“The Vildhjärta? Oh, you mean the Chasseur?”
Still struggling to keep up, Kanalayka put her chin in her hand and pondered.
“I know,” she said at last. “Let’s go see Izai about it. We’ll probably be able to use the imperial facilities, seeing as how it’s for the Vildhjärta.”
“Great. Thanks a lot.”
Ras breathed a sigh of relief. It took no small sum to keep a Chasseur in good working order, especially a custom model. That was precisely why noblemen and -women used them as symbols of their house’s prestige. Luckily, members of Central Command and the Imperial Guard received stipends for this purpose. Even that might not be enough for a model like the Vildhjärta, but Izai would surely be able to make it work.
“The only other problem is what to do with her,” muttered Ras, glancing at the beastfolk girl beside him, who seemed raring to play.
“I see what you mean,” said Kanalayka. “People might start to talk if they see him—I mean, her—following you around.”
Kanalayka cast her eyes downward. It didn’t look like she had any brilliant ideas, either. Just then a third voice joined the discussion.
“Why don’t you just let Shishka look after her?”
Fiarca entered the room. She was lightly dressed, wearing only a nightgown over her underwear.
“Y-Your Highness! You can’t go around looking like that!” cried Kanalayka. “You’re not even wearing your disguise!”
Even in the crown prince’s private quarters, it wasn’t unthinkable that someone might come in, and if they did, Fiarca’s secret would be out.
The imperial princess was surprisingly pale. In response to Kanalayka’s words, she only shook her head.
“I’m sorry, Kanalayka, could I ask you to be quiet? I was with Fon Cigel last night, and I think we drank a little too much.”
“Not you as well, Your Highness.”
Kanalayka looked up at the ceiling in disbelief.
“So what did you mean by having Shishka take care of the Vildhjärta?”
“Hmm… First things first, it’s a little confusing having the girl’s name be the same as the Chasseur, isn’t it?”
Ras walked over to a sofa and lazily plopped himself down on it. “You’re right,” he said, looking at the girl in question.
The silver-haired princess smiled. “In that case, Ras, you’d better come up with a name for her, hadn’t you?”
“A name?!”
The beastfolk girl looked up, a look of pure excitement on her face. Her animal ears twitched expectantly.
“You want me to give her a name?” asked Ras with an displeased grimace.
“Well, you’re the Vildhjärta’s new owner, aren’t you?” replied Fiarca without a care.
“Urgh. Where to begin…,” muttered Ras, scratching his head. “What does the name Vildhjärta mean anyway?”
“It’s ancient Telosian,” Fiarca replied. “It roughly translates to ‘wild heart.’”
“Wild heart, eh?”
Ras was a little impressed by how well the name suited the jet-black Chasseur.
“Then how about Koko?” he suggested. “Kokoro is too long for me.”
“Koko! My name’s Koko!”
The girl’s eyes lit up, and her tail began wagging side to side swiftly. Fiarca and Kanalayka both looked a little unimpressed by Ras’s complete lack of imagination, choosing a word that literally meant “heart,” but they clammed up upon seeing the girl’s reaction.
“Well, as long as she likes it, that’s all that matters,” said Fiarca, wearing an unconvincing smile. “In that case, Koko can stay here and learn to be a palace servant. If we just say she’s from Nerasta, nobody will suspect a thing.”
“I see, the Urungul Dynasty, eh?”
Ras nodded, convinced. The continent of Nerasta was far to the west of Argyll, across the Orange Ocean. Urungul was located at its eastern tip, and as a result, it saw active trade with the Argyll Empire. It was also known to boast a comparatively high population of the demi-human hybrids known collectively as beastfolk. In fact, the current ruler of the dynasty, as well as most of the high-ranking nobles, were all beastfolk, and they visited the empire frequently. With a little effort, it wouldn’t be difficult to pretend Koko was one of their daughters or something.
“I feel like she looks a little young to be doing that, though,” Kanalayka remarked. It wasn’t strange for nobles to send their sons and daughters to foreign countries to study, but usually only once they came of age.
“Why don’t we say she’s a prodigal priestess?” said Fiarca. It was common knowledge that the palace was gathering healers from across the realm, no matter what their background, in an attempt to care for the ailing emperor. Some of them were even as young as Koko’s appearance suggested.
“I see, that would give her an excuse to be seen coming and going from the noble residences as well,” said Kanalayka, convinced.
“It might make Ras’s reputation even worse, though,” suggested Fiarca with a snicker.
“Why can’t we just leave her with Izai?” asked Ras, a little annoyed.
“It’s better to keep her close to your side in case there’s an emergency,” said Fiarca. “She’s able to control the chassis over long distances, right?”
