Secret Rendezvous

Calca sat down again and let out a long breath.

"How was it?"

She looked to either side.

"There were no signs that he was lying."

Remedios spoke first.

"My instincts tell me he's an honest man."

"Hehehe..."

Kelart chuckled softly.

"My sister's wild instincts have never been wrong. But I don't think it was that he wasn't lying. Rather, he simply had no need to lie."

"Didn't you notice? We kept pressing him with so many questions, yet he never showed the slightest sign of anger."

She turned to look at her sister.

"Sister, if you were being questioned during a meal by several people far weaker than you—if they kept asking you question after question—would you answer them so obediently and calmly?"

Remedios considered it for a moment, then shook her head without hesitation.

"What do you mean?"

Calca asked.

"Why would someone with that kind of strength need to lie to the three of us?"

Kelart's gaze fell upon the wineglass Higashino Makoto had used.

"What he wanted to say was what we wanted to hear. What he didn't want to say, we simply couldn't pry out of him."

Calca fell silent.

She knew Kelart was right.

Over the course of the banquet, they had asked five questions.

Higashino Makoto had answered all five. Every answer had been honest, every one frank.

Yet they still knew nothing about the man.

Where had he come from?

Why did he possess such power?

What was this force of his that he had mentioned?

What did he truly want?

Those even more important questions remained unanswered.

"We'll take it slowly."

Calca rose and walked to the window, gazing into the pitch-black night sky beyond.

"At least for now, he stands on our side."

"I hope so."

Kelart said softly.

Remedios said nothing.

Her hand had remained on the hilt of Holy Sword Safalicia the entire time.

From the beginning of the banquet to its end.

Three days after the banquet, Calca invited Higashino Makoto again.

This time, the meeting place was not the reception hall, but a private study deep within the royal palace.

The room was not large. Towering bookshelves covered all four walls, packed tightly with parchment scrolls and leather-bound ancient books.

The fire crackled in the fireplace, bathing the entire room in a warm orange-red glow.

There were no attendants, no guards. Only Calca and Higashino Makoto sat facing one another.

Rita had been left outside, and Calca's personal maid had also been dismissed.

This was a decision the Holy Queen had reached after much consideration.

Some things could not be said in public.

Some vulnerabilities could not be revealed before one's subjects.

Calca wore a simple white dress without any jewelry, her golden hair merely draped loosely over her shoulders.

She looked less like a queen and more like an ordinary young woman.

An ordinary woman being tormented by some troubling concern.

Higashino Makoto sat in an armchair across from her, holding a cup of black tea Calca had personally poured.

He was not wearing that suit of silver-white armor, but a dark robe that looked as though it had been bought on short notice from some noble's shop.

After all, he had plenty of money. There was no need to make himself uncomfortable.

The only things in his luggage were his armor and a change of underclothes; he had no casual attire suitable for wearing in the royal palace.

After learning that he was coming to keep the appointment, Rita had taken Higashino Makoto to a shop to buy this outfit.

"Mr. Higashino, thank you for agreeing to come."

Calca held her teacup in both hands, her fingertips turning faintly white from the force of her grip.

"Your Majesty is too courteous."

Higashino Makoto's tone was as calm as it had been three days earlier.

"You said there was something important you wished to discuss with me. Naturally, I had to come."

Calca lowered her head and stared at the deep red tea in her cup, remaining silent for a long time.

A log in the fireplace cracked sharply. Sparks flew against the fire screen and went out at once.

"Mr. Higashino, do you think..."

Calca finally spoke, her voice much softer than usual.

"Am I a qualified ruler?"

Higashino Makoto did not answer immediately.

He looked at Calca—at her faintly trembling lashes, at the fingers clenched tightly around her cup, at the stubborn resolve on her face as she tried to preserve her dignity.

"Does Your Majesty want an honest answer, or one that will make you feel better?"

Calca raised her head. A flicker of surprise passed through her blue eyes before turning into a bitter smile.

"An honest answer."

She said.

"I want to hear the truth from someone like you, someone with no need to flatter me."

"Unqualified."

The three words came crisp and direct, without preamble, embellishment, or any attempt to soften the blow.

Calca's fingers tightened sharply. The tea sloshed in the cup, several drops spilling onto the hem of her white dress.

She did not wipe them away. She merely stared at Higashino Makoto, complex emotions churning in those beautiful blue eyes.

Shock, resentment, grievance, and a trace of indescribable relief.

"Why?"

Her voice was slightly hoarse.

"Because you are too weak."

Higashino Makoto set down his teacup and leaned forward slightly, clasping his hands over his knees.

His gaze rested calmly on Calca. There was no mockery in it, nor pity.

He was merely stating a fact.

"Weak?"

Calca's voice rose slightly, carrying a hint of suppressed anger.

"I learned fourth-tier magic at fifteen. At eighteen, I broke through the restrictions of the line of succession and became the Holy Kingdom's first queen. In nearly ten years of ruling, I have never made any major mistake. I can accept you saying I am unqualified. But to call me weak—"

"I am not talking about your ability."

Higashino Makoto interrupted her.

Calca's words caught in her throat.

"Your Majesty, your talents are beyond question. Mastering fourth-tier faith magic at fifteen was indeed outstanding in the history of the Holy Kingdom. Your tactful way of dealing with people has also allowed you to navigate relations with nobles, temples, and other nations with ease."

Higashino Makoto's tone remained calm, yet every word was like a blade, cutting precisely into the place Calca least wished to touch.

"But those are not the core qualities needed to govern a nation."

"Then what are those core qualities?"

"The courage to do dirty work."

The study fell silent. The flames in the fireplace flickered, casting shifting light and shadow across their faces.

"In my eyes, the hands of a good king will absolutely be stained with the blood of many innocents."

Calca opened her mouth, wanting to say something, only to find that she could say nothing at all.

The courage to do dirty work.

She understood what those words meant.

"You refuse to do ruthless, underhanded dirty work."

Higashino Makoto continued.

"You were too concerned with keeping yourself spotless, too concerned with your image. You wanted to forever remain the Holy Queen whom the people called the 'Saintess,' forever remain the perfect ruler whose smile was like an angel's halo. But that was not how one governed a nation."

"I have Kelart—"

Calca tried to defend herself.

"Kelart Custodio did indeed make up for your shortcomings in that regard."

Higashino Makoto nodded without refuting her.

"But there was only so much she could do. You were the Holy Queen, the final decision-maker. There were things only you could do. Decisions only you could make. If you refused to dirty your own hands, then you would forever be at the mercy of those willing to dirty theirs."

Calca fell silent.

She knew Higashino Makoto was right.

She had always known.

It was not as though she did not know how to deal with the southern nobles' opposition to her rule.

But she chose to endure, to wait, to slowly resolve things through gentler means.

It was not as though she did not know how to strike back against the nobles' schemes in the shadows.

But she chose to let Kelart handle those "dirty" matters, while keeping her own hands clean.

She had thought that was clever.

She had thought that was wise.

But now, someone who had known her for less than five days was telling her to her face—

That it was weakness.

"Do you know how the Bloody Emperor Jircniv evaluated you? He is an emperor I admire greatly."

Higashino Makoto suddenly asked.

Calca's eyelashes trembled.

"What did he say?"

"He said that although you clearly possessed the talent of a king, you had mistaken what truly mattered, and it was unpleasant to behold."

Those words were like a needle, piercing precisely into the softest part of Calca's heart.

She had heard that assessment before.

She knew that the young emperor of the Empire looked down on her.

But she had always told herself that it was only because Jircniv was too cold-hearted to understand her position as the Holy Queen.

But now...

"He was right."