Fiarca noticed the warm smile that came to Ras’s lips unbidden. “You love him, don’t you?” she said, puffing out her cheeks. “You always have.”
“I wouldn’t put it like that.”
“But it’s true. You respected him more than anyone else. That’s why you broke contact after you thought I died; because you didn’t want to break that image of him. Auriol was perfect, unshakable, and it would ruin all that if you saw him crying over the sister he allowed to die.”
“Maybe you’re right,” said Ras awkwardly. He hadn’t realized it until Fiarca had pointed it out, but it was true. Fiarca’s death alone couldn’t make Ras abandon his best friend, no matter how much it hurt. Avoiding Auriol wouldn’t bring her back. The real reason he went into hiding was because he couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t hate the man if the two met again. Just like Fiarca said, he was afraid of reality not living up to the Auriol in his mind.
“You don’t need to worry,” said Fiarca kindly. “Right up until the end, he was the brother you knew and loved.”
It was the truth. With one bold move, Auriol had secured his nation’s future and saved his sister’s life. There was no end more fitting for a man so uniquely remarkable.
“I just wish he didn’t have to die,” uttered Ras. He stared at the headstone bearing a name that didn’t belong. Within the heavy stone tomb, Ras almost felt he could see the blue-eyed boy smiling, his final joke to the world accomplished.
“You don’t have to blame yourself, Ras. It’s not your fault.”
Fiarca sighed.
“And it’s not mine, either.” She shrugged. “Auriol chose me to survive because I have a duty to this country. As much as I hate that way of thinking.”
“If you hate it so much, why did you do it? Why did you dress up as Auriol and take on his duties?”
“Well, I couldn’t just leave the empire in somebody else’s hands, could I? They’d do a miserable job of managing it. I’d turn my back for a month or two, and the whole realm would be on fire.”
“…You could have said something like ‘Because I love my people’ or whatever,” said Ras with a sly smirk.
She was right, though. Ras couldn’t deny the princess’s pride was warranted. The task of guiding her country couldn’t have fallen to a better person.
“You need more than cheap platitudes like that to run a nation,” said Fiarca, grinning. Then turning to him, she added, “And on that note, Ras, the moment someone is fit to sit on the throne in my place, I want to leave.”
“You mean…you want to abdicate?”
“I’m thinking of quitting the imperial family and becoming a commoner. Once Princess Tishna bears a child, our empire will have a clear successor again. After that, it won’t matter where I go, will it?”
Fiarca spoke as though what she was saying wasn’t earth-shatteringly absurd. Ras could only stare back at her in silence.
She was pretending to be her dead brother and entering into marriage with a foreign princess. Even if Princess Tishna agreed to cooperate, it was only a matter of time before the truth came out. Fiarca knew that. That was why she came up with a plan B for if she needed to make herself scarce. If a child was born with a strong claim to the imperial throne, then Fiarca could fake her own death and retire from public life forever.
“But who’s going to run the empire after you’re gone?” asked Ras. “Even if there’s an heir, it’ll be a long time before he’s suited to sit on the throne.”
“I’ll ask Princess Tishna to do it,” Fiarca replied. “It’s common practice for the emperor’s consort to take over if he dies. And she’ll have you and the prime minister helping her, so she won’t be able to do too much damage.”
“And what will you do if it turns out Princess Tishna isn’t someone you want to leave the empire’s future with?”
“Then I’ll marry someone else and have you get her pregnant, too.”
“Get her pregnant? I seem to recall agreeing to seduce a princess, not have a child with her.”
“Obviously you need to have a child with her,” said Fiarca. “The whole point is that we need a legitimate heir.”
“So that was the plan all along? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?!”
Ras glowered at Fiarca. Her whole scheme had been predicated on Princess Tishna producing a legitimate successor. Logistically speaking, only Ras had the necessary equipment for that part.
“Your grandmother was the little sister of the previous emperor,” Fiarca explained. “So any child of yours will have imperial blood in their veins. You don’t have to worry on that front. Besides, what’s a few more adulterous relationships at this point, Stallion? I’m willing to overlook it out of the goodness of my heart.”
Listening to her sarcastic tone, Ras finally understood. For all her talk, Fiarca didn’t want to have to send Ras to be with other women. In fact, she probably still bore a grudge over Ras visiting brothels so often while he thought she was dead.
Ever since the pair’s academy days, Fiarca had been just as capable of jealousy as any other woman, and that was unlikely to have changed in the years since. Ras could sense as much from the displeased tone Fiarca was doing her best to hide.
However, it wasn’t worth pressing the issue further, so Ras changed the subject.
“What did you bring me here for, Fi? I’m guessing it wasn’t just to tell me all this.”
Fiarca raised her eyebrows, surprised.
“You mean you figured it out already?”
“You never were the type to visit graves.”
“How rude. You make it sound like I have no respect for the dead,” Fiarca objected. “But as it happens, there is something else I wanted to do while I was down here.”
“And that is?”
“Have you forgotten already? The emperor bestowed you a Chasseur.”
When Fiarca said that, Ras suddenly remembered. He had been granted a custom model as a reward for slaying the Greater Dragon two years ago.
“The Chasseurs of the imperial family are stored beneath this mausoleum, away from prying eyes,” explained Fiarca. “Some of them have rather…uncomfortable pasts.”
Fiarca turned and stared deeper into the passageway. Seeing the tense look on her face, Ras couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy.