Chapter 227

To the One Who Survived (2)

The festival period was chaotic. I had to attend various events, assist with academic scholarship work, continue camp life, and not neglect personal training. Consequently, I never felt like I truly enjoyed the festival.

The only notable thing was that Princess Sella had been mentioning my name quite frequently in official settings. During a meeting with Vice-Headmaster Rachel, she asked various questions about the student named Ed Rothtaylor. She mentioned Ed Rothtaylor in her speech on the central stage and even apologized at a prayer meeting presided over by the saint for the rudeness at the Rothtaylor mansion. It was as if she had decided to win me over at any cost, approaching me with a sincerity that contrasted starkly with her previous arrogance.

Additionally, there were numerous letters sent by her butler, Dest. During the festival, while staying at Sylvania Academy, she sent me a letter every day, each one handwritten and quite lengthy. It was easy to imagine her sitting at a private desk in the VIP guesthouse every night, writing with a quill. The content was full of romantic phrases, almost like a love letter, but the conclusion was always the same: she wanted me to join her side.

"The nights on Acken Island are chilly. Does this mean autumn is coming? Time flies so quickly. It's been quite some time since we faced each other during the Rothtaylor mansion incident, but I feel we haven't deeply understood each other. I'll be direct. I want to understand you better. It's not just about finding a political compromise, but I genuinely want to know you. Will you tell me about the hardships of your life and the beliefs you have upheld? I believe there must be some part of your solitary but steadfast life that connects with mine."

"The festival's excitement continues. I visited the dormitory today, thinking it was where you live, and it felt special. Watching students singing peacefully in the festive atmosphere made me think: conflict creates nothing."

"I am confident that if we end our rivalry and join hands, a better future awaits us. I can offer you the best treatment. I can guarantee you power within the royal family comparable to when Crebin was the head of the household."

"Let's end the enmity. The tragedy at the Rothtaylor mansion was merely an aberration caused by Crebin. We can create a new future together. While our visions of this beautiful blueprint might differ, I believe we can lay the foundation for a greater empire through dialogue."

Reading such respectful letters felt completely different from what I had experienced when I met Princess Sella. Whenever I finished reading a letter, Dest, who delivered it, would politely ask me, "Princess Sella is waiting. Will you accompany me?"

I would simply shake my head in response. The next day, another letter would arrive.

"I anticipated you might not accept my invitation. You likely want to continue supporting Phoenia. But think carefully. Would it truly be a happy thing for her to become emperor? She never aspired to power. She grew up hearing she was a kind princess who always listened to those beneath her."

"However, an emperor must inevitably incur someone's resentment. A ruler must have the courage to turn half the population against them with their decisions. Do you think Phoenia is capable of that? She will likely stumble over the harsh realities and be left struggling."

"I can protect Phoenia's gentle heart. As long as you efficiently handle matters by my side, Phoenia can continue to live as a benevolent and kind princess in the Rose Palace, thinking of her people. Isn't that a proper division of roles?"

The following day's letter offered Phoenia's happiness. Believing that Phoenia and I were particularly close, Sella saw this as a viable gambit. However, this only reminded me more of what Phoenia had urgently told me.

"You must never fall for Sella's schemes."

"Once she succeeds in capturing something, she loses all interest. Sella's greed grows only when she discovers something she can't have. No matter what proposals or approaches Sella makes, the moment you give in, Ed, your value will plummet."

It's quite a paradoxical situation. To protect my value, I must reject all offers that recognize it highly.

"Princess Sella is waiting. Will you accompany me?"

Sitting by the campfire, I shook my head again at Dest's words. The next day, another letter would arrive.

"I respect your firm resolve. However, I can assure you that if you join me, I will undoubtedly become the emperor of this empire. I can guarantee your success. I can help the Rothtaylor family become the most prestigious family in the empire once again."

"I need you, Ed Rothtaylor. I want you to be my ally. I earnestly desire you."

