Re:ZERO -Starting Life in Another World-, Vol. 4

by Tappei Nagatsuki

  The frigid words reverberated throughout the chamber. Rickert’s face, red from indignation, paled. Roswaal continued, “It is poor manners to address a half-elf as a ‘half-demon.’ Furthermore, Lady Emilia remains a royal candidate… Do you understand which of us should remember his place?”

  Roswaal’s tone of voice was unchanged from the norm, but the power behind it made Rickert avert his gaze. He shook his head, as if to conceal his intimidation, and dramatically motioned to the dais.

  “A-and what of it? I do not believe my claim to be in error. Qualified as Dragon Maiden does not mean qualified to be king. Lord Miklotov! Please reconsider! The future prosperity of the kingdom cannot be built upon the election of an obscene royal candidate such as—”

  “—Sir Reinhard.”

  The sage addressed not Rickert, attempting to sway his view, but the red-haired knight.

  “Is this girl…?”

  “I cannot be absolutely certain, for the means to prove with certainty no longer exist.—However, I must resist the urge to call this coincidence happenstance.”

  “What would you call it, then?”

  “—I would call it fate.”

  At Reinhard’s reply, Miklotov closed his eyes as if that statement held some special meaning.

  Neither Subaru nor those around him had any idea what the two were talking about. It seemed only the pair knew to what they referred. Surrounded by such confusion, Miklotov put a hand to his forehead, as if lamenting the situation, and looked across the other old men.

  “Have you not noticed? Take another good look at Lady Felt.—If you cannot tell even then, I must question your fidelity to your own kingdom.”

  In response to Miklotov’s challenge, the occupants of the chamber held their breaths and gazed at Felt. Felt, at the eye of a storm of unrestrained stares, scowled openly.

  Rickert bluntly pointed out Felt’s shortcomings.

  “Looking at her, of course one can tell…she is still very young, and there are far too many things she would have to learn before setting foot near a thro—!”

  Suddenly, his face stiffened as if he’d realized something, his eyes opening wide in shock.

  “B-blond hair and crimson eyes—?!”

  Once Rickert said it, the other officials were struck with similar force like a row of dominos. The only one not affected was Subaru, ignorant of common knowledge in that world.

  When Subaru glanced to the side, Ferris and Julius appeared to understand. He couldn’t tell what in the world Al was thinking, per usual, but Al showed no special sign of surprise.

  “Blond hair and crimson eyes—these are peculiar to the bloodline of the Lugunica Royal Family. But! It cannot be! The entire royal bloodline passed away in that incident half a year ago! It is simply impossible that this girl could—”

  Reinhard calmly interrupted Rickert’s forceful denial.

  “—Mr. Rickert, are you aware of a certain incident in the palace some fourteen years ago?”

  The words from Reinhard’s lips struck Rickert with even greater force.

  “Sir Reinhard… Surely, you are not saying that…”

  “Fourteen years ago, thieves infiltrated the castle and abducted the daughter of the late second prince, Lord Fold. The thieves were permitted to escape, and the daughter was never found.”

  This was the kind of national failure that was never leaked to outsiders.

  “As the matter was not written upon the Dragon Tablet, the thieves were easily permitted to infiltrate the royal palace at the time. Since there were a number of other urgent matters, an all-out search for the daughter was not conducted.”

  “Mmmm. That incident was the trigger for the dissolution and reconstitution of the Knights of the Royal Guard. Your kinsmen were not uninvolved in this matter, I believe?”

  “Thus, I have information that would otherwise be unknown to me. And based upon this…”

  Miklotov replied to Reinhard’s minimalist reply with a nod of his own. However, Rickert’s frenzy showed no sign of diminishing.

  “That is an extreme—no, an irrational position! Are we to believe a daughter of the royal household vanished without a trace fourteen years ago, came to live in the slums, and now you incidentally discovered her with the royal selection nearing?! And furthermore, you just so happened to find out that she is qualified as a Dragon Maiden?!”

  Even after the barrage of information Rickert was still standing.

