"—How could we make an escape from the castle work?"
If it had been said in a faint, mosquito-buzz of a voice, Heinkel would have taken it as a weak complaint from Filore, tired of being continually browbeaten. Always putting her whole heart into everything—even she must have moments of weakness—he might even have felt relieved. But—
"Sorry. Say that again."
"I said! How could we make an escape from the castle work?"
"—So I didn't mishear..."
Her red eyes had lost none of their force, and there was strength in her voice; nothing about Filore's whole bearing suggested the frailty of someone broken by hardship. She did at least seem aware this was something no one should overhear—she kept her voice down—but she couldn't hide the defiance brimming in those eyes and that tone. Where had the meekness she'd shown to Tiga and the others just a moment ago gone?
"Why, to make the two of them let their guard down, of course. If I brought this up, neither Tiga nor Sakura would give me a proper hearing."
"Then the same goes for me, doesn't it? Why assume I'd listen...?"
"Because you're my knight, Lord Heinkel, aren't you? You're on my side, not the Dragon Church's! ...Right?"
"You don't confide something like that to someone who makes you anxious even while you're saying it."
As Filore tilted her head while saying this, Heinkel scratched his head roughly. It was a ridiculous topic to take seriously, but he could tell she'd thought it through in her own way. If he cut her off before she finished getting it out of her system, who knew what reckless thing she might start on her own. Better to humor her and let her vent the poison.
"First off, about this escape... in short, the ones you want to get out are Miss Felt and Lady Emilia, right?"
"Huh? Yes, that's right! I was sure Lord Heinkel was going to betray me, and my heart was pounding. But if Lord Heinkel is on board too, then we've got nothing to fear!"
"—And? What kind of plan are you thinking of?"
He had no intention of going along with such nonsense, but he held his tongue and urged her on. In the short time he'd been dealing with Filore, he'd learned that if he stopped to poke at every point in her remarks that snagged him, there wouldn't be enough hours in the day. Unaware of the knight's inner thoughts, Filore laughed, "Heheh, I'm glad you asked," and stealthily drew a folded sheet of paper from inside her clothes.
"Of course, I'm not just speaking on a whim. Lately I've been steadily looking into the castle in my own way."
As she spoke, Filore pushed aside the pile of replies on the desk and spread the paper out. It was a layout of the Royal Castle, recording with her own feet and eyes the sections she'd entered for worship or petitions. The areas visitors and healers could come and go, the doors only castle personnel could pass through—even to Heinkel, vice-captain of the Royal Guard Knights, the level of detail was considerable. On top of that, in the hand-drawn map she'd used different colors of ink to add notes on how many knights she saw on each visit, when the sentries changed, and other annotations on the security net. —It was the result of an espionage effort assembled more meticulously than Heinkel had imagined, one for which there could be no excuse.
"You—this...!"
"Well? Does my seriousness come across? Incidentally, by listening in on the civil officials who bring my letters and on other castle personnel, I've also learned that Emilia and Felt are being confined in the Royal Castle's East Wing. Amazing, isn't it!"
"What the hell are you thinking!"
Shouting at Filore, who didn't understand the gravity of the situation, Heinkel snatched up the hand-drawn map and crushed it into a ball in his hand. "Ah!" Filore let out a scream, but he didn't care. If something like this were found, it would be a major incident. Proof that Filore—both a Royal Selection Candidate and a Saint of the Dragon Church—was harboring seditious intent toward the Royal Castle—and, worse still, that it was true.
"Listen, forget about this. Forget the plan itself. For starters, there's no way it would work. And even if it did, what then?"
It's a child's tantrum of a plan; its feasibility isn't even worth debating. True, Felt and Emilia are in a harsh position right now with no freedom. Filore's appeals are being blocked at every turn by the Royal Castle and the church, leaving her just as constrained. But that's all. This state of affairs can't last forever. The Royal Selection has a clear deadline, and letting the turmoil in the Royal Capital drag on would mean the loss of authority for the Council of Sages and the Royal Castle.
