Forty-six seconds late.

  Third time this week.

  He comes in without a word and leaves the unmarked envelope on my desk.

  I do not open it.

  「Eslabon diez?」

  「He has not returned.」

  「Last contact time.」

  「18:19. Transmission cut off. The last order received was confirmation of pursuit, south of the Training Tower. Nothing after that.」

  The ceremony began at 17:00.

  At 17:45, the explosion.

  It is now 08:00.

  And I am still without a princess.

  No report.

  No trace.

  「The others?」

  「The four escorts assigned to him have not returned either. They were not formal spellcasters. Only equipped with Spelarita armament.」

  I look down at the envelope.

  It is not a report.

  It is an absence with stationery.

  「Has the Council moved?」

  「Not yet. The festivities continue until midday. But the rumor that the princess has skipped all subsequent events is spreading.」

  No one will care that she ran.

  They will care that she ran without permission.

  And without consequences.

  「Send Link Nine.」

  My aide holds his breath.

  「Telmira?」

  「Exactly. With a sensomancer. Someone who can read without being noticed. And an echo-stone, properly tuned.」

  「Just the two of them?」

  「Anything more would be excessive. This is not an invasion. This is an autopsy.

  They will bring back whatever remains.

  Or confirm that there is nothing left.」

  Silence.

  Footsteps.

  The sound of the door closing.

  Only then do I open the envelope.

  Empty.

  I smile.

  Not out of victory.

  Simply because at last, it starts to feel like a game.

  The meeting starts at nine.

  By nine-oh-two, the technicians have finished.

  Then the polite applause begins.

  Five Council members. Three civilian bureaucrats.

  Representatives of influential families, invited not out of necessity but to keep the picture balanced.

  I listen.

  Sometimes attentively.

  Sometimes with rehearsed warmth.

  「Agricultural output remains stable in rings Two and Three. We have exceeded projected yields.」

  「Good. The land always answers if you bother to listen. Well done. See that you do not slack on the sowing.」

  「This year the guilds have requested fewer mana subsidies for urban distribution. Is that due to tighter regulations?」

  「Just visible enough. Show too much control and you raise suspicion. Show just enough, and you earn respect.」

  Faces turn toward me with satisfaction.

  Not one of them trusts me completely.

  That is as it should be.

  Only someone you do not fully trust can truly move you.

  「The prototype resonant lance deployed to Kharet Port has doubled in value in a week. They are requesting additional units for their main garrison.」

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  「Kharet pays on time and does not ask questions. That is what defines a good client.」

  「Shall we authorize a second shipment?」

  「Authorize it. Level one limitation. Ten percent amplification. Strong enough to impress, not enough to make them bold.」

  Quills scratch.

  A few gazes sharpen, just a little.

  A few months ago they would not have dared to discuss such matters in open session.

  A small pause.

  For a moment, my thoughts drift to another client.

  One who did not pay in coin, but in limits.

  The training ground was empty.

  Just as I had requested.

  The King watched from the high balcony, the Queen at his side, one hand over his, as if simple touch could hold back the illness.

  On his other side stood the Staff.

  Silent. Upright. Observing.

  The assigned mage emerged with careful steps, carrying the raw stone in both hands as though it might shatter.

  Because it might.

  「Your Majesty, forgive me. We have not refined enough material to forge a proper focus. The demonstration will use the stone directly.」

  「That is fine. Be quick. I wish to rest.」

  As soon as the Spelarita began to rise, the air tightened.

  Not from heat.

  From density.

  The air itself seemed to anticipate destruction.

  The fireball swelled to the size of a carriage.

  The impact obliterated the practice dummy and the wall behind it.

  Silence.

  Not the kind that waits for praise.

  The kind that comes before judgment.

  The mage collapsed to his knees.

  The stone rolled out of his reach.

  「What is wrong with that man?」 the King asked, weary.

  「Backlash, most likely, Your Majesty. One does not create craters every day.」

  And then the Staff spoke.

  Low voice.

  Flat.

  「He has power, yes. But no stability.

  Useless as a weapon.

  Perhaps, in small amounts, it could be used to heat bathwater.」

  Streetlamps.

  Few times in my life have I felt such contained hatred.

  「Your Majesty, of course the stone needs more time. As I explained, we are still in early stages. But one thing is clear: this material is pure potential.」

  「…Hmmm. Very well. You will continue. For now.」

  Enough not to halt the project.

  Not enough to let it run free.

  To gain that, I would need something else.

  But there is no Staff now.

  And without the Staff… there is no line that cannot be crossed.

  「As for the magical infant registry, thirteen new entries this week. Two with early aptitude.」

  「…My lord?」

  The bureaucrat’s prompt drags me back.

  The faint smile on my face fades.

  I incline my head slightly.

  「Record them. Six cycles of passive monitoring. A precaution before it becomes a threat.」

  「Instruction?」

  「The bare minimum. Just enough that they do not decide to teach themselves.」

  A brief laugh passes around the table.

  Not out of amusement.

  Out of habit.

  After that, the usual talk: outer trade routes.

  Supply lines to minor satellite enclaves.

  Everything sounds fine.

  Which, in itself, is a warning sign.

  When I leave the chamber, I walk the main corridor alone.

  The servants know when to step aside.

  Not from fear.

  From efficiency.

  The castle keeps its rhythm.

  Staff moving in precise patterns, like threads in a loom.

  Nothing out of place—in movement or in sound.

  And yet, beneath the silence, something is off.

  No one speaks of her.

  No one asks.

  The heir.

  Not in the halls.

  Not in reception rooms.

  Not in written reports.

  The missing fact is being padded over with excessive politeness.

  Eyes begin to move.

  Not out of pity.

  Out of opportunity.

  The throne remains empty.

  And empty seats invite ambition.

  Past the gallery, one of the younger nobles waits.

  The third son of House Havel.

  He hesitates a moment, then speaks.

  「My lord… will Her Highness be present at the closing ceremonies?」

  「Of course. As always.」

  There is no closing ceremony this year.

  He does not need to know that.

  I walk on.

  Leave him there.

  He remains silent.

  Minutes later, a messenger finds me.

  Wearing exactly the expression I expected.

  「Eslabon nueve has returned, my lord.

  They await you in the evaluation chamber.」

  I nod.

  The official agenda is over.

  Now we can talk about what matters.

  Ouja no Tsue will update three times a week, following a regular schedule.