"Fairness?"
Miklotov looked at Emilia, perplexed.
"Yes."
Emilia nodded lightly; her face was earnest. "As a half-elf, I share traits with the Witch, so people treat me with prejudice. But to wipe out all possibility on that basis alone—I absolutely can't accept that!"
"So, Emilia-sama—you're asking to be treated on equal footing with the other candidates in the royal selection?" Miklotov confirmed.
"Mhm." Emilia pressed a hand to her chest, her expression reflective.
In the past she'd endured countless malice for no reason other than her appearance. Now, with Shichen's support, she no longer feared others' eyes, but she still refused to be treated differently because of her identity.
She glanced at Shichen and spoke, voice steady: "Fairness is extremely precious to me, so I ask only that. Fair treatment. I will never seize the throne with the spirit I've contracted as a shield—that would be unfair."
"Emilia-sama, that request puts you at a disadvantage," Miklotov pointed out.
"I know."
Her face didn't change. "Compared to the other candidates, I fall short in many ways. I'm not mature enough; there's much I don't know and much I must learn… Even so, because I know the goal is at the summit, I've never thought of relaxing."
"…"
Silence settled over the hall. None could say if her words were true, but the stance she showed—the conviction she expressed—moved them.
Emilia continued: "Whether my efforts are worthy of the throne is yet unknown. But the resolve to keep striving—that is more right than anything. I won't lose to the others in this. So please look at me fairly. Look at Emilia, the girl with no family name—neither the Witch of Frost nor the silver-haired half-elf. Look at me."
Her tone beseeched, but the will inside it was strong and unshakable.
Shichen watched her gently. Like this, she was so easy to love—especially up close, to see her as she was.
He made no move; he didn't need to. Her conviction was already reaching everyone.
The hush deepened as they waited, breath held, for an answer. At last, one of the Sages let out a long breath.
"Emilia-sama, my opinion remains unchanged. Your appearance will readily call the Witch of Envy to mind; without doubt, it leaves a poor impression among the people. In the royal selection that is a disadvantage not easily overcome."
He spoke—and, almost unconsciously, flicked a glance at Shichen. Seeing no reaction, he quietly exhaled. He was terrified of saying one wrong thing and offending that man. There were already two examples—one still breathing, one decidedly not.
"…" Emilia pressed her lips together and bit down, her expression shadowed.
Shichen reached out and took her hand.
Startled, Emilia looked at him—he only smiled.
"But!"
The man abruptly changed tack. "No one is allowed to tamper with other people's hearts. You cannot decide how others see you. However, I wish to apologize for my discourtesy—no, to beg pardon for my rudeness, Emilia-sama."
He stepped forward, dropped to one knee before her, and offered the highest salute.
"What are you…?" Emilia asked, bewildered.
Head bowed, he said, "With the power you've shown, you could have frozen those who defy you into statues—or erased them outright. Yet you did not, and instead demanded fairness. That is a most noble act."
"Is it?"
Hearing that, joy at being acknowledged bubbled up in Emilia; her lips curved, blooming like a flower.
The man raised his head and, at just that moment, saw her smile—he froze, dazzled.
"Hey. I wouldn't let you catch feelings and get any ideas about Emilia~," Shichen reminded him.
"My apologies…"
The man quickly looked away. "It was a lapse for a moment… It seems Emilia-sama is indeed, as Shichen-sama said, a beautiful young woman."
"Oh? You've got an eye for it. I'll allow you one heartbeat," Shichen said.
"Yes."
"Honestly, Shichen—what are you saying?" Emilia shot him a playful glare.
"Ahem. There's been a bit of turbulence, but that was quite sufficient… Emilia-sama, Roswaal-sama, Shichen-sama—anything to add?" Miklotov cut in, halting their flirting.
"There's much I'd like to say, but that's enough," Emilia replied, knowing when to stop.
"I've nothing to add," Shichen said, shaking his head.
"In that case—Felt-sama, Sir Reinhard: you both intend to participate in the royal selection, may we so judge?" Marcus asked.
Felt couldn't help glancing at Shichen; seeing him nod and smile encouragement, she nodded too. "Yeah. I'm in."
"Yes. I obey my lady's will," Reinhard said calmly.
"Very well. Then we can deem the Five Dragon Priestesses assembled… Any last remarks? If Felt-sama has something to say…"
"Mm…"
Felt did have something to say, but hesitated—she looked to Shichen again, seeking help.
"Don't be afraid," he told her with a smile. "Say what you want. If anyone gives you trouble, I'll back you up."
"Thanks, Onii-chan!" Felt grinned, reassured.
"Shichen… That's my job," Reinhard said helplessly.
"What can I do? She still doesn't trust you," Shichen shrugged.
"At least you are Emilia-sama's knight…"
"My Emilia isn't that petty. She knows my first support is her—and her kindness won't let her ignore it, either."
Emilia didn't answer—only smiled, acknowledging his words. Shichen was already bending the rules, but no one dared call him on it. Unless they had a death wish.
"All right then—there's just one thing I want."
Felt raised one finger, pointing to the ceiling, drawing every eye. Her red irises sparkled.
She took a deep breath, then pointed at the Council of Sages. "I hate nobles."
Then she pointed at the Royal Guard. "I hate knights."
Then she spread her arms wide and tipped her head back. "I hate the kingdom."
At the last, she dropped her hands and swept the room with a bright, brash grin. "I hate everyone in this room and the floor you're standing on. I'm gonna smash it all—so, how about it?"
She looked to Shichen, triumphant.
"What did you just…?!"
"To say such things at a gathering to choose the king?!"
"Then what were our efforts for?!"
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Shichen cut off the uproar with applause, cheering her on.
Felt's smile grew. "Quit your yapping. You can't speak unless you're not included? Your pride and your history are laughable!"
"What?!"
"Hmph! If I become king, I'll break everything; I'll kick down anyone who can't see the floor caving under their feet. The air will be much clearer."
She spoke without restraint, heedless and fearless. Because Shichen backed her, the room could only fume in silence.
Miklotov, however, remained composed; he nodded, even approvingly, and asked Reinhard, "Your liege is a spirited one. Tell me—what do you think when you hear her words?"
"Well… Felt-sama's words are no different from a dream," Reinhard said with a smile.
"You…!" Felt shot him a glare.
"But…"
Reinhard's smile didn't waver. "Someday, they will reach everyone. Until then, giving her my full support is my duty."
"But Felt-sama's declaration includes breaking you as well, doesn't it?"
"After breakage comes renewal. Felt-sama will face that in time. Until then, so long as I can stand by her and support her—I ask no more." Reinhard bowed slightly, resolve firm.
"You really are as trustworthy as Onii-chan says," Felt muttered, pouting a little.
"Yes. I am your partner, my lady."
"Partner… I don't trust you enough yet, but I'll use you properly."
"At your service," Reinhard said, head bowed, his loyalty plain.
Felix scratched his cheek at the exchange, then glanced at Shichen and grinned.