When I’d freed Elmer, I’d begun distantly considering the question. When I’d intimidated Carlos, I’d accepted the answer and steeled myself for it. When the story of the novel began—when I met the protagonists—how would I behave?
Exactly as written.
This encounter was a key plot point in the novel. It would lead to the heroes meeting Elmer’s family, House Kisch, and forming new connections within the kingdom. If I avoided them and let them slip on by, they might still meet the Kisch family anyway. But what if the king somehow found out about them first? Simply put, they’d be crushed before they could muster up their strength. For the sake of everything that would follow, I needed to play the villain here and reproduce the events of the original novel.
I’d already put on a performance like this with Carlos, but this time, I didn’t want to let things deviate from the story in the slightest. Rather than let Heinreid’s memories carry me, I decided to lean on my memory of the novel itself.
It’s all right. I can do this. I’m going to see it through.
“Y-Your Grace...” one of the soldiers whimpered.
So please, guys, don’t give me those scared looks. I know you can’t help it, but I’m about to say some pretty awful stuff. If you’re already that panicked, your nerves won’t hold out.
I gave a long, pointed sigh. “I see you’ve disgraced yourselves in battle against a pair of children. Do you not recall my words? In my duchy, those who cannot serve their purpose are unfit to live. Fools who fail to heed their lord’s warnings have been cropping up more and more of late—how disappointing that you should be among their number...”
“W-We—! Perish the thought, Your Grace!”
“We shall always do as you command, Your Grace!”
I smacked my iron whip against the ground with a horrible clash. The effect was just as profound here as it had been with Carlos. A terrified hush immediately spread over the soldiers and their excuses, like ripples through water.
“Silence! Who granted you leave to speak? You may plead for your lives all you wish in my dungeons—and after that, you’ll never speak again.”
I’m lying, though.
I’d already been planning to gradually lay off all of Heinreid’s guards and soldiers, and I definitely wasn’t about to fill the dungeons back up. But the soldiers, utterly unaware of that, all trembled in fear at my words.
I’m sorry, guys. Really.
Amid the silence, the boy spoke up. “‘Your Grace’... Are you Duke Heinreid von Rodvelia, then?”
I slowly lifted my gaze from the soldiers to him and cocked my head in thought. “For a rat to address me by name is rather an insult... However, your face is familiar to me. Go on, then. Announce yourself.”
“I’m Sighart Amagis Lansbury. My brother— No, all of you have had your way for too long, and I’m here to take back my country!”
Framed by his wild red hair, a pair of blue eyes fixed themselves on me. The boy who’d introduced himself as Sighart was unmistakably the protagonist of Sig the Rebel. Despite the book’s title, he was usually a kind and gentle boy with a strong sense of justice—the hero who would become this kingdom’s savior.
“And I am Natasha Mokhia Siczek. I’m here as Sig’s right hand.”
Next to Sig was a girl with long brown hair, golden eyes, and an elegant and refined demeanor. This girl, Natasha, was the heroine of the novel. She was the youngest princess of the neighboring kingdom of Mokhia; eight years ago, when Sig had been forced to flee Amagis, she’d taken him in and given him shelter in her own country. She’d become deeply enamored of Sig’s fierce resolve to take back his homeland, and in order to support him, she’d studied the blade as well. She was a highly skilled warrior, now known far and wide as “the Lion Princess of Mokhia.”
“How fascinating. So, my liege’s younger brother has returned—and with the Lion Princess of Mokhia in tow. I don’t know how you seduced her to your aid, but indeed, I see now why common soldiers would fail to best you. However... Your country, you say? And you seek to take it back? How absurd. This kingdom was rightfully inherited by my liege, the first heir to the throne. What could you, a mere exile, possibly hope to reclaim?”
Ugh... If only I could’ve been one of the good guys. Then I wouldn’t have to stand here tormenting them and myself with these horrible lines.
The two of them stood there as untarnished beacons of righteousness, and I stared at them in awe. The hero I’d once been enthralled by was glaring furiously at me.
“What on earth did my brother ‘inherit’? Duke Rodvelia, I’ve seen the towns you govern. The fields are barren, and the people cry out as they suffer and languish in poverty. Things weren’t like this when my father was alive! Don’t you feel anything when you see their misery?!”
“Nothing whatsoever. Cattle live so that men may feed on their flesh and blood. Those with power stand above, reveling in their dominance. What could be more obvious? Unlike the fool who preceded him, my liege is a proud and noble man. He will never debase himself as a slave to weaklings who mistakenly believe that they deserve our protection.”
I’m supposed to be smiling while I say that line. But I can’t—my mouth just won’t do it. What the hell is supposed to be fun about this? How can he say these awful things? Heinreid isn’t human at all—he’s a monster.
“Sig, don’t bother.” Natasha shook her head in disgust. “Your words won’t reach men like him. They laugh in the face of sincerity and twist the truth with their arguments, without the slightest intention of heeding the voices of others. Don’t try to reason with him—he’ll only poison you.”
I couldn’t agree with her more. I wasn’t going to listen to Sig—obviously not as Heinreid, and not as myself either. I knew these lines from the novel, and for the sake of the plot, I couldn’t afford to hear him out. Women really were good judges of character.
“But—!” Sig started.
“Hah, how curious. I had thought the Lion Princess a mere barbarian, and yet it seems she’s far the wiser of the pair of you.”
“Shut up,” she shot back. “I just know a liar when I smell one. Stop mocking my Sig with your flimsy delusions and hollow theatrics!”
Hollow theatrics, huh? Well, she’s right—my heart’s not in it at all. Anyway, everything’s still following the outline, so it’s probably fine.
“Such a harsh critic!”
I ad-libbed a taunt, accompanied by an actually theatrical slump of my shoulders. Natasha scowled with revulsion, just as I’d been hoping.