1

The song of nightingales came clear from the apple trees nearby. Yuliana opened her eyes with a gasp and sat up, finding herself in the garden at the base of her tower. Only, she had no memory of how she had gotten there. She sat dazed, looking around, trying to gather her thoughts. By the sun’s position, it appeared to be around noon or a bit after. In other words, she had to have been unconscious for several hours.

What happened?

The princess vaguely recalled waking up to the voice of her Lord. Still drowsy, thinking little of it, she had performed the ritual to summon Aiwesh in her chambers. After that—only light, fluffy warmth, like dancing in the clouds. It wasn’t the first time the Divine spirit had borrowed her body, and as usual, Yuliana herself retained no conscious memory of what transpired during the time. For her, it was no different from sleeping, seeing no dreams, having no awareness, as if in those moments she ceased to exist altogether.

Now, Yuliana was unmistakably alive again, the tidy garden lawn under her, the cerulean sky above.

Yet, at the same time, a sense of restlessness filled her. There was something different about the very air around her. She had a feeling that something terrible had happened. Why had Aiwesh requested to be summoned so suddenly, after keeping completely quiet for all week? Clearly enough, it had not been to free the princess from captivity, seeing how she remained on the palace grounds.

Then why?

The garden looked as peaceful as ever. The city outside the fence was quiet as well, and the Imperial Palace stood before her in its usual splendor. There was no hint of anything out of the ordinary, no cause for her unrest, if not for the melancholic, lonely feeling the wind conveyed. It was supposed to be spring, yet the atmosphere over the city felt more like late autumn instead.

The princess continued to sit in the garden, absorbed in thought, when a pair of maids appeared through the garden gate. In their white uniforms and headpieces, the maids of the palace all looked nearly indistinguishable from one another, but by their faces, Yuliana could tell they were different maids from the ones who had attended to her earlier in the week.

“Your highness,” they stopped before her and greeted the princess in a neutral tone. “You should have informed us if you wished to go outside.”

“Eh?” Yuliana was thrown for a loop, unable to immediately grasp their meaning.

“It was quite unsettling to find your chambers vacant in the morning. Luckily, we were able to keep our heads, and thought to search the nearby areas first, before reporting this to our superiors.”

“Indeed,” the other maid concurred, “we couldn’t have hidden your highness’s disappearance for much longer than this. It was starting to look really, really bad for us. Thank Divines we stumbled upon you by pure accident.”

“Don’t put it like that!” the other scolded her companion. “I just didn’t want to meet the same fate as Miria! I told you that people don’t simply vanish into nothingness for no reason! She was here all along, we just missed her the first time. There was nothing to report, so we made the correct decision.”

“Yes, yes, and had we missed her this time too, crows would be poking the eyes off our corpses by tomorrow morning.”

“Be quiet! It wouldn’t have come to that!”

“Um, I can hear everything you’re saying...” Yuliana pointed out. “I—I just felt I needed some fresh air. The door of the chamber was left unlocked and...I’m sorry if I’ve caused you unnecessary trouble.”

“Trouble? Not at all,” the quirkier of the maids said. “Nearly shat myself out of stress, but that’s normal in this line of business.”

“Come on! Don’t say such crude things to his majesty’s guest! She’s a real princess!”

“What? Even if she’s a princess, she’s still a human being, right? I doubt she cares about me acting like an uptight clown when it’s just the three of us.”

“I do think you could stand to be a tad more professional...” Yuliana voiced her opinion. “Even if I do feel remorseful for causing you trouble.”

As nonchalant as she tried to act, the maids’ words unsettled the princess.

I was away from the palace? What was my Lord doing...?

She couldn’t get the opportunity to question the servants further, however.

“Ah, we have to hurry!” the more sensible of the maids quickly spoke. “Although there was no breakfast served today due to certain...complications in the city, his majesty wished that your highness could join him for a late lunch. We should be on our way.”

“Yes, we should indeed be on our way, since the temple bells have tolled several times since we were sent for the job.”

“Don’t try to guilt-trip her highness, it hasn’t been all that long yet!”

