After Rudella had left, Francia shared the conversation she had with her.
“…That’s how it went.”
“Indeed…”
Yohan slowly nodded. Rudella possessed the very things that were most needed by both him and Francia at the moment.
“It’s no wonder Lady Bismarck is so confident in her ability to persuade.”
If there had only been a ledger, it might have been difficult to hold him accountable.
However, the evidence Rudella had gathered included a mana canvas……which captured and recorded moments…..and a magical device capable of recording voices.
Even so, it wasn’t as though the crown prince couldn’t find an escape route entirely. The situation would simply delay him; outright evasion was impossible.
“Evidence like this doesn’t just appear out of nowhere… It seems she’s been preparing for this for quite some time,”
Francia said, stroking her chin with a perplexed expression. She couldn’t help but find it odd. There had been no indication of such plans before her regression.
“…I’m not sure of her exact reasons, but I believe she prepared this as a way to keep him in check,” Yohan murmured.
Francia tilted her head.
“Keep him in check?”
“Yes.”
Yohan fixed his gaze on Francia’s crimson eyes and continued.
“He is someone destined to become the sun of the empire, but he’s also unpredictable. To properly control someone like that, you need plenty of leverage.”
Even if the crown prince had been given a flawless public image, it wouldn’t have been enough to deceive someone like Rudella.
If it was her, she would have had a clear understanding of what kind of person Fedelian truly was. That’s why she must have been observing him carefully and collecting evidence in preparation for an unforeseen moment like this.
“…Hmm.”
However, unlike Yohan, Francia remained doubtful. Why hadn’t Rudella utilized these weaknesses before her regression?
‘It’s a time that’s already gone, so there’s no way to figure it out now…’
Rudella Bismarck had been an enigmatic figure both before and after Francia’s regression, making it difficult to guess her intentions.
If she had to speculate…
‘Was it a political issue?’
During the time before her regression, when Fedelian began moving in earnest and making bold moves, he was a well-established emperor.
Utilizing his weaknesses would have been politically risky and might even have backfired.
‘Maybe it was something like that?’
Of course, there was also the possibility that Rudella had grown emotionally attached to him—perhaps she had even fallen for him. For all her cold and lofty demeanor, Rudella surprisingly had a romantic side.
But Francia didn’t think that was very likely. Developing affection for Fedelian was something Francia found utterly inconceivable.
“Is something bothering you?”
Yohan tilted his head, watching Francia intently. She had been lost in thought for a while now, and he had been observing her closely.
“Ah… No, it’s nothing. I just have a lot on my mind,” Francia replied with an awkward laugh, evading the truth. There was no way she could share her real thoughts.
“Then for now… it would be best to observe a little longer. This matter requires careful handling.”
“You’re right. Acting quickly is important, but we also need to proceed cautiously to avoid failure.”
It wasn’t that she doubted Rudella’s abilities, but they couldn’t afford to be careless. After all, their target was the crown prince of an entire nation.
And when this matter is over, the benefits will be substantial. Rudella will offer far more than just a way to deal with the Crown Prince who stands in their way.
“But you know, Yohan, I have something I’m curious about.”
As Yohan was organizing his thoughts, Francia called to him with a chilly smile.
“…Please, go ahead.”
Feeling an inexplicable sense of danger, Yohan flinched for a moment but didn’t let it show.
“Did you have a pleasant conversation with Lady Bismarck?”
Her cheerful smile somehow seemed displeased. Yohan was certain. Francia was in a foul mood. His instincts, honed through countless encounters with noble ladies, told him so.
“It was just an ordinary conversation.”
“Ordinary…? Really? I doubt that.”
Her voice sank to a murmur, crawling up his spine like a cold draft.
“You two seemed quite cozy chatting in front of the manor. Even kissed her cheek. Lady Bismarck’s smile didn’t seem like it was going anywhere, did it?”
Could she really have seen all of that? Yohan felt his body tense up in real-time.
“Do you like Lady Bismarck that much, Yohan?”
“Well…”
“Unlike when you’re with me, you seemed so giddy and fresh, didn’t you?”
Francia asked with an amicable smile, but it sent chills down Yohan’s back. It was unmistakably a smile, so why did it carry such a menacing undertone?
“…Francia, you’re my first priority.”
“Really?”
“Of course.”
“Hmm…”
She squinted her eyes, staring intently at Yohan. Then, she lowered her gaze and pressed her lips into a tight line.
“I’m worried.”
“Worried? About what exactly?”
“That she’ll take you away from me.”
Francia’s crimson eyes wavered. Her gaze stayed fixed on the ground, emotions of anxiety and fear swirling visibly within them.
After Rudella left, Francia recounted what she had discussed with her.
“…That’s how it happened.”
“Indeed…”
Yohan nodded slowly. Rudella currently held exactly what both he and Francia needed most.
“She’s confident she can persuade Lady Bismarck, and I think it’s justified.”
If it had only been a ledger, it would have been difficult to hold the Crown Prince accountable. However, the evidence Rudella had gathered included not just records captured through a “Mana Canvas” but also audio recordings made using magical tools.
