—It was a windowless room.
A circular hall had been cut out, and at its center a round table dominated the space. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t a round table. It was a large octagonal table with its corners lightly beveled. One chair sat on each of the eight sides, eight seats in all. And now, four of them were occupied—
—Hey, I’m always wonderin’, ya know. These all angular tables—where d’you even get ’em from?
Lounging back with both feet thrown up on the tabletop and his hands clasped behind his head, pressing them into the chair’s back, a voice rudely tossed out a question. It belonged to a sharp-eyed young man with bright, spiky blue hair. He acted big, but he was small of build and high of voice, giving off the vibe of some hot-blooded little animal. The way he kept thumping his heels on the table in rapid succession, filling the air with restless noise, only added to that impression.
At the young man’s question, a low “hmm” came from the old man seated on the adjoining side. He was big-bodied, thick both vertically and horizontally; set beside the small youth, the difference was that of an adult and a child. Wearing work clothes like a Kararagi Wazoo, the old man turned toward the youth and said,
“Reborn, speaking hypothetically, what kind of answer do you want to your question just now? Tell me the answer you desire. Hypothetical will do.”
“Ain’t nothin’ hypothetical about it. It’s well-made, it fits our headcount, so I was just thinkin’ what kinda convenient table you managed to rustle up, is all.”
“I see—so in a good way. Then I was right to prepare my heart.”
“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, I’m the one who made this table. Whether it’s praise or a thoughtless critique, whatever gets said, one must be prepared in advance, no?”
“Quit talkin’ in circles, old man! Shouldn’ta bothered praisin’ you!”
With a hard stomp of his heel on the table, the young man called Reborn spat that out. At the abuse, the old man said, “Hey now,” furrowing his thick brows as he rubbed his gray-streaked head.
“This is a round table made from an ancient tree centuries old. Show respect to things that have weathered long years. In most cases, time does not lie. The same goes for me. Respect your elders.”
“Respect, huh? And what exactly d’you want me to do?”
“Listen, and don’t take this seriously. Hear it as a hypothetical. Respecting your elders means this:—if I tell you to die, you promptly die.”
“Then I’ll just have to kill you before you can say it, Arbalest!”
“Uh!!”
Reborn swung the foot he’d had up on the table, flipped himself off the chair in one fluid motion, and just as he was about to level the big blade on his back at the old man—Arbalest—there came the clatter of a chair being kicked. It came from the person seated opposite Arbalest with Reborn between them—a young boy with chestnut hair who looked to be in his mid-teens at most. Teary-eyed, he hugged in both arms a big lamp that held Lagmite ore and—
“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’ll apologize, so please don’t get angry. When I get scolded, my head starts to spin. So please stop. I’ll apologize. I said I’m sorry…!”
“Behold, Reborn. Tornel, the youngest here and the one easiest to belittle, pleads so earnestly. Even if only for the sake of being the elder, do you not feel ashamed?”
“Wh—, nn, why’s this kid sniveling and apologizin’? A-and why do I gotta let it slide on his account…?!”
Wedged between the boy and the old man—Tornel and Arbalest—Reborn trembled with anger. It looked as if he’d next fly into a tantrum and rampage, and blood would be spilled in the room—when—
—Hey, I’ve figured it out. Just now, Tornel tried to shield Arbalest because his feelings overflowed from how precious Arbalest is to him… in other words, doesn’t that mean the two of them are in love? Oh my! What an age gap! A love that blazes!
With that, a woman’s voice, pitched high with excitement, carelessly sliced through the air. Flushing, she had planted both hands on the table as she stood—a woman in a black dress, wearing a large hat, with long black hair streaked with purple that nearly brushed the floor. Belying her mature appearance, her eyes sparkled like a dreaming girl’s as she cupped her own cheeks in both hands.
“But wait—couldn’t it also be this? Tornel didn’t shield Arbalest; rather, Reborn couldn’t bear him looking at anyone but himself… so he deliberately stepped into the line of fire to make Reborn look at him! That’s it!”
“That’s it, my ass! Don’t say creepy crap like that, Liquorice… you romance-addled brain! Your head’s chewing on that junk twenty-four-seven!”
Oh, come on, are you too shy to be one of the parties in love? If you keep that up, that special someone will turn their back on you... Wait? Is it that you don’t want me to misunderstand? Is that why you’re acting like that? Do you like me? I like you too!
"Shut uuuup."
Reborn pointed the tip of his blade at the blushing, wriggling woman and gave that order. She pressed her hands together in front of her chest and mouthed something, but fell silent. Even so, her expressions and fidgeting were loud enough to insist on her obtrusive presence.
"Reborn, this is forbidden among siblings. Hypothetically, if what you just did to Liquorice were to reach Mama’s ears, it would be you who received a harsh lesson, you know?"
