Butterfly and Jewel

The Grand Council had ended, and the after-party was now underway.

The atmosphere felt even more desolate than before the talks.

Before the conference, people had loosened up to probe one another's information; now the various factions were busy displaying their solidarity within their own groups.

Like children.

It was no different from dividing into teams after a quarrel. The only difference was that these people held swords capable of commanding countless lives.

The Empire was no exception. Befitting its vast scale, there were fully thirty individuals of ducal rank or higher. Rather than gathering under the great banner of the Empire itself, they mingled strictly within their internal factions.

Alexander, who had earlier shown boundless interest, spotted Ferda and approached with forced warmth.

"What happened?"

"I merely exchanged a few words regarding the Val matter."

"Ah, right. I never imagined you would boldly declare your intention to conquer the Far East. If you need anything at all, just say the word. I'll help you barefoot if I must!"

"Thank you."

That was the end of the conversation. Alexander returned to his group and resumed playing the role of its leader.

Jed, quick to read the subtleties of noble society, immediately noticed the shift in Alexander's attitude.

"Did you fall out with the First Prince? You seemed fine right up until we entered the Grand Council…."

"He's simply deciding I'm of no use and ignoring me."

Ferda left that circle without the slightest regret. He had never wanted to mingle with them in the first place.

Soon another man approached, bowing deeply at the waist.

"Bernard Wayne, President of Escoleia, is honored to meet the consort of the Great Lord of Strength and Fire."

"I greet the President of Humanity's Repository of Knowledge."

This was the man who had raised the agenda concerning the appearance of demon followers. Ferda unconsciously frowned.

"Is something displeasing you? Your expression…."

"No…."

Bernard's polished bald head caught the light of the chandeliers and flashed brilliantly.

"Your head is simply too dazzling."

"Ahem… Let us set that aside. I wish to thank you for today's matter."

"Thank me?"

"The Imperial Prince stepped forward and nearly muddied the agenda, did he not? Because you intervened directly, I was able to finish speaking."

Ah. That.

"You need not concern yourself. I simply detest those who play politics with monsters. I prefer people of genuine ability."

"It is no easy thing to treat others according to one's convictions. That is why I feel I shall get along quite well with the Regent of Baldrova."

President Bernard offered an awkward smile. It made him look unpleasantly like a man hatching schemes. In truth, however, Bernard was a man utterly distant from intrigue—excessively earnest and overflowing with responsibility.

"Please speak."

"In accordance with today's announcement, I had intended to present a certain technology. Yet after witnessing today's events, I simply could not find the right moment."

"Technology?"

"Something to which I have devoted my entire life. The mechanism of the Monster Appearance Prediction Device."

"Monster Appearance Prediction Device… I believe I have heard of it somewhere."

"How could that be? We have been preparing it in the strictest secrecy at Escoleia."

He might have kept it secret, but Ferda—who possessed knowledge of the future—had heard of it once before. From whom? At last he remembered.

Tessalos Wolcher.

That man had spoken of it. A Monster Appearance Prediction Device had nearly been completed, only to vanish in the end. Had it existed, the duration of this work could have been reduced by more than half. At the time Ferda had found Tessalos's obsession pathetic. Looking back now, the pathetic one had been himself.

"President."

"Yes."

"When do you intend to unveil that technology?"

"Very soon. Do you know of Halim? I have rented a hall there and plan to gather merchants from every region for an exhibition and presentation. Of course…."

The president glanced quickly about, then leaned in with a sly whisper.

"We shall also hold a banquet and enjoy some entertainment together."

"I shall have to remain alive until then."

"Naturally. How could one sleep if one died without enjoying anything? If it is possible for you as well, Regent…."

"If you invite me, I shall attend."

"Haha, truly a man."

The president sent him a look of conspiratorial understanding.

"Understood. I shall prepare an invitation. I must go greet the others, so I will take my leave."

"Go carefully."

The conversation with the President of Escoleia was a considerable harvest for Ferda. The plan to gather merchants for an exhibition in Halim. The fact that the Monster Appearance Prediction Device was originally a real technology.

And that I can place the president in my debt.

He disliked politics, yet when something was necessary he obtained it by whatever means. That was precisely why Ferda had attended the Grand Council.

"Jed. Arwen."

"Yes?"

"Yes!"

The same reply, yet with entirely different punctuation.

"From this moment, secretly monitor the President of Escoleia."

"That bald fellow? What did he do to earn that order?"

"He is a man who lives as though there is no tomorrow. Watch whether he attempts anything foolish, and whether any suspicious air gathers around him. Circle him and keep constant watch. This is top priority."

"Yes."

Unlike Arwen, Jed did not answer at once.

"I'll do it if ordered, but what's the reason?"

"A knight has a great many opinions."

"I'm only a makeshift knight. The one I swore loyalty to hasn't even held an investiture banquet for me."