"That's why, for now, it's a time to keep our heads down and endure. If we do that..."
「――And what do you think that would accomplish? If we simply sit and wait for time to pass, are you saying the cloud hanging over our heads will vanish and the order of tomorrow will change？」
It was Filore’s quiet voice, piercing Heinkel as he muttered, wringing the words out while crushing a map smaller and smaller in his hand. Having, quite literally, the fruit of her efforts crushed in his fist, she nevertheless showed no pained expression, and fixed her gaze steadily on Heinkel,
「Lord Heinkel, even if we sit meekly, the sun will not rise in the west. We have to act. Prayer is a sacred and noble act, but if we choose it as both our first and last resort, even the 『Dragon』’s wings will snap under the weight.」
「――――」
「This past month and a half, I believed I was doing what I could. But if I give up here, then over that period I’ll feel as though I’d just been making excuses. Comforting myself and Emilia and the others—‘We failed, but thank you for trying your best’… as if I was doing it just to hear that. —I refuse to accept that!」
At the end, raising that last word, Filore slapped the room’s wall with her hand. There, the same splendid motif of the Kingdom’s venerated 『Divine Dragon』 is carved as in various places throughout the Royal Castle. The 『Dragon Church』 likewise worships, extols, and believes in the same as the Dragon Kingdom does.
Filore is a Royal Selection Candidate and the Church’s 『Saint』—in other words, one could even say she is recognized by both the Kingdom and the 『Dragon Church』. Yet her present resolve is, without a doubt, something that defies both.
「Do you remember, Lord Heinkel? I want to create a world where I can extend a hand to anyone who seeks salvation. If I become king, that will be my goal. Anyone—anyone at all. This part is very important.」
「――――」
「And if I, who insist on that, were not to extend a hand to Emilia and Felt, who are in dire straits now, then who could possibly believe in me? I myself could not believe in such a me. Deeds must accompany words.」
「…Do you understand what that means?」
It must feel good to voice one’s desires boldly, with nothing to be ashamed of. One might even call it heroic—provided one truly understood the meaning and value of what would be relinquished as a result.
「If you turn your back on both the castle and the Church, just what will you be? It’s because you’re a Royal Selection Candidate, a 『Saint』, that everyone lends an ear to your words.」
No matter how wretched and despicable a man he may be, because he is of the 『Sword Saint』’s bloodline, the vice-captain of the Royal Guard Knights, and the biological father of the strongest 『Sword Saint』 in history, no one can ignore him. If you let go of that, then who, exactly, will heed the words of someone who is no one—
「――We have you, Lord Heinkel.」
—Filore said it as though she had the backing of a myriad armies.
With her hand still upon the wall’s 『Dragon』 motif, she delivered to Heinkel—clad in the uniform of the Church that venerates it—a decision that might betray the very object to which she had devoted her faith all along. She did not understand how foolish a decision that was. And though she did not understand—
「…I knew it. I never should have become your knight.」
Regardless of status or of whether there was any use in it, Heinkel regretted taking Filore’s hand. Because of that, he found himself forced to listen to this utterly foolish proposal. And after being made to hear it, he found himself compelled to help a girl who had no one to rely on but him.
『――Congratulations.』
Yes—Reinhard’s words of congratulations, spoken to him in a corridor of the Royal Castle, came back to his ears. Reinhard had offered his congratulations that Heinkel had been chosen as Filore’s knight. He did not think that had been a lie or flattery. Reinhard was not the sort to play at such guile.
But is that really so? Is this something to celebrate? If being chosen as someone’s knight and deciding to entrust your sword to them is such a joyous, wonderful thing, then why do my stomach and chest ache so, and why must my heart and soul groan?
「Lord Heinkel? So, um, about what we were discussing just now…」
With Heinkel sitting before her, face covered by his palm and sunk in silence, Filore knit her words together. Timidly peeking up at him, she had likely said all she needed to say. From here, she was seeking the answer—the direction this conversation would take.
