Chapter 43
The next morning.
The air was different from usual. It was not a chill. The chamberlains coming and going within the castle were walking fast.
Voices were low, and the sound of rubbing armor echoed starkly.
I stood by the window, looking out at the courtyard.
(…Something happened.)
There is a sense of incongruity. For the past few days, the movement of soldiers had been hurried. The influx of supplies had also increased.
A bell rings in the distance. A low, heavy sound. Not a bell of celebration.
There is a knock on the door.
“Excuse me.”
The one who entered was the Royal Mandate Inspector. The role that supervises movements in the name of the great power’s King.
Before him, Marc had already stepped forward one pace. Diagonally in front of me, in a position to slightly shield me.
The Royal Mandate Inspector kept a certain distance and bowed.
“Before dawn this morning, our country entered a state of war with that country.”
For a few seconds, I didn’t understand the words.
(State of war…?)
Eventually, the meaning sinks in. War has begun.
“…I see.”
There was a possibility. But to actually do it.
Memories of my previous life cross my mind. That strange quietness just before a major problem occurs at the company.
Only the air changes first. It is similar. But different.
This is between countries.
The Royal Mandate Inspector continues.
“The Royal Capital has entered a state of emergency.”
A beat.
“We are truly sorry, but due to the emergency, His Majesty has decreed that Your Highness’s departure from the country cannot be permitted.”
Silence. Marc’s hand grips slightly stronger.
“…Does that mean,” his voice was low, “a de facto detention?”
The Royal Mandate Inspector does not change his expression.
“There is no such intent. It is a measure to ensure your safety.”
“Safety?”
Marc’s voice trembled slightly.
“Our Highness is a guest. This treatment is—”
“Marc.”
I quietly interrupted. Not out of anger. Just a tone of voice to assess the situation.
“It is rational.”
I muttered softly.
“I am a prince of a small country. If I return to my country immediately after a war begins, that in itself carries diplomatic meaning.”
The Royal Mandate Inspector lowered his eyes slightly. Neither affirming nor denying.
“Locking the board in place, in other words.”
I look out the window. The sound of the bell is still echoing. Marc steps forward.
“Your Highness, even so—”
His words did not continue. Was it anger, or anxiety? Impatience at not being able to return to our homeland?
I let out a small breath.
(They scored a point against me.)
To be honest, I am ignorant of the atmosphere at the beginning of a war. But I am used to reading the board.
“I will not protest.”
I said quietly.
“However, leave this on the record.”
Marc looked up.
“Yes.”
His voice was still stiff. The Royal Mandate Inspector bowed.
“A wise judgment.”
I do not know how much of those words are his true feelings. The door closed. The sound of the bell faded. Marc spoke in a low voice.
“…Your Highness.”
I gave a bitter smile.
“It’s fine. We’re not in checkmate yet.”
And I looked up at the sky outside the window.
The morning the war began. I ended up being detained in the castle of the great power.
That day, I entered the room as scheduled.
The round table chamber was arranged without a single change from the other day.
The polished stone floor. The scarlet textiles woven with the Royal Family‘s crest. Sunlight streaming quietly from the high windows.
It was hard to believe a war had started this morning.
First Princess Elysia was already seated.
Upon seeing me, her eyes widened ever so slightly.
Did she think I wouldn’t come? But she immediately composed her expression.
“Let us begin.”
As if the war had absolutely nothing to do with it.
Fine. I am here for the discussions on establishing the academy. What I have to do is already decided.
I took my seat.
Elysia quietly placed her hands on the table, lightly holding down the documents with her fingertips. Without standing, while remaining seated, she swept her gaze over everyone at the round table.
“Today, we will finalize the system design of the sister academies.”
Her voice was flat. Lining up words like pieces on a board.
I gently straightened my posture.
Today, I will present my proposal. I have no intention of remaining passive. Aligning my fingertips on the tabletop, I let my gaze complete a circuit. Then, I quietly opened my mouth.
“No matter the situation, the reason we are here does not change.”
A beat.
“Therefore, we shall move into today’s agenda. First—a free elective system for the curriculum.”
A stir ran through the room.
“Choosing subjects based on aptitude and aspiration, rather than status or family standing. Not fixed curriculums, but a staged elective system.”
