Chapter 40: Mia’s “Legendary” Speech

For those who are starting to forget, it bears repeating that Mia was, in fact, born and raised a princess and therefore, was quite used to speaking in front of crowds. Back in the previous timeline there had been times when, accompanied by Ludwig, she would appear before large gatherings of people and give speeches, all the while being constantly insulted and struggling to project her voice over the angry din. Even so...

Th-This is sort of scary!

She shuddered a little at the concentrated onslaught of so many gazes. To be fair, it was only natural to feel nervous when a bunch of armed young men were all waiting with bated breath for her next words.

Geez, they could at least be nice enough to make some noise or something. It's so quiet I could hear a pin drop! How am I supposed to relax like this?

With truly royal arrogance, she mentally chastised her audience for failing to provide her with a suitably conversational environment. How dare they listen so intently? What if she fumbled a sentence? It'd be so embarrassing!

"Everyone, please lend me your ears. I am Mia Lun— Ack!" she said as her tongue failed to move out of the way of her teeth.

In a most timely display of karmic justice, she fumbled her opening sentence in the worst way possible, by bungling her own name. It was also rather painful, as she'd bit it in the exact same spot as last time. She hoped it wasn't going to turn into a canker.

As for her audience... They were caught completely off guard, and the tension on their faces vanished at once. A few burst out laughing. Most regarded the red-cheeked Mia with good-natured smiles. Ludwig, meanwhile, was stunned. He stared at her, awed by the fact that it'd taken her little more than half a sentence to capture the hearts of every soldier present.

"No way... Was that intentional too?" he murmured, blissfully ignorant of how far he was drifting from reality.

Mia had no such luck. She was intensely aware of her blunder and, visibly shaking from embarrassment, she shambled back toward Anne and buried her face in her shirt.

"...I don't want to do this anymore."

"M-Milady! Don't give up yet!"

"...I've never been so humiliated in my entire life!" she exclaimed, funneling her emotions into anger; it helped take her mind off her shame.

Not that she had anyone to get angry at, of course, considering it was entirely her own fault. Nevertheless, the outburst allowed her to collect herself, and she attempted her speech again... Only to realize there was a problem.

Huh. Now I remember. I have no speech.

It barely even needs to be said that Mia did not have a plan to stop the Remno army. The whole point of coming here was to see Abel. She hadn't put much thought into the matter to begin with, and now that her original objective was complete, she was even more clueless as to what should come next.

Wh-Wh-What should I do?

In an effort to hide her fluster, she put on a big, bright smile. Beaming from ear to ear, she swept her gaze across the surrounding soldiers, who found themselves further enamored by her charm. The power of a good bath was not to be underestimated; she positively glowed. She smiled and smiled. A drop of sweat rolled down her forehead.

I-I can't just keep smiling like this! I need to say something!

Some people find silence hard to bear, and start talking to compensate. This often results in them blabbing about things better left unsaid. Mia happened to be one of these people, and she felt a desperate need to fill the silence with her own voice. As a result, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"You know, I really wish all of you gentlemen from the Remno army would just pack up and go home."

Blunt. But honest, at least.

"Pack up... and go home? You expect us to leave the rebel army alone and withdraw? What you suggest is absolutely ludicrous!"

For obvious reasons, her request was not well received. Bernardo's objection came hard and fast, coupled with an angry glare that seemed to say, "What the hell is this girl talking about?" It made Mia flinch.

Eeek! Th-This man is terribly frightening! He reeks of something familiar... I know! I smelled the same thing from Captain Dion, and it's danger!

Being fixed with a menacing glare from the Remno commander finally sent enough of a jolt through Mia to get her brain working again. While took her long enough was definitely the right reaction to have here, one must also consider its idiomatic foil: better late than never. With her mental faculties in working order again, she concluded that there was but one way for her to escape this predicament.

"L-Ludicrous? The only thing that's ludicrous... is for you to be fighting each other."