The letter openly requested me to join her faction, conveying a sense of desperation. Of course, it's just a letter. Whether the writer is genuinely desperate is unknown. She is a lifelong politician, and a few words on paper can't convey true sincerity.

When Dest asked if I would accompany him, I shook my head again.

"I spent all day today thinking about you, Ed Rothtaylor. It's not just a political maneuver; I believe there are other reasons for this."

"Somehow, your voice and face have seeped into my heart. Whenever I have a moment, I recall memories of you. Of course, personal emotions shouldn't influence politics. But as a woman, sometimes my heart feels a warmth I can't ignore."

"I'm curious about you. I want to know the steadfast loyalty that allows you to stand firm before a princess. I wish you would direct that loyalty toward me. I want you by my side when I review matters in my office."

"I yearn for you, Ed Rothtaylor. Please, support me on the path I walk."

The next day's letter sold her affection. But I never believed it. At this point, it was getting scary. How far would this princess go to get what she wanted? Her greed was almost eerie.

"Princess Sella is waiting. Please accompany her."

As usual, I shook my head. This cycle continued until the day the festival ended.

The final day of the festival arrived. I heard that tonight, with a grand fireworks display at the student square, the Sylvania Academy festival would conclude. Although the empire's overall festival period would continue, Emperor Clorel and Princess Sella's stay on Acken Island would end today. After all the festival events concluded, we would have two days of rest over the weekend before returning to our academic routines.

"Princess Sella is waiting."

Princess Sella sent one last letter on the final day. The content was predictable. Half of it was a love confession, but I wore a cold expression as I read it.

"... The princess has impressive writing skills. The flow of words conveys a strange sense of sincerity. She should try writing poetry or novels."

I couldn't believe her, no matter what she wrote.

After finishing the letter, my response was already determined. Dest was probably expecting it as well.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not going."

"It would be better if you could also consciously think positively. President Tanya."

"It's so annoying to hear that from you, senior Zix."

"It's a worry for President Tanya that I say this."

"..."

A much-needed break.

Tanya, sprawled on the sofa in her student council president's office with the look of a half-dead corpse, brushed her disheveled hair and looked toward the door. Zix Effelstein, who had brought in some snacks, casually threw a few on the office table and flopped down onto the opposite sofa. With his hands resting on the back of the sofa, his posture oozed comfort and lacked any visible respect for the student president.

There was no helping it. Within the student council, Zix was more often the whip than the carrot. Spending his time chasing after the frequently absconding Tanya had led to him seeing her less as the president and more like a prisoner dreaming of escape at every opportunity.

"As you lie there on the sofa, no doubt you're repeatedly muttering to yourself: 'I've had enough of being president. I want to retire. I want to die. I want to run away to a place where nobody knows me. What could Ed, my dear brother, be doing? Maybe I should just pass on the vice-president's title. Would he even accept it? But isn't it my responsibility? Why did I even take on this responsibility? I just want to die. Save me. Somebody save me.' Isn't that right?"

Tanya gulped and looked at Zix.

"It's become... such a predictable repertoire, it's not even surprising anymore. But haven't you finished up all the piled-up work during the festival? With Senior Anis around, your life during the standard school term should become much more leisurely."

"I want to enjoy some peace of mind, but I'm plagued by negative thoughts. What can I be done about that?"

"That's why I'm telling you to consciously make an effort to think positively. Even if it's a lie, it doesn't matter."

"What's the point of nice lies when they mean nothing?"

"No, they do mean something. I heard about it from Elka. It might just be a form of self-suggestion, or it may seem like merely putting on a mask... but they say if you lie to yourself hard enough and long enough, your heart eventually takes those lies as the truth. There was some technical term for it... I can't quite recall..."

"... That sounds eerily like some kind of psychoanalysis. Not really my area of expertise..."

"Nor mine. But it's worth a try, right? Tell yourself every day: I am happy. I am full of energy. I love work. I can't wait to work. Work is my life. I will die working!! Even as you lie to yourself and repeat the suggestion, won't you begin to approach life more positively?"

