Her shoulders drooped, the corners of her brows slanting down as she looked away, troubled.
Even in her panic earlier, she had mentioned “the force of the scenario.”
Ever since the events of her so-called otome game had finished playing out, she hadn’t brought it up, but the fear still lingered in her heart.
The “force” she spoke of was an invisible compulsion that supposedly tried to restore the world to the state dictated by the story. I’d never once seen proof of such a thing.
True, if we left events untouched, things sometimes drifted toward the path she described, but whenever we took precautions, the future changed easily. There was never any pull strong enough to justify calling it a “force.”
She understood that now. Yet even knowing it, some part of her could not stop fearing it. So, whenever the slightest uncertainty appeared, her mind would whisper, Could this be it again?
“I did some more research after that,” I told her, tightening my hold around her shoulders. “From everything I found, the war that happens in the novel’s storyline is the conflict between our country and a neighboring one. That matter has already been resolved, so there’s no need to worry anymore.”
I paused, watching the tension in her face. “But…”
Her head snapped up. “But?” she echoed, swallowing hard.
“But while I was looking into that. I discovered something else. Prince Ramtak has been plotting some rather unsavory schemes.”
Bertia’s eyes widened in shock. “W-What do you mean?”
I met her gaze and nodded gravely, my expression tightening.
“The war that happens in the novel you mentioned, Tia. The main conflict should be between our kingdom and our neighbor. But that might not be the only battle. There’s a strong chance of Prince Ramtak working behind the scenes, trying to take advantage of the chaos. If a large-scale war had broken out, he could have hidden his smaller skirmishes within it. But now, with no war to use as cover…”
“Then that means Prince Ramtak’s plans are the only ones still moving forward!”
Bertia clasped her hands tightly, her face pale with shock. She had always been a pacifist at heart, sensitive to even the smallest hint of conflict and deeply averse to anything that might bring harm to others. This kind of talk, I realized, must have struck her hard.
“That’s right,” I said softly. “The forces Prince Ramtak can command alone are limited. It’s not as though he could cause the sea itself to rage. Futamata is fond of you, Tia, so I doubt he’d go on a rampage. Still…” My voice lowered further. “The problem lies in whom Ramtak might choose to attack.”
“The person he’d target… D-Don’t tell me it’s Prince Aleis?!”
Her body trembled with fear. I reached out gently and pulled her into a comforting embrace.
“Yes,” I murmured, holding her close. “One of them is Prince Aleis. Ramtak despises him. He’s always been jealous of Aleis’s brilliance. But that’s not all. The other target he’s set his sights on is Princess Lysonna and her homeland.”
“What? N-No! How could that be?! Why would Lady Lysonna or her country be targeted when she came here as a bride?!”
Tears welled in Bertia’s eyes as she protested, her voice breaking. She couldn’t comprehend such cruelty, not when it concerned her friend, the gentle Princess Lysonna.
She was right, of course. It was absurd.
Royal marriages were meant to strengthen bonds between nations, not to turn them into causes of bloodshed.
If they were to wound a foreign royal they’d welcomed and then turn their sights on her motherland, the very point of the marriage would be erased.
Prince Ramtak is so fixated on his own private gain that he either can’t see the larger currents of statecraft or simply doesn’t care to.
“I haven’t fully uncovered his true motives either,” I said, “but I think he’s reasoning along ugly lines: that Princess Lysonna strengthens Crown Prince Aleis’s influence, or that by using Princess Bistona, he can extract information and tip the balance in his favor. He’s likely thinking something like that.”
Bertia bit her lip hard, as though fighting to hold back an explosion of fury.
“Well, whatever his reasoning, we’ve already picked up several reports on what he’s planning. Which means we have to condemn him publicly and decisively before he can act.”
“Condemn him? You mean, make him regret it?” she asked, voice trembling.
“Yeah. Something like that.” I gave a dry smile. “He believes you’re the Saintess, Tia. He thinks that by possessing you, he can expand his power and make his schemes easier to execute. He may even try to involve Futamata in an attack on Princess Lysonna’s homeland.”
“No, no, that’s… that’s monstrous! I absolutely, absolutely refuse! And using Futamata-chan like that is unforgivable!” Bertia’s face flamed red with anger as she shook her head fiercely.
I’d expected nothing less from her.
“I won’t let that happen, and I won’t hand you over. Besides, you’re not the Saintess.” I paused, eyes narrowing. “But he believes you are, and he’s convinced he can claim you. That’s why he wants to make it public that he’s ‘won’ you before you return to Alphasta. And the perfect stage for that would be…”
“The upcoming party! That’s what you mean, isn’t it?” she blurted, realization dawning.
“Exactly.”
Once we returned to Alphasta, no matter how loudly he proclaimed his “love” or his “divine right,” distance would make his voice fade into nothing.
Furthermore, without any concrete proof, most people would probably dismiss the whole thing as “Prince Ramtak being strange again.”
Even if he managed to stir something up, there was every chance that, while we were away, either Bertia or I might change our stance. That was precisely why he wanted to make his move in public, to trap us with witnesses, to create a situation that would be hard to walk back from once it was out in the open.
“The day Prince Ramtak plans to act has already been identified,” I said quietly. “All we need to do is prepare accordingly, then crush him. If we do, we can snuff out the spark of war before it ignites, and Princess Lysonna and her allies will find their positions in Seahealby far more secure.”
“I see…” Bertia murmured. “That makes sense.”
“I’ve also prepared a countermeasure for the whole Saintess business,” I continued. “You’re not the Saintess, and while I’ve not explicitly denied the idea of separating from you, I haven’t affirmed it either. So, if he tries to make a claim at the party, we’ll deny it right there on the spot. That will make Prince Ramtak look like a delusional fool, accusing the Crown Prince and Princess of Alphasta of something completely baseless. No one wants to antagonize Alphasta, so support for him will vanish overnight.”