his cooperation. In that case, I had no choice but to use a slightly more drastic method.
"Come to think of it, I didn't reveal my identity during my last visit, did I?"
Saying so, I pulled back the hood that had been drawn low over my face. My abundant golden hair cascaded down as if bursting free.
"My name is Sera Rustier. You must have heard of it, right? I am the princess of this country. Old man, I arrest you for the attempted assassination of His Majesty the King. Filgret, drag him out."
"What?!"
Before the old man could even grasp the situation, Filgret stepped behind the counter and grabbed him. He did not forget to first twist his arms behind his back and bind them tightly, preventing him from casting any suspicious spells.
"W-What? A princess? Princess Sera?!"
The withered old man's desperate resistance was nothing more than a mole dragged out of the ground to Filgret.
"T-Then, don't tell me, that p-poison was... mmmph, mmmph...!"
Until a gag was stuffed into his mouth and a hood was pulled over his face, the old man continued to send looks of sheer horror toward me.
"H-Heh...!"
It was only after being dragged to the Royal Palace Underground that the old man's eyes and mouth were freed. His body was still tightly bound so that he could not move an inch.
"Now, old man."
Resting my chin on my hand, I peered down at him from across the desk where he was bound. He already looked incredibly terrified.
"I already have evidence that the drug used to poison His Majesty was sold by you. Do you understand the situation you are in? I promise you, in the name of the princess, it will not be a peaceful death."
"E-Eek..."
Of course, he knew. He knew who had actually used that poison. But that was precisely why he was even more terrified.
"But I do not wish for such an unfortunate and cruel thing to happen here in the Luistier Royal Palace either. There is only one way to avoid it. You must tell me everything you know honestly."
"I-Is this the way of the Rustier people? Even if this old body dies, I cannot sell out my compatriots!"
Sigh. I let out a deep sigh and spoke.
"It seems you don't fully understand. Think carefully. If you are executed as a regicide, what do you think will happen next?"
It was not hard to imagine. An attempted assassination of the king using poison sold by a northern tribe living in the capital. Once that was revealed, what would follow... a massive purge. The northern tribes living in the capital would probably be wiped out. Of course, it wouldn't end with just the capital. The old man must have had the same thought, as the blood drained from his face. Betrayal if he spoke, betrayal if he didn't. It was a dilemma.
"Do you understand? If you truly care for your compatriots, speak to me obediently. That is the only path you can choose."
"Ugh, ugh, uuuugh..."
The old man hung his head low. Then, slowly raising his head, he stared intently at Filgret's face standing beside me.
"Y-You are the Knight Commander, aren't you? S-Surely you are loyal to the kingdom itself..."
"Do not speak to me. Focus on the Princess's interrogation."
A look of determination flashed in the old man's eyes. Then, he shouted at Filgret in a voice filled with spite.
"It was this bitch, milord! Buying the poison from me, feeding it to the king—it was all done by this damn princess!"