Reunion? (4)

The phrase 'Children of the Emperor' was not, strictly speaking, an official designation.

By that I meant it wasn't a title that people like me, Lucas, or Jaden claimed for ourselves. Being grouped together as the Children of the Emperor didn't come with some kind of secret society crest, nor did it involve code names or any other sophisticated pretext.

Under imperial law, we were merely the emperor's sons and daughters, and our legal standing was not fundamentally different from Alice's. We were, in the most literal sense, individuals adopted by the emperor.

But however true that might have been from a legal standpoint, neither the justification of imperial authority, nor the beliefs held by the general populace, aligned with that premise.

The individuals the emperor had gathered were, every last one, creatures of monstrous capability. At times, they would even vanish from the public eye. And whenever they vanished and then returned, something, or someone, within the Empire would invariably have disappeared, died, or gone missing.

Those deaths and disappearances sometimes resembled mere accidents. At other times, they were staged to look like brutal crime scenes, as if issuing a deliberate warning. Although the Empire conducted its investigations with due diligence, such cases invariably ended without a single piece of proper evidence being found.

And so, anyone who wasn't a fool could easily infer what kind of work those monsters the emperor had collected had been carrying out. Setting aside Alice, who was overflowing with talent but spent nearly all her time within the imperial palace, the rest of those who shared no blood with the emperor were his foremost chess pieces. Pieces who, once commanded, would carry out any task cleanly and return without fail.

Of course, most commoners knew very little of this. The lower nobility might have heard rumors, but they would mostly dismiss them as coincidences. Only the high-ranking nobles, those with the capacity to gather concrete circumstantial evidence, truly feared us.

And that, in turn, was precisely what the emperor intended.

If you value your life, crawl of your own accord.

That was what the emperor wished to convey.

And that statement would, I imagined, gradually spread its way across the entirety of the Empire.

*

Well, in any case.

The looks I attracted, therefore, were mostly looks I received for being a 'princess.'

And whatever murmuring could be heard from those around me was probably because I was not a 'real princess.'

"Sylvia."

"Yes."

Alice, who had been walking slightly ahead of me, stopped in place, turned to face me, and spoke.

"Walk beside me, not behind me."

"... Understood."

At her words, I stepped forward slowly and came to stand beside Alice.

That said, I didn't maintain a distance that could be considered especially intimate. To be honest, no matter what kind of same-sex relationship it might be, walking around holding hands or with arms linked was the sort of thing that only happened in manga. Well, strictly speaking, this world was rather like one, I suppose.

Thinking back on it, physical contact between characters in the game hadn't been all that frequent. Setting aside female characters involved in a love line with the protagonist that led to a kiss scene, or the occasional reunion embrace, physical contact between the main cast had been almost nonexistent.

... Whether the developers had deliberately chosen that in order to meticulously mirror the behavior of real people, or if they had simply found it too bothersome to implement due to the limitations of the graphics and motion tech, was a question that deserved reconsideration.

"You were the one who told me to be confident. That if you were a princess, you should act with the same confidence as me."

"But, Your Highness."

"And here, it's 'Alice.' We are equals, are we not? Has no one informed you that there is no rank between students?"

For someone who claimed that, she was certainly keeping her head held high enough in front of the headmaster.

Whatever she made of my silence, Alice averted her gaze from mine and began walking forward again.

Well, since the order came from the princess, I decided to obey.

I didn't know the exact method by which academy classes were assigned. It probably wasn't done entirely at random, considering that individuals with mutual connections were grouped together in the same classes.

The thirty nobles, including the two members of the imperial family, Alice and myself, were divided into two separate classes of fifteen each. Yet just as there was no pressing need for Alice and me to be separated, Leo Grace and Claire had also been placed in the same class. The arrangement had likely been made to accommodate the fact that the two of them were siblings.

The same logic held true for the eldest son of a duchy ending up in the same class as the eldest son of a barony that was his family's vassal, or for two people engaged to each other being placed in the same class. Anyone who shared a 'mutual connection' had been arranged in such a way that those ties would not be severed. Whether the result of exactly fifteen students per class had been a coincidence, or whether the students had been selected from the beginning to produce that outcome, I couldn't say.

As a point of reference, I had already identified every student within this academy's noble classes.

One of the much-touted strengths of the Aetherna Chronicles was that a certain measure of narrative was granted even to the extra characters. Naturally, none of it was substantial enough to openly influence the main scenario. At most, it played out through skippable side quests that had absolutely no effect on the main story, or through a handful of additional dialogue lines.

Yet those very side quests would sometimes carry forward quietly behind the scenes as the series progressed. Those few lines of dialogue would continue and evolve, bit by bit, across each successive chapter of the series, and the characters in question would even appear in later installments, delivering lines that connected back to the earlier games.

To be frank, this was a series where no amount of flattery could call the graphics or motion assets good, but the reason the worldbuilding felt so vividly alive was that its myriad characters were presented as if each truly lived their own story.

The problem was that in order to obtain the Platinum medal, one had to clear every single challenge achievement in the game—all of the Bronze, Silver, and Gold medals—and part of that medal-hunting process involved completing every Named NPC's character card.

And to complete those character cards, one had no choice but to view every last line of that dialogue at least once.

To put it another way, it meant you had to track ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠down every hidden side quest and every NPC tucked away in some remote corner of every map, one by one, and speak to them all. People had a name for this: the 'NPC Marathon.'

And I was the one who wrote the guide on how to do it. Damned developers.

