Chapter 17 - Turn to Ash

—Not good.

Accompanying Emilia to the Royal Castle, Ram summed up the situation in that one phrase.

First of all, Ram’s condition is not good. By her own reckoning, this is the worst she has felt in the past year. Even at the best of times her body rarely runs smoothly, but she usually keeps herself taut with willpower, forcing her baseline steady to maintain performance—and the very moment that thread slackened is now.

It seems returning to the mansion was a mistake.

After their reunion in the Empire, they hurried to bring the awakened Rem back to the mansion as quickly as possible. In their eagerness for results—thinking that accomplishing that might lead to a clue to her 'memories' returning—they rushed things. Thanks to that, they did get to see the long-awaited sight of Rem in a maid outfit at Roswaal Manor, but Ram’s own resolve slackened. Hence, this sorry state.

At a time when their whole camp needs to pull together to clear the ridiculous charges leveled against Subaru, she’s being forced to show up far from her best.

“——”

Walking solemnly down the long corridor, Ram watches the castle guards they pass along the way. Like the soldiers who came to collect Emilia from the Noble Quarter, their gazes and bearing are taut with a sense of duty; after a silent salute they let Ram and the others through and watch their backs as they go—only for her to feel, a short way past, the air shift as the corridor doors are shut. The meaning of closing doors that are customarily left open is obvious.

—Not good.

The closing of the corridor doors, the soldiers’ atmosphere more tense than usual, and above all the personal escort by the Captain of the Kingdom Knights—all point to the utmost caution. Which in turn means that, on the other side, their impression of this party has already swung heavily negative. This is the second 'not good' factor, separate from Ram’s condition.

…It kind of feels like we’re being veeeery politely locked in, doesn’t it?

—I’m surprised. Even you, Emilia, have the sensitivity to pick up on that.

As she unconsciously slowed her pace, Emilia, walking beside her, murmured under her breath. At that comment—keenly picking up on the air of the Royal Castle—Ram lifted an eyebrow lightly in reply. In response, Emilia, lowering the elegant tails of her brows, said, "You’re right," and then—

It’s like the air is all prickly—something like that. When I lived in the forest with Puck, whenever I went to the nearby village, everyone acted like this… maybe they’re reaaally scared of us.

Indeed. It seems Barusu reaaally made a mess of things.

…I wonder if Subaru and Beatrice are okay. Looks like Crusch is with them, too.

Emilia’s violet-blue eyes quivered slightly as she said that, and Ram fell silent as well. To be honest, the outlook is not good. From what they’ve been told, Miklotov McMahon, a member of the Council of Wise Men, has been murdered, the culprit is Crusch Karsten, and Subaru and Beatrice are being hunted as her accomplices. Having been bedridden with poor health, Ram knows only the barest outline of the trouble surrounding Crusch and the Divine Dragon Church, but the line that seems plausible is this: driven into a corner as a Royal Selection candidate, Crusch committed a desperate crime, and Subaru, who happened to be on the scene, covered for her out of sentiment.

And even with Beatrice along… no, that won’t do—she’s soft on Barusu. It’s Barusu’s self-control that’s lacking. He should just think about Rem and… Emilia.

As her sister, it’s complicated, but she has to acknowledge that Subaru cherishes Rem, and that has been a real salvation. Even Rem, whose 'memories' have not returned, says various things, but it’s obvious she holds special feelings for Subaru in her heart. Precisely because of that, Subaru needs to tighten his own reins and narrow down who he’s going to be kind to. That people-pleasing nature has come back to bite him—right now, of all times.

Ram, are you maybe angry?

…I’ve long thought Barusu’s fickleness is beyond help. But that’s a different matter from the suspicions being cast on him now.

Yeah, you’re right. We need to explain properly so they understand Subaru. So we’ll be ready for whatever they ask next.

For now, Emilia, please prepare about ten good things to say about Barusu.

Eh, ten? Only ten? I wonder if I can narrow it down to just ten…

As Emilia fretted for a different reason, Ram was impressed she could list as many as ten of Subaru’s good points. Timing—what else is there to praise? In any case—

—This is the moment of truth.

Looking back, it felt as though she had been facing nothing but crucibles, but setting aside such idle sentiments, Ram turned her eyes straight ahead alongside Emilia. — There, Marcos, who had stopped at the end, pushed open the door at the far wall and urged them to enter. When they passed through as bid, the many gazes and a taut, solemn air inside greeted them, and she could tell the soundless tension was mounting.

—Ram and Emilia had not been guided to the great hall, but to a council chamber within the castle used for talks among the castle’s dignitaries.

The other day, Emilia had come here together with Filore; it was said to be the room where she declared her intention to participate in the Royal Selection and witnessed the naming of her knight. Though only a few days had passed before this return visit, the treatment was utterly different, and the attitude around them was as if witnessing the escort of a criminal.

“——”

Looking over the room they had been shown into, Ram first checked the soldiers’ placement. Two on either side of the door, four along the walls, an ebony round table half-encircling the center of the room, and beyond it she could make out several figures standing by. All of them kept their swords sheathed, not even touching the hilts. — Even so, it conveyed that this setup assumed from the outset the possibility of the worst.

