I'm Not a Spy Though
Serian Elhardt could feel every noble eye in the room even though none of them dared stare directly at her. They clustered in threes and fives, stealing glances and whispering behind their hands. She was certain every murmur was another slice of slander aimed at her. The “I’m the crazy bitch of the banquet hall” operation was proceeding without a hitch.
Heh heh heh. Most satisfactory.
Everything was going exactly as she had planned. Serian took another pleased sip of her iced chocolate. Yet—
…This still isn’t enough.
Appearing in a decadent dress, cutting down even the heirs of the Five Great Houses with zero politeness—those parts had gone well. But would it be enough to earn her an actual dismissal? The title of hero was far heavier than she had anticipated. A few rumors of arrogance and a tarnished social reputation would never be enough for the Emperor or the military to cast her aside. At best they would simply say, “She gained fame and her original haughty personality has resurfaced,” or “So the rumors were true—mages really do get stranger the more genius they are.” Her legend would only grow.
…I need a decisive blow.
She needed something that would shatter this tiresome banquet and the shackles of “hero” in a single strike—something far more certain and powerful. Just as she lifted her glass again with that thought, a shadow fell across her.
Serian looked up, visibly annoyed. The man wore the uniform of an imperial attendant. His face was perfectly blank, devoid of flattery or curiosity. In the noisy banquet hall he seemed like the only colorless thing present.
“You are Lady Serian Elhardt, the Empire’s Flash, correct?”
His pronunciation was mechanically precise.
Who is this guy? So annoying.
Serian reflexively prepared her iciest mask. But the man gave her no chance to answer.
“Her Highness Lilliana is looking for you.”
The cold refusal Serian had been about to spit out froze in her throat.
Lilliana…?
The name wasn’t unfamiliar. She had definitely heard it somewhere. Right before coming to the imperial banquet, Ella had mentioned it.
—I heard that the Seventh Princess, who never attends outside functions, is making a special appearance just for you.
The Seventh Princess… Lilliana?
A cunning light flashed through Serian’s previously empty blue eyes.
Serian followed the man across the banquet hall.
It’s here—my decisive blow!
Her heart beat with anticipation.
The Seventh Princess Lilliana. A girl so frail she rarely appeared in public, yet the Emperor cherished her so deeply it was said he would feel no pain even if he plucked out his own eyes. The Emperor’s sorest finger. The Empire’s most fragile jewel. If she openly disrespected someone like that?
This would go far beyond a mere social reputation problem. It would be a direct challenge to imperial authority—an ideal chance to earn the Emperor’s genuine fury.
Good. This time I’ll finish it cleanly.
A faint smile no one could detect curved the corner of her mouth.
They soon arrived at the table where the princess waited. It was a relatively quiet, secluded corner near the terrace, away from the noisy center of the hall. At the center of the table, just as rumor described, sat a pale and delicate girl—Seventh Princess Lilliana. Beside her was a middle-aged man in a dark scholarly robe.
That man is…
Marquis Edan, Director of the Imperial Academy and the princess’s tutor. His trademark curled mustache, meticulously waxed at both ends, immediately caught Serian’s eye.
The princess’s tutor, huh… Perfect. Let’s start with an appetizer before the main course.
The moment the princess noticed Serian and shyly began to open her mouth, cheeks flushing—
Serian didn’t spare her a single glance. Instead she fixed her gaze straight on Marquis Edan.
“My, my.”
Her clear voice instantly gathered every eye in the vicinity.
“It seems Her Highness has acquired a new clown to keep by her side.”
She tilted her head and continued.
“That magnificent mustache suggests truly exceptional talent. Would you care to give us a performance?”
For a moment the entire banquet hall fell into a silence so absolute it felt as if ice water had been poured over everyone. The Director of the Imperial Academy, the princess’s beloved tutor who enjoyed the Emperor’s favor… and she had just hurled that horrific insult at him? Everyone held their breath in shock. Though they pretended not to look, every gaze was riveted on Marquis Edan. It would have been perfectly natural for him to tremble with humiliation and shoot to his feet.
Yet Marquis Edan’s reaction was completely unexpected.
He froze for a brief second, then burst into a kindly laugh.
“Hohoho. It seems the Empire’s Flash possesses a sense of humor as outstanding as her reputation.”
His hearty laughter instantly dissolved the taut tension that had gripped the hall. However, cold sweat was running down his back despite that benevolent smile.
Damn it, how did she see through me?
In truth, he was not Marquis Edan. His real identity was Valerius, senior operative of the Salad Liberation Front. He had once been the last heir of House Valerius, the assassination nobles of the fallen Salad Kingdom. Born into a family that had served as the royal family’s shadow for generations, he had displayed a genius for erasing his presence and mimicking others from the moment he drew breath.
