“That’s right, and it’s not your lifespan that will be used.”
Because the main character of this play is already decided. Dioles smiled softly as she said that. Although it was clearly a smiling face, a dangerous aura that they could never disobey was also felt. Dua and other painting wizards lowered their heads even further as a sign of submission.
“But you have a role to play, too, and when the time comes and I give the signal, you will summon a portrait.”
Dioles continued her explanation with a satisfied glow in her eyes as she looked at Dua.
“It doesn’t have to last very long. Just long enough for it to greet and smile for the citizens.”
“Understood…”
“If you all combine your efforts to bring it out, each of you will lose only a small amount of life force. Don’t choose a sacrificial lamb; work together. I’ll send the portrait as the time approaches.”
This was an order. An absolute command, with no room for refusal. The painting wizards held their breath until the princess left the annex.
* * *
Outside the annex stood a familiar knight.
“Your Highness. I’ve come as your escort knight, as per your command.”
“Welcome, Dame Ziontin.”
Tall height and broad shoulders. Short cropped hair and pale blue, expressionless eyes.
But underneath that hard exterior, Dioles knew very well how soft the inside of Ziontin was.
“Let’s take a walk, shall we?”
There were so many people to meet today.
Dioles took a moment to gather her thoughts and walked down the path with Ziontin. Ziontin, who was not inclined to initiate conversation, made for an ideal companion for contemplation. Dioles savored the scenic, forest-like path, then casually dropped a remark as though it was an afterthought.
“You received a fine sword recently, didn’t you?”
“Ah, yes. Indeed, I did.”
The Trachian sword, which initially was in Titania’s hands, ended up in Zontin’s hands. It was only a few days ago that Dioles noticed it. She could no longer feel the sword’s aura on Titania, having found a new owner.
Dioles stopped in front of a shrubbery of pure white flowers.
“I’d like to borrow it for a bit.”
“Pardon?
It was improper to question royalty, but Ziontin was caught off guard enough to forget decorum. Dioles folded the corners of her eyes, smiled gently, and touched the flower petals.
“I’m just going to borrow it for a moment. I’ll give it back.”
“Ah… All right.”
“Not now, though. Later, when I ask for it in the future.”
Ziontin looked puzzled, but like the loyal knight that she is, she didn’t voice her curiosity.
When your master wished for something, you provided it; that was the knight’s duty. Thanks to that, it actually became easier for Dioles to obtain the sword.
“I asked you here to discuss this matter because a letter might get intercepted.”
“Who would dare intercept a letter from Your Highness?”
Ziontin furrowed her eyebrows grimly, as if she were about to draw her sword at any moment.
“Who knows? However, there was this child I was rather fond of who got petulant because I wasn’t giving them more affection.”
“…Quite immature.”
“Still, she’s adorable, though, and it’s not often someone piques my interest as much.”
Dioles was in a really good mood. It’s been a while since she’s had to be busy like this. From when they were in the desert, where she noticed the prince and Peridot getting closer, Dioles was picturing this situation today.
It’s a game where the outcome is predetermined in her favor, but it is fun because the opponent challenges her with all their might. Perhaps it would even help her achieve her goal in the end.
Ziontin did not continue to speak but remained silently behind the princess, who was admiring the flowers. She didn’t even wonder how Dioles knew she had received a good sword as a gift. Because in her mind, Dioles Terran was an all-knowing figure.
“Her Royal Highness. There is an urgent letter from Archduke Schweiden.”
“Give it to me.”
A moment later.
A maid came trotting along the path they were on. Dioles had a happy expression on her face as she opened the seal of the letter with the crest of the Archduke Schweiden. It could very well contain the news she’d been hoping for.
And the moment she read the content written in handwriting that pretended to be composed but failed to hide the sender’s excitement. The corners of Dioles’ mouth turned upward in a gentle curve.
“Ziontin. Titania is pregnant.”
“… Pardon?”
“She’s expecting a child. Already three months along.”
Despite her calm appearance, Ziontin was taken aback, far more so than at the mention of the sword earlier.
“Pregnant, you said?”
That reckless, headstrong woman is pregnant. She’s going to be a mom?
“… … .”
Ziontin could hardly believe it. Her past words of “milk-skinned” and all that cheering still echoed in her ears.
“Ziontin, wouldn’t you like to prepare a nice gift for her?”
Dioles dangled the bait. Ziontin had a soft spot for children—and for expectant mothers.
“… I would like to give her a nice gift.”
“Then we have a deal. Let’s go to my palace to pick out a gift.”
Dioles would borrow the Trachian sword, and Ziontin would acquire a gift too grand for a knight’s salary.
‘I should give something really precious and good. Afterall, the child is going to suffer as soon as it is born.’
If her intuition was correct, the child would receive blessings but also endure struggles. Dioles mentally ran through a list of potential gifts that could protect the child’s life, though she already knew what she’d choose.
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