"Then I’ll just shut all their mouths. Anyone here who can beat me?"
"Hypothetically, no. Maybe head-on, but if anything goes, even less so."
"Good, as long as you get it. ... How loooong are you gonna keep wriggling?!"
"——" "Eek! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!"
The woman kept wriggling in silence, and Tornel clutched his head as if he were the one being yelled at. Irritated by both reactions, a vein stood out on Reborn’s brow. And then—
"Ah, my apologies, my apologies, I’m late! I called you all together and I’m truly sorry. I’ve been quite busy running a nation, you see!"
Speaking in that clear, carrying voice as hurried, clicking footsteps rang out, a young man entered the room. Brown-skinned, tall and slender, a strikingly handsome youth, he wore a long robe of black accented with white and gold. Behind him he led two girls whose impressions could not have been more different. One was a pale girl with wavy green hair, eyes downcast. The other was a beauty with shoulder-length shining blond hair and dazzling, eye-catching eyes. Leading them in, the young man rounded the great table and tilted his head.
"Hm? What’s wrong, Liquorice? It’s not like you—usually so passionate—to greet me in silence... Aha, so it’s you, Reborn. No, no, you must obey Mama’s orders! You don’t want labels like ‘dropout’ or ‘problem child’ pinned on you, do you?"
At the sight of Liquorice—the woman dancing in silence—the young man addressed Reborn, who had curled his lip and turned away. When Reborn ignored him, the beautiful girl behind the young man chimed in instead with a bright, "That’s right!"
"Yes, yes, just like Dandon says. Everything, all of it. At this rate, Reborn will be a dropout, a failure. Let’s report that to Mama. That’s best, right? Hey, Dandon, isn’t that so?"
"No, Lucieleka, I believe in Reborn. I hold that he is a ‘sage’ who has the breadth to lend an ear to admonition!"
"That’s right! Dandon is always right. Reborn is noisy and insolent and I often wish he’d die, but he can at least listen to important advice. Right, Reborn? You’re an idiot, but not idiot enough to die, are you?"
"Tch."
At Lucieleka’s bright, beaming smile, Reborn clicked his tongue in disgust and let the tip of the blade in his hand drop onto the hard floor. A keen, bone-rattling ring struck the room. And then—
"No, no, that’s indecent. But the bigger the obstacle, the higher love’s flames blaze! Lucieleka or Clarissa—just which of you will win Dandon’s love? ... Or could it be me!?"
"See? You can’t even tell what the hell she’s saying. You lot handle her yourselves."
"That’s right! I have no idea what Liquorice is saying. Everything—absolutely everything—Reborn says is right. I thought so too. Dandon, you think so as well, don’t you?"
"Hahaha, I’m not some ‘bigot’ who would play favorites between Reborn and Liquorice. They are both equally precious siblings! Only, Liquorice, I’m not a ‘deviant’ who harbors romantic feelings for his own siblings, so don’t forget that!"
"That’s right, Liquorice—abnormal! Your thinking is abnormal! You pervert!"
"Lucieleka’s being so hard on me... does that mean she likes me? I like you too!"
Breaking the brief silence, Liquorice swept the room with a feverish tone and gaze, and a bad mood spread among the young man, the girl, Reborn, and the others. But before that air could fully pervade, a loud, sharp sound drew everyone’s attention to the center of the room. Its cause was the green-haired girl who had quietly taken her seat; just after she crushed a splinter of wood beneath her fingertip, spiderweb-like cracks ran from the center across the great octagonal table. She met no one’s eyes, kept her head bowed, and with trembling lips,
"I-it's fine, just sit down already... Let's start quickly and get it over with, or Mama will get angry. She will, won't she. I don't like that. I don't."
"—All right, everyone! Clarissa has told us what must be done! Come now, take your seats! Let's have an important, very important talk!"
"Hm, but, Dandon. This was the great table I crafted, you know. Hypothetically, if you'd said a word before turning it into something to be broken like this..."
"My brother and dear Grandfather, I said we should take our seats. Mama entrusted me with keeping everyone in order. I wouldn't want to brand you as 'dead weight.'"
"—. It was only a hypothetical, only a hypothetical."
Raising his large hands, Arbalest drew back, and the young man—Dandon—nodded deeply, then once more urged everyone present to take their seats with a brisk, "Now then!" In response, the seven people in the room quietly took their respective seats. When all were in their assigned places, the only empty spot was one seat at the head of the table—
"Then, let's offer our greeting to absent Mama. Bow your heads, with daily gratitude and ever-swelling love."
"—Mama, thank you as always. We love you more than anyone in the world."
Solemnly, earnestly, the seven—who until now had been out of sync, their attitudes all over the place, mismatched in everything from gender and age to principles—at this moment alone came together as if by a miracle. Words, gestures, every last thing formed a rite directed at a single object—if you looked past its content, it might even have felt like something sacred, a total offering of the self.