"Stop complaining and do it. I'll see that you are compensated."

"Tch. Understood."

At the mention of compensation, Jed's discontent evaporated completely. He had probably voiced the complaints solely to hear those words.

After sending the two away, Ferda surveyed the hall once more. While roughly mapping the forming power blocs, he spotted Olivia. She was conversing with clergy dressed in white priestly robes edged in gold.

From the Holy Kingdom of Odograsado?

It was strange. The Holy Kingdom of Odograsado and the Arken Empire rejected each other on the principle that two suns cannot coexist. Moreover, a woman in a dress that brazenly bared her cleavage was mingling freely with priests.

As if sensing his gaze, she met Ferda's eyes. Smiling with her eyes, she carefully gestured for him to approach.

Awkward. Yet if he had to associate with anyone, Olivia was still the least objectionable choice. Thinking thus, Ferda walked toward her.

Olivia's eyes, which had held his so intensely, remained bright and perfect as always. She placed a hand lightly on his shoulder.

"Allow me to introduce you."

Two men stood there. One was a frail old man wearing a crown. The other was a middle-aged man with a scarred face who held himself ramrod-straight like a soldier.

"This is Ferda Valdrova, the Regent who will become the husband of Lady Baldrova the Red Dragon. You have already met, yes?"

"Haha, I know him well. One could hardly fail to notice him."

The old man stroked his pure-white beard and laughed heartily. An arm free of its sleeve came into view—so thin that the phrase "skin and bones" seemed inadequate. Though he wore high-heeled shoes, he was a frail old man far shorter than Olivia; he looked as though a strong breeze might topple him. Even the heavy garments he wore seemed ready to crush him.

Yet when one faced him directly, that appearance meant nothing. From the two eyes he held wide open poured a golden radiance. Even Ferda, who had long since burned away the last handful of faith in his heart, felt that a god dwelled within those eyes.

Ferda willingly offered respect.

"I greet the Son of Miracles, the Father of the Holy Kingdom, His Holiness Pope Gregorio."

"A pleasure to meet you, Regent Ferda. I hear this is your first Grand Council."

"It is."

"For one taking his first steps, you made remarkably bold remarks."

"Yes. I assume they were not to your liking."

Gregorio shook his head.

"Not at all. The thoughts you voiced are questions this old man has occasionally posed himself. Whether the Evil Dragon Baldrova, despised by all, might not in truth be the guardian of the East."

"Is that so?"

"I came here as the representative of Lady Odograsado's will. Thus I bear the duty to act with caution in all things. I cannot support your opinion at once."

He let out a regretful sound and lightly patted Ferda's forearm.

"However, if you demonstrate the will to dispel that misunderstanding, I shall have no choice but to support you in the name of the Golden Scales."

The name of the Golden Scales. It was an absolute oath sworn by those who followed Odograsado. That the Pope himself had cast such an oath meant he truly intended to keep it—on the surface, at least.

Yet Ferda did not take the words at face value. Even this Pope of the Holy Kingdom ultimately placed interests first.

"I am simply moved that you think so."

"Go forth and unfold your will. If you take a step believing in the god within your heart, He will surely answer."

When the greetings concluded, Olivia—who had been watching—interjected.

"Then we shall take our leave, Your Holiness. Please take care of your health."

"May the Golden Grace follow the Flower of the Empire."

After the formal courtesies, Olivia naturally linked her arm through Ferda's. She moved so smoothly that he had no chance to refuse.

"Shall we go?"

With subtle gestures that made it appear Ferda was leading, she guided him away. Once sufficient distance had been gained, Olivia spoke.

"I heard what happened at the talks."

Her gaze was clearly displeased.

"Did you devise that agenda yourself, Lord Ferda?"

"Yes."

"It was a truly foolish act."

Despite the cold words, Olivia continued to smile brightly. Looking only at her face, one could never have guessed the nature of their conversation.

"It was something that had to be said."

"Not something one says at a Grand Council debut. Those words could only produce the opposite effect. It was a moment when the still-unformed image of the Far East might have been decided for the worse."

Her tone held a sharp edge unbefitting a flower of the greenhouse.

"Is a princess who has just conversed with a foreign pope now scolding me?"

"Oh my? Please do not compare us. I am originally this sort of person—a person just like a butterfly."

"A butterfly?"

Ferda asked. Olivia smiled sweetly, lightly released his arm, and walked a short distance away. No—she fluttered, her dress billowing as though she flew.

"I flit here and there, circling about. Just within reach yet never quite catchable, so that one ends up chasing after my trail. Giving just enough weight to avoid frivolity, yet never becoming an iron wall—lightly."

She truly was like a butterfly. It was a movement like a tightrope act. Then she settled lightly once more toward the hand Ferda still held out.

"Still, it was not entirely bad. That declaration to conquer the Land of Evil did not plant only a poor impression."

"Is that so?"

