Amaryllis took a deep breath. Twice was enough for making a pathetic spectacle. Being mocked was more than enough by now. She closed her eyes and repeated to herself.
She was of Impel's noble bloodline, the sole surviving member of the royal family. The time to be caught up in foolish sentiments had long passed. Rather than letting past mistakes and painful memories hold her back, she had to strive not to repeat them. After soothing herself thus dozens of times, her pounding heart calmed a little.
She gazed into the mirror. A woman with a pale complexion looked back at her. The blue hair and eyes that called to mind deep waters were familiar sights she had always seen. Through that watery hue, she had always repeated to herself. Of her bloodline and her duty.
She had vowed this countless times in her heart, yet she wondered what use it all was if she could not speak even a single short word with her own voice. Amaryllis recalled Larksper, who had treated her like a complete fool. He was an arrogant man, but she could hardly say she failed to understand the reason he acted as he did.
Her lips moved. It was not that she did not know how to speak, so forming the shapes of letters with her lips was not difficult. What was difficult was putting force behind the act. Her desire to speak was as fierce as a chimney fire, yet strangely she could not make a sound. Her throat felt as though something were blocking it.
Moving her lips several times, Amaryllis bit her molars hard and lowered her gaze. This was not something to practice while looking in a mirror. What was lacking was herself. She knew that better than anyone. Herself, who would freeze up like a fool when standing before someone.
"Your Highness the Princess."
Maranta's reflection appeared in the mirror. The expression on Maranta's face as she stared at Amaryllis from behind was quite stiff. Perhaps she had realized what Amaryllis was doing now.
This was not the first time Maranta had seen Amaryllis in such a state. Amaryllis frowned. It was not that she particularly wanted to hide it from Maranta anew, but revealing such a pathetic side was hardly pleasant.
"Your Highness, are you all right?"
Amaryllis showed no reaction to Maranta's cautious question. She lowered her gaze. Pathetic. At that self-reproach, depression welled up from deep within. Sensing Amaryllis's state, Maranta drew near with a worried expression.
"It has barely been a day since you left the Spire. You will recover soon. So please do not worry."
Even at Maranta's words, Amaryllis did not relax her expression. She had already made a spectacle of herself twice. Would a third time be hard? A fourth?
Perhaps merely keeping her grip on her sanity was so difficult that she might not even consider opening her mouth. How long would they stand by and watch such a sight? What they needed was not a mute princess trembling before people.
Seeing the deep sorrow in the princess's eyes, Maranta gently took her hand. At the touch of Maranta's warm hand, her mind cleared somewhat.
"Your Highness is no longer the young Lady Maril. Opening your mouth, facing strangers—you will soon grow accustomed to it. It is not difficult."
Maranta knelt directly before Amaryllis and looked up at her. That figure reminded her of a certain day long ago.
Amaryllis grasped Maranta's hand tightly. Maranta had had these very eyes on the day after the Queen had hanged herself. She had held tightly to Amaryllis's hand and comforted her when the princess had shunned people and closed her mouth. Even when ordered to leave, she had simply shaken her head and remained by the princess's side.
The young Amaryllis, who had held back tears time and again while witnessing her family's deaths one after another, had finally taken Maranta's hand and sobbed her heart out.
"Princess Amaryllis."
The young self of eleven was no more. Back then, she could flee to the Spire, but not now. She had grown enough to understand that much. Maranta continued in a gentle voice.
"Your Highness is a more excellent person than anyone. I, who have served Your Highness for half a lifetime, know that better than anyone. So please do not be impatient."
Amaryllis bit her lip. Her pale, bloodless lips were so frail she looked as though she might collapse at any moment. Having swallowed dryly, she lowered her eyes. Thick eyelashes fell, veiling her melancholy. Her tightly sealed lips slowly moved.
"...Yes, Maranta."
In time, she would be able to open her mouth even before others who were not Maranta, without difficulty.