Her method? Straight up flattery. Her message was, in essence, "This is a gathering of riffraff we're talking about. Self-respecting knights such as yourselves should not deign to brawl with the rabble."

Her sweet-talking, however, only darkened the mood, and a couple of soldiers even began to glower at her. The explanation wasn't complicated; from their perspective, it felt like they were putting their lives on the line to fight for peace and order, only to have their courage belittled. Some of the soldiers wore puzzled frowns. It would have been understandable if her criticism were levied at the ethicality of slaughtering civilians. They could even stomach her condemnation if she were arguing entirely from a pacifistic point of view, as the fear of conflict could certainly push a young girl to voice her opposition to war and bloodshed.

Her language suggested it was neither. Of all the things she could have said, she chose to throw Bernardo's words right back at him, describing their actions as ludicrous. Not cruel, not immoral, but ludicrous. Why?

By this point, rumors about Mia had begun to spread throughout Remno. Those familiar with Prince Abel had heard stories from him about the Great Sage of the Empire, who'd turned the weak-willed prince into a dependable young lord. Slowly, the crowd began to doubt the righteousness of their mission.

"If the Great Sage of the Empire says this battle is ludicrous," they thought to themselves, "then maybe it actually is?"

Doubt crept into their hearts. Unsettled, they waited on her next words with growing anticipation.

Eek! I-I can't believe my lip service isn't working on these people!

Mia had never been a smooth talker, so, despite what she thought of herself, ineffectual lip service was actually the norm for her. Nevertheless, she astutely picked up on the shifting sentiments in the soldiers' gazes. Some were now infused with curiosity; others, with anger. Cold sweat dripped down the back of her neck as it occurred to her that she might be in a precarious position. She opened her mouth to speak... and a voice rang out. It took her a moment to realize it wasn't her own.

"Now isn't that an intriguing choice of words, Mia. In fact, I believe this isn't the first time you've used such perturbing language. What did you say the other day again? That 'something didn't add up'?" said a now-bandaged Sion as he crossed his arms and gave her a thoughtful look.

"That's it!"

She jumped on it. She had no idea what "it" was, but she jumped on it anyway. Anything to change the topic.

"Y-You're absolutely right!" she continued. "I did say that. Something doesn't add up."

Luckily, as soon as she said it, she felt it again — the unpleasant sense that something shapeless and invisible was stuck to her thoughts. It really didn't add up. Something about this whole situation was entirely wrong. It wasn't so much reasoned analysis as it was intuition — an unconscious insight gained in her previous life when the embers of Tearmoon's revolution had yet to burst into flame.

She'd spent those days watching the empire crumble in agonizing detail as Ludwig delivered her report after dreadful report in his trademark caustic tone. The things she'd seen since coming to Remno were far removed from the Tearmoon of her past. However, the cause of insurrection and the ensuing sequence of events were disconcertingly similar.

The parallel between Outcount Rudolvon and the Chancellor Dasayev Donovan was striking. In both cases, the persecution of a noble who took the people's side triggered a popular revolt. Mirrored again was the subsequent intervention by the Kingdom of Sunkland, who stepped in to save the masses from the tyranny of their own ruler. What were the chances that two locations with completely different conditions would see the same sequence of events play out?

No way. That can't possibly be coincidence.

Viewed in this light, it was almost as if someone was trying to set Sunkland up to look like a crusader of justice. Was it the wish of a higher power? Or the doings of a demonic will?

"It feels almost like... we're dealing with a terribly devious scheme."

At that, a problem occurred to her.

Wait a minute... But how am I supposed to explain this to everyone?

Indeed, she'd be hard-pressed to explain why things didn't add up, seeing as her reasoning was based on experiences from a previous life.

Wh-What should I do?!

As she quickly descended into panic, an unexpected voice came to her rescue.