After maintaining that stillness for a while, Dandon, the first to raise his head, clapped lightly twice to signal the close of the ritual time, then,
"Now then, with our greeting to beloved Mama done, shall we begin a fun, bright, and fruitful discussion! — The first agenda item is the 'dangerous individual' who has gone to ground, the Royal Selection candidate Crusch Karsten."
So saying, Dandon set a sheet of paper on the cracked great table. Depicted there was a beautiful woman with her long green hair tied back and a gallant cast to her features—the 'Valkyrie' Crusch Karsten, who for these past two months has kept slipping her pursuers. At present, the kingdom has listed her as the perpetrator of Miklotov McMahon's murder and continues to track her movements, but they haven't managed to grasp even her shadow.
"We've checked not only entries to and exits from the Royal Capital, but also the highway checkpoints and dragon-carriage depots across the land; we've questioned peddlers and innkeepers and had them comb their records—but there's been no word. Natsuki Subaru, who disappeared together with Duchess Karsten, and Felix Argyle, later confirmed to be accompanying the two—there's no doubt they're acting together."
"However, people do not simply vanish like smoke. Hypothetically, even if they had turned to smoke, we should have enough men at our disposal to find them. If we still cannot, then..."
"It would mean they have an accomplice capable of making that happen. Someone unknown to us is aiding their escape, providing food and beds, and hiding them from our search. — Most likely our archenemy, 'Six Tongues.'"
"... 'Six Tongues' is always such a nuisance."
Biting the nail of her thumb, the pale-faced girl—Clarissa—muttered gloomily. For everyone present, the name 'Six Tongues' carries a weighty, accursed meaning—how often has that hostile organization's interference spoiled Mother's mood? Her mood, whether she is radiant or sullen, is terrifying all the same.
"Hey, I realized something—Crusch and Felix were master and retainer to begin with, right? But Natsuki, who barged in here, was from a different camp, wasn't he? And yet they're together; doesn't that scream stolen love to you? This is the flame of love!"
"That's right! Just as Liquorice says, it's love! Natsuki Subaru is in love with Crusch Karsten! That's why they're fleeing together! Isn't that so?"
"No, you're wrong, Lucieleka! The one Natsuki loves is Felix! Because the obstacles are bigger that way—and it burns hotter!"
"No doubt about it! You're out of your mind and everyone hates you, but everything Liquorice says must be right! Everyone thinks so too, don't you?"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry—because of you two the discussion isn't moving forward, and I'm the one who's sorry."
"No, Tornel has nothing to apologize for. In terms of exploring possibilities, even Liquorice's illness has its uses. Lucieleka, follow Tornel's example and keep quiet."
"I will! If Dandon says so!"
Smiling, Lucieleka rose from her seat, headed to where Tornel sat almost directly across, and beside him clamped both hands over her own mouth and fell silent. The gesture made Tornel fidget nervously, but before long he did the same—covering his own mouth with both hands and falling silent as well.
「Now that the idiots have shut up, it's a bit easier to talk. So? Have you finally figured out anything about the 'Six Tongues' lot?」
「No, no, no, not in the slightest! See, their bodies bear curse-seals. Try to hear them out, and the instant you so much as let a fingertip touch the crux, snip—suicide. Like this, there's no way to draw out any information. Thoroughly merciless orders; their leader is a 'Cold-Blooded Man'!」
「Six tongues, yet not a single one free to use. For the sake of argument, a formidable foe indeed.」
Even though they were talking about how they couldn't get a handle on the enemy, Dandon didn't lose his cheer. While Reborn and Arbalest wore troubled looks, Clarissa raised a timid hand and added another question, 「May I?」
「...Is there still a chance that Duchess Karsten is hiding in the Royal Capital?」
「There is. Or rather, when we try to rule out that possibility, sightings crop up in the Royal Capital. Not only erasing their tracks, they're deliberately leaving some to throw us off. Nothing but excellent enemies—what a chance to exercise our abilities! Don't you think so, brothers and sisters?」
「Speaking of nothing but excellent enemies... for the sake of argument, is that the second item on the agenda?」
「Precisely! My brother and dear Grandfather understands well. The second agenda item concerns those of the Emilia camp who likewise slipped our grasp.」
When you lump them together as the Emilia camp, Natsuki Subaru, who disappeared alongside Crusch, is an awfully troublesome outlier; but aside from him—the knight of Emilia—the others also slipped our hands before we could detain them and are now on the run. And, alarmingly, they did so while eluding the 'Sword Saint,' Reinhard van Astrea.