“Can’t I have a bit of payback? I’ve honestly never freaked out this bad before in my life.”

“Um, let us go then...”

Nodding, the princess stood up and let the maids escort her out of the garden.

Yuliana didn’t think she would look at the scenery from the western terrace again very soon, but there it was. The long table of black wood, with only two chairs, and the breathtaking view over the city. And at the northern end of the table sat the Emperor, waiting, quietly sipping tea from a little cup.

“You wished to see me?” Yuliana asked with some caution, taking a seat.

Having been nearly deceived so many times, she could no longer bring down her guard next to that unpredictable man, even for a moment. The Emperor didn’t look quite as fatigued and resigned as he had last night. He was pale and the circles under his eyes had grown darker, yes, but otherwise he appeared to be at peace. Even perhaps a bit dignified. Like a man who resigned to his fate, determined to face the end with his head held high.

But why? What could possibly threaten the most powerful man on the continent, behind these enormous walls of stone, and the armies protecting them?

“I know the feeling is not mutual, but yes,” the man said. “I felt it appropriate to have one last heart-to-heart, since such a time has been graciously given to us.”

“Last?” the princess repeated. “Then you have finally determined me worthless and decided to get rid of me? Is that it?”

The man snorted.

“No,” he shook his head, his eyes closed. “Quite the opposite. It is I, who will soon exit this stage.”

“What are you talking about?” Yuliana frowned in confusion. As little sense as it made, it seemed her earlier impression had been correct. What made him say such absurdities? It appeared like a complete reversal of their roles.

“Tonight,” the Emperor answered, “one way or the other, my life will come to an end. That is what I mean.”

“Why? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I suppose I will fall by the blade of an assassin—such is the script fate has prepared for me. All I can do now is face it. I regret our time together has to end so soon. Just as I regret the way I was compelled to treat you, undeserved. In the end, none of my vile endeavors meant anything at all.”

“I don’t understand,” she repeated.

“In time, you will,” he solemnly insisted.

“So I’ve been told. But I find it more than a little hard to believe at this juncture. I imagine a man of your caliber is well used to danger by now. Why are you so certain that all these fortresses, gates, and guards can’t protect you this one time?”

The Emperor said nothing, only exhaling a sigh with a helpless gesture of his hand.

“...This assassin,” Yuliana eventually continued instead, “it’s Izumi you’re talking about, yes? She was there at the Cathedral. She was after you, you lured her there, to use as a hostage. And yet, Bramms is dead, and she has escaped. Is it her you’re so afraid of? Am I correct?”

Again, the man kept his silence.

“Allow me to speak with her,” the princess offered. “I can stop her. If only I get the chance to see her face to face, I’m sure we can settle this peacefully. No more people must die.”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“Why?” the man finally asked. “Why would you still try to save someone like me, after everything I’ve done to you and your friend? Should you rather not cheer her on, and wish the worst for myself?”

Looking directly at the Emperor, at that tired, middle-aged man, for the first time, Yuliana didn’t see a ruler or an enemy. Only one weak, defeated human, who looked completely unsuited to the splendors of the palace around him. And following that observation, instead of fear or awe, anger or respect, all she felt for him was overwhelming pity.

“Because if you die,” she said, “I will never know the reason why I had to go through this. I can see that easily enough. There is more to you and your goals than I’ve been made to understand. Otherwise, you would not have backed away so easily last night. You’re not an evil man, your majesty. Perhaps you deserve to die, for all you’ve done in your life, but I am not the judge of that, nor do I wish for it. You have kindness in your eyes. There is wisdom in your words. Yet, you force yourself to do evil things, even when it violates against your conscience. You’re a man of many contradictions. You insist it’s all for the good of our world, but I have to wonder—is that really true?”

For some time, the Emperor sat in silence, not meeting her gaze.

Then, right as Yuliana was starting to wonder if he had even been listening, he spoke,

“Do you still remember the story I told you before?”

“About the man of the faithless land?”