She was a girl who had written a hundred letters and been met with endless postponements. She was sick and tired of waiting. Her heart was surely impatient for a prompt answer. It was cruel to Filore, but Heinkel’s answer was—
「――Half a month.」
「Huh?」
「If you’re going to sneak into the castle, you take it more seriously—you do it properly.」
While saying that, he spread out on the desk the hand-drawn map he'd crumpled up in his hand. He smoothed out the creases with his palm and glared at the plan—no doubt put together in all seriousness by its author—riddled with holes. As it is, it's nowhere near usable.
"We need at least half a month just to prepare and refine the plan. The castle's sentries and patrol routes will be reviewed on a regular basis, too. The information Lady Filore gathered can't be used as is. You don't want to be the fool who swallows old intel whole and gets caught, do you?"
"—! Does that mean...!"
"Quit making that face. I think Lady Filore is a fool."
"Isn't that fine? Since you're willing to go along with that silly girl, Lord Heinkel, you're quite the fool yourself, aren't you? The two of us are a big, foolish master-and-servant duo!"
"A fool can't be king. It would mean throwing away both rank and honor."
At Heinkel's reply, Filore's expression brightened by the moment. She looked about to burst into a song of joy, but Heinkel once again thrust reality at her. They haven't done anything yet. Right now, they can still turn back however they like.
"The dumbest thing about this plan is that, succeed or fail, everyone's standing who gets involved will get worse. Naturally, Lady Filore would lose her status as a Royal Selection Candidate, and the Dragon Church would be suspected of having plotted treason against the Kingdom, prompting an investigation into the entire church. Tiga and Sakura would likely be hounded to spill whatever they know, too."
Of course, even within the Dragon Church there are opaque parts. I don't expect all that darkness to be exposed by a single action of Filore's, but what's needed here is credibility.
"If we move now, it'll get harder to reach out to the people we should have been able to save from here on. They'd never again grant permission to use the sacrament for the victims in Priestella. What's more, the revocation of the Saint designation would likely become real. That would be a total denial of everything Lady Filore has done so far. Even so—"
"—I'll do it."
"——"
"Even so, I will. The wish I hold didn't occur to me because I'm a Royal Selection Candidate or because I'm a Saint. And besides, even if we wait..."
"The sun doesn't rise in the west, huh."
"Exactly!"
When Filore jabbed a finger sharply at his face, he pushed her hand down and warned, "You're too loud." She hastily clapped both hands over her mouth, and he let out a sigh at the sight.
How had it come to this? He couldn't understand himself. Still, seeing Filore so fired up, Heinkel felt loath to let go of the hand he'd once taken.
—Do I still want to act the knight?
He had wondered that before, and this time again, Heinkel couldn't answer it himself.
△▼△▼△▼△
—In the half month that followed, Heinkel dredged up his memories as the vice-captain of the Royal Guard Knights—a position that had been mostly ornamental—like scraping the bottom of an old barrel.
He quietly snuck out an old interior map of the castle, kept by the Knights and marked with emergency evacuation routes, overlaid it with Filore's hand-drawn sketch, and pondered an escape route with a real chance. He accompanied Filore on her hundred-and-tenth, hundred-and-twentieth direct appeals, recorded the knights' deployment and the shift changes timed to the bell, identified the hours when the watch was thinnest, compared each knight's ability and mettle against his own memories, and chose a suitable day to act.
"Zeol's an obnoxious bastard who does nothing but flaunt his pedigree, but lately he's been entrusted with the important East Wing. ...Did he cozy up to someone?"
He was a man specialized more in wielding his status and pedigree as a knight than in swordsmanship or professional pride—in short, you could call him a lower-grade version of Heinkel. That said, in terms of abandoning and slacking off on the Knights' work, Heinkel and Zeol weren't even comparable. At the very least, Zeol did the Knights' work properly, if not exactly competently. The only reason Heinkel hadn't been expelled from the Knights was purely the power of his family name.
"Even so, I don't draw up the duty roster on the assumption someone's going to nod off."