“How very courteous.”

It had the trappings of propriety, but it was by no means a welcome. A highborn way of cornering someone—closing the lid with a fine box and cutting off any avenue of escape with refinement. To prove as much, behind them the sound of Marcos shutting the door overlapped twice. — The point of having two doors separating the room and the corridor is to ensure that the conversations held within do not leak outside. Yet in this moment, Ram felt it spoke more strongly of isolation in the physical sense than merely of keeping the talks in this council chamber from being overheard.

“—Emilia!”

As Ram was taking the measure of the room’s mood, the person who suddenly raised her voice was a woman seated at the end of the round table—wearing a nun’s habit, with long golden hair and striking red eyes. She noisily kicked back her chair and, heedless of the surrounding stares, vaulted over the round table, then hurled herself straight into the chest of Emilia, who stood at the entrance. Emilia caught her head-on, blinking in surprise, and—

“Filore, you’re here too.”

“Of course! It’s a matter concerning you and your knight, Subaru. If something happened, I thought I had to help, so I hurried over as fast as I could!”

“Filore…”

“It’s all right! I’m with you! I mean, I have no idea what’s what right now, but there’s no way you’re in the wrong! No matter what happens, I’m on your side!”

Saying this, the woman in the nun’s habit clinging to Emilia—being called Filore made Ram recognize her as the new Royal Selection candidate who had played a part in the recent turmoil in the royal capital. Ram had heard from Rem that she had become friends with Emilia, but this was quite the attachment. With her red eyes brimming and on the verge of sniffling, her emotional state at once conveyed her genuine concern for Emilia and an anxious air that made one wonder how much she could be relied upon in this situation.

In truth, Filore’s behavior was not welcomed by those in the council chamber—the assembled members of the Council of Wise Men, several high-ranking nobles Ram knew, and the royal guards. Amid coughs and stern looks raining down, the one who called out, “Filore?” was the woman seated beside the chair Filore had just kicked away. With an unhurried tone and expression, she looked over at Filore clinging to Emilia,

“You’re startling everyone, you know. That won’t do—don’t get so carried away.”

“Carried away!? I am not carried away—if anything, I’m deeply remorseful! If I’d stuck close to Emilia, I could have been by her side to share that anxiety from the very start! The scripture even says this: ‘The salvation of one is wrought by the prayers of the many. When the Dragon’s blessing is shared with one’s neighbor, the solitary soul finds healing and shall know true salvation.’”

“Interpret it however you like, but delays to the discussion won’t leave a good impression, will they? The more you dawdle, the more it’ll only end up hurting Emilia, don’t you think?”

“Ugggh… Sakura, you idiot…!”

“Oh my, looks like I’m hated now.”

At Filore’s tearful, childlike retort, the woman called Sakura shrugged. There was quite a disparity in their poise, but Emilia gently stroked the head of the overmatched Filore, and

“Mm, thank you, Filore. You’re really, really reassuring. Please watch over me.”

“Emilia… Yes. Yes! I’ll watch over you with my eyes wide open!”

“—Well then, Lady Filore, it’s about time you returned to your seat.”

At Emilia’s words, Filore, rubbing her tearful eyes hard, nodded again and again. Then, seizing at last the chance to speak, Marcos urged her to take her seat. At that instruction, Filore reluctantly separated herself from Emilia, hurriedly set back upright the chair she had kicked over herself and sat down there, then turned her face away with a little huff from Sakura beside her. After that little episode――,

「Lady Emilia, please proceed to the central seat. As for the attendant――」
「Ram will stand behind Lady Emilia.」
「――――」
「Is there some problem?」
「No, no problem. Then, please, right this way.」

As a token of resistance, she refused only to be parted from Emilia and took her place obliquely behind Emilia, who was seated in the central witness chair. For an instant, she and Emilia traded a glance, and to those twin eyes bearing anxiety and gratitude, she responded with just a small dip of her chin.

「Lady Emilia, thank you for going to the trouble to come here.」

The one who so weightily opened was, among those seated at the semicircular round table, a bald old man wrapped in an especially striking air――Bordeaux Zergev. One of the seven seats prepared for the『Council of Wise Men』, and a hero of the Kingdom who once swung a halberd himself during the『Demi-human War』. And, known as well for the firm stance toward demi-humans born of that experience, he could be said to be about the worst possible match with Emilia.

Perhaps the overture he struck up, while paying verbal respect to Emilia, was itself a sign that what lay beneath was something altogether different. However, setting that aside, Emilia first noticed not Bordeaux himself, but that the seat to his right was empty, and――

「That’s where Mr. Miklotov would usually be sitting, right?」
「――――」
「Mr. Miklotov, is he really…?」
「It has been verified without error as fact. For the Kingdom, it is a blow as great as any. Since the royal family went into hiding, one could say there has been no calamity to rival this.」

Shaking his head slowly, Bordeaux answered thus in a hoarse, low voice. In truth, considering the role Miklotov has fulfilled until now in the Kingdom of Lugunica, all the Kingdom’s citizens could do little but nod at Bordeaux’s reply. However, it seems the impression Emilia took from that answer was different. She narrowed the eyes rimmed by her long lashes,