「The 'Sword Saint' cooperated with other camps in the Water Gate City... that's what they say. I also heard he got in Mama's way... maybe he let them escape on purpose?」
「If he did that, he should know it would bring about an unwelcome result. I don't think he's that much of a 'Fool.' Grandfather, your opinion?」
「Hmm, indeed. As a precaution, we are surely imposing as many fetters as possible on the 'Sword Saint,' yet he is a paragon beyond the rumors. The number of shackles depends on the opponent's capacity; for the sake of argument, if we placed the same fetters on Reborn as on the current 'Sword Saint,' both I and Reborn would already be dead.」
「Hey, nn, why're ya dragging me into this?」
「Come on, Reborn, don't you get it? There's only one reas――。――。――――。――――！」
「Reborn! Please don't add any more items to report to Mama! That said, did you get that, Clarissa? I see—『good girl』.」
Taking the quiet lowering of her raised hand as assent, Dandon spread, one after another, the wanted posters of those still being sought across the great table. Naturally, to everyone here, they were faces they'd stared at until they could have bored holes in them.
「The members of the Emilia camp, after joining up with the 'Sword Demon,' Wilhelm van Astrea, left no trail we can follow. If the 'Sword Demon' and 'Six Tongues' are connected, there's a chance the camp has linked up with Crusch and her group.」
「Isn't prying it out of them your job? Get the old geezers to sell them out already.」
「Neither clapping on fetters nor fixing brands in place is easy. If, hypothetically, we could do that, the kingdom would have fallen into Mama's hands all the more easily.」
「...Who was the candidate for leader of the 'Six Tongues'? You know, the Western Margrave.」
「「――Roswaal L. Mathers」」
It was Tornel and Lucieleka who overlapped their answers to Clarissa's query. As though overawed by that, Tornel clutched his head, while Lucieleka's eyes sparkled.
「S-sorry, I'm sorry. I said something I shouldn't have.」
「It's fine, Tornel, relax. I only matched my voice to yours just now. I'm not thinking about anything. I'm a puppet who just does as I'm told. But, but, if you want to stay a useless thing who says unnecessary things, I think that's fine too. You really are useless!」
「Eek—I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.」
「Anyway, in any case, the matter of Margrave Mathers that just came up ties directly to the third item on the agenda. The suspicion that he himself is the leader of the 'Six Tongues'... In fact, he ignored the summons to attend the royal castle and disappeared along with his household!」
「So in short, ain't there nobody left at all!」
「Ha-ha-ha, exactly! Though Margrave Mathers is mocked as having a 'Demi-Human Fetish' or being a 'Court Jester,' it's we who are being deceived!」
In answer to the clamor of Tornel, Lucieleka, and Reborn, Dandon, not to be outdone, let out a loud, exultant laugh that seemed to ignore how dire the situation was. But it was by no means the foolishness of averting his eyes from inconvenient facts.
"We are the ones who have both the castle and the nation under control... aren't we?"
"Not wrong. Even if, hypothetically, they managed to flee this far, it's not something they can keep up for life. They, too, have deadlines they cannot ignore. The same can be said of us."
"—That's right. The time to settle things with the 'rebels' is close."
With a resounding smack, Dandon brought his palm down on the round table and crushed Crusch's wanted poster in his fist. Still smiling as he made that declaration, he drew the eyes of those who filled the other six seats—the brothers and sisters bound by the bond of love for their one and only mother, with that mother at the very apex.
"Well then, everyone, it's good that we all now share an understanding of the situation. Each of you, follow the orders you've already received—hm? Ah, wait. A message just came in."
Saying so, just as he was about to wrap up, Dandon drew a small mirror—the 'Conversation Mirror'—from within his robe and opened it in his hand. He met the eyes of the caller reflected on its surface, and—
"Well, well, well, you seem busy. We were just enjoying a get-together with all the brothers and sisters present. Shame you aren't here, but is it urgent?"
Dandon smiled amiably at the face in the mirror, but when he heard the words that came back, his expression stiffened ever so slightly. And the content was—
"—Emilia and Felt, who were being detained, have escaped? And with Filler of the 'Dragon Church' leading the way?"
"——"
At Dandon's muttered confirmation, the air in the room with the round table came to a halt. Yet another unplanned occurrence—one on par with, or perhaps graver than, the time two months ago when they let Crusch slip away; an unforeseen development that could not be dismissed as a trifle.
Under the gathered gazes, Dandon fell silent for a moment. Then he moved the stacked wanted posters on the round table to the only empty seat—the head chair where no one sat—and covered his face with his hand, as if in lament.
"—Let's set the 'Supporters' in motion. There's no need to panic."
Keeping his face covered, he continued. It was something he told himself—told themselves—the consensus of the brothers and sisters: the 'Beloved Children.'
"To heed dear Mama's will—that's the condition for being a proper 'Beloved Son' and 'Beloved Daughter.'"
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