Cattleya broods for a little while, then breaks into a smile. “If you’ll be kind enough to do so again.”

  “Then after you—although this isn’t my castle.”

  Laughing, Cattleya steps through the door.

  The room she’s chosen for their recess is small but tidy. The flowers in the vase by the window appear a bit wilted, but that’s probably because evening is near. Based on their colors, the chairs that face each other across the round, cat-footed table are a set. When he pulls out one of the amber-colored chairs with bright red upholstery, Cattleya slowly lowers herself into it. She may be dressed like a knight, but she’s conducting herself like a perfect lady.

  “I didn’t think you’d be coming to meet us. That startled me,” Claude began.

  “I am the only one in this nation who’s ever met you. I don’t think the fact that I was selected is so surprising.” Her voice is a bit gentler than it was before. She may be switching tones to match her role.

  “It’s been more than a decade since we met in person, though. I didn’t think you’d remember me.”

  “Your beauty isn’t so easily forgotten, Master Claude. It was branded onto my heart as a child. I wondered whether my brother would grow up to be that lovely as well.”

  “…It’s odd for me to say it, but your brother seems to be growing up splendidly. I was relieved to see it.”

  In front of Claude, Cattleya smiles. It isn’t the gallant one she showed him as a girl. There’s a hint of resignation in it; it’s the smile of a grown woman. “Yes, he’s already old enough to marry. I was surprised as well, though. I didn’t expect you to have become emperor or that you’d be married…”

  “All sorts of things happened. I believe that’s true of you as well… Let’s get down to business.”

  Claude turns his left hand so that it’s palm up, and a card materializes on it. As Cattleya’s eyes widen, he turns the card face up and holds it out to her. “This arrived along with the wedding invitation and gifts, addressed specifically to me.”

  Save me from this place.

  “…This was sent to you?” Cattleya frowns.

  Watching her reaction carefully, Claude checks with her. “The sender didn’t give their name. It wasn’t you?”

  “No, not me.”

  “But you’re the only acquaintance I have in Kilvas,” he tells her, echoing the excuse she’d given him a moment earlier.

  Even so, Cattleya shakes her head. “As I said, it wasn’t me. On the contrary, I think it may be a trap.” Claude gives her a questioning look, and she raises her head, facing him squarely. “You’re aware that this nation came to the brink of revolution. What do you think that would mean if, in the middle of all that, I sought the help of the demon king?”

  “I see. So people would think the imperial family of Kilvas really was inviting demons into the country.” Claude strokes the card with an index finger, and it fades, then vanishes. “In that case, we’ll say I never saw this. You don’t have to worry: The only ones who know of this card are myself and Keith—the adviser who was just here.”

  “…Your wife doesn’t know? You mustn’t do that. She’ll suspect you.”

  “My wife is more jealous than one might assume. Not only that, but as you know, she’s pregnant. I can’t have her finding out something unnecessary that will make her embark on some sort of scheme.”

  Claude emits a long sigh. Cattleya stares at him blankly, then giggles. “That sounds quite trying. However, you were disinherited, and yet you’ve still managed to become emperor. Your wife had much to do with that, did she not? I’m told she’s the daughter of a duke and that she was once engaged to your half brother…”

  “That’s right. She was kind enough to switch over to me.” He chuckles quietly.

  Cattleya looks rather appalled. “Don’t tell me you deceived her. You bad man; she’s such a sweet woman.”

  “I am the demon king. Obviously, I’m a bad man. I’m also arrogant enough to think that if you’re really in trouble, I want to help you.” Leaning back in his chair, Claude smiles. “If something’s wrong, tell me. I’d like to do all I can. That includes handling the demons.”

  “…Why would you go that far…?”

  “When I was disinherited, you tried to extend a helping hand and invite me to your country, remember? It’s thanks for that.” That isn’t actually all it is, but he genuinely does want to help her. “I’ve heard that the demons’ offensive has slackened. I intend to do my best to ensure that you never have to set foot on the battlefield as a Valkyrie again.”