「…That’s all?」
「――. And by that, you mean?」
「That it’s a grave matter for the Kingdom—I of course think so. But you and the others, Mr. Bordeaux, had a long association with Mr. Miklotov, didn’t you? Then…」
「Do you believe we should be stricken with grief and shed tears? However, the Lord Miklotov we knew would hardly have desired that. He was not one to allow his own death to rot the Kingdom’s brain and permit its limbs to necrotize little by little.」
「――――」
「The way we mourn our own differs from yours. That is all.」
「…You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s really, really hard for you all too, Mr. Bordeaux.」

At that crisp reply, Emilia let out a quiet breath. Told that it was simply a difference in how one expresses grief, Emilia backed down, but Ram, watching from a step removed, formed an impression unlike kind-hearted Emilia’s.

Certainly, it was a plausible enough argument—that if one is to carry on the will of the sage who constantly worried over the Kingdom’s future, there is no time to stand still. But Ram doubted that there was truly no room at all for mourning in that.――At the very least, as matters were piling up, her suspicion toward this situation only continued to grow.

「Once more, the reason we have called Lady Emilia here――to begin the inquest regarding the doubts that have arisen about Knight Natsuki Subaru.」
「Subaru’s alleged wrongdoing, that would be…」
「Yes.――It is the suspicion that Knight Natsuki Subaru is connected to the Witch Cult, and furthermore occupies a position bearing a major role, akin to a Sin Archbishop.」

At Bordeaux’s resubmission of the suspicion, delivered in a low yet carrying voice, Ram knit her brows. Personally, she thought it a ridiculous suspicion, and as a camp they could do nothing but deny it; moreover, it was an allegation with an unclear origin to begin with. Frankly, Subaru did have the prior circumstance of having sheltered Spica, who had originally been the Sin Archbishop of Gluttony, and if probed, there were nothing but sore spots; however, the Empire should have thoroughly sealed information on that matter. So long as they required Spica’s Authority, the Empire would not wish her true identity to spread.――Therefore, it should not be something that links to suspicion of Subaru.

「I can answer that doubt clearly. Subaru is not of the Witch Cult. Subaru is my foremost knight and an irreplaceable ally.」

「That’s right, that’s right! Their bond is strong! I can say that for certain, too—mmph, mmph!」

「Filore? Let’s be a little quiet now, okay?」

Emilia answered the suspicion leveled at her with resolute composure; Filore, who egged her on, had her mouth covered by the neighboring Sakura, but the result both of them brought about was the same—the air remained unmoved. Filore’s defense that bordered on heckling, and even Emilia’s clear denial of the suspicions toward Subaru, did nothing to change the chilly fervor in the eyes upon them. Emilia herself, being the very person concerned, likely sensed it. Before the other side could speak their next words, she began, "May I?"

"To begin with, I want you to tell me why Subaru is being suspected of being with the Witch Cult. I already spoke to Marcos at the Noble Quarter, but Bordeaux and the others should know what Subaru has accomplished up to now. Even Regulus—thanks to Subaru..."

"You mean the subjugation of multiple Sin Archbishops, and of the Three Great Demon Beasts, the White Whale and the Great Rabbit? The Great Rabbit remains unconfirmed, but the others are facts corroborated by third-party testimony."

"Right? And yet—"

"—However, those very achievements are also the focus of our suspicion."

"——"

At the phrase "focus of suspicion," Emilia drew in a breath at the spark of accusation set at the heart of the discussion. It is an outrageous argument, to be sure. To claim that Subaru’s very achievements against the Witch Cult are suspect is intolerable.

"In other words, are you saying Barusu’s work has been too convenient?"

"I’m sorry, but attendants have no right to speak. Hold your tongue."

"I overstepped. I simply couldn’t believe my ears."

Sharp looks shot her way at the unnecessary line she had added, but it was Ram’s honest feeling. Even so, the other side understood that this argument was a pretext—at least as things stand, it is nothing more than groundless conjecture. Still, since they are forcing an inquest of Emilia like this, they must have further grounds. And that is—,

"I’m sorry for Ram. But what do you mean, that Subaru’s hard work is suspicious?"

"The suspicion is that all of it may have been contrived. The subjugation of multiple Sin Archbishops, and of the Three Great Demon Beasts as well—each may have been part of a stratagem to burrow deep into the Kingdom’s interior."

"That’s...!"

"You call it an outrageous claim? And yet, against the Witch Cult that has made country after country taste bitter humiliation time and again, far too many results have been achieved in just a year and a half. The same with the Three Great Demon Beasts. It is as if, by design, opportunities to distinguish himself are being handed to Knight Natsuki Subaru."

Bordeaux pressed on, piling words upon Emilia as she faltered. Seizing Bordeaux’s momentum, those filling the seats of the semicircular table nodded one after another,

"Accomplishing the slaying of the White Whale that even the Great Subjugation failed to bring down, and then, in quick succession, that Archbishop of Sloth... being able to cut down one even branded a calamity is too good to be true." "According to testimony from those involved at the time, Knight Natsuki Subaru named the date and time of the White Whale’s appearance and even preempted and foiled the Witch Cult’s schemes one after another." "I’ve heard he completely shut down that Sin Archbishop with almost no human casualties. Given the damage in past incidents caused by the Witch Cult, that’s hard to believe." "But even the Witch Cult—would they really discard someone in an important post?" "There are also stories that within the Witch Cult, the Sin Archbishops hate one another. It’s possible they used that internal conflict to their advantage—"

"—Wait!"