But the Empire’s invasion had reduced everything to ashes. The family that lived hidden as the royal shadow was exposed; his entire clan was burned alive before his eyes. Surviving on nothing but vengeance, he had joined the Salad Liberation Front. His disguise technique went beyond mere appearance—he could perfectly copy a target’s aura, habits, and even the flow of their mana. With that flawless camouflage he had infiltrated the Empire’s heart, silently eliminating countless powerful figures and rising to become a core member of the organization. No one had ever seen his true face. To the imperial intelligence bureau he was nothing more than a ghost whose name had never been recorded.
And yet this young lady had instantly called his disguise a “clown” and provoked him.
Did she read my killing intent? No, I hid it perfectly…
But Valerius soon realized something was off. If she had truly seen through him completely, there would have been no need for such an ambiguous warning. She could simply have summoned the imperial guards stationed throughout the hall and had him arrested on the spot. Perhaps he had simply overreacted. Yes, it might have been nothing more than an arrogant joke from a spoiled noble girl.
Having reached that conclusion, he looked at Serian again.
And then—
She was still staring straight at him.
Of course, Serian was simply staring at his mustache with zero deeper thought.
Wow, that mustache is hilarious.
It was the purest, most innocent admiration. To Valerius, however, that gaze looked entirely different—an emotionless stare that seemed to pierce through everything. No! This was no misunderstanding. His identity had definitely been exposed!
…Then why?
Why wasn’t she denouncing him immediately? Did she have some purpose in mind? Valerius’s mind spun with confusion.
At that moment Princess Lilliana spoke to Serian in a timid voice. Her sky-blue eyes sparkled with admiration.
“Um, Lady Elhardt… if it’s not too much trouble… could you tell me just a little about what happened at Silver Horn Fortress…?”
Here it comes!
Serian cheered inwardly. As if she had been waiting for exactly this, she rested her chin on her hand with a languid expression and looked at the princess.
“Your Highness.”
Serian’s voice was cold and dry.
“Do you really find such trivial stories interesting?”
Clink.
Without waiting for an answer she stirred the ice in her glass with her straw. At that utterly indifferent, freezing reply, the princess’s pale face flushed bright red in an instant.
“Ah… I-I see…”
Raised with the Emperor’s favor, she had never once experienced such blatant disregard and contempt. The girl who had just been rejected by her own idol hung her head, looking as if she might burst into tears at any moment.
All around them, murmurs of shock and anger erupted once more—“How rude!”—but Valerius, who had been watching the entire scene, was struck by an entirely different kind of shock.
…I see!
The words she had just spoken were not directed at the princess. They were a coded message meant for him—Valerius. By dismissing the Empire’s greatest victory at Silver Horn Fortress as a “trivial story,” she was saying it had all been staged.
Yes! That battle had been nothing but theater! This woman was no hero of the Empire—she was a high-ranking spy planted in the Empire’s heart by the Astra Empire!
That also explained why she had pretended not to recognize him even though she knew his identity. The Salad Liberation Front had a secret pact with the Astra Empire: if the Grandia Empire fell, Salad’s independence would be guaranteed.
Valerius decided to test her one last time. Wearing the gentle mask of a kindly tutor, he spoke carefully.
“Hohoho. Even the Empire’s Flash seems quite weary of this terrible war.”
He tilted his glass lightly and offered a soft smile.
“I can hardly imagine how harsh the battlefield must have been for you, my lady… but please do not be too hard on yourself.”
Though it appeared to be addressed to Serian, it was actually a smokescreen for the surrounding eyes. After naturally creating a context of consolation, Valerius added the final phrase.
“Even in the barren desert, the rose blooms again.”
—Even in the barren desert, the rose blooms again.
It was an old cherished wish of the Salad Liberation Front and the passphrase used to confirm each other’s identities. Now only her reply remained.
Valerius’s heart trembled faintly.
Of course, to Serian it simply sounded like some pretentious nonsense from a creepy old man with a curled mustache.
What is this guy even saying? Acting all poetic.
Hmm. Better ignore him. Ignore.
Serian immediately erased his existence from her mind and lifted her glass. She put her lips to the straw—
Slurp.
Only lukewarm, flavorless water came up.
Serian’s brows furrowed slightly.
“……Ah, the ice has all melted.”
It was a short, muttered complaint—nothing more than the trivial dissatisfaction of an iced chocolate whose ice had melted and ruined the taste.
But in that instant, a shiver ran through Valerius’s entire body.
The ice… has all melted?
Could there be a more perfect reply?
Ice. The Grandia Empire that had risen from the frozen north and swallowed the continent. Though its territory now stretched across the entire land, the emblem on their flag was still a sharp ice crystal that refused to forget its origins. That ice was melting.
It was a coded message of hope announcing that the Empire’s fall was near.
Valerius suppressed the surge of emotion and brought his teacup to his lips. His trembling gaze turned toward the silver-haired girl who was absently stirring the ice in her glass.
To think a comrade had been planted so deep inside the Empire’s core. His heart felt utterly reassured. The independence of his homeland, the Kingdom of Salad, could not be far off now.