Even so, while the Crown Prince might not escape unscathed, it would only delay the inevitable; full evasion was no longer possible.
“This kind of evidence doesn’t just appear out of nowhere… It seems she’s been preparing for this for a long time.”
Francia rubbed her chin with a perplexed expression. It was only natural for her to find it puzzling—before the regression, there hadn’t been any hint of such preparation.
“…I’m not sure of the exact reason, but I think it’s likely that she was preparing to keep him under control,” Yohan murmured quietly, meeting Francia’s crimson eyes.
“Under control?”
“Yes.”
He gazed deeply into Francia’s crimson eyes and continued speaking.
“He is destined to become the sun of the empire, yet he’s also someone unpredictable. To hold the leash of such a person properly, you’d need to know plenty of his weaknesses, wouldn’t you?”
Although they had crafted the image of a flawless crown prince to the public, that facade surely couldn’t fool Rudella’s eyes.
If it were her, she’d know exactly what kind of person Fedelian was. That’s why, even in ordinary times, she would have been watching closely and gathering evidence, just in case.
“…Hmm.”
Unlike Yohan, however, Francia was still puzzled. Why hadn’t she used those weaknesses against him before her regression?
‘It’s not like I can find out now that the time is gone…’
Rudella Bismarck had been a difficult figure to understand, both before and after Francia’s regression, making even speculation challenging.
If she had to think about it…
‘Was it a political issue?’
At the time when pre-regression Fedelian began making bold moves and showing an unconventional path, he was a firmly established emperor. Using his weaknesses at that point could have been politically dangerous. It might have even backfired.
‘Well, I’m not sure… but maybe it was something like that.’
Of course, there was also the possibility that Rudella had become emotionally entangled with him, developing real affection. Despite her cold and lofty demeanor, Rudella had a surprisingly romantic side.
But Francia didn’t consider that a high possibility. The idea of someone harboring affection for Fedelian was unthinkable to her.
“Is there something bothering you?”
Yohan, who had been quietly watching her, tilted his head. He had been observing Francia, who seemed deep in thought for a while now.
“Oh… no. I just have a lot on my mind,” Francia replied, awkwardly smiling to cover up her thoughts. It wasn’t something she could share anyway.
“In that case… it’s best to keep observing for now. We need to approach this carefully.”
“Right. Acting quickly is good, but there’s a risk of failure, so we have to be as cautious as possible.”
It wasn’t that she doubted Rudella’s abilities, but they couldn’t afford to be careless. They were dealing with the task of bringing down the crown prince of an entire nation.
And when this was over, the gains would be significant. Rudella wasn’t just someone who could deal with the crown prince blocking their path—she would bring much more to the table.
“But Yohan, there’s something I’ve been curious about.”
While Yohan was organizing his thoughts, Francia called to him with a cold smile.
“…Go ahead.”
The faintly menacing tone made Yohan flinch for a moment, but he didn’t show it outwardly.
“Did you have a nice chat with Lady Bismarck?”
Her smiling face looked oddly displeased. Yohan was certain now—Francia was in a foul mood. His intuition, honed by dealing with countless noblewomen, screamed it.
“We just had a normal conversation.”
“Normal…? I’m not so sure. Doesn’t seem like it.”
Her soft voice sank lower, crawling up his spine.
“You were having quite a cozy conversation in front of the mansion, weren’t you? And even kissed her cheek. Lady Bismarck couldn’t stop smiling.”
Did she see all that? Yohan felt his body stiffen in real time.
“Do you like Lady Bismarck that much, Yohan?”
“Well, that’s—”
“You seemed all sweet and bashful with her, unlike when you’re with me,”
Francia asked with a bright, friendly smile. Yet, Yohan felt a chill run down his spine. It was unmistakably a smile, but why did it carry such an ominous aura?
“…To me, Francia is always first.”
“Really?”
“Of course.”
“Hmm…”
She narrowed her eyes and gazed at Yohan intently. Then, her eyes drifted downward, and she pressed her lips into a thin line.
“I’m worried.”
“About what exactly…”
“I feel like someone might take you away from me.”
Francia’s red eyes quivered. Her gaze stayed fixed on the ground, her emotions of anxiety and fear clearly visible.
“Lady Bismarck… even to me, she’s stunningly beautiful and… captivating. Someone like that showing you such blind devotion…..how could you not be swayed…?”
Her voice was soft and trembling.
“Of course, I know better than anyone that you wouldn’t do that to me… but sometimes, just sometimes, my heart sinks.”
The ever-gentle curve of Francia’s eyes had softened into a droop.
“This kind of talk probably only makes you uncomfortable… I’m sorry. I accepted this knowing what it entailed, after all…”
Francia despised her own hesitance.
She could understand Yohan’s desires. After all, she too had succumbed to her own selfish impulses when she chose him.
Still, the feeling of dislike she experienced was instinctive, something beyond her control.
However, prioritizing her own feelings would weigh heavily on her conscience. She had essentially forced responsibility upon him, luring him with drink and spending the night together, knowing full well that he was meant to be with someone else.
