Chapter 3 - Anxiety, Unease, and...
Ninym Ralei’s parents died in an epidemic, although she was too young to remember. Natra’s tightly knit Flahm community ensured she never felt lonely, though. No orphan was left behind, and everyone worked together to create a supportive environment and educate children. The most promising students were given the surname “Ralei” and sent to the royal palace to work for the good of their people. The Ralei Family had been established a century prior, and Ninym quickly blossomed within the organization. Other Flahm showered her with love in place of her birth parents, and she enjoyed her days as a child.
However, Ninym had felt something was off. Her skills were remarkable compared to her peers, and rumors assumed that she would one day serve the newborn Princess Falanya. The thought made Ninym swell with pride and confidence. However, that same excellence was the cause of so many peculiar stares she received from adults.
At first, Ninym believed it was due to her talents, but she swiftly realized that wasn’t the case. They saw beyond her skills. No ill intent hung in their gazes, yet they also held more than mere affection. Their looks were complex and twisted—like acts of worship.
Why did they treat her that way? Ninym felt lost and confused until the elders summoned her one day.
“You carry the blood of the Founder.”
The Founder. The heroic, red-haired Flahm who’d established their kingdom. His legend kept hope alive in the hearts of countless Flahm persecuted around the world.
Now Ninym finally understood. People gazed at her with such worship and adulation because her ancestry was practically divine.
She had one thought about this revelation.
Gross.
She was the descendant of a bygone hero. A Flahm of precious heritage. That’s why everyone praised her.
It was completely ridiculous. If her lineage could be traced back so accurately, surely the same was true of other Flahm. She had no doubt others carried a connection to the Founder. The “direct descendant” part was suspicious, too. The Founder’s line probably ended somewhere. The Flahm had likely decided to pass off an unrelated child as his scion. No one bloodline could be expected to last forever.
It’s disgusting…
If children Ninym’s age had revered her as a chosen one, she would’ve been innocently delighted. However, all the praise came from adults, and their words were paper-thin lies and delusions.
If Ninym was a true descendant, what would it change? Did the Flahm expect her to make a castle out of thin air or resurrect the dead with a word? Ridiculous. She was a child who possessed no such magical power.
It’s so revolting, I can’t stand it!
No one understood. They wholeheartedly believed the young girl was the latest in a line of divine treasures passed down through the ages. As long as her blood survived, the Flahm would rise again someday.
“Until our holy capital is rebuilt, Your Ladyship’s duty is to take care of your health and carry on the bloodline.”
The ugly truth dawned on her.
To the Flahm, Ninym wasn’t human. Sham or not, she was only a vessel meant to symbolize the Founder’s lineage.
Ninym fled the village that same day. She had no destination. Her only objective was to escape. Eventually, a forbidden forest came into view…
Several days after Ninym had stumbled upon the mansion in the forest, she rose before the birds, got dressed in her new bedroom, then hurried to prepare breakfast and draw a bath. She had yet to learn the ropes, so the results were admittedly clumsy.
All the same, Ninym managed to finish and quickly made her way down the hall. A man was waiting for her—Raklum.
“Good morning.”
“Morning,” he replied.
Raklum was a Natran soldier and the mansion’s only guard. His position by the door indicated its importance.
“The prince’s… His Highness’s bath and breakfast are ready.”
“Understood.” Raklum nodded and rapped lightly on the door beside him. “Pardon me, Your Highness.”
Ninym watched Raklum disappear behind the door and waited. Although it was plain fare, she’d put a lot of effort into breakfast and wanted Wein to eat first while it was still hot. She stood patiently while wondering if Raklum and the prince would ever come out.
The two appeared a few moments later, and Ninym gave an energetic bow.
“G-good morning!”
“Yeah,” the boy, Wein Salema Arbalest, answered flatly. He was the lord of this mansion and Natra’s true crown prince.
“Um, your meal and bath are ready. Which would you like first?”
Ninym was certain the prince would choose the former. She’d only been taking care of Wein for several days and knew very little about him. Furthermore, his blank expression made him impossible to read. Even so, Ninym had to constantly prove her usefulness if she hoped to stay.
Thus, Ninym did her best to glean Wein’s character. She didn’t get very far but at least understood he was someone who preferred to eat first thing in the morning.
“Guess I’ll take a bath first.”
Huh—?!
