Semi-Coercive Imperialist

──A forest, somewhere unknown. Ancient trees so enormous they blotted out the sky rose in dense clusters, and the stench of rotting grass and the cries of wild beasts echoed eerily through the deep, secluded valley.

“…Wow.”

Someone swallowed dryly and let out a hollow gasp.

“Sebestian really is a monster.”

Codename ‘Aquamarine’. With his boyishly youthful face, he trembled as he recalled the man they had just faced.

“A real monster. A monster among monsters…”

Even the Major, the strongest among them, had been utterly powerless. They had been pushed back without recourse and barely escaped with their lives.

“…Major.”

Aquamarine’s eyes suddenly turned sorrowful as he looked at the corpse sprawled beside him.

“Topaz is dead.”

Topaz, a core member of Zentra, had been killed instantly when a stone Sebestian threw split his head open.

“Personnel can be replenished.”

The Major rolled up his sleeve to check his arm. A mana tattoo running from wrist to heart. However, from their hasty retreat, much of its red glow had been depleted.

His Special Ability was「Logomancy」.

Reality manipulation that interfered with the phenomenal world through spoken words.

The instant before Sebestian’s blade carved them to pieces, he had forcibly teleported himself and his subordinates away with a single word of Logomancy.

But great power always demands a price. The fuel he expended to activate Logomancy was the vital energy of living things. A magic that slaughtered humans, animals, and beasts to extract the life force latent within them, condensing it into blazing red gems, ‘Garnets’, which were then consumed.

Garnets worth hundreds of human lives had been expended because of Sebestian.

And even so, they could not leave a single scratch on him.

“Let’s head back.”

“Yeah. Ah, but man, that ruin… what a waste. We found it first.”

“Can’t be helped.”

The Major gazed toward that place, now impossibly distant.

Over there, Ebenholtz stood.

Though he was a monster who had withdrawn from the battlefield and was slowly aging, he still reached the heavens.

* * *

A dawn where darkness lingered.

I was looking up at the night sky. While I was quietly gazing at the clouds fading far away beyond the horizon and the starlight scattering like mist.

──Thud.

Footsteps approaching from behind pulled me back to reality.

I spoke quietly.

“It is an unfortunate affair.”

His legs stopped.

He called my name in a voice laced with bitter resentment.

“Sir Maximilian Ebenholtz.”

Oswin Mason.

He came and stood beside me.

“…Oliver is an Aran. You can tell just by looking at him.”

I turned to face him. His was the face of a man who still could not let go.

“Appearance is merely a secondary matter. A person of uncertain birth cannot be trusted, and above all, the crime of Mrs. Sara Müller, who concealed the most critical truth, is very grave.”

Sara had known the Genealogy Certificate was meaningless, yet she hid the truth to protect a son who was not her son.

“This case will serve as an example that one must never dare defy the will of the Empire.”

Even if the Genealogy Certificate were genuine, the secret of his birth could easily be traced. Resistance or forgery, therefore, was pointless.

“Even if he is an Aran, you still say this?”

“Well. Whether he is Aran or not remains to be determined. Attend the autopsy when his neck is snapped.”

“How can you even say such a-“

“However.”

I held out a document to him. It was a list of other individuals who had participated in the night school.

“I will release these people.”

Of course, there might be some on this list who were not pure Aran. But at the very least, they were not Ezenheim, so they would no longer be tortured or sentenced to death, but freed. That I promised.

“The condition is that they leave Zestfall.”

“…What’s your reason?”

Oswin’s expression hardened in confusion.

I stated the fundamentals.

“There is no concrete evidence that they spoke out against the「Imperial Citizenship Law」at the night school, or that they engaged in seditious conversations. There is insufficient circumstantial evidence to label them ideological criminals seeking to overthrow the regime, and above all, they are pure Aran citizens of the Empire whose lineage has been thoroughly verified.”

One beast called Ezenheim would be put down, and dozens of innocent young people would be spared and sent home.

“…Do you truly believe this is right?”

Even so, Oswin glared at me with bloodshot eyes.

