"Such a noisy pest."
Shichen's bored voice rang through the suddenly silent hall, and a chill ran through everyone.
Not far away, Julius kept his head lowered, face tight, fists clenched—helplessness clouding his eyes.
"Shichen…" Emilia breathed his name.
Shichen let the pressure roll back, then glanced at Emilia with a small smile. "You're okay?"
"Eh?" Emilia blinked, not following.
"I was a bit… heavy-handed. You don't mind?"
"Honestly, what are you saying?" Emilia puffed her cheeks, half-angry. "You did it for my sake—how could I be mad?"
"Doesn't it feel violent? Bloody?"
"Shichen, you really do take me for a child. I'm not going to faint over that."
"Good. That's all I needed."
He turned that smile away from her and toward the crowd now staring at him in fear.
"Don't you feel anything?" he asked suddenly.
Silence answered him. No one knew what he meant.
"No answer?" His brows drew together, annoyed.
"Sir knight of Emilia-sama…" Miklotov ventured carefully.
"Just call me Shichen," he said, looking his way.
"Shichen-sama… what do you mean by that question?" Miklotov asked, choosing his words.
"How can you be this dense? And you still manage to run a kingdom," Shichen sighed.
No one dared retort—even in their hearts. One flash of temper and he'd left Ricard without even a bone; none of them had seen what he did. If that had been only pressure… how terrifying was the reality? What difference was there from killing with a thought? And if he could read minds on top of it—no one wanted to die, much less die without understanding why.
"Fine, I'll be plain: don't you think Emilia is adorable? Those puffed-up cheeks are like little bao buns. Makes you want to poke them."
More silence. A few wondered if they'd misheard.
That was the question?
"Shichen, what are you talking about?" Emilia protested, face bright red.
"I'm just stating facts. You lot keep dragging up the Witch of Envy to smear her—what's wrong with your brains? If she were the Witch of Envy, would you all be sitting here breathing?"
"But I do look like…" Emilia began weakly.
"So what?" Shichen shot back.
"Eh?"
"Plenty of criminals in this world look like people. Should we treat everyone like a criminal because of that?"
"Now you're stretching it…" Emilia murmured.
"You're arguing with me…?" He clutched his chest and put on a wounded look.
"That's not what I—" she said, flustered.
"Kidding." He laughed.
"You're impossible!" she huffed, cheeks puffing again.
Around them, people shifted, uncomfortable at the open flirting.
"See? Isn't she cute?" Shichen asked the room with a smile.
Silence.
His eyes cooled. "Hm?"
"C-c-cute. Very cute!"
"Indeed! I don't know how I never noticed—Emilia-sama is quite lovely."
"I agree."
"Certainly," Miklotov added hastily.
"That's better." Shichen nodded, satisfied. "Her snow-white hair, that porcelain face, those fine features and fair skin—if none of that moves you, are you even men?"
"…," the room said nothing. Emilia's blush crept to the tips of her ears; being praised so baldly in public left her mortified—and secretly delighted.
"Silver-haired half-elf, Witch of Envy's face—so what? If you're going to notice her looks, why not react like normal men? Can't you see how adorable she is?"
The crowd's silence held. Perhaps he had a point—but nobles had their "dignity," and herd habits were hard to break in a speech or two.
"Enough. Let's proceed. And I do not want to hear anyone use her appearance to stir trouble again. Face the consequences if you do. You too, Roswaal—don't think I didn't notice you goading me to act. If I weren't sure it was for Emilia's sake…"
"Ahaha~ So you did notice~" Roswaal chuckled, waving it off. He'd steered the talk to Emilia precisely to let Shichen cut the knot none of them could.
"Sir Reinhard," Miklotov resumed, reclaiming the room. "Continue."
"Yes!"
Reinhard drew breath. "We lack the means for absolute confirmation; one might call it coincidence… However—however, to call what fits so well 'mere coincidence'—I balk at that."
"What do you mean?"
"Fate's guidance," Reinhard said simply.
"I see…" Miklotov frowned, then swept the hall with a scowl. "None of you noticed? Even now, faced with Felt-sama? If you cannot, question your loyalty to the crown."
Eyes turned to Felt.
"What's different about her…?"
"She's young. At that age she should be studying, not— Wait! Golden hair and red eyes—?!"
At last, someone named the obvious. Shock rippled through the civil ranks—hard to accept. Golden hair and crimson eyes were the dominant traits of Lugunica's royal blood. But the royal line had supposedly perished six months ago; that was why no one had looked closely.
"Do you remember the incident in the palace fourteen years ago?" Reinhard asked evenly.
"Sir Reinhard, you can't mean…?"
"Yes. Fourteen years ago, thieves breached the castle. The king's brother Flugel-sama's daughter was abducted, and the thieves escaped. The princess' whereabouts were lost."
It was a scandal never meant to reach outside the halls, but everyone here knew.
"No! That leap is absurd. Fourteen years missing, the princess falls to the capital's slums and just happens to be found by you? And coincidentally she's priestess-qualified? Too neat by half!"
"Do you accuse me of the low trick of dyeing hair and altering eye color with magic?" Reinhard asked dryly.
"I said no such—"
"I stake my sword," Reinhard cut him off, laying the Dragon Sword at his feet in the most solemn vow of the knightly code.
The official had no words left.
"With the royal blood vanished, we have no way to prove a tie," he muttered. "Hypothesis cannot make all bow."
"Of course. But I am convinced Felt-sama is fit to inherit the throne—blood or no," Reinhard said.
"Praised as the Sword Saint of this age—and mad as one," someone sighed. The weight of what he implied was clear: regardless of origins, he would support Felt. As a slum child and maybe a lost royal, she would face storms beyond imagining. Perhaps the only one who believed him fully… was Shichen. He knew Reinhard was Story's Favored Son.
"Hold on—hold on! What do you mean, me, a king?" Felt finally caught up. "When did I ever say I wanted the throne?"
"Don't let Reinhard's faith go to waste," Shichen soothed.
"Onii-chan… but I…"
"Didn't you say you wanted to change things? If you're king, you can change everything."
"That…" she wavered.
"Don't worry. With Reinhard behind you, you have nothing to fear."
"But Onii-chan, you…"
"I'll help you, too—so long as it doesn't harm Emilia. If someone bullies you, I'll make it right."
"In that case… it's a promise?" Felt peered up at him.
"Don't you trust me?" Shichen smiled.
"I do! Of course I trust you!" She drew a breath, set her jaw, and faced the dais.
"Got it. I'll be this country's king."
~~~
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