Ninym’s heart wailed as Wein defied her expectations. This was no time to let a surprise unsettle her, though. Wein set out down the hall, and she hurried after him.
I don’t get this boy at all…! She thought back to several days earlier and recalled his behavior as she pleaded for refuge.
“I’m against it.” Raklum bluntly refused Ninym’s request. “Even if you are just a child, I cannot allow someone of unknown lineage to remain by His Highness’s side.”
He was absolutely right. If it had been anyone else, Ninym would’ve agreed.
“Your name is ‘Ninym,’ correct?” Raklum asked. “Might I assume you left home to escape danger?”
“No, not exactly…”
The man’s concern of abuse was understandable. He was entirely mistaken, though. Ninym was a cherished, priceless treasure. If she returned, she’d likely be confined for her safety.
“In that case, you may stay here tonight. I’ll return you to your parents tomorrow; I’m sure your family is worried. They’ll be upset, but fear not. I shall do my best to ease the situation.”
Raklum’s practical, well-intended suggestion troubled Ninym. Had she run off because of a fight with her parents or something similar, she would’ve already given up. But that wasn’t the case. Ninym refused to become the Founder’s vessel to perpetuate everyone’s selfish delusions.
But…
She’d left on impulse with no destination, and there were very few places a child, particularly a Flahm, could go. Ninym couldn’t flee the country and didn’t stand a chance outside civilization. If she had not found the mansion in the woods, it would have been no surprise if she’d turned up dead a few days later.
Regardless, the Flahm would catch up to Ninym soon enough, even if she moved between villages. Her people’s network in Natra alone was far-reaching.
Ninym’s back was to the wall. Her only options were to return home either under protest or stand on her own two feet. Still, her emotions wav—
“Do you really want to stay here?” Wein asked, interrupting Ninym’s doubts.
She gaped at him slightly, but the boy didn’t bother to repeat himself and simply stared back. His expression was as undecipherable as a mask, but the question was plainly no joke.
“Yes! Please, let me work here!” Ninym exclaimed eagerly.
“I see,” he said softly. “Okay, I’ll allow it.”
“Your Highness—” Raklum hastily tried to cut in, but Wein would not be dissuaded.
“Raklum, I’ll expect you to train her.”
A mere soldier wouldn’t dare refuse his prince’s command.
“…Understood,” he replied solemnly. Raklum turned to Ninym. His gaze bore no hostility, instead offering exasperation and admiration for this insistent young girl. “Come with me. First, you’ll help me in the kitchen.”
“O-okay! I’m ready for anything!”
And thus began Ninym’s life as a maid. Frankly, she wasn’t much help in the kitchen back then.
Ninym stood beside the freshly bathed Wein and waited on him attentively throughout breakfast.
He’s always so indifferent…
She often thought as much of the prince as she observed him. Of course, her current basic recipe repertoire of bread, meat, and vegetables couldn’t compare to the palace’s diverse, elaborate meals. Wein chewed each dish disaffectedly, without a single remark on how it tasted. Ninym couldn’t help but wonder if he’d react similarly to a plate of dirt.
I wouldn’t say he’s difficult, though…
Ninym had wandered into the mansion lost and confused, yet Wein allowed her to live and even work there. Objectively speaking, he was magnanimous. However, Ninym felt something beyond goodwill in his presence. This prince was truly an enigma.
“Pardon me, Your Highness.” Raklum appeared following a knock on the door. “This just arrived from one of our spies.”
Wein accepted the sealed envelope, scanned its contents, and then exchanged a few words with Raklum.
“It would seem the Imperial Court is uneasy.”
“Who’s on the move?”
“According to this report…”
From what Ninym could hear, it involved the Imperial Court.
“Will you return to the palace?”
“No, I’ll stay here for now. Let them know.”
“Understood…”
Wein turned to the girl, who’d been eavesdropping.
“Ninym.”
“Y-yes? Umm… Oh.”
Wein motioned to his dishes and silverware. Ninym hurriedly cleared them away, bowed, and excused herself from the room. As she closed the door, Ninym heard the conversation continue behind her. Was she dismissed because the discussion involved sensitive information? Honestly, Ninym was clueless about the situation but knew better than to stick her nose into it.
Afterward, Ninym washed the dishes then started on the housework and laundry, all the while pondering what to prepare for lunch. Cleaning this vast mansion by herself was a monumental task, but such extravagant furnishings permitted no carelessness.