“Yes, I can!” answered Koko. “Should I bring it here now?”
Both Ras’s and Kanalayka’s eyes shot wide open. It would cause quite a stir for a Chasseur to suddenly land in the middle of the imperial palace. It wouldn’t only be Ras’s job on the line; most likely, the entire Imperial Guard would be disbanded for such a flagrant breach of security.
However, Fiarca responded cheerfully. “Not yet,” she said. “Wait for Ras’s orders first.”
“Okay! I’ll wait until Master tells me to!”
The young girl smiled. The whole exchange drilled into Ras once more that she was a Chasseur at heart, not a human. She had no concept of right and wrong, only what her master ordered.
Ras’s head began to ache as he thought once more about what a troublesome Chasseur he’d inherited. Having a Chasseur that could activate by itself and come straight to its master’s side was a powerful boon, but it also had the potential to cause untold disaster.
“There you have it, Shishka. The girl’s in your care now.”
“Understood, Your Highness.”
Even this strange turn of events wasn’t enough to faze the ever-loyal servant girl, Shishka Klamina. She simply bowed her head and acquiesced.
“First, we shall have to find you some fresh clothing,” she said. “Come with me, Koko.”
“Master’s the only one who can order me around.”
“I see. That is a shame. I was hoping to give you a treat afterward.”
“A treat?! I’ll do it!”
Ras and Kanalayka were both a little taken aback at how little persuasion it had taken to change the girl’s mind. Could she even eat sweets in the first place? By every metric, the Vildhjärta was shaping up to be a rather odd Chasseur.
“I think I’m starting to understand why Fon sealed you beneath the imperial catacombs,” said Ras, sighing. He had been wondering why Fon parted so easily with such a powerful Chasseur, but he couldn’t blame her now.
“Still,” said Fiarca, rising to her feet and adopting a serious look, “everything’s in order now. A Guardian of Silver without their own custom Chasseur is a national embarrassment. We can finally start preparing for the next step.”
“The next step?” asked Ras.
“Surely you haven’t forgotten why you were brought here,” Fiarca replied.
“Right. To seduce the princess of Charlgia,” Ras muttered. The look on his face said he didn’t want to be reminded.
“There’s only twenty-two days left before the Shrumland Alliance summit begins,” Fiarca went on. “I will be arriving a week before the start date, but several of my ministers have departed for Charlgia already. Even some of the citizens are on their way as we speak. Merchants and mercenaries and the like.”
“Wherever people gather, money flows,” said Ras. “There’s no way a canny merchant is going to miss an opportunity like that.”
There were four signatories to the Shrumland Alliance: the Kingdom of Charlgia, the Darrol Republic, the Grand Duchy of Agarte, and the Argyll Empire. The summit was to host dignitaries from these four nations, plus their respective teams of bureaucrats and security details. In addition to that, merchants from all across the continent would be closing in on the summit to capitalize. It would undoubtedly be a busy day for the organizers.
“It’s not all bad. All those foreign traders boost the economy of the host country quite considerably,” said Fiarca. “The main problem is that a group of assassins from inside the empire intends to infiltrate the event alongside them.”
“Assassins?!”
“Is that true, Your Highness?!”
Both Ras and Kanalayka cried out in surprise. Fiarca nodded gravely and continued.
“This information comes from a fairly reliable source.”
“Are they trying to prevent your marriage to Princess Tishna?” Ras asked.
“Maybe, maybe not. But that is their most likely motive, yes.”
The princess spoke coldly and calmly, in spite of the fact it was her own life on the line.
Not everyone was happy with the crown prince’s arranged marriage. In fact, a fair few voices opposed it. For example, domestic noblemen who’d planned to marry off their own daughters to Prince Auriol and increase their own influence, or foreign agents who wanted to sabotage the growing relationship between the nations of Argyll and Charlgia.
It would come as no surprise if some of those voices felt so strongly about the matter that they were prepared to resort to drastic measures, and of course it wasn’t only Princess Tishna who had to worry about becoming the target of a political assassination; the marriage could be halted just as easily by taking out Crown Prince Auriol—in other words, Princess Fiarca.
However, if Fiarca was assassinated, that would most likely remain a domestic issue for the Argyll Empire. The same could not be said for Princess Tishna’s case. If an Argyllian faction killed the royal princess for their own ends, that would cause further strife between the two nations.
“Which is why I’m asking you to take care of them for me, Ras. If Princess Tishna is killed, all our careful planning will go to waste. Not to mention the war that could result.”
There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in Fiarca’s voice. Ras could scarcely believe she was as hungover as he was. He looked up at the ceiling with dead eyes.
“No rest for the wicked, eh?” he muttered.