I Don’t Want to Be a Heroic Spirit [316]

"So, in simpler terms… this is just a political marriage, isn't it?"

Thanks to Claire's detailed explanation, "Alice" had pieced together the situation—and promptly offered this blunt assessment.

"Umu! If it were merely a political marriage, I suppose it wouldn't be the end of the world. There are cases where such arrangements turn out happy, after all. But Alice hasn't even met this prince, has she? Has her brother or father completely lost their minds? Throwing away Alice's future and happiness so easily?"

"Exactly! What were His Majesty the King and the Crown Prince thinking? That so-called First Prince of Elrode is nothing but a spoiled brat, pampered since birth! His combat skills are pitiful, and his looks don't hold a candle to the beauty, grace, and charm of Princess Alice! How could they expect her to find happiness with someone like that?!"

Claire was livid, to the point of openly criticizing the royal family.

Her disdain for Elrode's First Prince had been evident during her earlier explanation, where personal bias had heavily colored her words. If anyone else had overheard, Claire might have found herself in serious trouble.

"Nero! Don't you agree?" Claire asked "Alice" passionately. "You think Princess Alice shouldn't marry someone like that brat either, right?"

Instead of answering immediately, "Alice" silently rose from her seat.

"Claire, the king and prince are at the front lines, fighting the Demon King's army at the fortress, correct?"

"That's right… Wait, Nero, where are you going?"

Claire called after her, confusion etched across her face as she watched "Alice's" back.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm going to give those two fools—who traded away Alice's happiness for national support—a surprise. Perhaps something like locking them up and playing a divine symphony I personally composed on surround sound for three days straight!"

"No, you can't! Nero, please don't do that!"

Claire's face turned pale, as if haunted by a traumatic memory. While she had no idea what "surround sound" was, the mere mention of Nero singing seemed to awaken long-buried horrors in her mind.

Grabbing "Alice" around the waist, Claire desperately tried to stop her. "His Majesty is the backbone of this kingdom. We can't afford to lose him! The prince is our future king—he's important too! If you really have to act, then maybe… just get rid of Elrode's First Prince instead!"

"How rude! I wasn't planning to 'get rid' of anyone!" "Alice" retorted indignantly. "I only wanted to sing for them!"

Listening to your singing might as well be a death sentence… At least that would be over quickly. Claire shuddered at the thought, her imagination painting a vivid, grisly picture.

"A political marriage... What a familiar, yet deeply bittersweet concept," "Alice" muttered with a distant expression.

"All it takes is one person sacrificing their future and happiness to secure benefits for a nation, provide welfare for its people, and achieve peace. From a rational perspective, it's an entirely logical trade—one life for countless others. When you weigh an individual against an entire kingdom on the scales, the answer is clear."

Political marriages were nothing new to Nero.

To secure Nero's rise to the throne, her mother, Agrippina the Younger, had committed numerous heinous acts.

Agrippina had poisoned her second husband, then married her uncle, Emperor Claudius, to become Empress. She consolidated Nero's power by manipulating Claudius into naming her as his heir while eliminating rival successors. To further strengthen Nero's position, Agrippina arranged for her to marry Claudius's daughter—Nero's own stepsister, Octavia.

Octavia was Nero's wife, but Nero felt no love for her. However, she could do nothing, as she was fully aware of her role as a pawn in her mother's schemes.

In the theater of power, Nero had been nothing more than a marionette. Strings bound every part of her being, dictating her every action. Her selfhood was unnecessary, even unwanted.

Agrippina held the strings, directing Nero's every move for her own benefit, the sole audience of a grim performance. Behind the curtain lay a mountain of corpses, their stench and dried blood seeped into the floorboards.

It wasn't until Nero used her mother's own methods—poison—to assassinate her that she finally cut her strings. She shed her identity as a puppet, a pawn, and without hesitation, burned the rotting theater of death to the ground, her mother's corpse included.

"...I seem to have recalled some unpleasant memories," "Alice" muttered, snapping back to reality.

Even though she currently inhabited Alice's body, a dull ache throbbed in her head, as if the memories were physically weighing her down.

Reflexively, she attempted to lift her hand to massage her temple, as she used to do when plagued by headaches. While it wasn't effective, it had always been somewhat comforting.

But this time, her hand didn't move.

"...Claire."

"Hm? Is something the matter, Nero?"

"Don't you think… you've been holding on to me for a little too long?"

"Eh? Have I?"

Claire began feigning innocence, but her arms betrayed her, still tightly wrapped around "Alice's" waist.

"Not to be rude… but while I know Nero is inside, this body undeniably belongs to Princess Alice. From her scent, to her soft skin, to the perfect proportions of every part of her…" Claire's voice trailed off as her cheeks flushed, and she let out an awkward, sharp exhale. "I-I apologize! I may have gotten carried away! To be honest, moments like this exist only in my wildest dreams! If this were the real Princess Alice, she'd have punched me into next week the moment I grabbed her—"

"If that's what you're hoping for, I can grant your wish right now!"

"Alice" shot back, her gaze sharp enough to pierce through any excuses Claire might have had.