When I reached my office, Cynthia and Kulgan were already waiting.
Zeno had returned as well, and after a brief report, I understood the situation. Summoning everyone at once would have drawn too much attention from the Seahealby attendants stationed around the palace. He had therefore called only these two first.
Kulgan, who normally assisted me with administrative work, had already been in the room, so in truth, only Cynthia had been summoned. As for the others—
The guard captain could be brought in naturally during the evening shift change, when he would assume duty as my personal escort. Milma could be contacted discreetly through Cynthia or summoned in the middle of the night if needed.
All things considered, this was the most inconspicuous arrangement.
As for Bard, well, that should be obvious.
Reliable though he might be, subtlety was not among his strengths. It was best to leave him uninformed for now. On the bright side, even without being briefed, he would act correctly if anything happened; that, at least, I could trust.
“That’s the situation,” I concluded, finishing my account. “For the time being, please act as naturally as possible, but keep an eye on Tia. Don’t let anything or anyone suspicious near her.”
I told them everything Prince Ramtak had said, every absurd word, because I trusted this small circle completely, and because they needed to know.
As for the matter of the Saintess, I explained that Ramtak didn’t actually know the truth. The so-called guardian serpent he had seen was in fact a mid-rank water spirit with two heads who had taken a liking to Bertia but had not formed a contract with her. The spirit had developed an attachment after tasting the Japanese sake she’d brewed, and I planned to use that fondness as leverage to secure its cooperation when the time came.
I also made it clear that Prince Ramtak would be destroyed, but in due time and with precision.
What I didn’t mention was that the two-headed serpent causing rumors around the palace, the beloved “Futamata-chan,” was the same spirit.
Most of the people in my inner circle, Bertia’s close friends included, already knew that Kuro and Zeno were spirits, so there was no danger of them misunderstanding. Even so, admitting that Bertia had nicknamed Seahealby’s revered guardian spirit “Futamata” felt a bit delicate.
“I see. The so-called Serpent God, being a mid-rank water spirit, certainly makes a lot more sense,” Kulgan said after hearing everything, nodding in comprehension.
Then his tone hardened. “Still, Prince Ramtak’s behavior is beyond insolent.”
Cynthia’s smile was as serene as ever, but the air behind her shimmered with restrained fury, like heat rising from molten metal.
“I agree completely,” she said, her tone sweet, her words anything but.
Beside her, Kulgan’s lips curved in a polite grin. Yet the air behind him crackled with cold, the temperature in the office seeming to drop several degrees. It was as if a blizzard had begun to stir in his shadow.
Ah, I thought wryly. So that’s what I must have looked like earlier.
Before I could say anything, Zeno muttered from my side, “With all due respect, Your Highness, your aura was far, far worse than this.”
I blinked. Worse than that?
If that was true, I would definitely need to be careful not to face Bertia until I’d calmed down. The last thing I wanted was to frighten her.
“Anyway,” I said, folding my hands on the desk, “I already have several strategies in mind. I’ll need your cooperation to put them in motion. Above all, your priority is Bertia’s safety. Never, under any circumstances, allow her to be alone with Prince Ramtak. Limit her time alone as much as possible.”
Both Cynthia and Kulgan straightened in unison. “Leave it to us!”
Their voices rang in perfect harmony. Seeing that, a quiet relief unfurled in my chest.
There had been a time when I thought relying on others was a waste of time, that entrusting tasks to anyone less capable than myself only slowed things down. But now, having comrades like these beside me was a strength beyond measure.
“As for Ramtak,” I continued, “I’ll be informing Milma and the guard captain of the situation as well. However, I don’t plan to tell the captain anything about the Saintess or the Serpent God. Matters of faith are troublesome. If word gets out that Bertia caught the Serpent God’s favor, it could create unnecessary complications. Only those we trust absolutely should know.”
“That would be best,” Kulgan agreed immediately.
“In that case,” Cynthia added lightly, “it would be wiser not to tell Lord Bard, either. He’s a good man, but he does have a habit of speaking too freely. He won’t be offended if we keep this from him.”
I had been wondering how to explain to her why I intended to keep her fiancé uninformed. It seemed there was no need; she had already reached the same conclusion.
Clearly, we were thinking along the same lines.
“In that case,” I said, leaning back slightly, “we’ll finalize our next moves after I’ve spoken with the remaining members—”
BANG!
I’d barely finished outlining my plan to crush Prince Ramtak when the door flew open with violent force.
I snapped my mouth shut and turned to see Bertia standing there, a wreck of tears and fury. Her face was soaked, her expression a raw, blazing thing.
Beside her, Kuro’s tail puffed up like a furious banner as she let out a throaty, threatening “Fushaaa!” The maids—Milma and the others—clustered behind her, wide-eyed and shuffling, helplessly unsure what to do.
Our eyes met, and the dam broke. The flow of tears quickened as if someone had opened a sluice.
“L-L-Lord Cecil! W-What do you mean… you want to leave me?!” she wailed, charging toward me.
She barreled into me with the force of a storm, knocking me to the floor and pinning me beneath her, mounting me with the desperate ferocity of someone who’d been betrayed. Her hands closed on my collar and shook me hard, forward and back. Each jerk sent the back of my head slamming against the floor with small, stinging impacts.