By the time the news reached the royal palace, it was already late that night.
Standing in Calca's study, Kelart recounted everything that had happened on the streets of the commoners' district that day, exactly as it had occurred.
How Higashino Makoto had been stopped by the father who had lost his son.
How he had said, "I have no obligation to save your son."
How he had said that he "would only protect the part he had sworn to protect."
And how he had left behind a handkerchief before turning and walking away.
After hearing it all, Calca remained silent for a long time.
She sat behind her desk, a quill in her hand, its tip hovering over the parchment for what seemed like an eternity without touching down.
Candlelight cast shifting shadows across her face. Complex emotions churned in those blue eyes—not anger or disappointment, but something deeper.
"Your Majesty?"
Kelart called softly.
"I understand."
Calca set down the quill.
"You may leave now."
"Your Majesty..."
"I want to be alone for a while."
Kelart looked at Calca's profile, seeming as though she wanted to say something, but in the end, she merely bowed and withdrew from the study.
The sound of the door closing echoed through the empty room.
Calca leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.
She did not cry.
She had cried on the battlefield during the day.
It had been at the moment of victory, before everyone's eyes, when she had shed tears that the Holy Queen should not have so easily shed.
But now, in the dead of night with no one but herself present, she could not cry at all.
"I have no obligation."
Those four words echoed over and over in her mind.
She knew Higashino Makoto had been