"——"

Into the wave of doubt that burst forth like a broken dam, Emilia’s voice forced its way. No doubt these were all points the other side had been waiting to make, but none of them was a decisive blow; they lacked the force to make the seeds of suspicion sprout. Emilia knew that as well. Thus, even as she was buffeted by the swell, not a fragment of the trust she held in her own knight, shining in her eyes, wavered.

"Everything you’ve just said sounds to me like you already decided Subaru was suspicious ahead of time, and that’s the only way you can see it. It’s true Subaru has really, really good instincts, he always finds the best way to do things, and thanks to that we’ve somehow managed against the Witch Cult, but..."

"That may be counterproductive..."

"But! Don’t look at my knight only through the Witch Cult and the Three Great Demon Beasts! At the Pleiades Watchtower, in Vollachia—no, that’s not it. Earlier still—back at the very beginning, when I was in danger here in the royal capital, Subaru saved me. With nothing to do with the Witch Cult!"

"Lady Emilia..."

Ram widened her eyes, just a touch, at Emilia, who was pleading desperately with her cheeks flushed. Emilia’s rebuttal, while her phrasing undeniably betrayed some clumsiness, squarely confronted the suspicions Bordeaux and the others had leveled. Subaru’s knack for timing—the one thing even Ram will praise—does not show itself only in situations tied to the Witch Cult. Put simply, Subaru always has good timing. That uncanny trait is not the same thing as being a Witch Cultist. Therefore—

"—Lady Emilia, we understand what you are saying. We have no intention of besmirching the honor of Knight Natsuki Subaru over something tantamount to a groundless accusation."

"...Really? In that case, fine. Then—"

"—However, a strong suspicion hangs over your knight that he is the successor to the Archbishop of Sloth. What have you to say to this?"

Ram ground her molars, reminding herself that up to this point was only a preliminary skirmish.

△▼△▼△▼△

—The successor to the Archbishop of Sloth: that was the principal suspicion placed upon Natsuki Subaru.

At that question, which came from outside anything she had expected, Emilia’s violet eyes trembled wide. Hearing it behind her, Ram too felt the confusion deepen in her pale-rose eyes.

"I heard the Archbishop of Sloth was killed by Barusu and Otto, though."

If Otto heard Ram’s take, he would probably jump in with, "Now that’s something I’d like to dispute!"—but she had no ears to lend to the straight man who wasn’t even here. Though not directly involved, Ram had still been involved indirectly in the battle with the Archbishop of Sloth. There is no question that the death of that man, the world’s most notorious Sin Archbishop, marked the beginning of Emilia’s camp’s entanglement with the Witch Cult. However, for Subaru to be suspected of a connection to that Archbishop of Sloth—

"Is that also because Barusu happened to play a conveniently active role in the subjugation of Sloth?"

"Permission to speak—"

"No, it’s fine. That’s part of it. But the main focus lies in a certain testimony."

"Testimony?"

As Emilia’s thoughts stalled, Ram prompted them to continue; Marcos moved to chide her, but Bordeaux stayed him with a hand and revealed the rest. The primary basis for suspecting Subaru was—

"—The testimony of the captive Archbishop of 'Wrath.'"

"—Sirius’s."

"That Sin Archbishop is still chained as a prisoner in the Prison Tower. She has not properly responded to our interrogations, but including during the transfer from Watergate City, she is said to have uttered it multiple times: 'The Archbishop of Sloth resides within Natsuki Subaru.'"

"————"

"At the commendation ceremony held in the royal capital... when the merits of subduing the White Whale and slaying the Archbishop of Sloth were praised, I, too, remember there being a detailed report. In it was the account that the Archbishop of Sloth was a baleful spirit that possessed others’ bodies, moving from vessel to vessel. —How about it?"

Emilia’s cheeks tightened as Bordeaux narrowed the eyes beneath his thick brows and put the question to her. It wasn’t that doubt toward Subaru had taken root within her. Rather, faced with how badly the pieces lined up against him, the rush of feeling left her unable to form words. In essence, what they were saying was that Natsuki Subaru’s body had been seized by the Archbishop of Sloth, and from that day to this, it had been someone else acting in his stead—that was the suspicion.

For Emilia, who had welcomed Subaru as her knight, that was an intolerable insult. More than anything, that suspicion, to Ram as well—

"—Utterly not worth discussing."

Without realizing it, Ram only noticed the edge in her own voice when she heard herself speak. Even knowing that, she could not rein in the feeling she poured into her next words—because that suspicion, that insult toward Subaru, was tantamount to declaring that even his nightly, frequent visits to the still-sleeping Rem had been calculated.

"I cannot believe that you of the famed Council of Wise Men would convene a setting like this on the basis of such suspicions. Before the content of the allegation, the source of the information is the problem, is it not?"

