Episode 005. Answer (2)
Anemone, a high-class full-course restaurant in the capital's bustling district.
The second floor there was quiet.
It wasn't because business was bad.
On the contrary, this place had become so popular in recent months that you couldn't even get in without a reservation.
Especially the second floor with its great view—it was so coveted that even nobles had to fight fiercely for reservations.
And yet, the reason it was quiet right now was simple.
Because Crown Prince Callios had rented out the entire second floor.
Callios's gaze was turned toward the commoners outside the window.
His expression was full of worry.
Because the words he'd heard from Yuren a few days ago refused to leave his head.
–What on earth are you doing? Where is your mind wandering off to?
The moment those words had raked at his insides.
"Your Highness, are you all right?"
A gentle voice pierced Callios's ears.
Flinching, Callios turned his eyes forward.
Rebecca was looking at him with a worried expression.
So Callios forced a smile and said,
"Ah… I'm sorry. I had something to think about for a moment."
He focused on her.
Her pink hair and green eyes etched themselves into his retinas in pastel tones.
Delicate features—especially those round, big eyes—made her resemble a baby bird, stirring an instinct to protect.
Feeling guilty for putting worry on that face, Callios said,
"Let's eat. I've been waiting a long time for this day."
He picked up his fork and knife.
One of the few days they could be alone together.
How desperately he'd waited for today.
'Yes.'
The Tower Lord who appeared at every opening to interfere, and the underworld's master who kept picking fights—neither was in the capital today.
The archduke of the North had left for training, and the saint of the Holy See was busy with church events.
If not today, when would they ever get this kind of intimacy again?
'Happiness… this is happiness.'
Rebecca.
The woman who awakened love in him.
If he let her go, it felt like he would regret it for the rest of his life.
And once again, she made that certainty unshakable.
"Try some of this too!"
Rebecca took some meat from her plate and placed it on Callios's.
It wasn't proper noble etiquette, but Callios didn't even think of that.
"…Why. It's good meat."
"Exactly."
Rebecca smiled brightly.
"So, Your Highness should eat more!"
Ah, what a lovely heart.
A pure heart that cared for the other without any pretense—how beautiful.
It had to be her.
No one else, nothing else—
–Have you truly lost all sense of judgment? You dare put some commoner girl on the same scale as the crown prince's position?
Flinching, his fingertips trembled again.
That ice-cold stare from that moment felt as if it were boring into him once more.
"Your Highness…?"
"…I'm sorry."
Callios tried to erase that voice.
He shut his mouth tight and lowered his gaze.
But it wouldn't disappear.
As if carved into his head, or carved into his chest.
Every word the man had spat out only grew clearer with each passing day.
Without realizing it, his eyes drifted back out the window.
And the smiling faces of the commoners engraved themselves into his retinas again.
The meaning of the crown prince's position.
It resurfaced in his mind.
Callios wasn't stupid.
If anything, his mind was brilliant enough that even Yuren acknowledged it.
After all, when he'd seen a future where he reached Grand Master through meditation alone, how could his talent or intuition be lacking?
So for Callios, imagining what would happen if he gave up his position as crown prince was easy.
'No one can replace me.'
The second prince who constantly eyed this seat had enormous ambition, but a narrow view.
He lacked the ability to carry out a balanced range of policies.
The third prince? Too weak.
That brat would surely be swayed by ministers and lose his way.
Then who else was there?
Many faces flickered across his mind, but there was still no one.
The landscape Callios saw was a landscape only he could see.
Even putting aside the grand, sweeping perspective—up close, it was the same.
'If I lose my position as crown prince?'
A war for the throne.
How exalted was the seat of emperor of a thousand-year empire?
And how vicious was the greed of those who sought to seize it?
It was a war beneath the surface, but a war nonetheless.
War requires funds.
And where do nobles get their funds?
From the commoners' labor and taxes.
A war they waged among themselves could escalate into territorial wars, or be used as capital for business schemes.
No matter what it became, the moment it was set in motion, it was the commoners who suffered.
–Branches can sway in the wind. But the roots must never shake. Yet Your Highness right now is no different from a tree whose roots are trembling.
This choice—this wavering—creates that tragedy.
The harder he tried to hold on to her, the more real those outcomes began to feel.
Callios suddenly realized that.
Kkuaaak—!
Strength surged into the hand gripping his utensils.
With the smiling commoners before his eyes, the guilt swelled to a size beyond words.
'I am…'
What should he do?
