"What's wrong, Ruslan?"
"You don't seem to be in a very good mood. Is it because of those children I locked up?"
Ophelia and Sigurd were not in the great hall, and Thrud had hidden herself away. Ruslan, dressed like a soldier, stood alone at the side of the hall with his arms folded and head lowered, as though lost in thought.
"You misunderstand, Your Majesty. I have no intention of commenting on how you deal with your own children. Of course, I do not believe there is anything wrong with your methods, either."
Ruslan raised his head, forcing a faint smile as he waved a hand.
"I merely feel that this Lostbelt will not remain peaceful for long—that is all."
"Oh? What makes you say that? Go on."
"Though you do not flaunt your ambitions and instead bury them deep in your heart, you are, like that man called Kirschtaria, no simple person."
The Queen leaned closer with interest and looked at Ruslan.
She naturally knew just how much Ruslan loved to hide himself.
Aside from certain emotions, even his appearance was something he used to conceal himself.
He could be said to be the complete opposite of Kirschtaria—a man who would never show his face unless absolutely necessary.
"It is merely a feeling, Your Majesty. You need not concern yourself with it."
"My purpose in coming here is simply to obtain the right to visit the prisoners—that requires your permission."
"Of course, there is no need to worry that I will become an accomplice to those criminals. I only wish to see the child called Norla."
Ruslan shook his head, showing no intention of saying any more.
"I see. Then go."
"I will permit it."
The Queen smiled.
She was always compassionate.
"So—we made it in."
In the