Chapter 48: Queen Eliza

As the final contestant, Arthur, proceeds through the door, the second test has officially started for us, and true to Pedro’s words before, this seems much simpler to perform. In front of us at the moment is only an empty room with four desks, representing four contestants, and on each desk is a quill pen and a piece of paper. A written test. However, what seems to be simple instead strikes each of us with a different meaning. Arthur is visibly disgusted at the scene, but it’s hard to tell if he’s actually mad at the test or he’s still having his attitude from his last confrontation. Peng is indifferent, seemingly used to what he’s seeing. However, Benkei is the most severe out of us.

Even when he didn’t have to lift a finger until just now, the young man’s face almost instantly turns into a lifeless pale as soon as the sight of paper and pen appears before his eyes. Cold sweat pores on his forehead as if he was struck down with a nasty cold, while his hand desperately covers his mouth to prevent a nauseous vomit.

“What’s wrong?” I pat on his back, but soon realize his entire body is unnaturally cold, almost freezing, even.

“Are you okay?”

“Hah… hah…” contact with another person has finally calmed him down, as Benkei’s hands leave his mouth and he starts to gasp for air. “… I’m fine… I think…”

“What happened?”

“Repressed memories… from the original…” Benkei struggles to answer properly. “I never thought… it’d be this bad…”

“The original? … Katsu?”

“Yeah. Since I also have Byleth’s memories, fighting doesn’t seem to trigger his trauma, but studying does.”

“… How is he now?”

“Still refusing to go out, unfortunately.” With a sigh, Benkei concludes the story. And just in time for the current proctor – once again Pedro – to come in.

Placing his hand on his chest to ease the pain from the earlier fight, the knight finally turns to us:

“Normally, I’m not supposed to be the proctor of this part, but…”

“Hold on!” A sudden high-pitched voice echoes through the walls like the sound of a cannonball, interrupting the explanation in the most annoying way possible. As all of us cover our ears in discomfort, I ask:

“Who the heck was that?”

Before Pedro could answer, however, a small figure has already knocked over the door with a swift kick and barged into the room like a pack of stampeding animals. Revealing herself to be a rather short girl seemingly even younger than Pedro himself, she replies with a gratingly loud tone:

“Captain, you’re officially dismissed from the position of proctor! And I hereby order you to spend the rest of the day as my escort around town!”

“Who’s this… sassy lost child?” Peng asks with a grimace, pointing towards the little gremlin.

“Who are you calling a child!” The girl tosses her silver hair in rage and annoyance. “Off to the dungeon for you!”

“Your Highness, you can’t threaten to put people in dungeons over every little thing,” Pedro, meanwhile, lets out an audible sigh, seemingly too used to these kinds of antics. “And besides, we don’t even use that thing anymore.”

“So… can anyone answer my question?” Peng once again sounds.

Pedro hesitates for a second but ultimately decides to continue. Gesturing towards the little girl, he continues with an awkward smile. “This one is… Second Princess Eliza Bedryant, soon-to-be Queen of England.”

“… You’re kidding me, right?” Peng, on the other hand, has fully given up and thrown away all of the politeness remaining in him.

“I now see why the Round is reduced to this state,” Arthur, meanwhile, lets out a condescending smirk. The remark is poised to erupt another tantrum from the royal child, but in the end, right as we’re all expecting the worst, Eliza calms down and smirks in return as well:

“… Talk all you want, but aren’t you willingly joining this dump of an army?”

“Sharp tongue for a brat,” Arthur snickers. “But I’m only here because I have to.”

“And I’ll have you know, I’m only one year away from being a proper adult.”

“So you’re still a brat.”

“Anyway,” Pedro quickly interrupts the conversation before it gets more out of hand. “With all due respect, your Highness, we can’t stop the exam now. The Round is already bad enough as it is.”

“Are you telling me you actually believe that these people will stay with us permanently?” The young princess raises her eyebrows in doubt and surprise. “We can’t trust them, Captain. They’re not one of us. All I need are enough protection until I become Queen, and after that, I can take care of myself.”

“But, your Highness, remember…”

“You mean your old friend, Captain? Last I heard, he’s dead along with my sister, is he not?”