  “This is absurd!” he laughed. “This is all too contrived. You could easily have found a girl with maiden qualifications and dyed her hair and used magic to alter the color of her eyes.—Surely you have not engaged in such shameful behavior?”

  “I swear it upon my sword.”

  Reinhard laid the sword at his hip upon the floor, offering it in a show of the highest respect. Rickert, seeing the knight among knights displaying such deference, sank into a heavy slouch.

  “…With all of the royal family already lost, no means exist to confirm whether she has royal blood or not. I do not think anyone will bow their heads based on mere supposition about her identity.”

  “That is natural. However, I am certain that Lady Felt is worthy of throne…even without a claim by blood.”

  Reinhard’s unshaken reply drew a resigned sigh from Rickert.

  “It seems that the Sword Saint of our age is rather invested in her.”

  Once more, he turned his gaze to Felt, the subject of the matter at hand.

  “Setting aside your maiden qualifications, you hail from the slums.—And it is possible you possess the royal bloodline, presumed lost. I cannot even begin to fathom the distress this must bring you. Are you determined to see this through?”

  The statement sounded like a test, a ritual so that Rickert could use her reply to let go of his misgivings. Only when he received Felt’s reply could he allow the discussion to end.

  But Felt flatly denied her qualification, completely ignoring the flow of the conversation to that point.

  “Huh? What are you talking about, old guy? I never said one word about being king.”

  The unexpected reply caught everyone in the chamber off guard.

  “I got dragged here out from the slums against my will,” she continued. “I told him to take me back and he wouldn’t, and he hid my old clothes so I had to wear this stupid thing. I am way past ticked! I’m annoyed a million times over! No, I don’t accept this!”

  Felt’s rage-filled rant brought another awkward silence over the hall. Even Subaru, famously unable to read the mood, could tell that things were going south.

  Among the silent remaining candidates, Priscilla, her arms crossed with a bored expression, spat out, “—How long are you going to entertain this boring, pointless discussion?”

  As all eyes fell upon the girl, her full bosom shook above her folded arms.

  “Even if it is in name only, five have been assembled so the process can commence. All we need do is begin, and the unworthy will be culled in due course. After all, I shall be the last one standing. Whether the excess baggage is qualified to be king or not is completely beside the point.”

  Priscilla’s brash, irrational argument drew a heated reaction from Felt.

  “Ahh…?”

  She leaped down from the dais and glared at Priscilla head-on.

  “I was thinking earlier you were a good-looking chick, but I guess it’s a flower bed inside your head, too, huh? If you wanna pick a fight, I’m game. Everyone knows with me you get more than you bargained for.”

  “Such arrogance. Do you know who I am…?”

  “Ha, like I’d know…!”

  Felt brushed off Priscilla’s statement with a loud laugh. Priscilla’s eyes cruelly narrowed.

  With Subaru’s breath catching from the decisive change in the atmosphere, Al shouted from beside him, “Princess, this is—”

  He must have known exactly what Priscilla was about to do.

  Then, at Al’s shout, a gust wind cut across the cha
mber. Reinhard moved directly in front of her in a split second and spoke in a quiet voice.

  “—Pardon me, Lady Priscilla.”

  In the literal blink of an eye, the knight, on one knee on the dais a moment before, had come between the two royal candidates. The red-haired knight was facing the orange-haired girl—and behind him, Emilia held Felt close to protect her.

  Emilia’s violet eyes filled with anger as she chewed Priscilla out.

  “Such hostility in an important place like this… What are you thinking?!”

  However, Priscilla waved off the nuisance with a hand, numb to any pangs of guilt.

  “I am merely teaching an untrained bitch her proper place. After all, impoliteness toward me can only be repaid with one’s life.”

  Emilia pressed the point against the unrepentant Priscilla.

  “Won’t you say you’re sorry? Or do you actually not realize you’ve done something wrong?”

  For an instant, the words made Priscilla’s face go blank. Then, she glanced at Emilia with barely constrained laughter.

  “Ahh, this is most amusing. I have rarely been so entertained. You may take that as a compliment.”