“That’s right. I have been thinking about your words all the time since. You told me that the land’s downfall was due to their lack of values, and having no one to protect and uphold said values. Those people had no knights to defend their rights, nor were their rulers wise enough to foresee the danger. Because they did not believe in greater good, the paranoia brought about by their selfishness became their undoing.”

“Is that not the case?”

“No. I’ve concluded that this theory is not entirely accurate.”

“How so?”

“It was not a matter of that land’s people being morally bankrupt. Rather, it was precisely because those people believed in the goodness of the world and their fellow men, that they failed to predict their own ruin.”

“Hm?” Yuliana frowned at his words. “How can that be?”

“Think of it this way,” the Emperor said. “The existence of a ‘knight’ is based on the idea, the conviction, that there exists unforgivable evil in the world. Evil, which must be opposed and exterminated by force, because it is disposed by nature to threaten everything around it. Because unless sufficient force counteracts this evil, it will undermine and ultimately destroy our very way of life. Therefore, an ideal knight is simultaneously people’s protector, as well as their moral compass. Because he must be. His existence is therefore unanimously determined as necessary to our collective good.”

“Yes...?” Yuliana nodded.

“But the land we spoke of had no knights. Because the people deemed such an existence unnecessary. Because they had hope instead. They wholeheartedly believed in the inherent goodness of other people and the possibilities of the future, dismissing the concept of evil as old-fashioned altogether. And it was this groundless belief that betrayed them.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Because evil does exist. This land’s people have the right idea. There are forces out there, human and not, the existence of which cannot—must not—be forgiven. Which must be opposed, or they will destroy us. Upon this realization, my mind was made up. I may not be a knight myself, but I have decided to oppose evil, even if it means my death. I may be powerless to drive out the darkness in the hearts of men, but perhaps it is not the outcome that matters. It’s the fact that I’m willing to try. I have seen that there are still people out there, right here, who will not submit to pain and terror, but who hold onto their beliefs and resist, even at the expense of their own good. And witnessing this has inspired me. Yes, surely this is the only correct path I must take.”

The Emperor stood and bowed his head.

“Your highness,” he said. “Thank you. Whatever happens tonight, I will be forever grateful for these conversations of ours. Your valor has given me the strength to endure the dark days when I felt my spirit was about to break. But I will be a puppet no more, nor will I allow anyone else to sacrifice themselves for this charade. When the time comes, I will stand up for myself. I just wanted you to know that. So that you would remember me not as a monster amid his machinations, but as a man. Goodbye.”

Having said all he intended, the man unceremoniously turned to leave.

“Wait.” Yuliana quickly jumped up from her chair and called after him. “Why can’t you tell me in plain words what all this is about?”

The man briefly paused, glanced at the princess and replied with an almost boyish smirk.

“Because you are only a princess. And I am the Emperor.”

2

Right as Izumi was about to knock on the door, it opened before her. The two halves of engraved brass were drawn out of her way without a sound. There was no one behind to move them, but this was hardly the strangest thing she had seen in her time at the Empire’s capital.

Ahead of her spread the reception hall of Carmelia’s keep, the very same place where the sorceress had given her the quest to slay the sovereign. Already a week had passed since that day, the memory of it regrettably diluted in the wake of the many colorful events since.

At the time, this spacious room with its throne-like chair had seemed unreasonably grand for a mere Court Wizard. However, looking at it again now, Izumi couldn’t help but think it was depressingly plain and lonely for a person, who should have stood at the top of no simple kingdom, but a civilization unlike any other.

Could anyone understand the many sacrifices that person—Caalan Litha Nidh vi Vaniphelia—had made in her long life to end up here?

“What is it?” Carmelia, resting on her modest seat, had covered her features with a dark, transparent veil, like a mourning widow. She didn’t look particularly surprised to see the woman.

“Well...” Izumi stepped awkwardly before the Court Wizard, holding the ancient greatsword in her hands. “I heard the story. And it seems this belongs to you. It may be slightly overdue, but I thought I’d give it back in person.”

For some time, Carmelia said nothing but stared at the woman without much of an expression. Izumi patiently stood still and waited in silence.