“… Your Highness, please refrain from saying such words.” An ember can be felt lighting up inside Pedro’s spirit, burning silently yet fiercely before his ruler’s words. Eliza, however, is still unfazed in front of the heat and replies with an icy-cold voice:

“No matter how much you want to believe it, Pedro, you can’t change the truth. Or are you telling me that if the two are somehow alive, you’re going to join them and turn against me?”

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“N-no, of course not, your Highness! I would never betray my own kingdom!”

“Is that so?” Smirks Arthur once more. “When it’s not even your home in the first place?”

“This is my home. What are you talking about?”

“… Have it your way, then. But you’ll have to face the truth sooner or later.”

“… We’ve wasted enough time here,” Pedro quickly shakes his head as if to get rid of any excess thoughts and tries to continue the main purpose of our gathering. However, his intentions are once again foiled by his own ally:

“No need. I’ll take them all.” Eliza promptly declares.

“Your Highness…”

“I’ve seen their fights back on the grounds; they’re all proficient enough to serve me,” with a smug glance towards each of us, the young princess responds. “And besides, I’m rather interested in a particular one…”

Her eyes shift to Arthur as if trying to dig out whatever it is he’s hiding beneath that unkempt look and that sharp tongue of his, but her attempt is only met with a scowl as the young man dodges her eyes with ease.

“I…” Pedro tries to reason with the rash decision, but in the end, he has no choice but to give up entirely. “… Okay, suit yourself.”

“Welcome to the Round, all of you,” turning to us, he lets out an awkward smile. “I’ll return to the Palace to finish the necessary procedures; in the meanwhile, you can stay here and rest up.”

 

As the knight and the princess’s figures disappear beyond the horizon, only us contestants, or rather, rookie knights are gathered on the training court. And without any prying eyes, this is the perfect opportunity to get the answers to the plethora of questions that we have.

“Arthur, isn’t it?” I’m the first to start the conversation. “Tell us about yourself.”

“… What do you mean?” The young man raises his eyebrows in response.

“I mean your origins, and more importantly, how much you know about our current situation.”

“I’m an Egyptian hitman, nothing more, nothing less. And as for what I know… about the same as you, I assume,” Arthur answers, but his choice of words still leaves us in the dark.

“Lies,” Benkei retorts. “Your skin is far too pale to be Egyptian. Either you’ve covered yourself and stayed indoors your entire life, or you’ve only been to Egypt for not too long.”

“I’m a hitman, what else do you expect?” Smirks Arthur. “We operate in the shadows; the moon is our only companion. It’s only natural that I would cover myself and stay indoors during the day.”

“You’re not a hitman,” this time, it’s Peng that disagrees. “Your movements are far too powerful and flashy. If you operate in the shadows, you wouldn’t want others to notice your fighting.”

“If no one is alive, then no one would see you.” Arthur lets out a grin before the accusations. It seems like he has an excuse for everything we can throw at him. And if that’s the case, then…

“What do you know about this?” I bring out the last card to convince him. Holding Asmodai’s cross firmly in my hand, I raise it forward and ask.

“It’s a Demon’s cross,” the young man answers, but not in a way that I expected. “Pelle told me about them. And?”

“You… don’t have one?” I ask.

“Nope. Pelle is the one with a cross. As I said, I’m just a hitman.”

“Then why is she working with an archangel?”

“Gabriel? I think you’re misunderstanding something, lady,” still with a confident grin, Arthur replies. “We’re not working with him; he’s working with us.”

“… Then we can assume he’s an ally?”

“No, but he’s not going to get in your way.”

“… Fine. But one last question, Arthur Gold. Are you our ally?”

“… Sure, you can say that.” The young man hesitates for a brief moment, but soon gives out a nod of confirmation. Seeing the sincerity in his eyes, I choose to believe in this strange man… for now.

“Alright, then. Pleased to be working with you.” I raise my hand forward to offer a shake, but never before have I imagined my gesture of goodwill being shot down so fast. The young man doesn’t even look at my hand for a second, instead choosing to turn around and return to his room in the building, waving us goodbye while throwing out a cold remark:

“We might be on the same side, but you’re on your own. Unless your lives are in danger, don’t expect me to help.”

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