The reason Zeol and his cronies are manning the watch on the East Wing, where Felt and Emilia—who ought to be high-priority—are confined, is because that's considered sufficient. In other words, the imprisoned Felt and the others must be being very well-behaved. Or else, they've been saddled with reasons that force them to behave. And that applies not only to Felt and the others, but in exactly the same way to Reinhard, who's toeing the Royal Castle's line and staying away from his master.
"...In the worst case, even if Lady Filore just strolls over to visit, there's a chance the other side will be the ones to brush her hand away."
If Felt and the others are submitting to their confinement because of concealed circumstances, then even if we propose a thoroughly prepared escape, they might not nod yes. In that case, the ladder wouldn’t just be pulled away—it would be as good as set ablaze beneath our feet. We’d either sit there and be engulfed in flames, or jump knowing we might fall to our deaths. Either way, death or broken bones would be inevitable. Yet with even direct, face-to-face meetings with them forbidden, it was difficult to unearth any such possibly hidden circumstances in the first place.
「I don’t want to leave something this crucial riddled with holes and make a blind gamble...」
Half a month—that was the deadline Heinkel himself had proposed; of course, if the danger to be courted grew too great, it would be only proper to extend the period. But even if an unlimited grace period were permitted, an absolutely airtight plan would never be born.
――During the half month Heinkel spent on preparations, Filore’s exertions were something to behold.
Needless to say, Filore is a girl who’s bad at lying. If she has some scheme, it shows plainly in her attitude and words, and her true feelings would be suspected at once. With Tiga and Sakura, who had long been close to her, there was worry she could never keep it hidden. However, Filore carried herself so openly and unchanged that she fooled even Heinkel, who knew the circumstances, making it so no one would realize it.
She went through her daily routines, kept submitting petitions for a hearing for the two who had been confined and for permission to administer the sacraments to the people of Priestella, never stopped writing letters or making direct appeals, and each time she was told the matter would be put on hold, she truly wept and raged and held fast to herself. It was clear that she sustained such conduct because Heinkel had set a deadline and agreed with her thinking, and she was sternly keeping herself in check.
He could not betray that trust. Just as Heinkel himself had foreseen, over the course of half a month the necessary preparations were put in place: a reason to enter the castle; a time when the layers of watch were thin; a diversion to draw eyes elsewhere; a route to reach the imprisoned Felt and the others; a route to flee with them—and, in addition, the evacuation of a person whose being left in the Royal Capital would, they knew, become a weakness for them.
The recklessness on paper, over half a month, had been made into something better—at least to the point that all that remained to pay the fare for entrusting themselves to fate was courage。――Unintended though it was, that day was exactly two months to the day since Heinkel and Filore had sworn their oath as master and retainer.
――In the sky of the Royal Capital, only just beginning to pale, the bells announcing morning worship were ringing.
Having completed her daily worship this morning and fulfilled her duties as the Saint, Filore stood before the main gate of the Royal Castle, holding the petition that made it her one hundred and fiftieth.
「...Adding fifty more in half a month is overdoing it.」
「Not at all; round numbers just feel kind of auspicious, don’t they? It’s a plan Lord Heinkel has honed and re-honed. I won’t spare any effort to make it succeed!」
「What effort, exactly—what?」
As ever, the direction of her effort was lost, but her energy seemed abundant. In fact, as this day drew near, Heinkel grew heavier of heart, while Filore looked better and better, and he felt the difference in their mettle. All the same—
「Nervous?」
「Yes! I feel like my heart’s about to leap out of my mouth!」
「If it does, swallow it. Whatever you do, don’t drop it inside the castle.」
「Of course. It would be a problem if someone picked it up, and I’d feel sorry for whoever did.」
Their traded quips were in their usual vein, and her nerve left him in awe. Not about to be the one to drag his feet, Heinkel hauled along his heavy resolve, raised his face, and looked up at the castle. In his duties as deputy commander of the Royal Guard Knights, and as Filore’s attending knight, he had had plenty of occasions to visit the Royal Castle。――However, going up to the castle with a scheme—this was, in Heinkel’s life, the first time in fifteen years, and only the second time.