There was love, and there were the people.
He didn't want to lose either.
But why, how could it be—
Why did reality demand a choice?
"Your Highness…?"
When she worried over him again, Callios turned his gaze to her.
'Ah…'
Such a tiny, lovely woman.
And yet—
"...…."
No longer did the future with her look only beautiful.
His stomach felt terrible.
It felt like what he'd eaten might come back up.
The crown prince stood up from his seat.
"…I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry."
He wanted to leave this space.
So he left, and yet the confusion showed no sign of fading.
His throat still felt as if it were burning away.
'I need an answer. I need to find the answer.'
And in Callios's judgment, there was only one person who knew that answer.
His gaze turned toward the mansion on the hill at the outskirts of the capital.
'Yuren Paros.'
He was the one who posed the question, so the answer, too, had to be sought from him.
***
For nearly three days, an unbelievable rumor had been circulating about the Paros mansion.
"Did you hear? The young lord hasn't had a drop of alcohol for three days."
"I heard… Isn't something big happening? And it's not just alcohol! He hasn't even gone outside for three days!"
"Ah, I heard that too! They say the young lord hasn't shouted even once!"
"I-I heard too! The young lord's personal maid said..."
"Emma? Your crush? You still haven't gotten over her?"
"…Anyway, they say the young lord told a maid, 'Thank you.'"
"Hiiik…!"
Reactions poured out as if they'd heard a terrifying ghost story.
Some might say, 'Just that?'—but not the servants of this household.
It couldn't be helped.
Who was Yuren Paros?
If you had to pick the capital's worst scoundrel, he was the unshakable number one—the absolute worst.
The verbal abuse he hurled at servants was routine, and whenever he went out, he often got into brawls or gambled.
His responsibilities as young lord were tossed far away as a matter of course—and his drinking?
He acted like he couldn't live a single day without alcohol.
And that man had changed overnight.
That was what made the servants so uneasy—almost fearful.
Even so, their expressions were bright.
It wasn't because they thought Yuren had come to his senses.
It was simply because his changed behavior had brought back the smile of Cecilia Paros, the acting head of the house—the mistress they served with their hearts.
"They say the young lady has been sleeping well lately."
"They say they saw the young lady smile."
"Emma did?"
"…Anyway, they say she smiled."
Everyone in the household revered Cecilia Paros.
Because she always treated them that way.
If disaster ever struck the family, they would burn their very bodies to save her—that devotion was that immense.
And now she was smiling.
The shadows under her eyes shrank day by day, and she no longer skipped meals.
As that warmed the servants' hearts, they began to hope.
"Ah, I don't know what kind of wind blew, but…"
"If only the young lord would keep acting like this a little longer..."
Please, let Yuren stay quiet a little longer.
"So what's the young lord doing now?"
At someone's question, the man who had a crush on Emma answered.
"They say he's in seclusion. The only time he comes out is to eat with the young lady."
Yuren was in seclusion.
***
Inhale. Exhale.
Each time, mana sweeps through my entire body, cleansing away impurities.
The room is filled with a foul stench.
But even this isn't enough.
I wrapped mana around myself faster, scrubbing out the impurities.
Then, at some point—
Piiing—!
Mana pierced through my spine as it passed.
I stopped my breathing and opened my eyes.
'…Expert.'
It took three days.
Considering what I have, that's a long time.
I have Sword Master–level insight and control of mana.
Thanks to my overzealous older sister from childhood, I grew up swallowing every kind of elixir.
More than anything, a secret technique.
Before the regression, the crown prince taught me the first emperor's [Imperial Swordsmanship], passed down only to direct imperial heirs.
Not just the original—he passed on the final version, including improvements he'd made through his own realizations.
Of course, there wasn't time, and my talent lagged compared to his, so I didn't reach it—but that's another story.
Anyway, with that background, this body should have reached Expert in a single day.
The only reason it didn't was my disgusting lifestyle habits.
'So this is how much booze built up in me.'
Impurities had clogged every mana path.
No wonder my body had felt heavy ever since I regressed.
I'd assumed it was just lack of training, but it was the aftereffects of my habits.
I stretched and stood up.
After wiping off the blackened, hardened impurities with a towel, I opened the window.
"Emma!"
When I called, Emma immediately opened the door and appeared.
Chestnut hair, blue eyes.
A plain vibe, with round eyes as her defining feature.
"Y-yes…!"
"Clean the room. I'll go wash up."
"S-s-should I attend you..."
