MITRA 29

Chapter 29

Perhaps, in the face of the enemy, showing one’s back was considered a crime. A wound on the back was proof that a soldier had fled.

But even so… was there any need to treat someone so cruelly?

“Oh dear! How thoughtless of me. Such discussions must be unpleasant for a Holy One.”

As she was thinking that, the arrow was suddenly aimed at her.

It wasn’t difficult for Legria to recognize what lay beneath Marquis Rixen’s gaze.

It was mockery.

She had spent her entire life receiving looks like that. There was no way she wouldn’t recognize it.

But what am I supposed to do?

Standing before so many people so suddenly left her confused.

Should she pretend to be the perfect Crown Princess?

Should she confidently voice her own opinion?

Or should she simply keep her mouth shut and smile?

Rahik had never told her how she was expected to behave.

Nor had he ever told her what not to do at a party.

“Your Highness.”

“Sir Rixen.”

“It is an honor to meet Your Highness, the future Crown Princess, for the first time.”

Before long, several more nobles gathered around Rahik. After greeting Legria politely, they immediately resumed discussing the barbarian tribes on the frontier.

“The greatest problem is that they’ve begun controlling beasts. It’s as if they’ve lost their minds—the beast packs know no fear.”

“The only answer is to find their nests and burn every last cub alive! Haven’t I advocated using fire attacks from the very beginning?”

The “barbarians” they spoke of were undoubtedly the Steppe Confederation, the nation she had briefly learned about while studying the world map.

But classroom lessons were one thing.

Hearing people speak so casually about slaughter was something else entirely.

Then that means… the hatred runs just as deeply on the Steppe Confederation’s side.

Hatred was never one-sided.

It always flowed both ways.

Instinctively realizing this conversation was important, Legria found herself listening intently.

It didn’t matter if they treated her like a decorative backdrop.

Any information that might help her survive in this world was worth remembering.

“And what do you think, Your Highness?”

Then it happened.

Not Marquis Rixen this time, but another noble standing beside him suddenly directed the question at her, as though testing her.

Legria quietly inhaled before answering.

“I know very little about war.”

“Hahaha! Just as expected.”

“But…”

I should simply stay quiet. Blend into the background. Why is that so difficult?

Yet despite her thoughts, her mouth moved on its own.

“I do know that such methods only breed greater hatred and resentment—and that someday, without fail, a price will be paid.”

“…Pardon? What did you just say?”

The men all looked visibly surprised, as though they had never imagined she would voice her own opinion.

Then, almost instinctively, they glanced toward Rahik.

She was the one speaking.

Yet they looked to him first, seemingly checking whether he had permitted her to do so.

“Are you suggesting, Sir, that even newborn infants should be massacred?”

And that…

That genuinely irritated her.

“If doing so could truly solve everything, perhaps one might consider it. But even if only a single survivor remains, the flames of resistance will continue to burn.”

“…Well now. You certainly hold rather unusual beliefs.”

Several men stroked their mustaches with smug expressions.

“Haha. Or perhaps we should simply call her a progressive lady.”

“Of course, military studies are hardly among the accomplishments expected of a lady. Those are the virtues of knights.”

“Still, it is wonderful that Her Highness already takes an interest in foreign affairs. Surely she’ll show just as much concern for domestic matters as well! Hahaha!”

This country truly was peculiar.

It wasn’t that women were universally looked down upon.

Rather…

Women who were not knights were.

A person’s words carried weight according to their status and profession.

What baffled Legria most was their unwavering belief that even the future Crown Princess had no need to understand politics or war.

Why?

Then why does the position of Crown Princess even exist?

Simply to manage the imperial household?

Surely there were already officials responsible for such duties.

Unable to understand, she glanced toward Rahik.

Ever since she’d begun speaking, he had merely watched the exchange with leisurely amusement.

The interest gleaming in his golden eyes made it clear he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

She hadn’t looked at him for help.

Her gaze had simply asked:

Do you truly agree with what they’re saying?

Receiving no answer, she turned back toward the nobles.

Without realizing it, a crowd had gathered around her.

Every face showed genuine curiosity.

And speaking for everyone present, Marquis Rixen asked,

“Then what would Your Highness propose we do about these barbarians who murder the people of Belligreum?”