⚔
Chapter 2
Hisnoear Is Dangerous
* * *
The carriage prepared in advance looked more flimsy than expected. At most, it seemed it would be packed tight with just two people. Her only memory of carriages was the luxury one she had ridden as a child, so Amaryllis was a bit shocked by its shabby exterior. She had not ridden in such a small carriage even when entering the Spire.
To Amaryllis, who looked at the carriage with bewildered eyes, Larksper said something nonsensical in a dry voice: that she should be grateful they had secured a carriage with a roof. If Rodante had not quickly approached and provided a proper explanation, Amaryllis would have truly misunderstood greatly.
"The public order in Hisnoear is quite poor. Though armed soldiers are escorting us, they are not numerous, so to avoid drawing attention, we have no choice but to convey you in such a carriage."
Having lived only in the tower, she could not readily grasp the "quite poor public order." When she had headed for the Spire, there had not even been walls built to separate Hisnoear from Hisear, nor had the economy been so bad that protests demanding food broke out.
Moreover, the port of Naisin, where the ship carrying her had anchored, looked perfectly fine on the outside. But according to Rodante, all of this was but a glossy apricot. Amaryllis felt somehow suffocated and tugged her hood down. To think that even boarding a carriage required such caution.
Perhaps because they were mindful that she had fainted the day before, the soldiers stood at a distance. She did not know what Rodante had told them, but the soldiers waited with their gazes lowered as much as possible. Of course, he could not stop them from sneaking glances. Even so, it was far more bearable than receiving burdensome stares from a crowd.
Amaryllis, too, sneaked glances at them from within her hood. At most, it was merely rolling her eyes, so it would not show outwardly. Fortunately, the soldiers did not seem to feel aversion at the princess's cautious posture. Amaryllis turned to Rodante.
[I heard the capital could not be retaken. What is the destination?]
Thanks to the notepad and pen Maranta had procured for her, which were convenient to carry, she could ask questions whenever she wished. Rodante, checking the princess's notepad, answered in a kind voice.
"There are several Discreti bases. If it is one of those places, it is relatively safe, so I believe you may join the rest of the party there and receive a report on the situation."
[Surely they have not changed the names of all the cities in ten years.]
"Ah, forgive me. The destination is Chern. We plan to pass through Colmin."
Amaryllis recalled Chern's location without difficulty. It was a city situated in the northern borderlands of Charlesman. And as she remembered, that place had been under the autonomous rule of the House of Fields. It was a steadfast house that had inherited the position of Margrave for generations, yet it had not involved itself much in central affairs. They had rarely come to the capital, so Amaryllis had seen Count Fields's face only after the war broke out.
In her memory, Count Fields remained as one who had fought for the royal family until the very end. If it was a place under their rule, even Hisbia would not have been able to easily wield power there. It was not a bad place for Discreti to use as a base.
[I understood the Margrave lost his life in battle. Who has succeeded the family now?]
Come to think of it, she had heard that the second young lord of the House of Fields was quite capable.
Amaryllis recalled the second young lord of the House of Fields, whose face she did not know. Though it had been a rumor, since it had come from her older brother's mouth, it would not have been baseless. Rodante, who had been quietly watching Amaryllis's notepad, furrowed his brow with troubled eyes. The hesitant man answered cautiously.
"...Only Countess Fields survived and is keeping the manor. She provided great assistance when Discreti was establishing itself. Even though she could have entered Hisear, she remained in Hisnoear to prepare a base for Discreti."
Strength entered Amaryllis's closed lips. Having paused in thought without boarding the carriage, she suddenly gestured toward Maranta. Then she quickly wielded her pen on the notepad to give some instruction. Larksper, who had already mounted his horse, glared at her as if to say they should depart at once, but the princess paid his gaze no heed whatsoever.
At Amaryllis's instruction, Maranta's expression darkened slightly. She said something in a low voice, but judging by the princess shaking her head, it seemed she had refused all of it.
In the end, Maranta approached Rodante with a somewhat displeased expression. Maranta, wearing a cold expression, relayed the words in a blunt tone.
"Her Highness the Princess invites you to board the carriage together."
Rodante, who had been about to find his own horse and mount, opened his eyes wide.
"Me, Your Highness?"
