If You Can't Beat Them, Join Them (1)

Thin juice ran from the bitten fruit. The crisp sound that rang out never managed to become an echo; it scattered at once into a lingering tremor in the dark.

Faint. The taste, the sound—everything. Only after she was left alone did the girl learn that loneliness, the more you chew it, leaves a bitter aftertaste that spreads and spreads.

As she turned that new sensation over in her mouth, a cluster of shadows drew near without warning. Crossing the rooftops of sleeping people as they always did, they delivered their report in clipped tones.

"Nothing further has been found, Master."

"Nothing at all?"

"Yes. All we managed to secure is that fruit and the letter."

"I see."

Lia answered briefly, then shifted her gaze to the letter. It was the only trace of that man that the operatives she'd planted in the capital's post office had managed to obtain.

Unfortunately, a special inspection had fallen on that very day, and most of the contents had been ruined. The only mercy was that what remained was enough to roughly reconstruct the rest.

"..."

The middle had been torn away, but the intent behind the letter was unmistakable. No matter how many dozens of times she read it, the conclusion she reached was always the same.

Even so, caution demanded she hear the others out as well. To firm up her own judgment, Lia turned her eyes toward her subordinates.

"What do you make of it?"

"It appears Lord Claus has been abducted and is being held at the residence of a knight who hunts our people."

"And you beside him?"

"I agree."

"Jeff?"

"I agree as well."

So that was it. Ask the entire organization and every last one of them would give the same answer.

That didn't mean the letter left no room for other readings, though. What had split opinion most of all was the phrasing at the end.

If even this ends up helping you, I'll call that a win.

"What do you suppose he means by that? Any thoughts?"

"Perhaps he's extracting enemy intelligence from the inside. The redacted middle could well be core secrets of the knight order."

"He might even have let himself be caught on purpose for that."

"Those two would be the ordinary interpretations. Any other possibilities?"

"..."

No answer came. There simply weren't any other possibilities worth considering. A few glanced toward Lia in case she had something different to offer, but she had been lost in another thought for some time already.

It was probably because of the words at the letter's close. Her gaze drifted back to the page of its own accord, and once more she mouthed the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lines she had recited more than a few dozen times.

"When I get back, let's go out again, just the two of us."

"..."

"With affection, Claus."

Truly an expression only that man would use. Even in a situation this urgent, he couldn't skip an ordinary greeting—Claus's own brand of vacant, pure-hearted simplicity.

Which was why, every time she read it, the corners of her mouth tugged upward for no good reason. It made her want to laugh. It was cute. And a little bit—just a little—she missed the way he talked, so she kept murmuring it to herself alone. When she did, she sometimes thought she could hear his voice in her head.

"Now that we've confirmed he's in the capital, we've recalled every operative assigned elsewhere. What are your orders, Master? Shall I instruct all forces to head for the capital?"

"..."

"Or shall we wait and watch for now? If he's currently pulling information from the inside, rushing in might not be—"

"..."

"Master?"

Being ignored twice was a first; Jeff tilted his head, a little flustered. But it wasn't that Lia hadn't heard him. She was simply sunk in thought, as she so often was.

Reason, or feeling. As she wrestled with it, she abruptly lifted her face to the sky. Tonight, as ever, the moon hung warped like a bite taken out of an apple, pouring its light over the world.

Standing in that twisted moonlight, resolve slowly took shape in her chest. The moment it settled into a clear form, she spoke quietly.

"We split the forces. Personnel attached to each branch will return to their bases and stand by. Only the elites from Beimesher go to the capital."

"Understood. Leave the selection of personnel to me."

"No. I'll handle it myself. Jeff, you go back to Beimesher and focus on managing the city. This affair must not sow chaos inside the organization."

"That's fair enough, but... then who will take field command of the forces deployed to the capital?"

"I will. Personally."

At that radical declaration, every operative present stood open-mouthed. The Black Lady herself, infiltrating the kingdom's capital? Things might spiral beyond anyone's control.

But once an order was given, dissent was not an option. The obedient shadows lowered their heads again and prepared to follow their master's will without fail.

Lia, for her part, had no reason to delay; she rose at once. Then something seemed to occur to her, and she turned her head toward Jeff.

"Come to think of it—I heard the White Knight has shown herself in the capital again. Is that true?"

"It is. And by all accounts she's throwing herself into public-relief work with remarkable zeal. Seems she's trying to set the kingdom's unsettled mood to rights."

"Why come back now of all times. Coincidence or inevitability—either way, it's not good news. The knight order had drawn in its claws while that woman was missing."

Besides, earth hardens firmer after rain. Having once endured the White Knight's disappearance, the Round Table would only lean on her more heavily after this.

By now those tin cans were ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠probably forging their bonds of unity all over again. The Black Lady twisted her lips and cast her gaze toward the land beyond the horizon.

"The White Knight's recent conduct has been... irregular."

"I hear she's been roaming the streets helping citizens. Like some country village chief campaigning before an election."

"That's an excessively aggressive way of putting it. Mind your tongue."

"But it's true, isn't it? Everyone's thinking the same thing."

"..."

"That the White Knight has changed."

The mood around the Round Table was heavy—despite the glad news of the White Knight's return.

