PROLOGUE
AS A KING AND AS A FATHER
In his office in Viatris Castle in the capital of Nirvaan, King Oswald listened to a report from his chief secretary. “Is there any new information about the disappearance of the 11th army platoon?” he asked.
The chief secretary was the primary consul working under the prime minister. As Platina did not have a vice prime minister, he was the next bureaucrat in power after the prime minister to advise the king.
“I’m terribly sorry,” the chief secretary responded. “We’ve been investigating the cause and circumstances as quickly as possible, but we still have no clue.”
“I see. Report to me the instant you find something.”
Oswald groaned, holding a quill pen in hand as he listened to the report. The other day, the army’s 11th platoon, which had been training near the border, had mysteriously vanished. Such a large group had never disappeared like this before; it was an unprecedented case. Though an urgent investigation had been conducted, the results didn’t seem promising.
“Also,” the chief secretary continued, “there was another skirmish between the citizens and guards in the town of Jord, near the border.”
“Again?” After a pause, Oswald ordered, “Have someone spy on the citizens’ movements.”
“Understood.” The chief secretary bowed before taking his leave. Oswald let out a long sigh as his quill pen danced over parchment. From mass vanishings to skirmishes, there were many unsettling events that had been occurring in the country lately.
Just then, there was a knock on the door. Without pausing his work, Oswald gave permission to enter. The door opened, and a woman in a dress stepped inside. “Pardon me, Your Majesty,” she greeted.
The woman’s eyes widened slightly as her gaze settled on Oswald whose relief was palpable when he saw the familiar woman with deep indigo hair and gray eyes.
“Ah, Cordelica. It’s you.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt you when you’re busy. Thank you for your hard work,” the woman—Cordelica—said. Oswald was surprised that the second queen consort would visit him at such an early hour, when the sun had just risen.
“This is the duty of a king,” he replied. “What are you doing here so early?”
After a slight hesitation, Cordelica answered, “I came to give you a report on Rocheford’s behavior.”
At those words, Oswald almost dropped his quill pen. He’d been aware of Rocheford’s behavior—shouting and lashing out at irregular intervals—ever since yesterday’s commotion.
“Has something happened to him?” he asked.
“No. He finally calmed down in the early hours of the morning. Now he’s sleeping peacefully. I just thought to inform you of that.”
“I see.” Oswald breathed a sigh of relief. After Rocheford had lost his mother, Oswald’s consorts—Cordelica included—had been the ones to care for him.
After the queen had passed, her duties had been split between Cordelica, the second queen, and Oswald’s other queen consort. He knew how busy the women kept. In addition, the third queen was sickly. Oswald was grateful to Cordelica for making the time to check on Rocheford every day.
“Thanks for always looking after him,” Oswald continued.
“Not at all. It’s partially my fault that he turned out that way. If I’d confronted him more…”
“It’s not your fault. All the blame can be laid on my shoulders.”
“Your Majesty…”
A subtle moment of silence fell upon them. It was true that Oswald and the queen consorts had been too busy with their royal duties to pay Rocheford much attention. But it was pointless to wish after the fact that they had done things differently back then.
“By the way, Your Majesty, Sirius doesn’t seem to be here today,” Cordelica pointed out.
“Ah, he’s accompanying Tuvalu to the Filiaregis manor to deliver messages to the duke and Drossell.” Oswald had entrusted the letters he’d written last night to Sirius first thing that morning. He might have already reached the manor as they spoke.
“Oh my. You’re going to see Miss Drossell?”
“Of course. She was a major participant in the incident that occurred, so I must hear her version of the events in detail.” Saying this, Oswald glanced at a stack of papers on his document-covered desk which were clearly written on a different quality of paper than the rest. It was a regular report that Tuvalu had submitted when he visited earlier that morning.
Oswald had been ordering research into that “power” for many years, but he knew from the reports that a lack of information had put the study on hold for the past year. He didn’t believe that the power, which had already once been lost with almost all of its references burned, could be brought back so easily. But he was hoping that the power Drossell had shown at the academy could be the solution he needed.
On the other hand, she was played a role in bringing about Rocheford’s current situation. He couldn’t tell Cordelica of his hopes for Drossell.
“Your Majesty, how should we deal with Rocheford?” Cordelica asked, interrupting Oswald’s train of thought. He had yet to punish Rocheford, who had caused the monstrous riot earlier. His quill pen paused, his eyes lowering as he slowly put it down.
“He took the relic out of his own self-interest, plus he caused a great deal of damage to the academy. I don’t plan on letting him off scot-free.”
“Your Majesty…”
Now, it was highly unlikely that Rocheford would be able to inherit the throne. Which meant that he would have to summon the second and third princes, who were out of the country, back home.
Cordelica gave Oswald a wistful look as he sank deeper into his seat, but she didn’t say anything. Picking up his quill pen once more, he returned to his paperwork, putting an end to the discussion.
“Then I’ll excuse myself,” Cordelia said. “Please make a choice you won’t regret.” She smiled anxiously at Oswald, who didn’t look up from his documents. When the heavy sound of the door closing finally echoed in the room, he let out a small sigh and stood to face the window that had been at his back.
“She can see right through me…”
Cordelica had likely noticed that he’d forcefully brought an end to the discussion. Despite that, she hadn’t said a word. “I’m too lenient,” he murmured mournfully.
As the king, he had to choose a suitable punishment for Rocheford, but his personal feelings kept him from doing so. He had thought that telling Rocheford he didn’t expect anything from him and giving him that girl were in Rocheford’s best interests, but it had all stunningly backfired on him.
“I’m sure it won’t be long now,” Oswald murmured quietly while looking out the window at the royal capital’s cityscape and the vast scenery behind it. “I promise to make this country a good one.”
That was what Oswald longed for most as its king, and it was also a promise he had made to the woman who had trusted him and given up her life. The woman he loved most. Slipping his right hand into his pocket, his fingers brushed against hard, cold metal.
“Josephina…” Conjuring an image of the crown prince’s late mother in his mind’s eye, Oswald’s hand clenched around the pendant in his pocket.