"Then, you say there is no basis in fact whatsoever, and that this is nothing more than our idle conjecture?"

"Of course. To take a Sin Archbishop’s claims at face value is madness. The captured 'Wrath' supposedly had a power that affected others’ hearts. Under that effect—"

"—Ram!"

As if doused with cold water for having let her temper flare, Ram held her breath. Looking, Emilia had risen from the witness stand and turned this way, the gaze of her well-formed beauty sharpened as she feigned anger at her rude attendant. For having made her put on such clumsy acting, and for having grown so emotional that Emilia had to admonish her, Ram was filled with self-reproach. This is no good. — The lack of reserves in her body is even affecting her state of mind. At this rate, why had she volunteered to accompany Emilia in the first place?

"Once again, I apologize for Ram. If necessary, I will order her to leave."

With Ram reflecting on herself behind her, Emilia turned back toward the semicircular table and made that proposal. The unusually severe phrasing was her way of covering for Ram’s mistake. Having the responsibility for her own conduct taken on by someone else only made Ram’s frustration grow. Emilia’s growth was something to celebrate—if only this weren’t the situation. — If only this weren’t a hearing where the conclusion had already been decided.

"—. There is no need to have her leave. Henceforth, have her refrain from speaking. If you press the matter, it is Emilia’s own conduct that will be called into question."

"...I will take it to heart. My apologies."

Even as she voiced her thanks, Ram could not help but taste bitterness at how the fact she hadn’t been asked to leave only confirmed her own suspicions. She could feel the intent here to lump Emilia and Ram together.

"Thank you for not throwing Ram out. ...In that case, let me ask as well. Because it was Sirius who said it, do you think Subaru might be the Archbishop of Sloth?"

"Of course, at first it was dismissed as nonsense. It would be foolish to take seriously the words of a captured Sin Archbishop. However, Lord Miklotov did not see it that way. He was a man of discernment who would not mistake a delusion to be cast aside for a true sign of impending calamity."

"Miklotov... ah, then, could it be—"

Emilia raised a hand to her mouth in surprise, and Ram, too, arrived at the same thought. After making preparations to depart for Priestella today, Subaru, taking Beatrice with him, had gone to keep his appointment with Miklotov, claiming there was something secret to discuss. What happened after that is unclear in detail, but it undoubtedly led to bloodshed and the current state of affairs. Perhaps the very reason Miklotov had summoned Subaru was—

"The precise purpose of the meeting was not shared even with us. However, given that Knight Natsuki Subaru was present there, and that Duchess Karsten—who aided in the subjugation of the White Whale and in the subsequent battle against Sloth—was also present, we cannot help but harbor this suspicion: — that Lord Miklotov was killed because something disadvantageous to Knight Natsuki Subaru occurred."

"That—"

"Then tell me, how are we to trust one who has himself forsaken the opportunity to explain!!"

"—!"

In that instant, Bordeaux’s booming bellow exploded, and Emilia, struck head-on by it, froze. Behind Emilia’s reaction, Ram too felt a surge of irritation at their ill-starred turns—or rather, at a situation contrived to be so. As expected, the other side had from the outset cemented grounds she could not refute, and summoned Emilia.

"—Our worst fears have come true."

From the chain of events that began with someone barging into the Noble Quarter, at least Ram and Otto had pictured the worst-case scenario back there—an unrefusable summons to the Royal Castle, and with it, the division of their faction. Whoever drew up this design had laid their threads this meticulously.

Even so, Bordeaux’s pursuit continued.

"From the scene where Lord Miklotov was slain, Knight Natsuki Subaru fled together with Duchess Karsten. According to the testimony of those present, Knight Natsuki Subaru employed an inexplicable art, sealing others’ magic, and then manipulated some 'something' unseen to the eye. This, too, is from a report received during deliberations, but the Archbishop of Sloth was said to wield invisible arms, was he not?"

"That was a spell Subaru and Beatrice devised..."

"Further, we hear that those who fall victim to the Sin Archbishop of Gluttony are erased from others’ memories, or conversely, lose their own. Yet there are accounts that Knight Natsuki Subaru remembered those who had been forgotten. Why is that?"

"Rem and Julius both were spared being left all alone because Subaru remembered them!"

"By the villainy of the Sin Archbishop of Lust, Duchess Karsten suffered a wound that will not heal. How do you explain that, though struck by the same harm, Knight Natsuki Subaru emerged unscathed? Can you?"

"No one was more bitter about that than Subaru himself!"

"Then who is Knight Natsuki Subaru, and from where did he come?! There are no records of that man anywhere prior to his proclamation at the Royal Castle as your knight! Why is that!!"

"Subaru is—!"

"—Please, stop this already!!"

Assailed by a storm of questions that even cut off her answers midway, Emilia tried to raise a voice so pained it was on the verge of tears. —In that instant, what rang out even louder through the council chamber was Filore, who had risen from her seat at the end of the room and slammed her hand on the semicircular table.

A single tear ran from those red eyes of hers, her lips trembling, quivering,

"Don't all gang up to be harsh with Emilia... The one most confused is her, and the one who most wants to talk to Subaru is her, too."