The silence was only momentary.
“Your Highness.”
A Marquis slowly opened his mouth.
“Does that mean the children of the streets and our legitimate heirs will attend the same lectures?”
“In the foundational subjects.”
“At the same desks?”
His voice lowered.
“That will invite a confusion of the hierarchy.”
Another noble spoke.
“Bloodline is an order granted by God. It is our duty to stand at the top of it.”
I did not answer immediately. I let my gaze sweep the room.
“I will not let it become confused.”
“Then how will you distinguish them?”
A sharp question. I answered.
“I will separate the tiers of evaluation.”
The air moved slightly.
“Common subjects will be available for all to take. However, high-tier subjects—Governance, Etiquette, Monarchcraft—will be for nobles only.”
The Marquis narrowed his eyes.
“…The gates are the same, but the inner chambers are different, you say?”
“Exactly.”
Another voice.
“But grades will be issued, won’t they. What if a citizen takes a higher rank than our legitimate heirs?”
“That is their ability as a bureaucrat.”
I chose my words carefully.
“It will be evaluated on a completely different axis from the qualifications to govern.”
“A different axis?”
“Nobles will be measured by their aptitude as ‘those who rule.’ Citizens will be measured by their skill as ‘those who support.'”
Silence. One of them said:
“In other words, you will not measure them by the same yardstick?”
“I will not.”
“But if they learn in the same place, their consciousnesses will grow closer.”
That is correct. I nodded.
“Their consciousnesses will grow closer. But the hierarchy will not move.”
“How can you declare that so definitively?”
“Because it will be fixed by the system.”
Here, the stir grew stronger.
“Systems can be changed.”
“Blood does not change.”
My voice was quiet.
“The right of succession to bloodlines is decided by the family, not the academy.”
For a moment, the air stopped. The Marquis spoke in a low voice.
“…You are saying that grades will not threaten the legitimacy of the blood?”
“They will not.”
“Can you prove that?”
“Grades will be used solely for the selection of official posts. It will be completely separated from the succession of titles.”
Words are not blades. But they were certainly clashing. Before anyone noticed, the light that had been illuminating the round table moved to the edge of the table, and eventually fell to the floor.
No one noticed.
“Decide official posts by grades?”
“Limited to certain lower-level bureaucratic posts.”
Here, for the first time, an air of calculation and thought appeared.
“Even if the legitimate heir is incompetent, the headship of the family is protected.”
“It is protected.”
“But a competent citizen can become a bureaucrat.”
“They can.”
Silence. This is not a revolution. It is an adjustment.
The Marquis finally said.
“…Your Highness does not intend to tear down bloodlines, do you.”
“I will not.”
I did not avert my gaze.
“However, I will make bloodlines bear responsibility.”
What does that mean? Their eyes asked.
“If the one who rules is incompetent, there is a necessity for the one who supports to be excellent.”
The faces at the round table seemed to be advancing their own separate calculations in the depths of the silence.
Eventually, I looked at the hourglass serving as a clock. Exactly on time.
“Let us conclude here for today.”
For an instant, the air stopped.
The Marquis started to say something. But my voice was calm.
“The continuation will be tomorrow. Systems are not things to be made in a rush.”
Silence. Gazes turned not to me, but to Elysia.
First Princess Elysia was looking this way. Her eyes were saying she had no intention of ending yet.
“…Your Highness certainly has composure, do you not.”
A quiet tone. It was not a provocation. It had the ring of confirming a fact.
“It is not composure.”
I stood up.
“However, rushing distorts systems. And no matter what the situation may be, I keep my daily routine.”
A slight stir. Faces lined up, unable to tell if it was irony or a joke.
Elysia‘s lips rose ever so slightly.
“…Placing things under your control right up until the time limit to exit. Splendid command.”
“It is a habit.”
I bowed.
“Thank you for today.”
No one was convinced.
But no one objected either.
Thus, a certain day ended.
Upon leaving the round table chamber, outside the corridor window was already dyed ultramarine.
In the distance, the commands to prepare for war echoed.
War is moving. But the board has not yet collapsed. In this world, learning is a blade that shakes order.
Even so.
Now is not yet that time.
