"Are you all right?"
Jann looked over in confusion.
Tales struggled to adjust his ragged breathing, careful not to give anything away.
"Yes," Tales forced a smile and pushed away the plate of lettuce he had used for appearances:
"I'm just full. It's a bit hard to stomach."
Jann fell silent for a moment, his gaze sharpening.
"So in your eyes, vassals like me are still the root of all evil? The source of the chaos plaguing the country for the sake of private desires?"
Tales neither admitted nor denied it.
He looked toward the Duke, trying to forget the scene he had witnessed in his mind:
"Perhaps."
"But that isn't an accusation, because you were powerless to do anything."
Powerless to do anything.
Jann savored those words for a while.
He spoke without expression:
"If that's how you put it, then everything is inevitable, and there's no room left between us?"
Tales looked at the Duke for a long time.
He suddenly remembered their first meeting. Back then, they had both encountered assassins sent by Arendt—according to Fuse, they had been agents of Shadow Shield.
If that hidden assassin suddenly jumped out now, wouldn't Jann once again end up taking the blade meant for him?
Tales shook off the pointless thought. After a moment of silence, he shook his head:
"Who knows?"
"But now that the crisis has arrived, new demands will inevitably spring from it."
Tales stared into the distance:
"I think that when history grows tired of repeating itself, when people grow tired of conflict, when nations grow tired of internal strife... when the time comes, the absolute, singular, supreme power of the monarch may once again be called upon, needed, and pushed to center stage in history."
Jann frowned.
"Just as before, after the uncompromising kings