  Cattleya looks down at her feet. This is when Keith enters, carrying a tea tray he accepted in the corridor. The sounds of the tea service being set out and of hot water being poured, along with the light fragrance of black tea, soften the stark silence into a simple hush.

  “…Master Claude, where do you suppose the demons came from?” Perhaps she’s feeling wary; Cattleya doesn’t touch her tea.

  “I don’t know.”

  “You aren’t saying that they didn’t come from Ellmeyer or Hausel, then.”

  Claude picks up his teacup and drinks first. He’s acting as her poison taster. “I can assure you that I didn’t send them. However, if it happened before I was born, I can’t speak with any confidence. Frankly, the Queendom of Hausel was shrouded in mystery until the end. The remaining relics vanished before we managed to secure them, to say nothing of the floating palace.”

  “The floating palace did vanish as well, didn’t it…? I’ve heard rumors that it’s actually still in the sky and that the Queendom is thriving.”

  “With all that lost wisdom, conspiracy theories will inevitably run rampant.”

  To be completely accurate, the floating palace has vanished from this world and is currently in the demon realm. A palace that constantly repairs itself is too much for humans to handle. As a result, his father—Luciel, the god of demons—and his father’s wife, Grace, have agreed to be its caretakers until the time is right. It’s a very vague matter, but Baal, the holy king of Ashmael, has given his consent, too.

  This means their two nations are concealing the floating palace, but it certainly isn’t the sort of thing that could be allowed to stay out in the open. It would definitely spark an unnecessary war. Conspiracy theories are preferable.

  “Hausel has definitely fallen, though. People still live on those islands, but the majority have begun to emigrate to other lands. Most of them seem to have headed to Ashmael, but geographically speaking, it’s Ellmeyer’s issue as well. That’s probably true of Kilvas, too,” Claude says.

  “Our climate is harsh, and we haven’t had much trouble with immigration. I would imagine the rumors of revolution kept them away.”

  “Sometimes you’ll be targeted precisely because your situation is unstable. I’ll have to discuss that with your brother.”

  “Diana would probably be a better choice than Vica. I’ll mention it to her, too. She’s fought beyond the wall as a Valkyrie, so she knows what the demons are like.”

  Cattleya must be very close to Diana; she’s even recommended her as a bride for her precious little brother. Claude nods. “I want to hear opinions from those with experience in the field, of course. I’d like to see the wall itself, if possible, and the demons on its other side; could I ask you to show me?”

  “Let’s see. I’ll discuss it with Diana first—”

  A light knock at the door interrupts them. Keith swiftly glances in that direction, but before he can ask who it is, the door opens. When Claude sees the individual who enters, it makes sense to him.

  It’s Vica. Prime Minister Ernst is there as well. Vica nods to them. “Excuse me; I heard you were here. Cattleya, Diana’s calling. She says she needs to talk to you.”

  “She does? You haven’t made her angry again, have you?”

  “Not that I’m aware of, but…”

  It feels strange to Claude to see such a tranquil expression on a face that’s identical to his. Especially when his eyes meet those red ones. Does the other man feel the same way?

  “I’m currently showing Emperor Claude around, though,” Cattleya protests.

  “No, I should be returning to my room,” Claude says diplomatically.

  Claude has completed the minimum of required meetings and greetings. No doubt it would be rude for him to loiter around the castle on the very day he arrives. This nation has suffered from demons, and Claude is the demon king. He’s done nothing to be ashamed of, but he doesn’t want to attract unnecessary suspicion.

  “I can get back if you’ll send a guide with me. Can I trouble you to clean up here?”

  “Of course. Please ask the guard outside to show you the way. Ernst.” Vica glances at Ernst, who promptly steps out of the room. He’s probably calling servants to tidy away their tea things. Even though he’s the prime minster, he’s capable of being meticulously considerate.

  “…I’ll take you up on that, then. Master Claude, I’ll contact you later about the matter we were speaking of.” Cattleya rises to her feet, bows, and leaves, carrying herself briskly to the last.

  “Have you made some sort of promise with my sister?” Settling in the chair Cattleya has just vacated, Vica crosses his legs.