「I’ve properly entrusted errands to Tiga and Sakura. Right up to today we were entirely tied up with securing the routes to the clinics. We shouldn’t be under suspicion.」
「It was lucky that part, too, came together right on the half-month mark. Up to this point, we can still turn back, you know?」
「You don’t need to test my resolve so many times. The Scripture also says this: ‘The wise unravel the abstruse; the holy esteem the simple. And the dragon’s law is concise: to love, to protect, to believe. There is no deeper wisdom, nor any that can compare!’」
「Not the sort of thing someone about to turn their back on that church should be saying.」
Heinkel shrugged at Filore, who could blithely say such things even though she undoubtedly entrusted part of her creed to the teachings of the Dragon Church. There was no road back anymore; as if to prove it—
「――Sorry to have kept you waiting. Please, go on through.」
As they came to the castle, the gate guard, having confirmed their reason for visiting and their status, bowed, and the way opened beyond the heavy gate. Filore stepped forward, and Heinkel moved to stand half a pace ahead of her.
Using a plea they expected to be rejected as a cloak, lady and knight strode openly through the front, stepping into the Royal Castle to break into it.
△▼△▼△▼△
――The plan advanced without a hitch, so smoothly it was almost unsettling.
「It's all thanks to the way I, Emilia, and the others conduct ourselves every day. I'm sure it's canceling out the bad impression from Sir Heinkel's habitually self-deprecating misbehavior.」
This was Filore's reaction, welcoming things unfolding just as arranged beforehand. Harsh as her words were, since things were actually going well, he hesitated to argue. In the first place, it would be odd to dislike things proceeding according to plan.
That day as well, under the pretext of a petition for a hearing, Filore went to appeal to the Council of Sages and the high nobles, and, as expected, was sloppily chased off with empty answers. While soothing Filore, who was not acting but genuinely vexed, and under the pretense of calming her indignation, they slipped out of sight—and infiltrated along the planned route.
「――? Heinkel?」
Avoiding the eyes of the patrolling sentries, they reached the back of the East Wing; in front of the target room stood two guards, one of them the long-haired knight Zeor Zandrick—who had, for some time, made Heinkel his pet enemy, a man Heinkel disliked as well. Zeol and the other knight in his entourage spotted Heinkel walking quickly down the corridor, with Filore behind him, and their eyes flew wide in surprise.
「Why the hell are you here…」
「Because it's your shift.」
Zeol hesitated and stood stock-still; that instant was enough. Dropping his knees and slipping out of the man's line of sight, he seized the bulging-eyed man's wrist and yanked him in, then slammed a chokehold into the open neck, stealing his voice. With a strangled "ka," he swept Zeol's legs and sent him tumbling; and before the other could even draw his sword, he jabbed the hilt of his own blade into the man's solar plexus and, with a returning strike, drove him to the floor. Then, turning back to Zeol, who was on his knees clutching his throat,
「Have you… lost your mind…?」
「I've been meaning to say this: if you're a knight, cut your hair or tie it back.」
Throwing that at the gasping Zeol whose throat he'd struck, Heinkel rapped the back of his head, robbed him of consciousness, and left the two sentries sprawled. Then he let out a long breath. With this, there was no turning back.
「I'll count it as lucky it was Zeol, at least…」
Even so, it pained him to knock down knights faithful to their duties. Taking as a compromise the fact that at least this one was someone he had reason to dislike, Heinkel dragged the two he'd felled to the edge of the corridor and called, 「Miss Filore」,
「No one should come for a while, but this is where it counts. How quickly we can persuade Miss Felt and Lady Emilia… What's wrong?」
「N-no, it's just that, now that I think about it, it's the first time I've seen Sir Heinkel fight, so I was, well, trembling in astonishment. My knight is strong!」
「— I only took advantage of a careless opening. A truly strong knight wouldn't be careless in the first place.」
Heinkel thought that was the difference between a fake with only a title and the genuine article. A surprise attack had just happened to work; if Filore mistook that for Heinkel's true ability, it would only put her at risk. After impressing that upon Filore—
「――――」
He slowly opened the door and quietly peered inside. Though it was effectively confinement, the pretext was protection. Thinking there was no need to worry about guards inside the room itself, Heinkel kept his guard up, with Filore behind him. Seeing Heinkel's face, the person in the room stared, eyes widening.
