Ivan had just arrived at the Intelligence Command Headquarters when everyone from the guards to the agents at the desk stood up to greet him.
"Oh my god, it's really him?"
"Little Ivan..."
Whispers filled the headquarters as Ivan walked through. Behind him, people whispered quietly, while those in front of him stood stiffly and bowed respectfully.
Suddenly, an agent whose gaze met Ivan's hastily raised his hand in salute and approached him.
"It-it's an honor to meet you, Major Petrovich!"
"Do you know me?"
"Yes, I do."
The young man who met Ivan's gaze trembled slightly before quickly responding.
"I'm from the generation that learned from the manual you wrote!"
"Ah, that."
Ivan nodded. He remembered writing such a thing.
It was something like a diary that recorded his experiences infiltrating demon residential areas and assassinating key figures in the field.
And just like diaries typically are, when someone reads what you've written, it becomes extremely embarrassing. Ivan expressionlessly turned his head away.
"Are you here to see Major Cherkatov?"
"Yes. Please inform Minister of the Royal Household Kirillovna that I have matters to report directly to her."
"...I'll escort you to the East Palace. This way, please."
Ivan nodded briefly and followed this nameless agent. A suffocating silence pressed down on their surroundings.
A direct report to Her Highness the Princess? How critical must this matter be...?
The agents each bowed stiffly in salute behind Ivan before returning to their posts. They sensed things would get busy.
Whatever was about to happen, when "Little" Ivan personally met with the Princess, the repercussions would inevitably affect them all.
The Krasilov East Palace was a massive marble structure built exclusively for the Princess.
Due to the Princess's personality, it emphasized extreme practicality over regal grandeur, but its size and symbolism alone left a powerful impression.
Ivan got out in front of the large entrance adorned with reliefs. The agent who had driven the carriage silently saluted and disappeared beyond the street.
Being in front of the palace, it wouldn't be strange if someone was watching, but Ivan didn't particularly care.
"Dmitri."
"Oh, senior!"
Dmitri looked like he had just woken up, perhaps having rushed out after receiving the report. He combed his hair back with his fingers and smiled good-naturedly.
"Let's go right away! Her Excellency is already waiting."
"She knew I was coming?"
"Well, she didn't retire to her chambers tonight!"
Dmitri smiled slightly, thinking of Elizabeta who would be anxiously pacing.
If the mission had succeeded, the airship should have disappeared from above Pritzenkaya.
And if the mission had failed, news of Ivan's death would have arrived.
Either way, it would have been difficult to sleep. Anticipating Elizabeta's concern, Dmitri had also been working with sleepless eyes.
"Her Excellency is in the rear garden. Let's go!"
The East Palace's rear garden opened toward the main street leading to St. Yansk University. This meant that sitting in the garden, one could see the airship in the sky.
She was a woman who would have been waiting there, watching the sky to confirm the mission's success or failure. That meticulous woman, yet simultaneously that compassionate woman.
Dmitri walked ahead and smiled softly.
-Our meeting should take place at a more appropriate time, in a more appropriate place.
In the end, it turned out to be not such a romantic meeting after all. He smirked, recalling Elizabeta's words.
As Ivan headed toward the rear garden, he became lost in thought, recalling the last image of Elizabeta he remembered.
-I'm sorry. I'm so sorry... Vanka. Truly, truly sorry.
On a rainy, gloomy day, she had stood there, sobbing. She was remarkably small. He suddenly wondered how such a woman could have been born from the bloodline of that robust former king.
-You... you of all people had the right to resent me, this country. You had that right. Even if you had fled, I wouldn't have blamed you.
What had he answered to the Princess who was sobbing in the rain?
Ivan could recall it immediately.
-Do you have any roses?
-...What...?
-Cherenoviка liked roses.
That place was a funeral site, and simultaneously a burial ground.
Without a single tombstone, and without receiving any condolences.
A funeral site honoring the agents' final moments, where no one else would mourn them. For those who were meant to be forgotten.
It was a desolate empty lot in a corner of Pritzenkaya's downtown, which had been reduced to ruins by war, until the Intelligence Command Headquarters building was later established there.