It was because he was fundamentally a good man. Because even in a world like this, he still believed to the very end in values like human dignity and legal ideals, values that might well be impossible.

“Are you not afraid of history’s judgment, far in the future?”

I gazed at such an Oswin in silence. A faint smile spread across my lips.

“No. I am not afraid.”

I tilted my gaze and stepped closer to Oswin.

“Professor Oswin. Your sense of morality is a shallow thing.”

They might think something like this: that they are righteous people burdened with the duty of their age, standing against unjust power to save the innocent. That they are seekers whose names will be recorded in a single line of history.

“You set aside the countless innocent people dying in this era, and stand in court solely because Oliver is your student. That is why I say so.”

Oswin’s expression wavered.

“And so you are endlessly lacking. You have merely chosen a person for whom you feel sympathy and used them as a means to display your morality.”

They were wrong.

Because they were wrong, humanity had perished.

Their good intentions were nothing more than weakness that would invite a greater evil.

“Then are you, Maximilian, a pure villain?”

Oswin asked me. His voi⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠ce carried far too many tangled emotions.

“Think what you will. I have no interest whatsoever in how the world sees me, or how history records me.”

The world barely looks at me. It sees only the surface.

My true intent is something no one can understand.

“I carry a purpose far heavier than that. And so, whatever stands before it, I simply cut it down.”

I placed my hand on Oswin’s shoulder.

“As guardians of the Empire, as Aran, and above all… as human beings.”

I murmured, staring into Oswin’s aged eyes.

“What must be given up must be given up.”

Smack.

He roughly slapped my hand away.

Then, as though he could not agree with my conviction in the slightest, as though he could not even comprehend it, he simply turned and walked away into the darkness.

It was a natural reaction.

“……”

I watched his retreating figure and sank into thought.

Someday, I would have to cut down with my own hands people as upright as him. In the name of the great ambition of humanity’s survival, I would have to trample their convictions.

“Schatz.”

I called for Schatz. She emerged from somewhere within shadows.

“Yes.”

She, who controlled electromagnetism, could now perfectly assimilate into darkness. A concealment technique that absorbed all light touching her body rather than reflecting it, becoming pitch black.

The exact opposite of the ever-transparent Ebenholtz.

“Monitor everyone who was involved with Oswin and this trial. Move with Leo.”

Leo’s accuracy had improved considerably. He could now reliably distinguish even ‘Subspecies’.

“And.”

Oswin Mason was, of course, not Ezenheim.

But among his followers and colleagues, his students, and the intellectual coalition that shared his ideals and cooperated with him, there would be Ezenheim Subspecies who had wormed their way in by exploiting human goodwill, blending in with perfect naturalness.

Therefore.

“Root them all out.”

Kill them first.

There was nothing more grating than an Ezenheim who knew the law.

“Yes. It will be done.”

* * *

The Special Imperial Guard Unit’s temporary headquarters.

“Well, well. Thanks to you, I even get one of these delivered. Appreciate it.”

Lieutenant Colonel Lorenz tapped the document with his finger and let out a scoffing laugh. It was a summons order that had come directly from Maximilian.

“You go.”

Lorenz tossed the paper at Captain Hans with a flick.

“Oliver or Olivin or Olive Oil or whatever the hell his name is. You’re the one who hauled that bastard in, and this is the mess you made, so take responsibility and report to that knight prick yourself, with your own damn mouth.”

Hans. The Guard member who had led the raid on Oliver’s night school.

“And don’t you dare bring up my name. I don’t know a damn thing.”

“……”

“Answer me! You son of a bitch.”

“…Yes. Understood.”

He bit his lip, but he could not disobey a superior’s order.

“Get the hell out.”

He turned and moved with heavy steps.

Walking out through the empty corridor, he arrived at Maximilian’s office in a state of dread.

“Captain Hans Mecken.”

Maximilian called his name.

“Yes.”

Hans braced himself for disciplinary action. No, perhaps something worse.

If it was just losing his position, that would be manageable. As long as he kept his head attached-

“Raise your head. Anyone can make a mistake.”

“…Yes?”