Now that I think about it, how did they manage until now?
Raklum couldn’t possibly have served Wein, run the household, and managed outgoing and incoming goods and information on his own. The responsibilities demanded at least three or four people, yet Raklum and Ninym were the only staff members. Ninym had inquired about this before but had never been given any details.
Just then, Raklum appeared at the other end of the corridor.
“Sir Raklum.”
He looked up, emerging from a mire of his own thoughts.
“Ah, Ninym. Are you cleaning right now?”
“Yes. I’ll polish the mansion until it shines.”
“That’s the spirit. Don’t push yourself, though. His Highness said we can prioritize the rooms in active use.”
“Understood! Still, I’ll do my very best!”
Ninym had asked to stay, so no task was too big. Raklum recognized her innocent intention, of course, and didn’t chide her for it. Instead, he smiled wryly and changed the subject.
“By the way, there’s no need to call me ‘sir.’ After all, I’m just a soldier.”
“But you serve His Highness…” Ninym didn’t understand the circumstances, but Raklum was the prince’s sole attendant. Most would deem sir to be appropriate.
“I have been by His Highness’s side for less time than you might think,” Raklum confessed, shaking his head. “The prince summoned me out of the blue only a short while ago. He said he planned to spend some time in this mansion and put me in charge of day-to-day matters. At first, I thought that meant I would command the guards and servants, but…it’s really just me.”
“Wow…” Ninym looked at Raklum curiously as he groaned. “Then, what was your previous relation to His Highness…?”
“The prince had commended my sharp eye and intuition when he came to observe Natra’s troops. I felt truly honored, and… Well, that’s about it. That’s likely why he remembered me.”
In short, Prince Wein had brought a soldier he hardly knew into this forest mansion, despite the potential inconvenience. By this point, Ninym suspected Wein was more than just an eccentric. He was after something, though she hadn’t the slightest clue what.
“Well, I can’t begin to guess His Highness’s intentions,” Raklum said humbly. “Regardless, I shall remain forever loyal and diligent in my duties. Ninym, you are also a citizen of Natra. Never forget your allegiance to Prince Wein.”
“O-okay!” she replied enthusiastically.
Raklum nodded and continued, “Pardon me for changing the subject, but…a report has arrived concerning your village.”
Ninym’s shoulders tensed, shaking slightly. Running away hadn’t been enough. Her life had returned to haunt her.
“It would seem everyone has been looking for you. They were relieved to hear you’re safe, but you must reflect on the trouble you’ve caused.”
“I know…”
A suddenly enervated Ninym hung her head. She realized how much her impulsive outburst continued to affect people.
“We’ve sent word that you are under a noble’s protection. Your kin insist on sending someone to collect you right away, but…”
“U-um…”
“I know. You wish to remain here. Unfortunately, it will be rather difficult to persuade them,” Raklum said with a note of concern. “Needless to say, you cannot reveal that His Highness is practically alone in this forest, nor can we invite anyone here. However, the other party will not back down until they confirm your safety firsthand. Nothing is set, but our plan is to meet their representative in a neighboring village.”
“I see…”
“In any case, I won’t let them take you by force. However, you must be the one to change their minds. Prepare yourself.”
Ninym gave a tiny nod. Considering this was a predicament born of her recklessness, Raklum was being awfully generous. It was fortunate that Ninym had stumbled upon this manor in the woods.
“…Well, I’ve blathered long enough. My apologies for interrupting your work,” Raklum said.
Ninym promptly shook her head. “N-no, not at all. Thank you for everything.”
“You ought to thank His Highness,” the guardsman answered with a smile. “I’m going out for a bit. Please watch over Prince Wein until I return.”
“Y-you can count on me!”
Raklum waved good-bye and left.
Change their minds…
She was supposed to speak with a Flahm representative. Who would it be? Someone who knew her circumstances? Someone unfamiliar? Either way, Ninym’s future was up to her.
Evading the issue wasn’t a solution. Ninym would have to return eventually. Still, she wanted just a little more time to sort out her feelings.
She could spare no effort to end this. After all, His Highness had kindly granted her refuge.
There’s no telling why he did, though…
Wein had intentionally settled deep in the forest with a single servant, seemingly to be alone, yet he took in an unexpected stranger. His actions were contradictory but made some kind of sense to him. Ninym had questions. However, there was no one to provide answers.