In a place without even eaves to block the falling rain, soaked by the cold winter rain, Elizabeta asked with a haggard face.
-Do you remember what the others liked too?
-Yes. All of them, every single one.
-Tell me. I will remember.
That was enough. Ivan's mouth quietly opened. When his words were finished, Elizabeta whispered softly.
-Roses, chocolate cake, musk perfume, silk hangers...
Reciting the names of the departed agents and the things they had loved, Elizabeta whispered over and over.
As the falling rain gradually subsided, she looked up at him with tear-soaked eyes and reached out her arms.
It was cold. Her fingertips, chilled cold, trembled slightly, perhaps from the cold.
Ivan stood still, feeling Elizabeta's slender hand caressing his cheek.
-Vanka. Please live quietly. Without catching anyone's eye, quietly. So this country can forget you.
Ivan was a specialized agent trained in lip-reading, so he could read even the words Elizabeta muttered without speaking aloud.
So that only I can remember you.
Because no one else in this country deserves that right.
-But don't ruin your face. Hmm... yes. How about growing a beard?
-A beard... Your Highness?
-Yes, like my grandfather. I think it would suit you well.
Ivan nodded slightly, recalling the face of the great former king. It was indeed a magnificent beard. It had a dignified, masculine charm.
Ivan stayed there a while longer, standing in the rain, before turning around and leaving.
That was the last time between him and the Princess. Four years had passed since then.
Thanks to the Princess's help, many people had forgotten him.
Fortunately, since he had once been a high-ranking officer in the Royal Guard, his name remained in the national cemetery.
Passing through the entrance to the rear garden, a vast flower garden appeared.
Flowers meticulously maintained by magic were blooming profusely under the night sky.
Ivan paused his steps for a moment.
Roses, lilies, freesias... The sight of various flowers blooming indiscriminately might have seemed like a carelessly tended garden to some, but.
Ivan could tell. This was a memorial garden for those who had fallen in the last war.
Flowers that the deceased had preferred in life had been researched and planted so they could bloom throughout all four seasons.
So that they would never be forgotten.
"Your Excellency, Dmitri Cherkatov has arrived at the palace."
"Come closer."
A cold voice was heard. Beyond the flower garden, a long outdoor table was visible.
A table gleaming white in the moonlight, with simple refreshments placed on it.
Beyond that, a small woman could be seen shuffling through a pile of documents.
"Vanka. It's been a while."
The woman with silver hair neatly arranged and secured with a blue pin was wearing a royal dress, not the utilitarian uniform he remembered her usually wearing.
Wearing a blue dress, the woman raised her head to look at him.
As Ivan was choosing his words, her eyes widened in shock.
"Good... heavens..."
Ivan, being a trained agent, could deduce through lip-reading what she had swallowed back.
What on earth have I done...
Her gaze was fixed on Ivan's chin.
It took some time for Elizabeta to recover from her shock.
She had to clear her throat several times, trying not to look directly at Ivan's face.
By the time Ivan's report ended, she had regained her composure and returned to her cold expression, no longer showing her embarrassment.
"So Beolgrin appeared in person and said that."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Hmm."
Elizabeta tapped the table, lost in thought.
After a moment, she raised her head to look at the sky. Stars were scattered across the dark night sky.
"Vanka. My most trusted Woodsman."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"You've met my father. What did you think of him?"
"...His Majesty was..."
Listening to Ivan's words, Elizabeta smiled slightly and spoke.
"His Majesty, is it? Was he truly that?"
"..."
"A dull-witted man who believed all problems would resolve themselves if he just sat quietly with his mouth shut. I would gladly despise my father. I must."
Her eyes were burning fiercely.
"The United Kingdom feared a well-honed sword. Did you know? If the Hero Party hadn't disbanded, a second war would have broken out. A war that would have been recorded in history as a conflict between individuals and collectives."
After the Demon King's advent, the monarchs of the United Kingdom fell into deep contemplation.
While the enemy forces were frightening, the most terrifying thing was the existence of individuals who could overwhelm those forces.
The existence of individuals who could challenge collectives was itself a challenge to authority.