"We are not raising harsh voices without cause, either. Above all, it was a colleague of Lady Filore from the Divine Dragon Church who retrieved Lord Miklotov's remains and related in detail what had happened at the estate."

"I know that! And that Tiga was injured... but maybe that was just Tiga, who'd lost too much blood, carelessly mistaking what he saw, wasn't it?"

"That would be far too cruel to poor Tiga, you know."

"—A-anyway! I object to doing it like this! The scripture says so as well: 'Not a single soul beneath this sky is without salvation. If you look up to the heavens, the Dragon's shadow is ever there, and there equal salvation is promised to all its children'!"

Brandishing the scripture, Filore set it down as if to slap it onto the semicircular table. Her emotional rebuttal doused the discussion with cold water, but Subaru's position did not improve. And what Ram feared was the presentation of further suspicions accompanying this doubt toward Subaru. That was—

"—Whether Lady Emilia, her patron Roswaal L. Mathers, Margrave of the Western Border, as well as their camp, were in fact aware of this issue."

"——"

"If this had been concealed through collusion within the camp, then, should the suspicion that Knight Natsuki Subaru is the successor to the Archbishop of Sloth prove true, the reason for entering Lady Emilia into the Royal Selection and stacking up achievements to this day would also..."

The upshot would be that everything Emilia, Subaru, and their camp had built up since the Royal Selection began—the results of their many efforts—was a manufactured fake. Everything they had all built with blood, sweat, and tears—every last bit of it—

"—Emilia?"

Suddenly, as Ram clenched her fist tight, a dopey voice hit her ears. It was Filore's, still pressing the scripture down against the semicircular table, her round eyes opened wide. She blinked her big eyes and, dumbfounded, stared into the middle of the room. Drawn by that, Ram looked that way as well—at the witness stand. She looked at Emilia standing there.

She had been told something that could well have plunged her sight into pitch black. The ground beneath her feet had given way, and she had been struck by a despair that made her lose any sense of where she stood. Swept along by a storm of absurdity and injustice, it would not have been strange for her to cry and scream.

But—

"—My name is Emilia. Just Emilia. The Witch of Glaciation, of the Elior Forest."

So declared Emilia, still standing at the witness stand, pointing her raised finger toward the sky. It was a pose Ram had seen many times before—the one that recklessly foolhardy boy struck whenever he was about to say, and start doing, the stupidest thing in the world.

"It's not the first time I've been looked at with those eyes of yours. Time and again, I've felt those looks, sunk down, then, heave-ho, I've lifted my head again."

"——"

"So even if we're back to square one, it's no big deal. I—we—won't lose."

"Lady Emilia..."

"We won't lose, we won't. —Right, Ram!"

Still pointing her finger at the heavens, Emilia called out without looking back. Her not turning around to make sure was, annoyingly, nothing but a sign of trust. Emilia was utterly convinced of what Ram would answer, and what kind of face Ram would be making. That was why. That was why she did not look back. Ram had to live up to that trust.

It was Ram herself who had volunteered to accompany Emilia. Pushing aside everyone here who wanted to answer Emilia's trust, Ram would do it—herself.

"—Hah! Of course."

To meet that trust, Ram brought her own expression and voice into line. Boldly and with dignity, spirited and poised—in the Ram-like manner Emilia believed in—so that from behind she could support Emilia, who was gritting her teeth not to lose to any hardship.

"Behold, you fools."

There is no way this Emilia could have been made by walking atop neatly paved, guaranteed, deceitful achievements.

Fools who harbor doubts—be burned, all of you, and turn to ash. Perhaps I should gouge out those prying eyes and, in their place, stuff them with glass beads.

It is this radiance, forged by crying, screaming, and shedding blood and sweat, that is the regal caliber Emilia has most certainly won through her own earnestness.

"——"

No one could reply right away. Mockery, suspicion, even righteous-sounding pursuit—all of them, for that one instant, lost their place before Emilia’s declaration.

"—Messenger! A messenger!"

The heated silence that had ruled the council chamber, born of the out-of-place remark shown by the mistress-and-retainer pair of Emilia and Ram, was cleaved apart by the shout of a soldier who came rushing in. Stationed by the entrance and having observed the inquiry thus far, Marcos stepped in front of the soldier who had burst in and barked, "Fool!"

"We are in the middle of an important inquiry! What were you thinking!"

"My apologies! But there is something I must report at once!"

"At once? What is it?"

At the appeal of the soldier, colored by impatience, Marcos turned his body and lent an ear. Hearing the soldier’s lowered voice, a deep crease formed between Marcos’s brows, and a heavy murmur escaped him: "I see." Catching that murmur and the ring of understanding in it, Ram narrowed her eyes. And then—

"Captain Marcos, what has happened? Is it related to the inquiry?"

At Bordeaux’s question, Marcos turned back and cast a glance toward Emilia. Then he slowly shook the head mounted atop his massive frame from side to side.

"It is not unrelated."

"In that case, let us hear it. For a soldier to be so flustered is no ordinary matter."

"—The members of Lady Emilia’s camp who remained at the Noble Quarter exploited a gap in the watch and left the residence. There are no injuries among the soldiers who moved to stop them, but we are currently in pursuit."