No: precisely because of it. The homecoming of a hero everyone had assumed dead. And her sudden plunge into political action. Of course there was no law forbidding even the White Knight from entertaining ambitions in court, but it was unprecedented, and that alone was cause for concern.

"Cutting down monsters out on the open streets for all to see, suddenly casting herself as the people's problem-solver—none of that has ever happened before, has it?"

"And the methods, too, are nothing like the White Knight we know. Not illegal, mind you—but they walk a line so fine it feels like she's skirting right along the edge."

"Perhaps even the White Knight has learned a bit of flexibility. What's good is good, no?"

"That upright woman changing overnight like that? Of course it's impossible—and yet she almost seems like an entirely different person."

"Something must have happened while she was missing. Something big enough to shift her values at the root."

A dozen possibilities flickered through the knights' minds. After a brief silence, the powerful began their rambling debate in earnest.

"Surely she didn't strike some kind of bargain with the Black Lady. That would explain the strange behavior."

"The odds of that seem low. Still, it does appear certain she crossed paths with her at least once. Otherwise she never would have returned."

"There must have been another monumental duel, then. Steel against steel, heaven and earth overturned..."

"In any case, that's what changed her. Something she felt in that clash, no doubt."

"At a glance it almost looks like she's playing power games with Count Gramont. Word is she clashed with him the moment she came back."

"...Which is why, to speak frankly, I can't help wondering if she means to gather the kingdom's authority into her own hands."

That final remark drew every gaze in the room. Power—a word as sweet as it was dangerous. No one had imagined it would ever be paired with the White Knight.

"Let us be honest. Since His Majesty fell ill, who has been this kingdom's real power? The Round Table, of course—but the center of the Round Table was the White Knight."

"Well, she was the only shield standing between us and the northern mountains and the South Forest..."

"The reason doesn't matter. Stick to the facts. The White Knight could have become a power without limit. Her only real rival is Count Gramont."

"But that man has far too many enemies. Popular support is slipping. He's no fit for a leader."

"And the White Knight is now checking him in earnest. What exactly do you suppose that means?"

Exactly what you're thinking. Everyone at the Round Table already knew the answer. Even so, he forced the words out into the open.

"She means to seize power in earnest. That's why she's building popular support. Once Count Gramont falls, the Round Table is next. Frankly, I believe even Sir Dyke's arrest had that intent behind it."

"What nonsense is that? He turned his back on the kingdom and sided with the Black Lady—that's why—"

"That's the surface reason, yes. But strictly speaking, Sir Dyke was in the White Knight's opposition. There's ample room for suspicion."

"And the claim that he betrayed the Round Table is nothing more than the White Knight's assertion. Which means, surely..."

"...She's pruning. Clearing out the opposition inside the Round Table."

Silence claimed the Round Table once more. Thoughts raced again, but this time no one opened their mouth easily. They only watched one another's eyes, wishing they could read what lay behind them.

The first to part his lips was the old knight who ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had consistently defended the White Knight.

"The White Knight herself is not so cunning a person. Perhaps the instruction came from her house."

"But Lord Everdeen isn't the type to cling to power that hard either."

"There may be another figure we know nothing about. The White Knight has always kept her private life under strict seal, for all her fame."

"That's still nothing more than a hypothesis."

"...Let's leave it here for today. I don't see any further profit in talking this out."

For the first time, a conclusion everyone could accept. With heavy sighs, the members rose and began to return to their posts.

Sir Sobern, one of the younger knights of the Round Table, was among them. But just as he was about to pass through the castle gate, the old knight from earlier caught him by the shoulder.

"You look busy. Come to think of it, you were assigned to interrogate Sir Dyke."

"Ah—yes. Nothing useful so far, but... I'll have to persuade him somehow if I'm to hear what he has to say."

"Interrogating a comrade is never easy work. You've had a hard time of it. Incidentally—might I have a brief word with you?"

"Yes, well. That's fine."

The moment he agreed, the old knight checked their surroundings and led him somewhere out of the way. Then he fixed the young knight with a gaze so cold it made his earlier kindly tone hard to believe.

"So which side are you on? The White Knight? Count Gramont? Or a third force entirely?"

"I—pardon? What on earth are you—"

"If you haven't decided yet, then hear out a man truly loyal to the kingdom. I'll keep this between us..."

"What exactly are you trying to say? Asking a Knight of the Round Table to take sides with a particular faction—that's nothing short of sacrilege!"

Startled, Sobern raised his voice without meaning to. The old knight only pressed him harder, his tone sharpened to a blade.

"Don't play the innocent. Didn't you see the other knights' faces today? They were all weighing whether to stand with the White Knight or throw in with the opposition."

"That can't be. Everyone here gathered for the sake of the kingdom—"

"But whose kingdom that is has yet to be decided. The fracture has already begun. Sir Dyke simply noticed it first. And he made a choice that, in its own way, had its reasons."

"What...?"

"Before long this kingdom will gather under a single will. That is when all our fates will be sealed as well. When I spoke earlier of a hidden figure, it wasn't idle talk. That person is almost certainly building an independent force of their own."

"Do you have proof? And do you actually know who it is?"

"The White Knight must know. Which is why you need to act—quickly."

The old knight scanned their surroundings once more. Then, in a voice more solemn than any he had used before, he whispered to the young knight.

"Only then will you know to whom you should give your loyalty."