Therefore, if the Hero Party hadn't disbanded, if they hadn't returned to their respective hometowns as members of society, the world would have faced a second war.
"So Maximillian didn't disappear... And Beolgrin is looking for my brother."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"I'll handle the 'fake' brother in this city myself. Don't worry about that. But, yes... I wonder why my 'real' brother would form a connection with the great magician of the Hero Party."
Elizabeta's eyes gleamed sharply.
"If we assume there was a reason they had to perish in that era, just like the reason you all had to fall, and if we assume there was one person who absolutely had to be eliminated, who do you think that would be?"
"...Maximillian."
"Yes. That's right. Humanity's strongest. The greatest of all time. The 'Demon King Slayer' Maximillian. That man."
Beolgrin had planned all this to locate the real Crown Prince's position.
If he mentioned Maximillian's seclusion in the midst of this, it would be reasonable to assume there was some meaningful connection between the two.
Then there was only one question left.
'How.'
How could anyone possibly 'disappear' such a formidable man?
What method could possibly eliminate that man? Was it even possible? Even Ivan, who knew many of the United Kingdom's strongest figures, couldn't easily imagine it.
It might be possible if all members of the Hero Party ambushed Maximillian.
But that was unlikely. And barring such a scenario, Maximillian would never have fallen by human hands.
"You wait. I'll look into that method... and the reason why it had to be done."
"Yes."
"Please sit. I've kept my guest standing too long. I ask for your understanding."
Ivan sat in the seat prepared for him. A maid approached and poured steaming hot tea into his cup.
-Scrape.
Elizabeta pulled up a chair and sat beside him.
"Let's put aside work talk for now. For now, yes. Can we enjoy the present?"
"..."
"It's been four years, Vanka. I had hoped our meeting would be more romantic than this, but well. How could the world flow as expected?"
They sat side by side, gazing at the flower garden.
The flowers, shimmering under the moonlight, swayed gently in the breeze.
"Do you recognize them?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
"I haven't forgotten."
This small woman, who still only reached his chest, smiled faintly.
It was a smile tinged with deep fatigue and pain, yet still bearing traces of the vibrant light from more spirited times.
"When I look out from the terrace of my office, I can see this garden directly."
"Your Highness. I wish you wouldn't look at the flowers."
"Hmm?"
"The former king once told me something."
Ivan recalled the old days for a moment, choosing his words.
It was from his time serving in the Royal Guard.
"He wished that Your Highness would look at the sky rather than the ground, as the blood price of war and hardship is your burden to bear."
"..."
Elizabeta silently caressed her teacup. Ivan raised his head to look at the sky.
The night sky was scattered with stars like grains of sand.
Perhaps one of the few advantages of this pre-modern fantasy world with little light pollution was the beauty of the night sky.
Ivan spoke in a calm voice.
"You said you remember the departed when you look at the flowers. But that isn't right. Do you remember our creed?"
"...Do not mourn those who have departed."
"Yes, because we too stand in the same ranks as them. Because we are all destined to leave this earth someday."
At Ivan's words, Elizabeta closed her eyes.
He poured tea into Elizabeta's cup and placed it in her hands.
The white teacup had warmed up with the red tea. It was warm.
"Please continue His Majesty the former king's wishes. Look at the sky, not the ground, as you walk. When you occasionally long for those who have departed, look at the night sky instead."
Elizabeta opened her eyes at his words. The night sky was not dark. Beyond the black sky, stars were profusely spread out between the clouds that had suddenly appeared.
"Don't see the departed in the flowers. Count us by the stars. They would want that from you too."
"Vanka..."
Elizabeta turned to look at Ivan.
She gazed at him for a long time with tear-filled eyes, then quietly reached out her hand.
Her hand, warmed by the teacup, rested on his cheek. After looking at him for a moment, Elizabeta quietly asked.
"How about trimming your beard a little?"
"Please... be understanding."
"What if I order it?"
"I have already taken my leave, Your Highness."
"It seems your eloquence has only grown since then."
Elizabeta smiled broadly, saying something that would have provoked fierce opposition from Enrique if she had heard it.