"A devious scheme, you say... Interesting. Do you suggest, then, that this revolt is the product of conspiracy? That there are nefarious actors who seek to divide our kingdom through unrest, and that we are but hapless fools playing into their hands as we shed the blood of our brethren? Is that why... you referred to this battle as ludicrous, Your Highness?" asked Bernardo. His eyes were still fixed on Mia, but the menace that had colored them was replaced by intrigue.

"Eh?"

Mia gaped as her two loyal subjects chimed in as well.

"Your Highness saw through this conspiracy so swiftly. Again, I am awed by your wisdom."

"You're amazing, milady!"

The only one unmoved was Dion, who crossed his arms and watched the proceedings from the sidelines.

"Which would suggest that Prince Sion knew as well..." Bernardo mused as he turned toward Sion. "Was that why you risked your life in a duel to stop His Highness?"

Sion shook his head.

"No, I—"

Two dainty hands slammed across his mouth.

Wh-What in the moons do you think you're doing?! There's a time for honesty, and there's a time to not be stupid! Why would you say no when everyone's ready to wrap things up and move on?!

Sure, Sion's reason for fighting Abel might have stemmed from a clash of ideals and a mutual refusal to bend rather than knowledge of a conspiracy, and yes, pretending it was the latter might be disrespectful toward Abel and sort of unscrupulous... But Mia couldn't care less about propriety right now. Keeping Sion firmly muffled, she hastily formulated a line of logic to convince him to shut up. The speed with which she did so was breathtaking, knocking out a personal best for cerebral rpm in the process.

"U-Uh, more specifically, I'd say you're maybe about half right."

"Half right?"

Bernardo raised an eyebrow at her. The gesture was mimicked by Sion, to whom she hastily whispered, "Look, you came here to protect me, right? Which means if my goal was to deal with this devious scheme thing, then that has to be one of your goals too. So on one hand, you have whatever you came to do, and on the other, you have what I came to do. Half and half, so he's half right. Right?"

She spoke in a tone that suggested she was not going to take no for an answer.

"Well, I suppose you could say that—"

"Good! Then it's settled!"

She declared this with a tone of utter finality before turning slightly rabid eyes on the surrounding soldiers.

Well?! How's that?! S-Surely, that was enough to convince them!

Seeing that nobody voiced any complaints, her expression brightened with relief. Right at that moment, Bernardo spoke.

"Unfortunately..." His voice was grim. "That is no reason for us to leave, Your Highness. While I do wish to hear your basis for suspecting foul play... Even if you do provide concrete proof of the existence of such individuals, our mission remains unchanged. We must still disband the rebel army and restore order to this town."

Oh no... I-I figured it wasn't going to be that easy, but still...

She hung her head, crestfallen...

"The same, I suspect, is true for them. Upon learning that their taxes will not be lowered, I likewise doubt the rebel army will lower their weapons."

...Only to perk up again at Bernardo's statement.

"My, I do believe you are mistaken. What the rebel army — that is, the people involved in this uprising — is demanding is the release of the Chancellor, Dasayev Donovan."

Her reply sent a wave of commotion rolling through the Remno army.

"...Your Highness, have you received word from His Majesty that Lord Donovan has been imprisoned?" asked Bernardo.

"No... He never mentioned anything of the sort. This is the first time I've heard of such a thing."

Abel, who'd returned from having his injuries treated, shook his head in bewilderment. Mia gave him a quick once-over and, seeing that he'd sustained no major injuries, breathed a sigh of relief.

"I see... It appears then that we would be wise to listen to Her Highness in this regard. Should we manage to rescue Lord Donovan from his mysterious captors, then we may indeed succeed in convincing the rebel army to stand down, but... Until we know where he is being held, there is precious little we can do," said Bernardo.

Dion nodded. "As a matter of fact, I was just thinking about that myself. Being all wise and sagely," he said, glancing at Mia, "I assume Her Highness has already figured out where we should go to find him. Thing is, are we going to discover a man or a body?"