"No. You're busy too—can I really not wash my own body?"
"?"
Emma's expression twisted in fear.
Her whole body trembled.
'My karma.'
Just how much of an asshole was I?
It makes me feel newly sorry.
Especially to Emma.
'She's capable.'
From the news I heard from my sister in prison, she eventually rose all the way to head maid.
People often said she was sharp.
But because of me, she can't even straighten her shoulders right now.
Shouldn't I treat her well?
I patted Emma's shoulder in praise.
"You've worked hard. Thank you."
"Hiiik!"
Emma shrank back, tears welling up in her eyes.
…That stings.
"…I'll be going."
I hurried out.
As I washed, I organized what I had to do from here on.
'Protect the family.'
The more I thought about it, the colder my chest became.
In my last life, I never managed to unravel it—why did Paros perish in flames?
Why did no one make it out?
'It's strange.'
Even if it was the chaotic early stage of the war, a fire at Paros makes no sense.
The guards the imperial palace assigned to the Paros side alone were around one-fifth of the entire capital's deployment.
And due to Paros's political position, that was an unchanging rule no matter what happened.
That's how tightly security was held in this area.
So why, that day, could no one stop the fire?
No—it's not that they couldn't.
'The nearby guards were all killed too.'
Who hated Paros enough to go that far?
'If there's a bastard like that…'
I'll kill them.
In the most horrible way I know.
My killing intent surged.
Kkrrk!
The bathtub split.
'Ah.'
Damn it.
I ended up scratching my cheek awkwardly.
I don't think I should dwell too deeply on thoughts like that yet.
'My mana still isn't stable. Of course—my body can't keep up with the realizations yet.'
So I'll think about that problem gradually.
I have plenty of time, and as long as I'm here, I'll make sure the same thing never happens again.
More importantly, there was a more urgent problem.
'What do I do?'
What happened a few days ago came back to me.
The moment I regressed, I unloaded a fresh string of insults at the crown prince.
If it were a dream, I'd laugh it off as satisfying—but this is reality.
It's a crime so grave that even execution wouldn't be enough.
'Ah… this is why you have to watch your mouth.'
This damn personality is the problem.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
If it were the future crown prince, I could've said, "Your mom's having an affair with the prime minister," and we'd both laugh it off—but how could the current crown prince be like the future one who'd weathered every storm?
He's in the phase where he's lost all judgment because he's fallen for a commoner girl.
Given how he went on a rampage after being kept away from her, he might already be moving pieces behind the scenes to bury me.
Or he might come after me directly.
'What should I do?'
If I were alone, I'd just run.
Or I'd beat the crown prince to within an inch of his life and run.
But I have something I must do.
I have to make Paros great again, after the disgrace brought by me.
I have to bring back my sister's smile.
'How…'
Just as my worries deepened, I heard Emma's voice.
Knock knock—
–Y-young lord. A guest has arrived.
"Hm? A guest for my sister?"
–N-no, a guest for you, young lord.
Someone came looking for me?
"Who?"
For a moment, silence hung in the air.
Then the answer came.
–…..His Highness the Crown Prince.
"Okay."
So he's coming to crush me head-on.
My heart pounded.
My mind started moving fast.
'A way to avoid execution.'
Or a way to reconcile.
I rose from the bathtub and used mana to blow away the water from my body.
I roughly dried my hair and dressed neatly.
"I'm going."
I strode to the reception room.
The moment I opened the door, I saw him.
I lowered my head in greeting.
"Your Highness."
Callios, looking perfectly put together.
Even seeing him again, I can't help feeling sorry for the future crown prince.
'No, that's not what matters.'
I snapped back to my senses.
The crown prince stared at me with a stiff face, two knights in tow.
If I say the wrong thing here, I'm screwed.
First, apologize.
"I'm sorry about that day."
So…
"…I had a drink."
If I wasn't sober, maybe it won't excuse me, but at least it might reduce the sentence.
It was a desperate attempt at judgment, and in response, the crown prince spoke.
"…Leave us."
He was speaking to the knights.
"But, Your Highness!"
"Leave us. I wish to speak privately."
The knights looked at me as if uneasy.
But the unease didn't seem enough for them to disobey the crown prince's order.
Thud!
They left, and the reception room door closed.
And then—
The crown prince, who had worn a stiff expression until then,
"Can you stop pretending to be a scoundrel now?"
He gave a weak little snort of laughter and said that out of nowhere.
"?"
What the hell is he talking about?