"Look at those old, fearful faces. Is that not proof they now clearly remember the face of a man who was nothing more than a minor role in the play?"

That was something Ferda had felt as well.

"You have no allies now, yet once you display your abilities they will soon bow their heads to you. If they see even a one-percent chance of realization through you, they certainly will."

"What makes you so certain?"

"His Highness the Grand Duke of Baldrova possesses an authority different from others—territorial expansion."

The only land that could still be expanded was one place: the Far East. The Demonic Land. A land no one coveted. Speak of it to others and they would laugh it off as a joke. In reality the Grand Ducal territory was shrinking rather than growing.

"If that wasteland can be purified and made our land once more, it will become a second capital."

"A second capital…."

"The Empire is currently saturated. Countless young people abandon orchards and fields to come to the capital seeking success. They call it the Empire Dream."

"Having dreams is not a bad thing."

"True. It is not bad. Yet in the present Empire they are no different from cast-off shoes. Do you know how many enter the Empire and simply die?"

"Even if you tell me that, it remains outside my concern."

"In any case, once the value of that land is proven, the Far East will be reborn not as a mere backwater but as a new land of opportunity. As territory expands, population will grow and speaking rights will expand with it."

The East would grow. At those words Ferda asked,

"Will the Empire sit quietly and allow it?"

Olivia answered,

"Of course not. They will check you as though they care nothing for what becomes of Lady Baldrova."

The Arken Empire would never relinquish the overwhelming power concentrated in its capital—even if someone had to die for it.

"Therefore you must help me."

Weight entered her voice. Sensing that the next words mattered, Ferda focused fully.

"Help with what?"

"I am a butterfly, and at the same time a jewel placed upon the auction block—a jewel that will one day be sold off to the central nobility."

The title of princess that elevated her was both foothold and shackle. The story was not surprising. It was not a tragedy unique to Princess Olivia. Most daughters of prestigious houses that educated their children strictly lived the same fate. The better the education, the more carefully cultivated the beauty, the higher the chance of entering a house more prestigious than one's own. Men sought advancement by men's methods; women by women's. A princess was the ultimate color and the ultimate card held in the Emperor's hand.

Hearing it, Ferda suddenly understood why she was cultivating friendship with the Holy Kingdom of Odograsado.

"I must become a Saintess."

Olivia smiled deeply.

"If I become a Saintess, I can free myself from the price tag of 'princess.'"

"Because no one would wish to claim a devout Saintess and thereby incur the wrath of god and the faithful."

"Exactly."

Olivia possessed the seal of oath, devout faith, and widespread popularity. Her decisive lack was precisely her status as princess.

If she escapes being a princess and becomes a Saintess….

Olivia would transform from a mere tool of the Emperor into a true child of the royal house, and the power structure itself would shift. No longer simply a pretty flower, but a savior who could deliver the weak. She would gain the support of the clergy and thus escape the fate of a jewel on the auction block. In an unstable political landscape she would form a stable base of support.

It sounded fine in theory. Yet Ferda already knew the truth.

Olivia cannot become a Saintess.

That was why, in the previous timeline, she had broken her oath and unleashed her colors. She had lured her own blood kin into her bed, become the seductive woman who toppled a nation, and in the end taken her own life. Ferda remembered it with perfect clarity.

"Can you do it for me?"

From her eyes came an unspoken message: For me. Her delicate voice stirred protective instincts.

Ferda looked straight into her eyes and answered,

"Of course I will."

But not for you—

"If you cooperate sufficiently."

—for my fiancée. This is merely work performed under contract.

"Of course."

Looking into Ferda's eyes, Olivia was momentarily flustered. Her voice emerged with the faintest tremor. Embarrassment threatened to color her cheeks, but Ferda failed to notice.

He unlinked their arms and said,

"Then I shall take my leave."

"Where are you going?"

"I have the feeling I should find a certain lost child before long."

"A lost child?"

Ferda released Olivia's hand and walked away.

Every man who had ever held Olivia's hand had been the same. When eyes met, one confronted the possessiveness dwelling within, and because the man would not let go, she had been the one forced to release him. Ferda was different. He walked on without looking back, without the slightest lingering.

Though praised as the Empire's greatest beauty, she was of no concern to him. Rather, it was Olivia who could not take her eyes from him until he disappeared.

An ally uncaptivated by emotion.

A man who did not fixate on useless things and who excluded variables through rational judgment. That was precisely the kind of ally she had once declared most valuable.

Even though I said that….

Actually being ignored by him was not nearly as pleasant as she had imagined. A wave of resentment rose, yet there was no time to indulge it. Nobles were already gathering toward her.

"I greet Princess Olivia of the Arken Empire."

"This humble one is Ken, young lord of the Hus Duchy…."

The moment Ferda vanished, flowers flocked toward the butterfly. No—beasts clutching filthy money with which to purchase her body.

Olivia smiled at them.

Like a precious jewel.