The Chancellor was no hostage. He was a lit fuse — a mere instrument — for inciting the masses to revolt. There was no need to keep him alive. Indeed, his trans-dimensional counterpart, Outcount Rudolvon, had not survived his role as the catalyst of Tearmoon's revolution. Dion's concern was very reasonable given the circumstances.

"Eh?"

Obvious, unless you were Mia, of course. She no longer had any control over the conversation, and it had plunged forward, leaving her lost in the dust.

"Uh... Huh? That's... uh..."

Faced again with a question she couldn't answer, help came — again — from an unexpected source.

"Allow me to answer that question."

Hearing a familiar voice, she spun to find Keithwood smiling awkwardly as he scratched at his mop of red hair. Perched on his shoulder was a bird with a beautiful coat of black feathers.

"Keithwood!" exclaimed Sion. "You're safe! And— Wait... what's with the crow?"

The young attendant shrugged.

"Depends on who's asking, I guess. For them, a herald of fortune. But for us... probably a bringer of bad news."

The seeds Mia sowed had spread far and wide, burying themselves in the soil of distant lands. As they grew, they lifted the heart of a certain black bird. The bird then returned the favor, carrying the young saplings, now infused with Monica's message of hope, back into the hands of the one who could avert this tragedy — the Great Sage of the Empire.

The time of their bloom drew ever closer.

"I'd like to report to Prince Sion first. Please excuse us."

Mia waited for Keithwood and Sion to distance themselves before approaching Abel. She figured they had some time before anything else could happen.

"Prince Abel, are you all right?"

"Yes, thanks to your two-sworded vassal over there. If the duel had continued, I might not be standing here right now. It looks like I still have a lot more training to do."

As he spoke, Mia realized something.

Is it just me... or does he look to be in even better shape than before? My...

The last time they'd met was before the summer holidays. Compared to then, he was a little taller, more muscular, and generally had a more regal air. A mesmerized sigh escaped her lips as she beheld the maturing prince.

"Hm? What's the matter, Princess Mia?" he asked with one eyebrow raised.

Only then did Mia realize she'd been openly ogling him, and she hastily averted her gaze.

"N-Nothing! Nothing at all."

"Are you sure? You look a little flushed... Maybe you pushed yourself too hard coming here."

"My, how considerate. But if anyone has been pushing themselves, I'd say it was you— Ah!" Suddenly, she remembered something. "Hmph! I'm not falling for that! You're a terrible person and I hate you!"

"Wha— Falling for what? What did I do?"

She pointed an accusing finger at the flustered prince.

"You know very well what you did, Prince Abel! You ignored me back there and went off to do something terribly dangerous! I bet you didn't even spare a thought for how I would feel!" Then, with the most indignant of hmphs, she looked away, her arms crossed and her expression crosser. "And then there's Sion... I can't believe him! He actually tried to hurt you! The two of you, I swear... "

The thought made her so upset that she bristled with anger. Abel watched her with a faint smile. At first, it was fond. Then, it turned wistful.

"I'm Prince Abel, but he... He's just Sion, huh..."

His voice was barely more than a whisper. For a few seconds, Mia stared at him, confused by what he meant. Then it hit her.

Oh? Do I smell jealousy? Is he upset that I don't sound as close to him as I do Sion?

She identified his concealed emotions with masterful precision. Mia's instincts, you see, were razor-sharp when it counted — during the most frivolous, inconsequential situations. Having glimpsed into his heart, a small grin spread across her lips.

To be making such a big fuss over what we call each other... Oh, he's such a boy. How adorable.

She regarded him with smug superiority, blissfully ignorant of the profound hypocrisy therein. This was, after all, the same person who'd gone into a tailspin when Sion had dropped the "princess" from her name. Fortunately for her, such inconvenient facts had long drifted past the distant horizon of her memory.

"That was to hide our identities. There's no deeper meaning behind it. We are technically undercover right now."

"Ah, I see. So that's why. I'm... glad to hear it."

