Chapter 41: Princess Mia... Kicks High!

Mia watched the exchange between Abel and Sion from a distance. Judging from how they were interacting, it seemed like Abel had forgiven Sion.

Oh, what a relief... Good for you, Abel.

She felt a small rush of delight at the thought that he'd come to the same conclusion as her.

Also, after all this, Sion won't be going around with his nose in the air for a good while. Wonderful, she thought as she approached him with a smug grin.

"I'm glad to see you've been forgiven."

"Yes. All thanks to you, Mia."

He turned to face her and quietly bowed his head. Beside them, Abel gave a wry shrug.

"To be fair, my father wasn't entirely in the right either. I can't shift all the blame to Sunkland."

Abel's words struck a chord with Mia, who knew with intimate familiarity that responsibility did not lie solely with the conspiracy. Tearmoon's downfall was brought about as much by malice as its own internal corruption. Its reckoning was inevitable. That was why she'd put aside all her grievances. All except one.

"It would appear, Sion, that you have finally gotten a taste of failure."

Sion looked up at her, taken aback by her comment.

"This might come as a surprise to someone like you," she continued, "but we are all human. And humans will fail. No one lives perfectly. That is why we forgive, so that we may all have chances to make amends."

Especially me! she thought. Make sure I get my chances!

This was particularly important for her, because in the previous timeline she'd been afforded no such chance whatsoever. Now that the situation had calmed and she was thinking a little more clearly, a thought popped into her head.

"Actually, now that I think about it... Hrm..." she mused with her arms crossed.

If what happened in Remno is the same as what happened in Tearmoon, then that whole holier-than-thou attitude Sion had going all the time wasn't really just justified, was it? In that light... Huh, you know what? That actually makes me a little angry.

As she obliquely regarded his apologetic expression, Evil Mia began whispering in her ear.

Now's the perfect time to teach him a lesson. Do it. It'll be fine. No pain, no gain, right? It's for his own good.

...She waited for the counterargument in her other ear, but none came. Good Mia, you see, was slacking off on the job. This is why Mia gets herself into trouble sometimes.

"Sion, I believe you need a permanent reminder of what transpired today so that you will never forget your failure."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

Mia paused for dramatic effect before continuing in a solemn voice.

"Crime and punishment go hand in hand; the former concludes only when the latter is received. Prince Abel may have forgiven you, but is that truly enough to satisfy your own conscience?"

"Punishment?" Keithwood jumped at the word. "Wait, Princess Mia! You—"

Sion hushed his flustered attendant with one outstretched arm.

"It's fine. You... are right, Princess Mia. I shall gladly accept my punishment. What will it be?"

"Mmhmhm, your courage is commendable. Stand over there then," directed Mia.

Sion did as he was told and closed his eyes. Mia proceeded to circle him slowly, walking with the pompous air of an imperial inspector. Finally, she positioned herself behind him and lowered herself into a stance. Just like how Abel had doggedly practiced that one single swing, Mia had been honing something of her own. Ever since the day she was told by Anne that it didn't hurt, she'd been determined to improve the amount of hurt she could deliver with her signature move — the kick!

Oh, you'd better get ready, because I'm going to make this hurt so much!

So determined was she to inflict pain on Sion that she was willing to endure it in her own leg, and for a pain-phobe like Mia, that was saying something. She planted her feet and readied herself. Then she let it rip, kicking as high as she could. With the perfect arc of a pendulum, her leg swung toward Sion's head. Except it fell short of that... and his shoulders... and his waist... and just barely reached above his thighs.

In other words, she landed a direct hit on his butt! With a satisfying sound of impact to boot!

"Commit this pain to memory, Sion, and may it forever remind you of what transpired today!" she declared with a look of sublime triumph.

The pain Sion had been bracing for never came. Instead, he felt a slight bump on his rear. He turned and stared at Mia, baffled by the pathetically weak kick he'd just received.

"Um... What was—"

He stopped himself immediately.

Wait, that... had to be on purpose, right?

Crime and punishment went hand in hand. The former concluded only when the latter was received. The Great Sage of the Empire had posed him a question: "Is Abel's forgiveness enough for you to move on?" If crime concluded with punishment, then... where was his? That was why Mia had not spared him. To all onlookers, his punishment had now been carried out. There would be no more forthcoming. But it hadn't been. He knew, and he'd forever bear the weight of the knowledge that his dues were unpaid.

Therefore, his crime — and the guilt therewith — would linger, never to fade. Never again would he act in the name of justice without remembering his failure on this day. The pain of guilt would give him pause, forcing him to question himself. Over and over, he would need to ask if he was truly doing the right thing. And then, after finally overcoming the uncertainty and self-doubt, he would remember to forgive, just as he had once been forgiven. Faced with someone who had done wrong, the events of this day would serve as an eternal reminder of the need to show mercy and allow for the chance to make amends.

Commit this pain to memory, so that it may forever remind you of what transpired today, huh...

Judge fairly, and act justly... This had been said to him countless times when he was young. Now, for the first time in his life, he understood. He finally felt on a visceral level the true weight of those words and the difficulty of living up to them.

Many years later, Sion Sol Sunkland — hailed as the Libra King for his wise prudence and deep mercy — would speak nostalgically to his loyal vassal Keithwood about the events that had transpired one fateful day.

"That day was my crossroads. The turning point of my life. Had I not experienced that agony, I would surely have incurred the hatred of my people and lost my head to their wrath. Had I experienced it later, I would have been too set in my ways to admit to my wrongs."