  “What a disagreeable child you are. What are you talking a—”

  “One should apologize for doing something wrong, you say? If that is the case, why do you not apologize, silver-haired half-elf? In your case, ‘I’m sorry I was ever born.’”

  Even Subaru could tell that the shock had shot right through Emilia’s entire body. Her shoulders shuddered, and her fearlessness faded from her eyes, replaced by acute pain.

  “I-I have…no relationship to the Witch…”

  “Does such an excuse mean anything to anyone? You are the spitting image of the being that is taboo to the world. The very sight of you fills people with fear and makes their hearts tremble. Is that not why you cover yourself and obscure your appearance?”

  Assaulted on all sides by Priscilla’s acrimonious words, Emilia silently bowed her pale face.

  Even Subaru understood Priscilla’s meaning. He understood it, but he could not accept it, for it unjustly brought pain to Emilia for reasons that had nothing to do with her whatsoever.

  He couldn’t take it anymore. Yet, once again, Subaru had to wait to act as Al, his face unreadable under his helm, offered a frank critique of Priscilla’s despotism.

  “Princess, can we leave it at that? Adding more enemies here seriously puts us in a bind, especially if one of ’em’s the Sword Saint. How ’bout you just apologize?”

  “My vassal should not make such a pathetic display. And what of the Sword Saint? Merely the supposed mightiest in the land. Do something.”

  “I wouldn’t last one minute…”

  Al had calmly assessed the tale of the tape, raising the white flag in short order. His demeanor brought exasperation to Priscilla’s face, and all the malice and enmity to that point seemed to dissipate.

  No one in the room, Subaru included, could conceal their shock at Al’s skillful handling of such a ferocious beast. But at the very least, the immediate threat of an explosive situation had been defused.

  With that matter settled, the chamber settled into silence once more. Abruptly, a high-pitched ring echoed throughout—the sound of a coin being tossed into a bowl. Miklotov thus gathered the group’s attention.

  “—Is everyone satisfied? It would seem that both Lady Felt and Lady Emilia have calmed sufficiently…”

  Emilia replied first.

  “Y-yes… I’m all right. It would seem she is also…”

  “Let me go, already! It’s not like I even did anything!”

  In response to Felt’s outburst, Emilia hastily nodded and let her go.

  “I was fine, so you didn’t need to do nothin’!” she fumed. “Do I look like some weak little kid to you?!”

  “…Yes, it was unnecessary. I am sorry.”

  “—I’m not thanking you.”

  Felt scowled. Noticing her attitude, Reinhard politely nodded to Emilia before returning to the knights, leaving Emilia and Felt to uncomfortably line up with the other candidates. Only Priscilla seemed unchanged, wearing the same bored look she had begun with. She didn’t look like she was reflecting on the error of her ways in the slightest.

  Either way, Miklotov, seeing that the dispute had been settled, announced anew, “Then, let us proceed with our agenda—the dispute over the royal succession. The Council of Elders hereby proposes a meeting between all the candidates for the royal selection.”

  2

  Miklotov’s most solemn announcement brought tension to the chamber again. Spontaneously, even the candidates stood a little straighter; the faces of the spectators no longer looked relaxed.

  Miklotov scanned the expressions of the other members of the Council of Elders, seeking confirmation with his announcement of the formal start of the meeting. In answer, the old men dipped their heads in assent one by one.

  “I thank you for your approval. Let us begin the debate. Though the subject under discussion is who shall be king…the issue is the method of selection. We have assembled candidates via the Dragon Jewels, but the method of selection is not set in stone. To determine this, I thought it best to first ask how far the candidates are willing to go.”

  The members of the Council of Elders nodded alongside Miklotov’s words. Seeing that there were no objections, Miklotov looked toward Marcus, standing at the ready on a corner of the dais. The knight stepped forward once more, bowing deeply as a proxy for everyone in the hall.

  “Then, if I may be so bold, I shall continue. I believe each candidate present has a case to make. I would have all in the chamber hear these arguments. First, let us please begin with Lady Crusch.—Sir Felix Argyle!”