“All right, I’ll clean this place top to bottom!”
Ninym turned her mind back to her work, lighting a fire in herself.
Then she woke up.
Another dream of the past.
Ninym rose slowly from bed and stretched her limbs. They had grown since the time in her dream. Ten years had passed, so it was no surprise she didn’t dream much of those days anymore, but today, one had bubbled up from the depths of her memories.
It’s obvious why.
As Ninym dressed, she recalled the Flahm assembly from yesterday. As the push for independence grew, its proponents called upon Ninym and the blood of the Founder within her. To potential Flahm revolutionaries, she was an ideal symbol. Whether or not she was a true descendant was irrelevant. Enough people believed, or wished to believe, so it became the truth.
This has seriously gotten out of hand.
Only a select few within the Ralei Family knew that Ninym was a descendant of the Founder. Not even Natra’s royals were privy to the well-kept secret. How did such classified information spread among the Flahm? She doubted those who guarded that information had revealed it to fan the flames of revolution. Whatever the case, now that every Flahm knew a direct descendant of the Founder was alive, Ninym would become their unwilling symbol. With all eyes on her, it was no longer possible to covertly preserve the Founder’s unbroken legacy. For those who watched over Ninym, it was a nightmare scenario.
Who among the few in the know had revealed the secret? Ninym would have to dig deeper for answers and ask around.
“…I should get going.”
Ninym finished dressing and left her private bedroom. Through the door were her personal quarters, which doubled as an office. As Wein’s aide, she had her own rooms in the palace like the high officials. She did very little in her chambers but sleep, though, owing to hectic days spent with Wein or running in and out of the palace for one ministry or another.
Ninym passed through as usual, entered the hallway, and set out to meet not with Wein, but another.
“Master Levan, it’s Ninym.”
“Ah, come in.”
She stepped inside to find Levan in his chair. These were his private quarters; as Flahm leader and aide to the king, he, too, had been granted space in the palace.
“My apologies for asking you to come so early.”
“It’s no trouble. I haven’t started work yet, so the timing is convenient,” Ninym replied. “Let’s get straight to the subject at hand. What in the world happened yesterday?”
“Right…” Levan groaned in dismay. “You must be aware that the call for independence has been steadily growing louder among Natra’s Flahm.”
It was one result of Natra’s rapid development. A nation required larger administration as it gained new territory, but Natra had historically been a tiny northern settlement. The delights of progress and an influx of immigrants wouldn’t conveniently offset its severe lack of resources.
Natra’s Flahm filled the gap. Thanks to their group education system and established civil official program, the Flahm could be sent anywhere short on personnel. However, Natra’s situation was so dire that even the extra support was quickly exhausted. The Flahm had always taken care not to overstep their boundaries or tinker with the balance of power, lest they draw the wrong attention. However, they’d broken that tradition upon deciding to become Wein’s go-to resource during his time stewarding the kingdom. The Flahm’s efforts had undeniably paid off, as evidenced by their expanded interests and firm place in Natran society.
Ninym had advised caution but made no attempt to criticize her people’s enthusiasm. After all, she understood that the Flahm’s position and influence in Natra hinged on their faultless reputation.
The real problem came later.
“I never thought a single stroke of success would make them so arrogant…”
Everything would’ve been fine if the Flahm had remained content to grow alongside Natra, but self-restraint was a challenging request after such a stroke of good fortune. Everyone hoped to take advantage of this opportunity to test how far their dream could soar.
The dream of Flahm liberation.
“Independence is nothing more than a pipe dream, of course,” Levan said. “Even the loudest know deep down that it’s not feasible. They’re just venting, so to speak. We’ve been reasonably tolerant in order to prevent violent outbursts, but—”
“The reveal of my heritage sparked fresh enthusiasm,” Ninym finished. Like a gift from heaven, Ninym had suddenly appeared to answer the Flahm’s prayers. She, however, felt more like a log on the fire and let out a deep sigh. “Do you know who exposed me?”
Levan shook his head. “We’re looking into it but haven’t found anything yet. They committed the deed and vanished without a trace.”
“How annoying.” Ninym clicked her tongue in irritation. Without a culprit, she had nowhere to exact her rage. That was not to suggest she had no suspicions, though. “Master Levan, this is most likely—”
“I know. It’s doubtful a random Flahm accidentally found out and decided to share the news,” he replied, his expression solemn. “The culprit acted for a very specific purpose.”