The sight of his relieved smile pleased her even more. At this point, she was practically glowing with delight, having wrapped all her anger and indignation into a ball and hurled it past the same horizon that had consumed her prior memories. The horizon of her memory, you see, was never more than a stone's throw away.

Oh, what am I going to do with you. All right, all right, you win. I suppose I'll drop the "prince" for you as well. In fact, seeing as you're still a child, it's quite normal for a mature young lady like me to call you "Abel."

So, with the abundant confidence of an adult, she spoke to the young prince in a voice filled with maturity and composure.

"U-Uh... So, um... A-A... A-A-Ab..."

Maturity and composure. What do those words mean again?

"I... I won't mind if you, um, c-c-call me... Mia. And I'll, um... call you... A-A... A-A-Abel."

She stammered and sputtered, trying to say his name. In the end, she only succeeded by appending a very quiet "prince" to the front. Fortunately, he didn't seem to hear that part, and his eyes went wide in shock. It took her a dozen tries and stressed her out to no end, but she finally managed to say his name by itself. Abel beamed.

"Really?! It would be an absolute honor for me!"

Pure delight radiated from him like the innocence of a child, which, juxtaposed against the burgeoning maturity he'd displayed moments before, proved mutually accentuating and captured Mia's heart. It pounded out a rapid staccato in her chest as her cheeks grew hot and her vision swam. She swayed a little, feeling like she was floating a few inches off the ground. The abundant confidence of an adult was nowhere to be seen.

"Uh, so... In that case... M-Mia?"

"Y-Yes?!"

Hearing her name made her straighten like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Breathing hard, she ventured a response.

"U-Um... Yes, Abel?"

Then, overwhelmed by embarrassment, she turned her reddened face downward. For the next little while, the two fledgling lovebirds shared in that unique abashed air of the romance of youth. A ways off from them, the atmosphere surrounding Sion and Keithwood was a world of difference as they spoke to each other with grim expressions. Eventually, the Sunkland pair concluded their discussion and returned to the group. Sion's face was a tad pale.

"Prince Abel, Mia... I need to tell you something."

His voice was stiff, and he spoke the words like they had barbs.

"What's the matter, Sion? You look like you've seen a ghost."

She was about to follow up with a quip to the effect of "Though the ghost would probably look worse after seeing you" but thought better of it when she noticed his face was ashen, the skin so devoid of color he barely looked alive. With a gulp, she asked again, "Sion? What's wrong?"

He didn't answer her. Instead, he stepped in front of Abel. Then he dropped to his knees, pressed his hands on the ground, and prostrated himself before the other prince.

"Eeek?!"

Startled by the abruptness of the gesture, Mia gasped and backed off a few steps before quickly glancing at the sky to check if any farm animals had taken flight. She wasn't practicing a comedy routine; it really was that shocking. Sion Sol Sunkland had just done a full on head-to-ground bow; pigs flying would be less bizarre. Faced with the extraordinary sight of a humbled Sion, Mia was overcome with triumph. Or rather, she would have been, if she wasn't completely creeped out. She had literal goosebumps.

It's extremely satisfying to watch him go down on his knees, but this has to be some sort of bad omen or something, right? I mean, him? On his knees? No way that's not a sign of something terrible to come.

An objective bystander would have pointed out that was a very rude thing to think, but no one had access to her thoughts, so her indelicate commentary went unnoticed. While she watched the scene unfold in stunned silence, Abel spoke up.

"Stabbing swordsellers... Prince Sion, what is the meaning of this? Please, get up. Whatever you have to say, you don't have to do it like this," he said, kneeling down as well.

Sion kept his head down.

"I'm sorry, Prince Abel... I owe you an apology."

"What do you mean?" asked Abel, his expression growing tense.

His answer came from Keithwood, who stepped forward to answer in his master's place.

"Our kingdom operates an intelligence unit known as the Wind Crows. We have discovered that one of its squads has gone rogue. The members of that squad are the true culprits behind this dilemma we're faced with."