“Really, I’d kneel, but my thighs kind of hurt...” Izumi thought to add. “I’m expressing the maximum of respect here, okay.”

The sorceress shut her eyes, looking annoyed.

“You’re right,” she finally said. “The sword is mine by right. Not the only thing I should have inherited from my late father, but perhaps my strongest memory of him. The last one. He carried the blade as we parted ways at the havens of Tar-Elyssae, seven hundred and seventy-six years, one month, and twenty-three days ago.”

“...Ah.” Izumi nodded.

“Did you know?” Carmelia continued. “The name ‘amygla’ comes from an old proverb, meaning ‘a heart firmer than steel’. In other words, unbending will.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Once, held by our King, the sword was the symbol of our race. Unbending will. But since then, that symbol has lost meaning. We became divided. The people and the will to pursue justice went their separate ways. Now, none of us has the right to hold that weapon again. For we forgot what it stands for.”

“I see.”

“...Therefore, I entrust it to you, together with everything else I hold dear, in hopes that it will improve your chances of success tonight. At the end of the day, it is only a weapon, to be used as such. I have no need for it.”

“Okay,” Izumi lightly replied, immediately relaxing her stance. “I’m not going to lie, I was hoping you’d say that. Since it really is a nice sword to have. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of it.”

“Hm.” Carmelia gave her a somewhat disgruntled look. “Here I worried if the burden of responsibility would prove too great for your spirit. Suppose the concern was needless, if you can still fool around like this.”

“Well, I’ve done so many crazy things by this point, getting the jitters now would be kind of weird, I think. All I can do is go out there and give it my best, like any other day. Either it’s enough or it’s not, and worrying about the things you can do nothing about is just a waste of energy. I’m not young enough to stress so much anymore. It gives me wrinkles.”

“Mysteriously, I think some of your words are beginning to make sense to me.”

“I always make sense, it’s other people who don’t understand!” Izumi insisted.

“You may be onto something. Even after knowing you for a week, I am still unsure of whether to call you an underdeveloped, reckless, mindless animal without a hint of sense, or a rare genius among your kind. I suppose it depends on the perspective.”

“Why did the first option get so much heavier emphasis…?” the woman asked. “Oh well. I won’t tell you to mindlessly trust me, but I’m not going to lose either! After all, I still owe you for the kitty act. Until I’ve returned the value of the favor in full, I absolutely won’t fail!”

“Exactly how valuable was that pointless foolery?” Carmelia asked with some confusion. “Don’t you think there are far more precious things to fight for in such a situation?”

“My, my,” Izumi shook her head with an exaggerated sigh. “Lia has lived for so long, and you still don’t know how to listen to your heart? Suppose I knew as much, but it really is shocking.”

“My heart…?”

“That’s right. The fate of the world, the future of mankind, it sounds cool and all, I give you that. But it’s also way too big for one person to grasp. So I won’t even try. I don’t have any beautiful, big ideals to follow. Rather than losing sleep over such complex, manifold matters, you should think more about what’s important to just you, right here and now. It’s something that differs from person to person, and sometimes it can be pretty silly too, but unless you fight only for what truly feels precious to you, then your one and only life is definitely going to waste. That’s all I can say. And my heart is telling me that the cuteness of a beautiful girl is way more precious than any earthly politics or wars or even vengeance. It’s priceless. Yeah, for me, that’s the number one cause driving me on, and I’m sure my conviction is second to none.”

“I take it back, what I said,” Carmelia told her. “You are an unbelievable fool.”

“I got called a fool, gununu...” Izumi hung her head in dejection.

“But...” the sorceress hesitantly continued. “Perhaps it’s the weariness of six thousand years bearing on me, but...somehow, as of late, I have begun to think better of my fallen brother...for being so fond of you humans.”

A bright smile on her lips, Izumi lifted her face.

“Aha! The dere-dere is showing itself!”

“Get out,” the sorceress sighed and gestured for Izumi to leave. “Go with my father’s sword and my prayers. Hold onto whatever is dear to you now, human, be it folly or not. And I hope your beliefs grant you the strength to overcome the coming night. Our darkest hour, our final trial.”