  “Yes.” Claude nods. “I told her I wanted to tour the other side of the wall.”

  “And if I refuse to allow it?”

  Claude blinks.

  However, as Vica rests his elbows on the table, he’s smiling.

  It’s as if there’s a mirror in front of him that isn’t copying his movements. Feeling very strange, Claude chooses his words carefully. “If you do, then of course I’ll refrain. However, I have been requested to do something about the demons as the demon king, and it will mean I’ll be unable to.”

  “…I was joking. I just wanted to see how it felt to say it. I don’t have much of a voice in matters of policy anyway. I’ve been a puppet emperor since I was a child.”

  “You really don’t look like it.”

  Vica’s smile vanishes, and his expression goes blank. For the first time, Claude feels as if he’s facing himself.

  He’s technically received official information regarding Vica, emperor of Kilvas, from his brothers-in-law; mostly from Michael. The previous emperor passed away suddenly, and this boy became emperor at the tender age of ten. His sister, Cattleya, was already a Valkyrie, away on the battlefield. Surrounded by treacherous courtiers, the child became a puppet emperor.

  He has black hair and red eyes, and he wields magic, but he can’t control the demons, and unlike his sister, he doesn’t race across battlefields. Claude heard he’s often thought of as a terribly ominous, albeit physically attractive doll.

  However, he really can’t think of the identical face that’s seated across from him as being like a doll’s now.

  “…You and Ernst may be the only ones who will say that to my face, Big Brother Claude.”

  Claude nearly fumbles his teacup. The indescribable emotion that wells up inside him becomes a blast of wind that rattles the windows. “…‘Big brother’?”

  “If we’re cousins, that isn’t the strangest thing to say, is it?”

  “I see…!”

  How can this be?

  What an unexpected blind spot. The feeling it provokes in Claude is complex in a different way from what he feels when Cedric calls him that.

  “Feel free to call me Brother, Vica.”

  “…Apparently that made you happy. I’m glad,” Vica murmurs, gazing at the abruptly glossy flowers by the window. He seems to know about Claude’s nature. That boosts his score as well.

  “Let’s get down to business: Is anything troubling you, Vica?”

  “You’re kind, aren’t you, Brother Claude. However, instead of me, can I ask you to save my sister?”

  Claude studies him intently. The boy gazes back. He seems to be implying that Claude already knows the answer. Being similar may not always be a good thing. Before Claude can respond, Vica gets to his feet. “I’ll take my leave, then. Ernst.”

  As if he’s been waiting for this, the prime minister peeks into the room from the hall. Vica walks away, signaling that the conversation is over. Claude calls after him: “So it isn’t your wife you want me to save?”

  They aren’t technically married yet, but the other man will know what he means. Vica turns back. “Yes, that’s correct,” he responds briefly. The expression on his face is one Claude has seen in the mirror. Then he leaves, taking Ernst with him. In exchange, the servants who’ve been sent to tidy up enter, as does the guard who’s been waiting to show Claude back to his room.

  “Those two are quite the rogues, aren’t they?” Keith asks the moment Claude steps out into the hall.

  Claude shrugs. “It would be disturbing if he acted spineless with my face, wouldn’t it?”

  There’s no telling what about that is funny, but Keith bursts out laughing. Claude finds it quite rude.

  They’re scheduled to stay in Kilvas for the week surrounding the marriage. The wedding ceremony is the main event, naturally, but there are also soirees and tea parties before and after it, and they have conferences and observation tours scheduled as well. Claude will be handling most of the latter, but Aileen can’t neglect the former. Who should she meet, and what sort of publicity should she attempt to win during that limited time, with those limited chances? Particularly in the world of noblewomen, which Claude isn’t able to enter, she’ll need to choose carefully.

  However, Kilvas doesn’t seem to operate in the fashion to which she is accustomed.

  Music plays beneath the crystal chandeliers, and the dance forms are also quite similar, but the women’s costumes are divided equally between splendid dresses and knights’ uniforms. Considering the fact that some of the women in ball gowns are from other countries, it almost appears as if more women in Kilvas are Valkyries than not.