…A malicious question.

If she argued for humanitarian principles, they would dismiss her as someone who wasn’t truly one of Belligreum’s people.

If she supported killing them, she would contradict everything she had just said.

Worst of all…

No matter how she answered, these people had already decided they wanted to wipe out the Steppe Confederation.

They had no intention of listening.

Asking for an opinion they never intended to consider was little more than ridicule.

“Their leader must have something they desire. Is diplomacy not the act of presenting each side’s interests and narrowing the gap through negotiation? Or does this nation possess only an army and no diplomats?”

“Of course we have diplomats! Though whether those barbarians are capable of understanding civilized speech is another matter!”

At one noble’s joking remark, laughter erupted throughout the group.

Watching them carefully, Legria became certain.

These people had never once sat down with the Steppe Confederation as equals.

And even if they had…

They would have carried themselves with this same smug, condescending attitude.

She quietly observed the laughing nobles before smiling gently.

“I wonder which number is greater…”

“The number of Belligreum’s people killed by the Steppe Confederation…”

“…or the number of Belligreum’s own citizens sent to their deaths because of poor decisions made by Belligreum itself.”

Silence.

“Only the gods can judge whose lives carried greater worth.”

Now she finally understood why Rahik had told her to smile.

A smile could become both a weapon…

…and a shield.

Showing anger in a place like this was something only children did.

She couldn’t seize someone by the collar and throw them to the floor the way Beatrice would have.

So instead…

She did what she could.

She smiled while mocking them.

“…Your Highness. There are things that should—and should not—be said.”

After a long silence, Marquis Rixen finally spoke in a heavy voice.

The atmosphere around the old general turned icy.

Legria instinctively realized it.

His attitude toward her had completely changed.

Hostility radiated from his heavy frame, cold enough to make her fingertips numb.

“The military of Belligreum fights with our lives to protect its people! No one may insult the military! And those who are not knights have no right to involve themselves in such discussions. They simply lack the qualifications.”

“I see.”

“Then from the beginning, you invited me into a conversation I was never permitted to join.”

“So throughout this entire discussion, I was merely expected to sip my wine and smile.”

With every word she spoke, Legria’s voice became colder.

He would never dare speak to Beatrice this way.

She was sick of it.

Inside her, an infuriated Beatrice was practically stomping around.

Legria could almost feel the nausea.

It was as though Beatrice wanted nothing more than to leap out, grab every one of these smug men by the collar, and smash their heads together.

Holding her back was becoming increasingly difficult.

“That’s enough.”

Rahik, who had remained silent until now, finally intervened.

Legria had already said everything she wished to say.

There was no point ruining the party any further.

She was prepared to let the matter end there.

But Marquis Rixen apparently was not.

“Sarcasm is an ugly habit. I would never allow my own children to mock a knight.”

“After all, who is it that protects them from having their throats torn out by those barbarian beasts?”

“…”

“I shall overlook it this once, assuming Your Highness simply does not know any better. However—”

“AAAAAAAH!”

Everyone nearby had begun looking increasingly uncomfortable as his self-righteous lecture dragged on.

Several guests were already starting to back away.

Then—

A scream tore through the hall.

CRACK!

“GAAAAAH!”

Legria’s eyes widened in disbelief.

At first…

She saw fingers.

Then—

An arm.

There came the horrifying sound of bone twisting, as though an arm were being torn from a living body.

A limb hung limply.

Then came the agonized scream.

It was so filled with pain that even the orchestra stopped playing mid-performance.

His arm…

Marquis Rixen, who moments ago had radiated overwhelming confidence, now collapsed onto the floor.

Slowly shifting her gaze, Legria saw his thick arm hanging at an unnatural angle.

Like the leg of a spider that had been casually twisted apart…

The one who had crushed the old general with such effortless, merciless brutality…

…moved his foot with lazy indifference.

“Whether it is subduing barbarians…”

Rixen coughed violently, groaning in agony.

“…or teaching rotten trash that has long outlived its usefulness a lesson…”

“Resistance…”

Rahik said calmly,

“…is broken like this.”

The name of that absolute ruler…

…was Rahik.