Stare…
At the long dining table, Lillian and Emilia sat facing each other. From the moment she sat down, Emilia had been glaring at him with clear irritation, leaving the others somewhat confused as to why. Subaru was no exception. In his final return-by-death related to the alley incident, he had not been surrounded and beaten by thugs there. And even if he had been, Lillian would not have appeared again. As a result, Subaru had no idea what kind of relationship existed between Emilia and Lillian.
"Lady Emilia, please don't be angry anymore~" Roswaal said with a smile, glancing at Lillian. "After all, he's the hero who saved the village, you know."
By now, everyone present had learned what had happened between the two—Emilia herself had explained it. Even so, she remained dissatisfied. What angered her most was not that Lillian had taught the street thugs a lesson, but rather how naturally and smoothly he had lied to her.
When ordinary people lie in moments of urgency, there are usually tells—hesitation, awkwardness, something. But Lillian had been flawless. She had even foolishly apologized to him. If Puck had not exposed the lie, she might have been deceived indefinitely. Emilia hated being lied to, and for that reason, she found herself unable to like Lillian.
"I wonder who Lillian studied under," Roswaal finally asked after several rounds of food and drink, getting to the heart of the matter. "Such formidable swordsmanship and physical ability—those aren't things an ordinary mercenary would possess."
"My master doesn't allow me to talk about it," Lillian replied, blocking the question with a single sentence.
"Ohhh! So it's the inheritance of a closed-door student!" Subaru exclaimed excitedly, clearly imagining some classic trope. Lillian simply nodded along with his enthusiasm.
"Yes."
"Awesome!"
"I see~ Then that master must truly be an extraordinary individual," Roswaal said, fingers interlaced beneath his chin as he continued probing. "So, Lillian, are you currently a freelance mercenary? Have you never considered serving under a faction? You must receive many invitations."
"No. I've only just left my master not long ago."
"Is that~ so? Then—"
"Roswaal," Emilia suddenly interrupted him. "We don't need a skilled liar."
Lillian raised an eyebrow slightly and responded calmly, "And I have no intention of supporting a half-elf either."
"H-Hey, you two…"
Their sharp exchange instantly made the atmosphere tense. Lillian rose at just the right moment and said to Roswaal, "Thank you for the hospitality. I should be on my way."
Since he was clearly unwelcome, there was no reason to stay. In truth, Lillian felt a certain gratitude toward Emilia—she had given him a perfect excuse to leave sooner. He had never been particularly comfortable here to begin with.
What surprised him slightly was that after Ram escorted him to the front gate of the mansion, she bowed gently to him.
"I'm sorry. Please don't take it to heart."
"..."
Lillian knew very well that Ram stood firmly on Roswaal's side. If Roswaal ordered her to harm Emilia—or even to kill herself—she would likely do so without hesitation. That kind of warped devotion struck Lillian as terrifying. Her bow and apology, therefore, were for Roswaal's sake, not Emilia's.
"There's no need," Lillian said. He bore her no ill will, but had nothing more to say. He waved lightly. "Then… goodbye."
"Safe travels."
Ram watched as Lillian mounted his ground dragon and rode away before returning to the mansion. Inside the main hall, Emilia was voicing her thoughts to Roswaal.
"Even though we truly lack manpower right now, I don't think we should work with someone whose character is questionable," she said. If he can lie to me so naturally, he could do the same to the people in the future. That's something I can't accept."
"I see. That's understandable~," Roswaal replied with a smiling expression that made it impossible to tell whether he was sincere. Subaru, standing to the side, supported Emilia without reservation.
"Emilia-tan is absolutely right! I agree one hundred—no, ten thousand percent!"
"Thank you, Subaru."
---
That night, Roswaal gently pushed open a door in the corridor. Inside, a blonde twin-tailed girl in a frilly dress sat on a high chair, reading. She glanced up at him with indifference.
"Roswaal, what do you want?"
"Must we always interact like this? After all, we both deeply love that person."
Beatrice ignored him. Roswaal chuckled softly and extended his hand, revealing a book that emitted a strange aura.
"Has yours changed as well?" he asked, flipping to the latest page and showing it to her. The entire page was filled with a single large question mark: "?"
Beatrice glanced at it and remained silent. That silence was answer enough. Leaning against the doorframe, Roswaal casually flipped through his own book.
"No matter how you look at it, this has something to do with that boy called 'Lillian,' doesn't it?"
The Gospel, or rather, a defective version of the Book of Wisdom—a degraded copy created by the Witch of Greed after deconstructing part of the original's mechanism. The complete Book of Wisdom was known as [The Memory of the World], a record of all things' past, present, and future. Ordinary people could not read it; even a single glance would overwhelm the mind with an unbearable volume of information and cause it to collapse.
As the Witch of Greed's student, Roswaal possessed one such book. Likewise, Beatrice—the great spirit personally created by the Witch of Greed—also held one.
This divine artifact, which recorded fragments of the future, formed the basis of Roswaal's actions. That was why he cared so deeply about the changes appearing within it. With a clownish smile on his face, he said:
"What an inconvenient girl Emilia is. If she weren't needed to become king…"
"Roswaal," Beatrice said coldly, "I'm not interested in this. If there's nothing else, you can leave."
"Is that so?" Roswaal replied. "Aren't you curious? Don't you look forward to the one who will 'free' you? It's been four hundred years—trapped in this library. Don't you feel lonely? Or have you already begun to resent our teacher in your heart…"
"Roswaal." The blonde girl's gaze sharpened dangerously. "Don't let me hear you speak ill of my mother."
"How could~ I?" Roswaal's tone softened. "How could I ever speak badly of teacher? I love her more than anyone."
"..."
"Well, in any case, the one destined to 'change the world' is still that passionate child. As for this Lillian… we'll just observe for now."
With that, he turned and left. After he was gone, Beatrice let out a quiet sigh. She took her Gospel from her lap, opened it to the final page, and stared at its contents.
"Mother… even you are unable to…"