"What…"

At Marcos’s low-voiced report, Bordeaux brought a hand to his mouth. Then the gaunt, wise elder let out a sigh like a lament and looked at Emilia.

"While their mistress pleads her case in the Royal Castle, her subordinates have gone so far as to deceive the eyes of the Kingdom. To interpret this favorably would be rather difficult."

"I don’t think so. If everyone did that, then it means everyone thought that was the best thing to do."

"Regrettable as it is, I cannot possibly accept that answer. Including the suspicions concerning Knight Natsuki Subaru, we will have Lady Emilia remain within the castle."

Ram ground her teeth at Bordeaux, who let only his words show any regret as he gave that order. His dislike of demi-humans was a famous fact, but it was hard to believe he would move so forcefully to exclude Emilia the moment Miklotov, regarded as a moderate, was gone. For things to be arranged so smoothly—perhaps even Miklotov’s death itself—… In any case, his display of regret was nothing but a sham.

From the very start, the outcome of this inquiry had no doubt been set to end like this. And that is why—

"—Rem, make sure to crack the whip on Garf and Otto. I’m counting on you."

It was a parting made with the resolve that, with Emilia and Ram confined and unable to move, there was nothing for it but to entrust what they could not do to Rem and the others they had left behind.

△▼△▼△▼△

"—Emilia, sis!"

"Felt?"

They were in the midst of being led out from the council chamber where the inquiry had been held and moved to another room within the castle. With quick, pattering steps and a frantic look on her face, the one who rushed up to Emilia was one of her fellow Royal Selection candidates, Felt.

Having run up to stand before Emilia, Felt glared in turn at the Kingdom soldiers who stood to box her in front and back.

"Hey, what the hell’s goin’ on here? You’re treatin’ sis like she’s some kinda criminal. We’re Royal Selection candidates, y’know. You think you can pull a stunt like this?"

"Felt, it’s fine! I’m okay with—well, I’m really, really not okay with it, but I’m sort of, kind of accepting it."

"The hell’s that supposed to mean! There ain’t no kinda or sorta to accepting! You either do it or you don’t! If you don’t, then you don’t!"

At Felt, who bared her fury so fiercely, Emilia’s eyes went wide, then her brows drooped. It made her happy that Felt was getting angry in her stead. She almost wanted to hug her, but if she did, they might think she was trying to take Felt hostage, so she held herself back.

"Lady Felt, we are very grateful for your concern, but as for Lady Emilia, she gave those inside a good piece of her mind, so please be at ease."

"Gave ’em a piece of her mind… Ah, yeah, that figures. There’s no way sis would just take it lying down and let it end there. …Don’t tell me that’s why she got nabbed."

"No, that’s not it. But there’s nothing we can do right this minute."

"…This is about big sis Crusch and big bro Subaru, isn’t it."

After nodding to Ram’s reply, Emilia nodded back at Felt, who had clicked her tongue like that. It seemed word of Subaru and the others had reached her ears as well. But, come to think of it, today they were supposed to borrow none other than Reinhard’s strength to hurry to Priestella. Given that promise, if neither Emilia’s group nor Filore’s showed up, it was only natural that Felt would worry something had happened.

"That long-bearded old geezer getting killed is one thing, but accusing bro and the others of being the culprits? That’s taking the joke too far."

"Felt, do you think so too?"

"Damn right I do. I’ve owed bro since the time that guts-loving crazy woman came after me. And in Priestella we saw the real Sin Archbishops, and even escorted ‘Wrath,’ you know? There’s no way in hell bro’s in league with those insane bastards."

—

At Felt’s unwavering answer, Emilia once again had to fight the urge to hug that small body tight. But yes. That’s right. It wasn’t just Emilia and the allies in her camp. Like this, Felt from another camp—and surely others too—understood properly.

Just how hardworking and earnest Natsuki Subaru is—surely everyone does.

"—Emilia! I’m coming too! I’ll get locked up together with you!"

Just then, the sound of the council chamber door flying open and a girl’s voice bursting out rang through the room. Startled, Emilia and the others turned, and what came running toward them with her hair all over the place, half in tears, was Filore. With that same momentum, she dove headlong into Emilia’s chest,

"Th-th-th—that kind of one-sided inquisition can’t stand! I shall lodge a protest! I will! I’ve become a Royal Selection candidate, after all! Authority! Yes, I’ll use all the authority I possess to abolish the unjust treatment of Emilia…!"

"C-calm down, Filore. You mustn’t do that. I’m really, really happy you feel that way, but if you do, it’ll cause trouble for you too."

"If we can’t shoulder the mud together, what kind of friends are we!? I don’t mind getting all muddy if it’s with Emilia!"

Throwing her head up from within Emilia’s arms, Filore declared it without hesitation. Blinkingly overwhelmed by her force, Emilia felt a powerful swell of emotion welling up. She’d just managed to hold herself back from hugging Felt, but with Filore coming flying at her like this, her restraint was ruined. And as Emilia held her tight, Filore went "Ah," noticing Felt right beside them, scratching her head.