"I'm sorry, but that kind of life sounds horrific to me."

"... Admittedly, my example was a bit much. My apologies."

Zix chuckled wryly and glanced out of the corner of his eye at Tanya, who was finally able to take a proper break after completing a long task. No matter what, she was the type of person who finished her responsibilities on time. They say personality is inherited in many ways, and in that sense, she was very much like her brother.

The thought occurred that with good support, she could become an excellent leader. But at the moment, collapsed like a corpse, she lacked any sense of dignity. Well, such people exist too.

With that thought, Zix casually polished his sheath with a cloth.

"... Your companion has refused. It seems unlikely that they will accompany you to the end."

Even the humility of an imperial princess does not stir a response.

In a splendid personal chamber prepared for Princess Sella, a tidy room awaited with an office table set up within. Sitting at the vast table, Princess Sella sneered at Dest's report.

"Pretentious... yet all they crave is power..."

Festival periods meaning spending more time with Emperor Clorel often made it difficult to give time to any others, making daily visits to Ed's camp simply impossible.

Thus, Princess Sella attempted to lure him through letters, but there were limits. Writing more radical and bold passages to provoke Ed, but his steadfast heart showed no signs of moving.

An odd sense of stubbornness began to grow in her, leading to more effort being put into the daily correspondence than one might think worthy of such deceit.

Of course, there was no sincerity in those letters. The bloodless Princess Sella saw no reason to hand everything over to a mere duke's son. It was nothing but sweet words—most fall for it at this stage.

Being so needed by a figure like a princess can intoxicate, causing them to lose their objective self-worth. But for the tyrant Sella, who considers her underlings mere chess pieces to be disposed of at will, there's no cause for such inducement.

"I would prefer to make time for another visit... but..."

Coincidentally, a packed schedule awaits her tomorrow morning, with numerous reports to review. There's also a visit to Triss Hall on the agenda, as well as a luncheon with Headmaster Obel Forcius.

In the end, all she can do is write the letters more sincerely for now. The issue is that she's used up all possible persuasive avenues—she's hit the limit on crafting seemingly heartfelt false missives.

Despite such bowing, he doesn't even blink. To Princess Sella, the idea provokes a bitter smile. The joy of finally breaking down Ed, so diligently staunch until now, is overwhelming even to think about.

She had never put this much effort into ensnaring anyone—usually, they would have fallen for her by now. Lately, she has spent whole days pondering the phrases to sway him with words.

She's tried appealing to his loyalty to Princess Phoenia, even resorting to shock tactics like confessing a personal infatuation with Ed. But still, he doesn't budge.

'Does he see through the deception?'

That thought crosses her mind. No matter the shocking promises she's penned, he's never succumbed, leading her to believe he doesn't trust the content.

Perhaps a more credible and sincere tone is required. Promises of wealth and honor aren't enough to move him; what's needed now is an authenticity that Ed will believe as genuine.

She must package herself so desperately that even the doubting Ed will be fooled, deceived into betrayal.

Once he falls into her hands and betrays Phoenia, she'll use him to her heart's content before discarding him. She imagines the look on his face then and smiles in anticipation.

So, Princess Sella continues to write letters filled with falsehoods, deeply immersed in her own lies.

"The request to view has been denied. Currently, the Sage's Seal is not even available for research purposes, making it difficult to approve through a student's request."

An employee of Triss Hall kindly explained to Aila through the counter window. She was the girl who for several days had been requesting a meeting with Obel Forcius, desperately wanting to view the Sage's Seal.

"Is that so..."

"Yes... given its history of theft, caution is understandable, even at a scholarly level..."

"Understood... thank you..."

Aila acknowledged the employee and exited Triss Hall.

While the festival frenzy continued, Trix Hall, a business building, maintained a distinctly professional ambiance.

Despite the lingering excitement, the work still had to be done.

Aila took a moment to look around Triss Hall, then with her head bowed, her expression hardened. There was a need to find another method, a need based on the intuition that she must somehow view the Sage's Seal.