  Crusch calmly nodded at Marcus’s words.

  “Mm.”

  Ferris casually raised a hand.

  “Yes, sir!”

  As Ferris jogged ahead to join Crusch’s side, she looked up at Marcus along the way, pushing up her cheeks with her index fingers.

  “Captain, Ferri keeps telling mew, it’s Ferris, not Felix. It hurts Ferri’s feewings.”

  Marcus’s chin shot up immediately.

  “I have no intention of granting special treatment to any subordinates, including you. Present yourself.”

  Ferris stuck her tongue out in dissatisfaction as she stood by her master’s—Crusch’s—side.

  “Crusch Karsten, royal candidate and head of the House of Karsten.”

  “Ferris of the House of Karsten, Lady Crusch’s knight.”

  Crusch announced herself without the slightest display of timidity, and Ferris remained as casual as ever. Marcus amended her self-introduction.

  “Sir Felix Argyle.”

  The scowl on Ferris’s face was quite blatant.

  Subaru remarked, “Huh, so her real name is Felix? That’s a very guy-ish name there.”

  In Japan, the eldest children of old samurai families were known to inherit a certain name regardless of gender. There was also a well-established fad where dating games would gender-swap generals out of the history books and turn them into very pretty girls.

  “Subaru, haven’t you heard?” Reinhard replied.

  “Heard what?”

  “Ferris doesn’t just have a man’s name. He is very much a male.”

  “—”

  Reinhard’s statement brought Subaru’s thoughts to a halt. He folded his arms, inclined his head, closed his eyes, and earnestly mulled over the meaning of those words.

  “What…did you say…just now?”

  “Ferris doesn’t just have a man’s name. He is very much a male.”

  Word for word, syllable for syllable, Reinhard repeated the very important statement.

  The instant his mind processed the information, Subaru’s yell echoed throughout the hall.

  “Whaaaaaaaa—?!”

  “That’s a guy?! Or is the knight among knights just really bad at jokes? This isn’t funny!”

&nbs
p; He wailed as he looked Ferris over from top to bottom.

  Certainly, Ferris was tall for a girl. But those facial features and body contours struck him as completely feminine. Some parts were understated for a woman’s body, but there were plenty of women in the world with flat chests, even as adults. That wasn’t proof of anything.

  However, Crusch, having maintained her silence on the matter until then, affirmed that the cause of his shock was the truth.

  “Ah, it is your first time seeing him? I can firmly declare that my knight, Ferris, is a man.”

  “A-anyone can say anything… I need proof. Yeah, I won’t believe without proof!”

  “When I was young, Ferris and I bathed together, and he certainly had a male organ between his…”

  “I’m very sorry!! I don’t want to make a pretty girl speak of male organs! My mistake!!”

  And thus, Subaru surrendered in spectacular fashion. He glared at Ferris, now standing at Crusch’s side.

  “This is your fault, too, damn it! You led me on! A guy under those cat ears, ugh! Just remembering that nibble is making me shudder!”

  “Hey meow, you got it wrong all on your own, Subawu. Ferri never said one word about being a girl.”

  “Don’t mess with me, you bitch—correction, you bastard!”

  Ferris giggled, sticking his tongue out with a wink. Crusch seemed satisfied as she commented, “Everyone makes that face when they find meowt. It’s so amusing and never gets old.—Not many have such a big reaction, though.”

  This brought an uncharacteristic scowl to Miklotov’s face.

  “Mmmm. It is in poor taste to continue this, knowing what shall result, Lady Crusch.”

  For her part, Crusch’s face firmed up again slightly as she shook her head.

  “It seems that you misunderstood, Lord Miklotov. I do not instruct Ferris to dress like this. All of it is of his free will.”

  Rickert lodged an objection to Crusch’s words.

  “Though I believe it is a master’s duty to see that a vassal is appropriately dressed…”

  Crusch’s eyes narrowed in response.

  “It is a master’s duty to see that a vassal is appropriately dressed, you say? In that case, I indeed desire that Ferris be dressed as he is now. Do you understand why?”