Papa, that’s out of bounds!

While watching the scene through the water mirror with Mother, I noticed the person who’d stepped in where the King had turned completely white carried an awful vibe.

"Who’s this scheming fellow, Papa?"

He’s a prince, so he must be the King’s son, but the way he’s playing up his sad little act—trying to win pity—feels so fake it’s nauseating.

My face must’ve looked exactly like Father’s on the other side of the mirror, because Mother suddenly burst out laughing. "Well, I’ll be—just like Lovell’s kid!"

"This is the Crown Prince. The next King, maybe? Always hated him since he was a child, your Papa did."

"Doesn’t he look like he’s leaking something dark?"

When I said that, Mother’s eyes widened.

"Wait—you can see it already?"

"What is this thing?"

"Hmm… it’s coming fast, but I suppose I should explain it while I can."

Seems this Temberl Castle was built on a hill once known as the Spirit Hill.

People gathered there, drawn by frequent spirit sightings, and built the castle to gain the spirits’ protection. The founder of the Temberl royal family was apparently the central figure in that.

“This forest in the castle grounds once had a gate connecting the Spirit World to the human realm. That’s why when we asked spirits for magic, the power of the spells boosted. Which is why they noticed us, of course.”

I nod along, listening to my mother’s words, when suddenly the conversation turns to that scheming little aura.

“Back a few generations… there was someone like Agiel then. Though that time, it was a man.”

“…Did something happen?”

“Demanded the spirits release me.”

“Huh?”

“Pissed off the spirits.”

“Ah…”

“Got cursed instead of blessed.”

“Ah….”

So the royal bloodline got cursed by the spirits’ wrath, cut off from ever forming a pact with them again. That curse is what that aura is.

The king and Agiel didn’t see the black mist in the water mirror—because they were already hated by the spirits to begin with.

The curse remains, unchanged whether it’s there or not. But the black mist has thinned so much it’s nearly invisible.

So if I can see it… that probably means you’ve got serious latent power, Prince.

“But every year we hold the Spirit Festival. Like we’re begging for forgiveness.”

Other nations treat blessings from the spirits as sacred, almost sacred.

But the royal family here? They’re stuck with the handicap of being unable to use magic at all.

“Ah… so that’s why you’re asking Papa.”

“Exactly.”

We can’t afford to lose any magical talent from the royal family. And Father? He’s the strongest in the world—by having the Queen of the Spirit World as an ally.

In a way, humans and spirits coexist. “In a way” being the key phrase—because to spirits, humans are basically entertainment.

“Humans grow up so fast. To spirits who live through eternity, there’s nothing more fascinating—whether it’s good or bad.”

I get what Mother’s saying. But speaking as someone who used to be human, I can tell you—there’s nothing more terrifying. Humans are just toys to spirits.

They help humans out on a whim, just for fun.

But the people of the Tembar Kingdom got it completely wrong. They treated spirits with arrogance.

“…Papa, I’m human too. So is Mama.”

I say it with a slight slump in my voice. Mother’s face softens instantly—so kind, so gentle.

"…There’s a spirit festival in the kingdom."

"Wait, I just heard that."

"Every year, the royal family prays things they don’t mean. Why do we do this? Why don’t the spirits even listen to us?"

You know, thinking thoughts like that—about how this is a festival of begging for forgiveness—while the spirits are clearly hearing every word. Don’t you think that’s a bit obvious?

"Yet that’s exactly who you were standing beside, Papa."

Mother giggled. I tilted my head.

"By that time, Papa had already grown tired of Agiel. As soon as the royal incantation ended, he muttered under his breath: 'Things they don’t mean, huh?'"

Apparently, Father stayed behind after the ceremony, long after everyone else had left. That’s what caught Mother’s attention.

And then, pointing toward the very spot where the King had chanted, Father said:

"Even spirits probably wouldn’t want to lend power to people like that. …What a bother."

Mother, seeing Father with that long-suffering expression, felt her maternal instincts twitch and fell head over heels in love at first sight.

Then, ignoring the warnings of the spirits sworn to protect her, she appeared before Father and, so the story goes, forcibly seized a contract by sheer will.

“…Papa?”

“Hm?”

Father was the kind of man who could see things from the spirit’s point of view. Mother had entered the contract out of curiosity, then stayed by his side ever since. And over time, watching him up close, she’d grown utterly, helplessly fond. He felt the same way.

By the time I realized it, I was half-dazed from all the lovey-doodle nonsense, and I couldn’t help but blurt out:

“Papa… how old were you back then?”

“…I think it was around seven?”

Mother tilted her head with that little, dreamy nod—adorable, of course—but I couldn’t help it. I yelled at reality itself.

“OUTAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

＊＊＊

On the other side of the water mirror, Lovell had no idea his own daughter was lecturing their mother—now facing what he considered the greatest enemy of his life.

"Our family...?"

Lavissel’s words were nothing unusual to the other nobles.

From the onlookers, pleading glances could be seen.

If Lovell left now, the nation would be exposed to artificial wonders beyond measure.

"It's not my decision, is it?"

He hinted that it was his brother, the head of the Vanklyft Family, who would decide.

Lovell’s reply would push the royal family further into crisis. They’d be sent straight to divorce mediation.

The consequences of Agiel’s infidelity had grown so large, they could shake the entire country.

"I understand. The King will be there, but I’ll be there too. Agiel’s responsibility lies with the royal family."

The air around them shivered at Lavisel’s words.

The royal family had admitted fault—completely, publicly. Royals didn’t admit fault over something so trivial.

A picture was forming in the court: the Vanklyft Family had bested the royal house. But Lovell couldn’t hide his scoff.

To refuse to acknowledge the one apologizing? That kind of move would make you look like a fool to anyone watching.

“Let’s continue this discussion with the Judicial Office involved.”

“Ah. You’ve done well this time.”

Bowing to the Prince’s words, Lovell turned and left.

The moment his figure vanished, the nobles who’d been watching quietly from the sidelines lost their composure.

The royal family and the Vanklyft Family were on the brink of breaking apart—thanks to Agiel.

The news spread across the entire country in an instant.

＊＊＊

Hidden from view, Sauvel, the younger brother, exhaled deeply.

"Brother’s quite the showman, huh…"

I marvel at the way he held his own against royalty. If I’d been there, I’d have been utterly outmaneuvered.

Lovell didn’t lie. Not one word. But Agiel’s schemes—well, they were going nowhere near where things were actually heading.

The way he commanded the room, read the mood, steered the situation—no easy feat.

Still, Lovell had sworn it. He’d stand by Sauvel’s side.

Hinting that the Vanklyft Family’s loyalty depended on the head of the family’s word—just like that, Sauvel’s position was locked in stone.

The current head, who’d been bending to Agiel’s every whim, his pride trampled, his authority mocked.

Some might’ve laughed, thinking the brother had finally shown up to strike back.

But Lovell’s single sentence wiped that smirk clean off their faces.

It was the same as saying: the Vanklyft Family would cut ties with the Royal House—whenever the Royal House chose to cut ties with them.

But the royal family hit back too.

If Lovell abandoned us, this country would be attacked all at once by the neighboring nations.

The noble lords who care only for themselves would flee in an instant, leaving behind only the common people with no way to fight back.

The Vanklyft Family has always protected the people. That prince knew that when he offered his apology.

If Lovell abandons us, the nation is finished. And then... what happens to the people?

It’s the same as holding them hostage.

And yet, even in this crisis, that prince somehow manages to make things work.

I think I finally understand why Sauvel despises Lovell so much—he sees him as the enemy.