He questioned back before he could stop himself. Maximilian’s opening words were that far from what he’d expected, and Maximilian continued in a rather gentle voice.

“However, when enforcing the laws of the Empire, it is important that all matters be handled with exacting precision, without a single margin of error.”

He slid a single document toward the frozen Hans.

“In other words, you must have at least this degree of evidence firmly in hand.”

The document Han⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠s cautiously accepted contained the hospital medical records of Sara Müller, Oliver Müller’s mother.

‘Miscarriage.’

That one word alone was puzzling, but.

“It was an adoption.”

In that instant, Hans’s eyes went wide as saucers.

“Th-then.”

“The Genealogy Certificate was genuine, but the birth registration itself was forged.”

Maximilian smiled with composure and lifted his teacup.

“Th-then.”

Looking back and forth between Maximilian sipping his black tea and the document, Hans asked cautiously.

“Did you, Sir, did you find this record yourself?”

Clink. Maximilian set his teacup down.

“This「Imperial Citizenship Law」must be enforced in a manner that is entirely proper, for the sake of the Empire’s Aran.”

He raised his eyebrows and added in a low voice.

“Can it be that you, entrusted with such an important role, would trip and fall over a single mistake?”

…Was this grace? Or mercy? In any case, it meant he had personally conducted an additional investigation on their behalf and uncovered this evidence.

Hans struggled to steady his trembling legs.

Maximilian spoke.

“Oliver will be executed. The trial will be handled quietly.”

“Ah, ah, th-then, we are…”

Hans swallowed blankly.

“Just do better next time. But there will be no second chance.”

“Th-thank you!”

Hans belatedly grasped the full meaning of everything he had said.

“Thank you!”

He bowed so deeply his head nearly touched his feet, shouting again.

“Thank you!”

Maximilian gazed down at him, very nearly prostrate.

Just so. I need more of such livestock. For the greater cause, I need hunting dogs willing to carry out the necessary evils in my stead.

A dog with strong opinions like Lorenz would need to be cut loose eventually, but one obedient enough like this one was worth raising.

“You may go now.”

“Yes, yes! Thank you!”

Hans left the office with the face of a man brought back from the dead.

…….

Sara Müller’s confession caused an uproar in the courtroom. The falsified birth registration itself constituted a grave violation of the 「Imperial Citizenship Law」, and it was a crime more serious than mere document forgery that corrupted Aran bloodlines, so Oliver Müller was sentenced to death within a single day.

The ex⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠ecution was scheduled for the very next day after the sentencing.

“Please prepare, everyone.”

Sonnet Kandel was present in the execution chamber of the Imperial prison as an observer and attending physician.

“The execution will now proceed.”

Michael Oliver Müller. The man who had once been a friend stood with a hood pulled over his head. The weather stretching out behind him was clear.

Despite it being winter, the sky was impossibly, pristinely blue, without a single speck.

Suddenly, memories from long ago bloomed softly in Sonnet’s mind. Days from the past, from childhood, surfaced.

Not on an execution platform like that, but atop the teacher’s small desk, a boy climbing up to adjust the lights, dust off the surfaces, diligently helping to clean.

A shy child who always studied with clear, bright eyes but could barely utter a single word.

“……”

Sonnet shook her head and brushed away those fragment-like memories.

“Execution, ready.”

The executioner spoke. Oliver and roughly a dozen other condemned prisoners stepped onto the trapdoors simultaneously.

“Execute.”

At that single word, bang!

The trapdoors opened.

──Crack-crack-crack!

Thick ropes stretched taut, snapping their necks.

──Snap! Crunch!

Bodies went limp as cervical spines broke. The sounds of bones shattering echoed one after another.

Amid the chilling noise, Sonnet observed them. She watched death.

“Execution complete.”

At the guard’s words, she moved belatedly, as a physician. She pressed her fingers to Oliver’s limp neck.

“Michael Oliver.”

She looked at him growing cold and rigid, and picked up her chart.

“December 24th, 10:37 AM. Death confirmed.”

She recorded the time of death. The executioner took her chart and jerked his chin toward the rear door.

“Let’s proceed directly to the autopsy room.”