An attack, Ninym thought.
Someone must have orchestrated this to upset the Flahm’s position in Natra. This wouldn’t end here. They would seek to urge on the revolutionists even further.
“I highly suspect it may be someone who has contacted our youth and offered support,” Levan said.
“The ‘backer’ from earlier…”
This mysterious benefactor had come up during the earlier meeting. Even the biggest activists who saw Ninym as a symbol of independence had argued she alone wouldn’t be enough. A mere symbol couldn’t replace basic essentials like food, clothing, and shelter. Without those, failure was imminent. And yet the Flahm youth still rallied behind Ninym and the legacy she represented. They had support.
“Who could it be?” she asked.
“I’m not sure. I haven’t met them yet,” Levan replied.
“Neither of us know this person even though you are our leader and I your successor. Yet they’ve befriended the young, radical Flahm and gained their trust. Perhaps they’re still laying the groundwork?”
“It looks like this trouble hasn’t spread beyond the Flahm yet.”
“Considering the haste they’ve shown in advancing their plan, it would appear they’re not concerned with stealth.” Ninym exhaled hard. Still, it would prove difficult to track down the mastermind in time. Such an apathetic attitude toward their involvement could suggest they carried a trick up their sleeve.
“We still need to work out the details, but I plan to meet with this benefactor soon enough. I’d like you to join me, Ninym,” Levan said.
Ninym agreed to the request. As both an individual and the future leader of the Flahm, she couldn’t refuse.
“To think the idea of independence would reawaken like this during my tenure.” Levan sighed heavily, and Ninym sensed his exhaustion. He must have gone to great pains to pacify their zealous brethren while she was away in the Empire. She detected something else, however. Levan believed revolution was a reckless notion, but he didn’t entirely despise the notion.
“Master Levan, I’ve stated this before, but I am against the idea of a Flahm revolution,” Ninym stated, voicing her discomfort. “We have no military, no justification, and no land. How will we achieve independence? Uniting under my name won’t change anything.”
“With the rights and interests we’ve gained, it would seem our youth believe the Flahm can acquire land and autonomy from Natra.”
“That’s ridiculous. It’s a hopeless plan,” Ninym argued. “Struggle as we might, we’ll always be the ‘other.’ Our white hair and red eyes forever separate us from the rest. If we settle in one area and keep to ourselves, we’ll quickly be labeled a freakish minority.”
History had long proved that people often took out their pain and frustration on smaller groups. To prevent themselves from becoming such victims, Natra’s Flahm had to live each day as model neighbors.
“I’ve never once believed humanity blessed of infinite goodness. Minorities like us must fight to squeeze in the margins. We need others to understand us, so our best hope is to promote awareness and make a good impression.”
“I’d expect no less from an aide.” Levan’s tone carried no sarcasm. He spoke from the heart and seemed to admire Ninym’s growth. “I also believe this push for independence is foolhardy. For the sake of Natra and the Flahm, we should remain model citizens. However…” A shadow crossed Levan’s face, but he spoke again before Ninym could react. “The bigger question is how we can realistically halt this movement. Your position has become quite precarious.”
“…Yes, the situation can no longer be ignored. We must pacify the Flahm by any means necessary.”
But how? Ninym had a feeling her words would fall on deaf ears, and any forceful attempt to silence the revolutionists would only fan the flames.
The pragmatic aide within her found the answer immediately.
The quickest method…would be my death.
The revolutionists carried high hopes for Ninym, their symbol. Her demise would surely drop them into despair and crush their momentum for decades. Regrettably, Ninym had no death wish, so that idea needed to be discarded.
“Ninym, I intend to gather other anti-revolutionists. Our protests will be drowned out unless we unite,” Levan explained.
“In that case, I, too—”
“No, stay put. You’ve already expressed your disapproval, and the pro-independence faction might act recklessly if you push harder. Your best bet is to keep the dialogue open and convince everyone there is still room for persuasion.”
Ninym reluctantly agreed.
A stampede of freedom-crazed Flahm. Fractures. Internal discord. She wanted none of it.
“I’d like to keep this matter between us, so please do not discuss it with anyone, Ninym. Even Prince Wein.”
“That’s—” Ninym began, but Levan cut her off again.
“This matter is extremely dangerous. It could even be considered treachery against Natra. The Flahm’s growing influence has already captured the nation’s attention. To avoid potential interference, we must hide all weakness.”