「…Didn't expect to see that mug. For the record, I haven't seen your son's mug in a while either.」
「— I know without you saying so. We've been pretty much missing each other in passing.」
Hit with Reinhard as the very first topic, Heinkel answered with a bitter look. Not that it wasn't expected: between Heinkel and her—Felt—the obvious common topic was his son. Then, from beside Heinkel, as if she couldn't help herself, Filore popped her face in to peek,
「— Sir Heinkel, are you all right? Is everything okay now? Is no one there?」
Whether she had any sense of caution or not, Filore literally stuck her head into the room. Meeting Filore's eyes, Felt made a face of frank distaste.
「You're a pain even when I'm not locked up, and you come when I am…」
「You're being far too insolent. It's 『Lady』 Filore who's gone out of her way to come see you.」
Honestly, Felt's reaction was the expected one, and he felt the same, but Heinkel offered that rebuke both as a clear statement of where he stood and in his role as a knight. But then Filore cut in with, "Now, now, now,"
"It's fine, Sir Heinkel! We both know that arguing with Felt over that will be futile. More importantly, we should be talking about something productive!"
"You're loud as hell. Something productive?"
Chiding Filore's volume, Felt looked back and forth at us with a probing gaze. Apparently she picked up on the intent packed into how she was being addressed. As ever, for someone with such a rough manner, she catches on quick. Is it the blood of the Lugunica royal family?—No, if it were the blood of the Lugunica royals, Filore's defenselessness would be the more telling trait.
While Heinkel's attention was being diverted into such needless musings, Filore, meanwhile, gave a big nod to Felt's words,
"Of course, something productive! A bumper crop! Truth is, I figured Felt would be running out of patience right about now. I am too! Well? Did I guess right?"
"...Well, I ain't gonna deny it. But you, saying you've run outta patience too—"
"—Let's break out. Me, Felt, Emilia—all of us."
Direct, with no detours—downright blunt. At that overly bold proposal, Felt silently looked up at the ceiling and fell quiet for a while.
"Between Big Sis Emilia and you, Filore... what's with Royal Selection Candidates?"
"Huh? What do you mean!?"
"Nah, the Emilia in my head had already started bustling around, gettin' ready to bust outta jail. Just wonderin' how you two ended up thinkin' the exact same way."
"Is that... because Emilia and I are best friends? Oh my... Felt, to think you see us like that—"
"Hey, old man, you didn't dump the whole plan on this airhead, did ya?"
Exasperated with Filore, who had a hand to her blushing cheek, Felt tossed the question my way. Given their relationship, you'd think she wouldn't even want to speak to Heinkel, yet I had to admire how, when the situation called for it, she didn't hesitate to get her hands dirty.
"I won't go so far as to say relax, but I've spent a fair bit of time on the prep. I've got the number of lookouts and their patrol routes pinned down. The way out is an old royal-family escape passage in the castle. I've arranged a hideout for after we slip out of here, and a way to get out of the Royal Capital."
"Heh, better than I thought."
"See? Sir Heinkel gets things done. But, but, I was the one who first came up with the breakout, so please don't forget that!"
"That's not something to brag about—that's something to reflect on."
"Huh!?"
Why she thought that would earn her praise, I can't imagine; having her expectations dashed, Filore looked put out. Beside her, Felt folded her slender arms, thought for a bit, tapped her own arm with a finger, and after about ten seconds gave an "All right" nod,
"Fine, I'm in. I was fixin' to make a move soon anyway. Plan was to rough up whoever brought the grub, snatch the key and a sword, and bolt. If I ran into Big Sis Emilia along the way, great—otherwise it was gonna be pure seat-of-the-pants."