  She may have chosen the right approach. Behind her open fan, Aileen narrows her eyes. Her husband, who’s holding her hand, murmurs quietly, “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine.” She smiles back at him.

  Claude looks Aileen over once from head to toe, then offers his opinion. “…You aren’t your usual self tonight. It’s quite novel. Have you had some sort of change of heart?”

  She expected no less of him: His choice of words is extremely skillful.

  “You don’t like it?”

  “No, that isn’t what I meant. It’s just… I have a terribly bad feeling about it.”

  Once again, this is Claude all over: His instincts are extremely good as well.

  “It’s simply a change of pace.”

  Tonight, Aileen is dressed in pastel colors. If she walks slowly, her skirts drift lightly around her, and the collar is generously ornamented with fine frills. The ribbon that gently gathers the bodice beneath her bosom is made of pearl-adorned lace, giving it the appearance of fairy wings. The heels of her shoes are low, and she’s wearing her hair loose. Although the upturned outer corners of her eyes generally give her a rather aggressive look, they’ve been softened with cosmetics, and her lip rouge is an innocent pale pink. She looks more like a young noblewoman than an empress, and more adorable than beautiful. The image she’s tried to achieve is that of a pampered pet of a woman who’s been extravagantly dressed up.

  She hasn’t worn anything this cute in a long time. Naturally, she’s matching her behavior and every little gesture to her outfit. She’s rather uneasy about it, but Rachel has given it her stamp of approval, confidently declaring, “As long as you don’t revert to your usual self, you’ll be fine.”

  “I thought I’d wear the sort of thing I have very little occasion to wear in Ellmeyer, since I had the chance. It’s less constricting than the usual. And yes, I’ve dressed with my condition in mind.”

  “…You thought up that excuse just now, didn’t you?”

  “Lord Claude, Lady Aileen, are you enjoying yourselves?”

  Although Claude has drawn his handsome eyebrows down to their limit, he swiftly reverts to his usual expression. Nestling modestly into his side, Aileen smiles. “Yes, Lady Cattleya. It’s a lovely soiree. And Lady Diana as well; how do you do?”

  “…Evening,” Diana responds brusquely. She’s wearing a very elegant gown, a lovely thing made with layer upon layer of silk and edged with silver thread. The ensemble’s refinement is emphasized by the fact that the only notable splash of color comes from the small jeweled hair ornament she wears. It actually makes her lack of expression seem mystical.

  “Lady Diana, what a splendid dress.”

  In terms of displaying the sacredness of the Valkyries, it’s a fine costume. Aileen’s compliment is genuine.

  Diana gazes back at her. “You are adorable as well. Those clothes suit you.”

  “Thank you very much, Lady Diana. Lady Cattleya, you haven’t changed yet?”

  There are more braids on her shoulders and more tassels on her cape, but she’s dressed as a knight. Cattleya sets a hand on her chest. “I am Diana and Vica’s guard, so I will stay like this.”

  “That’s a pity. I’d been looking forward to seeing your gown…”

  “You do like dresses, don’t you, Lady Aileen.” Diana says pointedly.

  “Yes, I love makeup and dresses both. I can’t wait for the wedding, either.”

  Diana shrugs, and Cattleya forces a smile. “I’m planning to wear a dress for the ceremony. I’m not sure whether it will be to your liking, but…”

  “My, we’ll certainly be looking forward to that. Won’t we, Master Claude.”

  “Y-yes… We will.” Claude nods back awkwardly while Aileen clings to his arm.

  Cattleya’s gaze shifts, and her eyebrows draw together. “Master Claude, is something the matter? Your expression seems stiff.”

  “No… Being surrounded by beautiful women is simply making me nervous.”

  “Gracious, Master Claude. Beautiful? I’m quite childish; I can’t hold a candle to these two.” Aileen blushes and giggles behind her fan. Her husband looks as if someone has shoved the most foul-tasting object in the world into his mouth. However, he prudently says nothing; he just opts to look at anything other than his wife.