As Keithwood divulged the truth of their situation, Mia's jaw hit the ground. It was a decidedly unprincesslike expression, but at this moment in time, looking like a clown practicing in front of a mirror was the least of her concerns.

Wh-Wh-What in the moons?!

She tried to make sense of what she'd just heard, but her thoughts went round and round in futile circles.

B-But... I suppose it makes sense. The revolts in Tearmoon and Remno both worked out in Sunkland's favor, so it's not much of a stretch to imagine that Sunkland could have been behind them...

She closed her eyes. The next thing she knew, she was staring up at the guillotine again as the bleeding sun dyed everything crimson. She remembered the din of the crowd, the scent of wood, and the chilling terror of her impending death. Except now, the roles were all wrong. The heroes were villains; the convict was the judge. The chain of events that had led to this horrific moment... was all Sunkland's doing. Sunkland had paved the road to the guillotine, and then sentenced her to death for walking it.

She shook her head, and the moment passed. When she opened her eyes again, there was no bleeding sun and no guillotine. There was only Sion, his head pressed firmly to the ground. She regarded him for a long moment, and then she understood.

Ah... This is mine too, isn't it? This apology... In a way, it's also meant for me.

Maybe it was karma. Or perhaps a whim of fate. Whatever it was, it offered closure. Justice was served; vengeance, concluded. By all measures, it should have been a moment of triumph. And yet...

This is... not a sight that feels good to look upon.

Something bitter and stifling roiled in her heart — not an ache, but close — and for some reason, she knew that even if she were to take the blade of judgment and use it to slice through Sion's neck, her shapeless affliction was unlikely to subside. The realization didn't surprise her either. In fact, it seemed all too obvious. They'd gone to school together. They'd traveled together. To then derive pleasure from watching the condemnation of someone with whom so much had been shared was unthinkable for all but the most wicked hearted.

Sion's stubborn, so he's probably tied down by all sorts of things... but there's no need for me to follow his philosophy.

If she didn't like something, then she didn't like it, and that was that. Mia First applied as much to interests as it did emotions.

But... I wonder what Abel intends to do?

The one who concerned her now was Abel. He had the right to pass judgment on Sion — to seek penalty for that which had been done. It would be the same approach and attitude that Sion himself had always employed. Those who held power bore responsibility. It was their duty to bring criminals to justice.

In this case, technically, the one who sabotaged the Kingdom of Remno wasn't Sion himself. Responsibility would fall first to Sunkland, and therefore, its king. Sion would never settle for such an arrangement. It went against everything he'd been taught and all the values by which he bound himself. In his eyes, he was not free of guilt.

Mia swallowed. Her lips felt dry. She watched with bated breath as Abel, still kneeling, moved a little closer to Sion.

"Please rise, Prince Sion. Such conduct does not become you."

"But..."

"You can keep staring at the ground all you want if it makes you feel better, but if you ask me... When it comes to taking responsibility for your actions, I believe royalty should do so in a manner befitting royalty."

"A manner befitting royalty..."

"Our duty is to our people, and through our rule, to deliver them peace and pleasure. I thought the only way to terminate this conflict was through the sword. However... someone has shown me that I was wrong. That there is another way to put an end to this 'ludicrous' battle..."

Abel glanced at Mia, and his expression softened. Then he spoke to Sion again.

"The way has already been lit for us. All that is left to us is to walk it. Am I wrong?"

"...I see. It is as you say." Sion let out a resigned breath and got up onto his feet. "I can lower my head. I can beg forgiveness. I can even wish to be condemned... but in the end, it's little more than the theatrics of a guilty conscience seeking an excuse to be absolved. Is that right?"

"We were saved from ourselves, you and I both. Now we have been given a chance to do what is right with these mantles we bear. It is my belief that we should approach it with gratitude and commitment."

"Commitment... to walk this precious path the Great Sage of the Empire has lit for us."

The two of them looked as one toward Mia, who approached them with a satisfied smile.