"Wingin' it doesn't count as a plan..."
"We ain't got tools or intel—can't be helped. And now those tools and intel went and grew legs and walked right up to me. No way I'm passin' that up."
"See, see? I knew Felt would hop right on board! Didn't I tell you, Sir Heinkel? I love this about her."
"I'm startin' not to hate that about you, either."
Matching easygoing Filore, Felt flashed a smile that showed a little fang. From the prior information alone, the two of them should've had a complicated relationship where butting heads was only natural, but it seems they've hit it off over not being picky about means for the sake of what's important.
"This is liable to give me a headache later, but fine for now. Then, follow me. Lady Emilia is on a higher floor. They've made the proper arrangements to seal her magic—"
"—What about Reinhard?"
"......"
Thinking that, with their agreement obtained, things could move quickly, Heinkel tried to push the situation forward—only for the question he'd expected to be thrown at him, leaving him at a loss for words.
"Does that bastard know about this too? Or is he waitin' outside?"
She made it sound offhand, but Felt's voice was just a shade lower. Heinkel and the others had already heard, at their previous encounter, that for a little over two months Felt and Reinhard hadn't faced each other. Needless to say, this confinement wasn't what Felt wanted. How did she take the knight who'd left his liege in that unwilling position?
"No. He doesn't know a thing about this."
"......"
「He didn't get dragged into this plan. And if this had reached his ears, neither I nor Lady Filore would have been able to make it here.」
That wasn't sarcasm or a jibe; it was Heinkel's unvarnished truth.
「……That so.」
Although she surely understood what Heinkel's answer implied, Felt answered only that much, showing neither disappointment nor disillusion on her face. Instead, when her once-closed eyelids opened, what dwelled in those red eyes was flame――so dazzlingly bright, the flame of anger. Feeding that passion into the blaze, she nevertheless laughed boldly,
「Then all the more reason we can't stick around in a dump like this. I wanna wipe that bastard's smug face right off, so let's bust outta here, pronto.」
「――――」
「What, you got a problem with that?」
「――. No.」
In that instant, so the emotions welling up in his chest wouldn't be seen through, Heinkel spat out the words. Honestly, he didn't know. Who was it that bound Reinhard and this girl together? What intent lay behind it, what course was desired――nothing. Only, he was made to think now that if Reinhard were to choose something, it could only ever have been this girl.――Or was it the other way around?
Was it Reinhard who was the one chosen? If so――、
「That's the spirit! At this rate we'll whisk Emilia out in a snap, and Lord Heinkel's peerless stratagems will take care of everything after that!」
「――――」
The sentiment that had just flickered through his heart was unceremoniously chopped apart by Filore's irrepressibly bright voice. After being taken aback by that statement――the very epitome of leaving things to someone else――the tension drained from his shoulders. To fret over the unanswerable at a time when it was pointless to do so was Heinkel's inborn bad habit. It felt like a kick to the back telling him it was a waste.
「You're sure bein' trusted a lot. Are you really the same old man I know?」
「The same. If push comes to shove, I'll put a sword to your neck and force a breakthrough while using you as a hostage.」
「Hah. Now that's the old man I know.」
「Why are you two seeing eye to eye over something so dangerous?」
While Filore tilted her head in puzzlement, Heinkel peered down the hallway, confirmed nothing had been discovered yet, and jerked his chin for the two to follow. Fortunately, contrary to his pessimistic expectations, persuading Felt had gone well. There was still plenty of time until the change of the guard.――We can do this, he felt.
「――――」
He cast a sidelong glance behind him and saw Filore and Felt following. Two girls with the same features――golden hair and red eyes――also bore the same title, Royal Selection Candidate. To be chosen and backed for such a station, there has to be a reason――namely, that fate favors you. Perhaps they had that.