At least in the sequel, the convenience features had been drastically improved, so characters I'd spoken to would be marked, and I wouldn't have to go chasing after quests individually. But that didn't mean I was excused from speaking to them at all.

... In any event, NPCs with dialogue fell into three categories: characters who had unique character models and dialogue; characters who lacked a unique model but possessed a unique name; and characters who had no unique name at all and were simply labeled things like 'Sailor-uniform Girl,' 'Commoner Student,' or 'Man in a Suit.'

And every last noble-class NPC had possessed a unique character model.

It was impossible to match those clumps of polygons one-to-one to a real person's face, but hairstyles like 'purple hair buns' or 'green twintails' were not exactly common. In that sense, I was at least roughly aware of the personal narratives belonging to all the students in the noble class.

... Truth be told, as soon as my personal circumstances had stabilized, I had written down everything I recalled in a notebook. Since I'd written it all in Hangul, no one else would be able to read it.

And just before entering the academy, I had read through all of those notes for the first time in a long while.

"Just a moment! Just a moment, please!"

Just as I was about to begin the first day of the academy with Alice at my side, a somewhat flustered voice rang out from behind us.

Generally speaking, as time went on at any school, the student body would each adapt in their own ways and start arriving at staggered intervals, but in this country, very few children had ever attended anything resembling a school. Before coming to the academy, almost all nobles had been home-schooled by hired tutors, while the children of commoners—well, they were usually off working in a factory, unless they happened to be the offspring of the bourgeoisie.

And so, on that first day, the corridors were thronged with students. The fact that the area around Alice and me was, somewhat suspiciously, far less crowded was, I suspected, no mere figment of my imagination. The result, however, was that everywhere else was even more packed, and the scene around us, with a slight exaggeration, gave the impression of a human boundary line drawn in a perfect circle around us.

But there was one person trying to force her way through that boundary to reach us.

"Claire!"

No, two people. One woman, one man.

The woman was Claire, and the man was Leo. Good heavens, both of them were major players. I hadn't expected either of them—

Who was I trying to fool? I had fully expected this. Claire's gaze toward me during the entrance ceremony had been anything but casual.

And it was only from my perspective, as someone who had played ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the game, that they counted as major players. In terms of the story's background here, I was currently a far greater player than the two of them combined. Whether others acknowledged it or not, I was a princess.

"Eek!"

"..."

The moment Claire came into our line of sight, pushing through the crowd, she tripped and nearly fell flat. I blinked a couple of times at the sight.

What was this, the kind of line and action suited for a shoujo manga heroine?

Though I'd sensed it even from a distance, seeing her up close like this only strengthened the impression of absolute innocence. Unlike the Claire in the game, who had worn venomous-looking makeup, the Claire standing before me now had almost no cosmetics on her face.

And obvious as it was to state, she was beautiful—enough to stand comparison with Alice.

"Ah..."

She had stumbled, yet perhaps because she hadn't been neglecting her training, Claire managed not to fall in an undignified heap. After tottering for a second, she steadied her posture with a sharp snap.

"Y-Your Highness."

Then she immediately gave a slight bow, pressing the front of her uniform skirt lightly. Just like a noblewoman in a formal gown paying her respects to a princess.

And after receiving such a greeting, Alice—who had just claimed there was no rank between students on campus—

"Over here, as well."

—pointed a hand in my direction and spoke, without skipping a beat.

"Pardon?"

"Over here, she is also a princess."

When Claire asked again in clear confusion, Alice replied in a voice that was somewhat stiff.

I held my head from whipping toward her only through superhuman patience. Cold sweat beaded on my back from the effort of keeping my expression from collapsing on the spot.

Just a moment ago, hadn't she said there was no rank between students...?

Ah, but of course, there was no possible way Alice could know about the history between Claire and me.

And from Alice's point of view, the Claire standing before us right now might easily look like someone who had forced her way over simply to ingratiate herself with a princess.

Moreover, the odds were high that Alice, like me, was already fully familiar with every student in the noble class. In the original game, there had also been scenes where she'd naturally match the protagonist's name without having been told ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠or having overheard it.

Claire was a member of House Grace, a barony.

The family was one of the emperor's close associates, personally appointed by him and granted their own territory. As a barony, their influence was considerable, but that alone didn't make a barony the equal of a ducal house.

If one were to regard this academy as a grand ball, and consider the etiquette dictating who among the nobility could speak to whom first, Claire had made a colossal misstep right from the start.

Before anyone from a ducal or comital house had spoken to us, someone who was not even the head of a barony approached first.

And worse, she had committed the blunder of offering formal courtesies to only one of the two 'co-equal princesses' standing side by side.

"Claire...!"

Leo Grace, who had arrived a moment too late behind her, froze rigid at the sight of the scene before him.

Mm.

In the original work, he was a character famously good to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a fault. Yet for all that he was a male character, he always ranked near the very top in popularity polls. The game had a considerable female following in Japan, and his particular blend of righteousness tinged with a curiously petit-bourgeois sensibility made him a character players found easy to sympathize with.

I had been rather fond of him myself.

But...

It was precisely because he possessed that petit-bourgeois sensitivity that he must have frozen up so rigidly at the scene unfolding before him.

"..."

Silence descended upon the area.

Alice, Claire, Leo, and I, all of us.

The crowd surrounding us as well.

Not a single word was spoken.

No, seriously. What on earth was anyone supposed to do about this painfully awkward atmosphere?