Chapter 9: Shadows of the Kingdom.

“So… what was the Salim District like?”

“It was horrific.
The stench was so overpowering it felt like my nose would twist out of shape.
The air hung heavy and dull.
People crawled along the ground—gaunt, skeletal figures.
There weren’t even any beggars.
No one there had anything to give.

I could only hide myself and stay perfectly still.”

I didn’t even notice that His Highness had switched from “watashi” to the rougher “ore” in his speech.
I simply stared straight at him.

My heart screamed at the urge to cover my ears against such unbearable words—yet I knew these were words I had to hear.

“A child came close.
He just stared at me without a word.
He looked about five, but he might have been older—his body was so emaciated it was hard to tell.
I happened to have an apple with me, so I gave it to him.
He snatched it and ran off.

That was all I could do.
It was nothing more than a fleeting moment of filling one small belly—and only one person at that.
Down there, there are so many, many things far more desperately needed than that.

But at the time… I was utterly powerless.”

His Highness spoke quietly, matter-of-factly, without any dramatic inflection.
And yet tears simply spilled from my eyes.

“Many people in the Salim District don’t even have clear household registration.
But they are undeniably citizens of this country.

From that day forward, I swore I would truly dedicate my life to this nation.
There should be no place in this country left untouched by light.”

This man knows despair.
He knows his own powerlessness.

That’s why he can be so perfectly composed.
That’s why he strives to grow stronger.
That’s why he hungers for power.

His Highness lowered his brows apologetically.
“I talked too much. I’m sorry.”

Then, gently, he lifted me in a sideways embrace and laid me back down on the bed with care.
“I’m sorry for making you push yourself,” he murmured, stroking my hair with a calm, tender expression.
“I’ll come again soon.”

With those words, he left.

I have regretted so much already.

And having done so, I accepted the present.

But now… a new regret is blooming inside me.

If I still had that mana…

I specialized in water magic.
Surely I could have done something.
Perhaps, working together with alchemists, I might even have found a way to purify filthy water.

From what I’ve heard, in the slums the biggest killers are sanitation problems and contaminated water—spreading disease and claiming lives.

Is that why His Highness chose me as his fiancée?
Was he seeking an ally?

Come to think of it… when we became engaged at fourteen, I vaguely remember him mentioning the Salim District several times.

And what had I said in response?

I think it was…

“Your Highness, please refrain from such indelicate topics.
The inhabitants of a different world have nothing to do with you.
There’s no need for you to concern yourself with them.”

I had trampled on his heart.
Again and again.

What expression had His Highness worn when I spoke those words?

This is only conjecture, but… surely, ever since he was ten, he had received similar reactions countless times.

Perhaps that’s why he stopped seeking understanding from others.

Perhaps he instead raised his own value—made people want to use his power for their own benefit—so he could subtly guide them toward fulfilling his plans.

All of this is mere speculation.

Because he never speaks the crucial things outright.
He hides everything behind that gentle smile.

He once said that I am someone who knows how to forgive.

But that’s not true.

It’s His Highness who…

forgave me—the one who so cruelly shattered his expectations.

It’s not that I “didn’t know, so it couldn’t be helped.”
I simply never tried to know.

I want to learn.

It may already be too late.
There may be nothing left that a mana-less me can do.

Even so… I want to learn.

Like someone gazing toward sunlight that has already sunk below the horizon, I simply kept staring out the window in silence.