「Mind your footsteps and follow me.」
Needless to say for Felt, but the sort of instruction he had to voice for Filore or he'd worry, Heinkel and the others headed for the room upstairs where Emilia was confined. Though the explanation had been cut off, the room Emilia was in should have a ward in place to forbid the use of magic, and the security ought to be thicker than for Felt. That stemmed less from her combat strength being higher than Felt's, and more from the lingering fear toward her origins.
Even so, there was a ray of hope――the hope that Reinhard would not come.
「Locking the Royal Selection Candidates up together in the same wing was their fatal mistake.」
Now, the East Wing is the place in the Royal Castle that should be under the strictest guard, but the Kingdom cannot station its strongest trump card, Reinhard, in this wing in particular. That is, plain and simple, the result of fearing Felt's influence over Reinhard. With Felt in between, the Kingdom cannot help harboring a twinge of unease about its grounds for being able to move Reinhard as it pleases.――That was what kept Reinhard away from the East Wing.
With the Royal Capital still not fully pacified, and under the pretext of maintaining public order, today again Reinhard has been assigned not to the Royal Castle but to guarding the Royal Capital's outskirts. Of the half month spent on preparations, it would be no exaggeration to say that more than half of it was devoted to gaining this certainty.――Therefore, Reinhard will not come.
「Stop.」
Reaching the target floor, he peered down the corridor from the edge of the stairs and halted the two behind him. They had arrived earlier than planned, but this time slot was just after the guards' shift change――when their focus would still be holding. Any rash move and they'd be exposed. So they held their breath, but――、
「Lord Heinkel? It doesn't look like anyone's here……」
「――――」
From behind, Filore, who had also peered down the passage after tapping Heinkel on the shoulder, knit her brows. As she said, the corridor where lookouts ought to be posted had not a single silhouette where one should have been; the hallway lay deserted. If they cut straight across this corridor and turned at the end, they could reach the very room where Emilia was being held, without encountering any obstacle.
“Could it be our everyday good conduct has carried us this far...?”
“Strange.” “This ain’t how it’s supposed to be.”
Before the trembling Filore, Heinkel and Felt found themselves in agreement. With Filore murmuring behind them, “And yet he’s my knight...,” Heinkel stifled a click of his tongue. Odd as it was, it would have been easier on the nerves if the sentries had been there as expected. What should have been there wasn’t; what should have existed didn’t. Even when a deviation from expectations favors them, it clamps Heinkel’s stomach in a vise.
When coincidences keep piling up in a gambling den, only amateurs rejoice at their good luck. You suspect you’re being made to win—that is the maxim of someone accustomed to losing.
“—Stay here.”
Having ordered the two to remain where they were, Heinkel finished climbing the stairs. He then slowly set foot along the corridor, closing the distance one step, two steps toward the spot where, under normal circumstances, a lookout should be standing. The taut, ringing silence beat against his eardrums; the pounding of his heart was hot, painful.
Whether that was phantom pain brought on by cowardice, he sought another chance to verify it with his next strides—and in that instant, at the prickle rising along the nape of his neck, Heinkel’s right hand moved on reflex to the hilt. The quick draw—an instantaneous movement rooted in survival instinct—stopped. No—was stopped. The blade had lifted an inch from the scabbard when it did.
“—!”
A palm dropping from above was pressing down on the pommel. Even when he poured strength into his arm, the sword did not budge in the scabbard. He could neither draw it nor put it back. It was a pressure as if the very castle itself were pinning his sword down.
“—What are you doing here, Vice-Commander?”
When had he come to be standing there? With that bulk and heavy armor, how could he have kept both his presence and his footsteps from being noticed?
Confronted with a reality he could not comprehend and another surge of misplaced, runaway thoughts, Heinkel shuddered from the very depths of his being.
Reinhard would not be coming. That conjecture had been correct. But make no mistake: even if Reinhard was absent, there is a reason the Lugunica Royal Castle is lauded as impregnable. And that reason is—
“Do you understand what you’re doing? —Heinkel”
—Yes, because of the presence of the Commander of the Royal Guard Knights, Marcos Gildark, wreathed in a heavy, forbidding sword aura.
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