A mandatory procedure, established even before the「Imperial Citizenship Law」had taken effect, to accurately classify and record the race and bloodline of executed prisoners.

Sonnet headed there.

…….

A space adrift with the smell of cold alcohol and the hot scent of flesh. The autopsy room, where scalpels parted skin and saw blades crushed bone.

Beyond the transparent wall, Professor Oswin Mason, who had been specially permitted to observe, stood watching.

Sonnet picked up a scalpel.

Ssshhk.

She opened Oliver’s bleeding chest, removed the sternum, and inspected the heart within, which had ceased its beating in a deep red.

“……”

The size of the heart was confir⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠med. Its shape, bordering on deformity, was confirmed.

It was not an Aran’s.

It was the heart of a Subspecies.

Moreover, Oliver had been a magic scholar who had trained a fairly advanced level of mana, so the patterns of mana corruption etched into his cardiac vessels and muscles were far more grotesque than those of a typical Subspecies.

Sonnet lifted the heart. She looked at Oswin beyond the glass. Oswin’s gaze, too, was fixed on the heart.

He was a mage who had lived his entire life alongside mana, so there was no way he did not know what this meant.

“…A Subspecies after all. The heart is particularly revolting-looking.”

Beside her, a military physician belonging to the Guard smirked with a snide grin. Sonnet was about to place the heart back into the thoracic cavity.

“Ah. Wait, you can’t do that. Subspecies hearts must be separately excised and collected.”

Sonnet was curious about the reason but did not ask. She simply set the heart down and left the autopsy room.

The prison’s break room.

“…The heart.”

Sonnet stood there looking at her own hands. Clenching and unclenching them, still feeling the sensation of the heart, when Oswin approached and sat across from her.

Sonnet asked him.

“Professor. How is Mrs. Sara Müller?”

“…She’s resting.”

“I see.”

Sonnet poured black tea from a thermos. She stirred it quietly with a spoon, gazing out the window.

Before she knew it, the blizzard was raging again.

“It’s a marvel the Imperial Guards kept her alive. They must have surely felt they were deceived.”

At those words, Oswin smiled bitterly.

“They nearly took her. They actually came for her. But.”

At that moment, a single document sent by a certain knight had halted the Guard’s enforcement.

“Because she had raised him as her own son for her entire life, her legal status as kin was recognized, and therefore, under the Kinship Exception, she would not be charged for concealing the criminal’s evidence as his mother…”

“I see.”

Sonnet drank her tea. Oswin, still mired in confusion, clutched at his hair.

“In any case, that’s how it turned out, so don’t worry about Sara. There are many students who survived thanks to her. They will look after her in Oliver’s place…”

Oswin’s words could not continue. He pressed his trembling lips tightly shut and lowered his face.

Drip. Drip.

The professor, now well into middle age, was shedding tears.

The sobs that escaped him were not so different from those of a child.

When people cry or laugh with all their heart, it seems even adults revert to children.

“Hngh… hk…”

“……”

Sonnet watched him without emotion. She had no particular thoughts.

Ah, the professor is crying.

He cries well.

“Professor.”

For Sonnet, there was si⁠⁠⁠‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠‌⁠‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌⁠‌‌‌‍⁠‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌‌⁠‌⁠‌⁠⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠‌⁠⁠‌‌‌⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠‌⁠⁠mply a reality she needed to convey.

“His Majesty the Emperor is very pleased with the resolution of the Zestfall incident.”

Oliver’s execution and the other matters had been a joy to the Emperor.

She lifted the warm cup of black tea and brought it to her lips.

“Also, Maximilian’s movements regarding Zestfall are concerning.”

She drew an envelope from her coat’s inner pocket and set it quietly on the table.

“Plane tickets.”

She looked at Oswin and offered her advice.

“It would be in your best interest to go stay in Canilan for a while.”

Whoooosh──

The blizzard, now grown fierce, rattled the prison windows.

Sonnet suddenly thought that it resembled Maximilian.

“……”

Oswin turned his gaze to look at the same place she was looking.

Perhaps he, too, was thinking the same thing.