Levan’s words were eloquent yet firm. “Ninym, I understand you are loyal to Prince Wein. Yet at the same time, you wish for your people to be happy. Once this is over, I will reveal all to His Highness, take responsibility, and step down as leader. Until then, keep this matter to yourself.”
“…”
Ninym’s gaze wandered to the ceiling before she closed her eyes and frowned for a little while. She tried to reconcile her frustration with the predicament. When she couldn’t, she let out a heavy sigh.
“I am not His Highness’s only source of information. If he asks about it, I’ll give an honest reply. Until then, I’ll say nothing.”
“That is enough. I appreciate it.”
Levan bowed his head, and Ninym quietly sighed again.
Ninym excused herself from Levan’s room and hurried to Wein to perform her usual duties. The recent upsets in the Flahm were severe, but no worry excused her from work. Ninym vowed to carry on as usual.
That didn’t last long, though.
“What’s up, Ninym? Why the long face?”
Ninym pursed her lips at Wein’s sudden question. “…There is contention among the Flahm.” It wasn’t a lie. Since she was Wein’s aide, deceiving him was unthinkable. Besides, he’d see straight through her. “There’s no need to worry. Master Levan and I will handle it.”
Ninym concealed her bitter feelings behind a smile. It seemed to work, and Wein’s reaction was lukewarm.
“A disagreement, huh? Well, Natra’s speedy progress has brought increased reports of trouble across the country.”
“Exactly. It’s a shame that our prosperity hasn’t brought happiness to everyone.”
Still, a bit of extra coin in people’s pockets doubtless solved a problem or two.
The worst could be avoided so long as Natra’s good fortune persisted. A few skirmishes might even lead to future harmony. How would a true period of adversity affect the kingdom, though? Would it spell the end for the nation’s windfall?
“Speaking of arguments, Falanya and I had an interesting conversation yesterday.”
“Huh? Oh, come to think of it…”
Ninym had been preoccupied with the earlier meeting, but Wein’s talk with his sister was also a matter of concern. It couldn’t have been too dire if Wein’s indifference was any indication.
“Falanya declared war against me.”
“…What?” Ninym all but choked out the word.
And who could blame her?
“Arghhhhhh.”
While Ninym was stunned, Falanya was writhing on her bed.
“I can’t believe I said it… I actually told Wein…”
Falanya wailed as she suffered the agony of yesterday’s conversation over and over.
“Can you please get over it already?” Nanaki asked tiredly from his spot leaning against the wall.
Falanya wore her heart on her sleeve, which meant she had trouble getting out of a slump. She’d done all she could to prepare herself for the talk with her brother, yet she now anguished over it. She couldn’t carry on like this forever, though. Falanya was only hurting herself.
“Do you regret yesterday?” Nanaki questioned.
Falanya went still. “I don’t,” she replied, her answer muffled by the pillow she pressed her face into. “It was essential for me, Wein, and Natra.”
The memory of Wein’s response when she’d asked what he thought of Natra and its people remained fresh in her mind.
“Have you been talkin’ to Zenovia?” he asked lightly despite Falanya’s serious tone. “Politicians all think of the citizens differently. Some view them as cattle or possessions. To others, they’re like adorable pets. In any case, most regard the public as lesser. A politician’s authority, influence, and bloodline place them above ordinary people, after all. But I’m different,” Wein explained. “I consider us accomplices, Falanya.”
“Accomplices?” The unexpected word threw her off guard.
“Yes. The people are not cattle, possessions, or pets. Without them, we’re powerless, our authority is revealed to be smoke and mirrors, and every noble lineage becomes a sham. There is no hierarchy between politicians and the rest. Our roles may be different, but we stand side by side.”
“…”
“Does that mean the two sides can get along as friends or kindred souls? The answer is a resounding ‘no.’ Although we stand next to each other, the gap between us is wide. Politicians cannot pay attention to each individual, and the politicians’ troubles are too great for the masses to understand. One cannot understand the other. They are neither master and servant nor friends. However, something needs to connect them.
“The solution is mutual benefit, where each side can tip the scales. We take any opportunity to make a profit, then abandon ship if things don’t pan out. That’s what makes us accomplices. This intimate yet tenuous relationship between legislators and the public is ideal, and I think both have a duty to maintain it.”