"Yes. Her Highness wishes to hear of the nation's situation in the carriage during the journey."
Rodante's gaze turned to Amaryllis, who stood behind Maranta. Amaryllis glanced at Rodante and then promptly strode to the carriage alone. At the sight of her climbing aboard, gathering her skirt without anyone escorting her, Rodante rushed over in alarm.
Having boarded the carriage quite nimbly, she seated herself inside. Then she beckoned to Rodante, who stood there stupidly.
"But how could I..."
Amaryllis narrowed her brow at the sight of Rodante mumbling. She made a circle with her hand and tapped the seat beside her. Maranta had already squeezed herself into the seat next to the coachman's box. At his reluctance to board despite her having made a place for him, Amaryllis picked up her pen. She wrote down some words and held it up so the content was clearly visible.
[Is sharing a seat so repulsive to you?]
Rodante waved his hands.
"It is not that. Strictly speaking, Sir Larksper is the one leading this party. Would it not be proper for Sir Larksper to make the report as well..."
Moreover, the very situation of sitting side by side with the princess was tremendously burdensome. Unlike the insolent Larksper, Rodante possessed an extremely Impel-noble-like way of thinking.
At the very moment Rodante was cautiously trying to persuade Amaryllis, Larksper—who had uncannily sensed that he was being discussed—spurred his horse and approached the carriage. While Amaryllis and Rodante were conversing, he had already readied the soldiers.
Larksper thrust his horse's head between the two and turned to look at Rodante.
"Let us wrap up the conversation. We must depart now. Will Sir Rodante not mount his horse?"
"I believe I must explain the current situation to Her Highness the Princess."
Larksper sharply turned his head to look at the carriage with its door open. Since Amaryllis was aboard the carriage, the height difference between her and Larksper on horseback was not great. Amaryllis stared at Larksper fixedly.
"Must you hear that right now? In any case, once we arrive, those who wish to say even a word will scramble to explain."
[If you mean to keep delaying me thus, I shall take it as a command to simply follow orders.]
Larksper, confirming the sentence Amaryllis had written, ruffled his hair in irritation.
"That is not... Ha. Very well. What is it you wish to know?"
Bickering was out of the question. Having confirmed that the princess had not the slightest intention of bending her will, he reined in his anger as if doing her a favor. Yes, she had come outside after ten years; she must have many questions. He tried to understand Amaryllis.
In truth, his honest feeling was that she could not do anything immediately anyway, so what was the hurry. Considering her protest that she could not speak, not think, it seemed the princess felt some sense of responsibility... but Larksper still found the princess unreliable and displeasing.
However, as she said, he was merely in the position of an escort. Moreover, they were in circumstances where they had to move forward together with the same goal; there was no need to take a confrontational stance. If she was curious, there was nothing he could not answer. Admirably, Larksper soothed his own temper and waited for Amaryllis's reply. She wrote on expressionlessly.
[As we can sufficiently converse in writing even while moving, I shall board the carriage with Sir Rodante.]
Rodante, who had been sneakily approaching and peering at them, happened to see that sentence and opened his mouth.
"But it would be better to hear it from Sir Larksper—"
[Sir Rodante.]
Rodante, seeing the princess's pen move immediately, closed his mouth.
[I have chosen you, Sir. It seems our conversation will proceed more smoothly.]
Honestly, it did seem that way. Rolling his eyes to gauge Larksper's complexion, Rodante stealthily boarded the carriage. Though Rodante's build was on the slender side, he was still a man; sitting side by side in the narrow carriage would likely be uncomfortable. However, Amaryllis simply made room for him impassively. Thanks to that, Rodante, who had been showing hesitation, boarded and promptly closed the door.
And Larksper, confirming the carriage door closing before his eyes, grimaced with displeasure. He had been about to indulge her, but now the princess was saying she could not communicate with him?
In fact, Rodante could probably explain the princess's questions in more detail and more kindly than Larksper. Larksper acknowledged that as well, but separate from that, feeling bad was feeling bad. He spurred his horse roughly forward.
Truly, an obstinate princess for no good reason.