Come to think of it, the relationship between these two should be very complicated. Really, Emilia ought to mediate between them, but—

"—Don’t worry about it, big sis Emilia. For now, just rack your brain over bro and the others. You don’t gotta shoulder my problems too."

"Y-y-yes, I think that’s best. I was just about to say the same. Somehow, we’re on the same wavelength!"

"Well, we might end up scrapping twice over a seat there’s only one of, you know? Whether we get along or not, we’ve at least got some kind of tie between us."

Winking one eye and looking Filore over with curiosity, Felt drew a flustered look in return as Filore clung to Emilia and stared back at Felt. This matter between the two of them, and of course Subaru and Crusch, and also Otto and the others who supposedly ran out of the Noble Quarter—worries, nothing but worries.

"I want to believe everyone will be all right, but…"

"—Indeed. Lady Felt, if I may, a consultation."

"Huh? What is it, maid lady?"

"A moment ago, you said you owed Barusu a debt, did you not? Might you repay it sooner rather than later?"

"Huh?"

At Ram’s words, Felt raised one eyebrow, twisting her cheek in interest. At Felt’s reaction and Ram’s demeanor, Emilia realized, "Could it be…?" If they were talking about returning the favor to Subaru, then—

"—Is the Sword Saint with you today?"

"Yeah, figured that’s where this was going. In a situation this damn creepy, I can’t just sit on my hands either, and I’d love to loan him out… is what I’d like to say, but—"

"…That sounds difficult?"

"Nah. He got summoned to another part of the castle on a different matter. Me too, actually."

Scratching her head roughly, Felt answered, and Emilia exchanged a look with Ram. Then, timidly, Filore—still nestled in Emilia’s arms—tilted her head,

"You too… you were summoned as well? Not just because you were worried about Emilia?"

"I’m saying it ain’t just worry. Sorry ’bout that."

"That’s not bad at all, but—a summons…?"

「—Me too. They're sticking me in that room.」

With that, Felt jerked her chin toward the room Filore had burst out of—the same council chamber where Emilia had undergone her hearing. Looking around, Emilia and the others, halted in the corridor, were surrounded not only by soldiers to escort Emilia and Ram, but also by soldiers assigned to guide Felt. It might not be the same circumstances as when Emilia and the others were taken away by Knight Commander Marcos, but—

「Whether it's a dragon or a witch—either way, I've got a bad feeling, yeah?」

That smile so typical of Felt failed to give Emilia the same sense of reassurance as before, and that, for no good reason, left her intensely frustrated.

△▼△▼△▼△

At around the same time, Reinhard van Astrea, summoned to another room in the Royal Castle, was looking down at a map of the royal capital spread out on the table.

「——」

The piece placed at the center of the map indicated the Noble Quarter, situated in the noble district. From there, along the several routes stretching out toward the outskirts of the noble district, red marks had been set. Familiar as the plan of the royal capital was, it had now turned into a cold diagram showing escape routes and lines of encirclement. And what that meant was—

「It is inferred that the remnants of Lady Emilia's camp, having departed the Noble Quarter, are plotting to slip through the surveillance net and escape beyond the noble district.」

The one who made that report was a civil official sent as an emissary of the Council of Wise Men. With a face and tone that betrayed no emotion, his demeanor wholly devoted to fulfilling the role he had been given, Reinhard made no comment; he merely listened to the reason he had been called.

「——」

「These individuals’ objective is presumed to be to link up with Knight Natsuki Subaru, or to prepare for the recovery of Lady Emilia, who remains within the castle. Of course, at present this is no more than conjecture, but the fact that they slipped out of the Noble Quarter, which was under surveillance, under cover of a fire commotion is grave.」

「A fire?」

「There was reportedly smoke rising from beneath the kitchen floor. No spread of actual flames was confirmed, and it seems most of the smoke was due to a blocked chimney cutting off ventilation.」

「I see.」

After explaining how the guards on watch had been deceived, the civil official flipped through the written orders in his hand. He alternated his gaze between those and the map on the table,

「We are conducting a pursuit, but the individuals in question possess extraordinary ability. If we rush to subdue them, there is a risk of casualties both among our soldiers and among the targets. Therefore—」

「—the order falls to me.」

「Yes. Sword Saint Reinhard van Astrea, a directive has been issued to charge you with their pursuit and capture. Here.」

And the written order he handed over set forth, word for word, exactly what the official had just conveyed, making the rigidity of their thorough posture plain.

「——」

Ordinarily, Reinhard would have accepted the order’s contents at a glance and moved at once. This time, however, the Sword Saint’s reply came a beat late. That was not unrelated to the presence of his liege who had come to the Royal Castle along with him—

「—Valga Cromwell.」

Suddenly, the name the official uttered lowered the air in the cramped room by a notch.

「——」

He spoke only the name and nothing more, and Reinhard, for his part, voiced no question to probe its meaning. After a brief silence, Reinhard folded the order and handed it back to the official. And then—

「—Understood.」

With only that, Reinhard took his eyes off both the map and the official. As he turned on his heel, the official added a single remark to his back.

「The targets are to be captured.」

「I’ll stop them.」

Leaving only that one line behind, the Sword Saint left the small conference room of the Royal Castle.