"Your Highness, Galahad has returned."
"Good. Let him rest for a while, then have him come report to me." The prince smiled and nodded at Ewan.
The old butler nodded, then left the room.
The prince waited for a moment, only turning his head to look at the empty air beside him once he was sure Ewan's footsteps had faded away. "Do you think he believed it?"
"Not necessarily. But at least he's willing to work for us now." The prince's soul sighed.
He had insisted on this. Previously, his butler Ewan had seen at a glance that this "prince" was an impostor. At the time, Blood Port's situation had been unstable, and Isabella had chosen to imprison Ewan outright.
By her reckoning, he should have been killed to prevent future trouble. But the prince's soul had disagreed, even attempting to threaten her—though he had nothing with which to threaten her.
Still, it had at least amused her. Isabella had been in a good mood, so Ewan survived.
Now that there was no longer a second voice in Blood Port, there was no harm in releasing Ewan. So the two of them worked together and put on a show: an unfamiliar soul had attempted to possess him, only to be killed by him in return. This convinced Ewan that the prince was now truly the prince.
"Enough. I don't have time to play these little games with you. How is the investigation into the Mother Goddess Church going?"
The desk before them had been replaced. It was much longer than the previous one, and its surface was crammed with all manner of documents.
This was a new function Isabella had recently developed. Although the prince's soul had no way to affect the real world, he could still read documents.
For