Falanya sensed no lies in her brother’s speech. She had no choice but to accept that Wein had spoken from the heart.
“So you’d allow the citizens to fight one another until the weakest are eliminated?”
“That’s right. Competition makes a group stronger, smarter, and wealthier, plus it keeps the politicians in line. This type of harsh surveillance is best for everyone.”
Were such intentions noble-minded or pure arrogance? Most rulers opposed the idea of strong, intelligent citizens who might threaten their power and authority. This meant those in charge had to keep one step ahead, which proved a considerable challenge.
Deep down, every politician sought a weak, docile, and efficient population. However, Wein insisted he didn’t mind how strong and learned people became, since it would lead to further prosperity. Anyone would’ve taken him for an honest soul untainted by ego. And while it was true that Wein didn’t cling to social rank, he also boasted absolute confidence. A million citizens could rise against him, and he’d see them as no threat.
“That’s just like you, Wein…”
Finally, Falanya understood. A few years ago, she would have been overwhelmed by her brother and unable to comprehend his words. She was different now, though. Her studies and experiences allowed her to unravel his argument.
Thus…
“Do you think I’m wrong, Falanya?” Wein asked.
“Yes, I do.”
…Falanya’s response was swift and true.
“Oh…?” Wein replied, his eyes wide. Surprise, curiosity, and delight danced in his gaze. “Interesting. How so?” he questioned as if testing her. “You’re not just saying that because you feel sorry for the people, are you?”
“Of course not.”
Previously, Wein would’ve been right. Falanya had pitied those unable to keep up with Natra’s rapid progress. There was no denying that her brother’s methods had uplifted the majority, though.
Falanya had fumbled after a way to refute Wein’s policies, perhaps even prove him wrong. She’d pondered, searched, and investigated, then at last had come to a conclusion.
“It’s true your methods have empowered our people. Many will surely flourish, but only for now.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m talking about our current era. As Natra prospers, there will be demands for greater strength as people grow acclimated to the new normal. We both know firsthand how the systems of an era, culture, or society are ever-changing and often drastic. Those needed in times of war differ from times of peace. That strength might not be enough in the future.”
Falanya forced herself to remain resolute. “Wein, your policies focus on survival of the fittest and specialization. They have served Natra well so far, but there’s a dangerous chance we’ll fail to adapt to the next era and break apart.”
Adaptation was an organism’s first step to success, and excessive conformity dulled that ability. A butterfly that drank only the bold, nutritious nectar of a single flower would perish if that blossom did not grow after a change in environment.
“You support those who have adapted, and I have no objection to that. I’ll even agree that it’s necessary. However, everyone else still has value. When change inevitably arrives, they’ll shine and uphold the nation.” Falanya paused to collect herself. “Of course, reality isn’t so simple. Keeping citizens who would otherwise be pushed out will increase the burden on society, and the strongest will protest. We’ll have to keep them in check, but that’s what wealth and politicians are for.”
As Natra’s fortune rose, it gained the ability to aid the downtrodden. Well-adjusted citizens would undoubtedly scorn those efforts and all who benefited. It was only a matter of time until people with superior positions, abilities, and achievements created their own societal hierarchy within the non-ruling populace.
“The only ones who can act as a link between the haves and have-nots are rulers who oversee millions and chart the course for the next century,” Falanya declared with confidence. “This isn’t about compassion. It’s a necessary effort to guarantee the future of our nation. To watch in silence as that promise disappears is nothing more than negligence!”
Falanya’s shoulders heaved as she finished, and Wein clapped lightly in admiration for his sister.
“Wow, Falanya. I never expected such a detailed answer.”
He smiled, but Falanya stared at him sternly. She’d normally lift both hands in delight at his praise, yet she found herself wondering how much sincerity there was behind that grin.
“Come on, don’t make that face. It’s an honest compliment. You’ve really learned a lot,” Wein said. “Which means you know, right? You know why I can’t accept your philosophy.”
“…”
Of course she did. Wein could recognize her proposal but never accept it. Falanya spoke to the fate of Natra and its people, whereas Wein spoke only of the latter.
The reason was obvious—Wein had absolutely no attachment to Natra itself.
“Like you said, Falanya, a cooperative framework is essential if we’re to use the riches gained from our more flexible citizens to support the rest. One village, town, nation, and people. It’s the only way citizens will agree to share the wealth. But why plan so far ahead?” Wein asserted. “Sure, our strength might fail us someday. But if Natra is destroyed before we can find new power, doesn’t that just mean it was our time?”