“I… I understand what you’re saying,” Yohan said, his expression firm as he placed his hands gently on her shoulders. His touch was soft.
“There’s no need to apologize to me. What you’re feeling is a natural emotion for someone in love. And honestly, isn’t it all because I was greedy?”
Even in a time when polygamy was permissible, human feelings didn’t change. Francia must be struggling, wondering if this was truly right.
That’s why Yohan smiled gently and spoke with conviction.
“I promise. My feelings for you will never change.”
It wasn’t a lie. Nor was it a mere consolation to comfort her.
Loving two people equally was a headache-inducing challenge, but not impossible. It simply required seeing each person for who they were.
“…Really?”
“Of course.”
Yohan reached out and stroked Francia’s trembling cheek. Her skin was smooth, tempting him to keep touching it.
“Sorry… for being so needy…”
“No, I’m the one who should apologize. For being greedy.”
“No… it’s not greed.”
Francia swallowed her words and cautiously leaned into Yohan’s embrace. His warmth enveloped her, melting the cold unease in her heart.
She slowly lifted her head, meeting Yohan’s gaze.
“It’s because I really love you. You know that, right?”
“I do. How could I not?”
Yohan gently stroked Francia’s head as she buried her face into his chest. He felt nothing but gratitude for her, for accommodating his selfish desires despite her own worries.
* * *
The height of winter.
As time passed, the days grew colder, and the air only turned sharper.
It was no different in the domain of the second prince, Descartes, located in the empire’s remote outskirts.
If anything, the harshness of winter storms was even more severe there.
An endless world of snow and ice.
The fields, blanketed in white, lay in serene silence, while cold winds whipped through, scattering snowflakes.
The frozen river had turned into a transparent sheet of ice, and the tree branches stood bare, resembling black skeletons.
“This cursed land always turns into a nightmare come winter,”
muttered the second prince, Descartes, clicking his tongue in displeasure.
Having been pushed out of the imperial succession race, he had been all but exiled to this far-flung region.
The only reason Descartes was still alive was the arrogance and mercy of his rival, Fedelian.
“Still, Your Highness, this land has greatly improved since your arrival. Look at the people; despite the harsh weather and difficult conditions, their faces are brighter now, are they not?”
His adjutant, Dante, grinned as he flattered him.
But it wasn’t a lie.
Indeed, the borderland had become more livable since Descartes began managing it.
At the village outskirts, the faces of the residents were etched with signs of hardship but were not devoid of light.
“What does it matter? The land is barren enough as it is, yet monsters run rampant, and there’s no support whatsoever. Meanwhile, the number of mouths to feed is growing, and my strength alone isn’t enough. It’s maddening.”
Despite the flattery, Descartes frowned and massaged his temples as a headache began to form.
In truth, he had no intention of properly managing the domain. After all, it was no different from a death sentence….a place to which he’d been cast aside after being ousted from the competition for the throne.
Yet.
Yet, the people living here placed their hopes on him. They believed things would change now that His Highness had personally come to aid them.
Descartes felt compelled to meet those expectations. He didn’t want to disappoint those who looked to him with unwavering hope.
Sure, being pushed out of the succession race was infuriating, and his circumstances left him bitter, but… someone had to do what needed to be done.
The fact that he had lost his claim to the throne had nothing to do with the starving people before him.
“Have there been any responses to my requests for supplies and knights to be sent here?”
“There has been no reply from the imperial court, but Your Highness, a letter did arrive for you.”
“For me?”
Descartes raised an eyebrow, puzzled. There weren’t many people who would bother to send him a letter.
“Here it is. The sender’s identity is unclear, but it’s said to have come from someone of high standing.”
Dante handed him a letter, its crimson seal marked with an insignia that made its origins ambiguous.
“They deliberately concealed the sender’s identity?”
The letter reeked of suspicion.
Descartes’ curiosity was piqued—this was a letter that should not have reached him under normal circumstances.
“Let’s open it immediately.”
Unable to suppress his intrigue, Descartes tore open the envelope and scanned the contents.
“Hah.”
A hollow laugh escaped his lips.
It was clear that someone of high rank had sent it, given the seal of the Rozino Imperial Family.
And the contents only reinforced that notion.
[The brightest star often becomes the ruler of the heavens without needing to announce itself. I doubt Your Highness lacks the ambition to take such a glorious position. Or am I mistaken?]
[The fruit on the highest branch waits for the one worthy enough to claim it. Many are eagerly anticipating the day that fruit falls into your hands, Your Highness.]
Flowery and verbose, yet the message was clear.
[Are you interested in the throne? I’ll help you.]
A smirk tugged at Descartes’ lips.
“So, they want me to join a rebellion. No, they want me to lead one.”
He exhaled, his breath forming a frosty mist in the cold air.
He didn’t know who had sent it, but there was no way he would refuse such an offer.
“They’re expecting a reply?”
“Yes.”
“Send it immediately.”
A glint of icy determination flashed in Descartes’ golden eyes.
“It’s time for the true sun to rise.”