“…”
She understood what Wein meant. Her brother was an advocate of total individualism, where everyone contributed to society as they chose.
It was an apt position for someone like her brother who, despite his noble bloodline, laughed off the idea of inherited power and insisted anyone could be king. To Wein, Natra was not a land of eight hundred thousand citizens, but eight hundred thousand individuals. A kingdom was a mere disposable container.
“A unified body isn’t meant only to assist the unfortunate,” Falanya countered, already aware of her brother’s feelings on this subject. “Standing beside one’s comrades under the same flag bolsters the heart, contributes to societal advancements, and serves as a pillar in times of hardship. Whenever people come together, the impossible becomes possible. Even if someone falters for a moment, others will protect them until they’re back on their feet. A kingdom is a precious connection between many and the key to our future. I can’t permit such ridicule, even from you!”
“In that case,” Wein began, “permit me to say one more thing, Falanya.”
“Ngh…”
“When two sides cannot agree who should hold one seat, a certain declaration is inevitable.”
Falanya had hoped to avoid this, but the die was already cast. Neither she nor Wein would be swayed. He was right. What came next was inevitable.
“I love Natra and its people. I want them to lead full, happy lives in our kingdom for many years to come. However, that will never happen under your rule, Wein. Someone like you, who considers everyone an accomplice, will one day become an enemy of the kingdom. And so I…”
She took a breath.
“I will surpass you and rule Natra.”
Wein broke into a triumphant smile.
“Marvelous. You have my full support, Falanya.”
“And that’s the story.”
As Wein finished, he nodded in satisfaction. “Ah, they grow up so fast. The little Falanya I know now exists only in my memories. How bittersweet.”
The delivery of this news had left Ninym dumbstruck.
“I—I can’t believe Princess Falanya would do such a thing…” This was the last problem they needed. As Wein’s close aide and a citizen of Natra, Ninym knew a messy inheritance dispute like the Empire’s would be the worst sort of nightmare. “We must urge Princess Falanya to change her mind immediately!”
“I doubt she’ll listen. Falanya wouldn’t make a half-hearted bid for the throne.”
“That…that’s true! But still!” Needless to say, this dire twist of events had shattered Ninym’s usual composure. “How can you be so calm, Wein?!”
He acted as though removed from the situation, yet it had everything to do with him. Wein seemed no more bothered than if he’d been kissed by a gentle breeze. Ninym hadn’t meant to shout at him for it, but…
“Because I’ll win.”
“…!”
Ninym gasped when he answered with plain, perfect confidence.
“Calm down for a second and think it over, Ninym. Do you honestly believe I might lose?”
“Well…”
It was inconceivable. Wein and Falanya had different policies, but Wein was clearly an effective leader. He saw to his people’s needs, treated his civil and military officials well, and even boasted a list of accomplishments domestic and abroad. He was the antithesis of ineptitude.
Of course, Wein believed anyone at all could run the show. This was just his strange way of avoiding an angry mob, but for those unaware of his hidden motivations, Wein was the ideal prince. A small percentage supported Falanya because they either disagreed with Wein’s policies or considered him dangerous. However, their numbers posed no threat to his rule.
“It’s impossible, right? I doubt she’ll even manage to whip up an army, and a clumsy attack will mean the end of her uprising. For now, I’m content to quietly stand ready as I watch Falanya’s progress.”
“…”
Upon further consideration, Ninym realized that Wein was right. She’d overreacted a bit. Despite Falanya’s bold declaration, her support base was weak. Moreover, the princess was a pacifist by nature and surely wanted to avoid a vicious power struggle. Since Wein was her opponent, he really only needed to placate his rebellious little sister.
Despite Wein’s reassurance, Ninym’s heart remained uneasy.
Wein…
Falanya couldn’t win. That much was certain. So why did Ninym remain so anxious?
The answer was her master sitting before her.
Will this really be okay?
Was it a trick of her nervous mind or intuition born from years of experience?
Ninym sensed an ulterior motive behind Wein’s claims. She hoped it was her imagination, but she knew he might be hiding something from her.
“What’s wrong, Ninym?”
“It’s nothing.”
Ninym shook her head and gazed at the man she’d known since childhood. At that moment, he radiated the same bizarre aura as when they’d first met in the forest mansion.
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