The palace was suffocatingly silent from dawn on the day the king was to be chosen.
Nobles of every rank—dukes, marquises, and counts—had gathered from across the kingdom in the Great Hall, with their aides and guards lined up behind them. In numbers alone, it looked like any other celebratory banquet. Yet there was almost no laughter; every time someone exchanged a greeting, the eyes of those nearby shifted, as if confirming the family crest on the speaker's chest and their position in the room.
I stood in the row assigned to the counts' houses and glanced at Clarice beside me.
Her eyes traced the family crests displayed across the hall one by one, her fingers more restless than usual. Without her realizing it, the corner of the memo she held had already become dog-eared.
"House Calden is back... House Marquis Norden has signaled support for Lady Alecia... If Count Raudel joins us, too... we might still reach it."
"...How many times have you recounted those votes this morning?"
"I know, I know! But if we lose, it won't just be Lady Alecia’s problem. You picked a fight with the First Prince in front of everyone, remember?"
"I only stated facts."
"Which is exactly what people call picking a fight..."
I told her that getting nervous now wouldn't increase the votes. Clarice let out a small sigh, but the fingers gripping her memo didn't loosen.
Two chairs were placed at the far end of the hall. On the right was the First Prince, Regnard; on the left was the Second Princess, Alecia. The space between them was so wide it felt unnaturally empty.
The whispers of the old counts nearby reached my ears.
"...If Her Royal Highness the First Princess had remained in the kingdom, it wouldn't have come to this."
"An impossibility. Even as a child, she was the type to ditch her ladies-in-waiting, slip out of the castle, and ride for the woods. Even if you'd chained her to the throne, she would have escaped through a window in three days."
"I heard she didn't show a hint of regret about her succession rights when she married abroad..."
"She loves her freedom. To her, a crown must have looked like nothing more than a heavy chain."
The First Princess had personally renounced her right to the throne when she married into another country. It was said she had no interest in power and felt no lingering attachment to the kingdom. Thus, the only ones competing for the throne today were Regnard and Alecia.
"She threw away her chance to be ruler and fled to another country to avoid the headache... A clever woman."
"Vain, you're probably the only person who would be impressed by that."
"If it were me, I’d put a price tag on the crown before running away."
"I am truly glad you weren't born into the royal family..."
In the middle of the tense hall, the corners of Clarice's mouth relaxed just a fraction.
At that moment, the massive entrance doors swung open.
Duke Eldran entered. Clad in old-fashioned formal attire that suited his massive frame, he walked in without paying the slightest mind to the gazes following him. Lydia followed half a step behind, her silver hair tied up.
Last night, she had come to my office to inform me she would return to the royal capital before dawn to report to her father. She had left her hundred soldiers in the care of her lieutenant back in the Razgrim domain.
"She really made it back first thing in the morning... To arrive just in time for the Royal Selection, she’s a needlessly diligent woman."
"She did tell you she would, didn't she?"
"I wanted to tell her to at least leave enough time to retract the report about my life of decadence."
"Give up on that. If it's Lady Lydia, I'm sure she wrote that part in the largest letters possible."
My eyes met Lydia’s. Perhaps because of the formal setting, she hid her usual stern expression and gave a shallow bow. I acknowledged her with a similar nod, but Eldran beside her merely snorted.
The head of the most powerful neutral faction, who had turned away messengers from both the First Prince and the Second Princess and kept his stance hidden until the very end. If House Eldran moved, the influential houses of the west would move as a single block with them.
"Look at Marquis Dalgren."
Clarice's voice dropped.
The Marquis, Alecia’s longtime supporter, was speaking with a noble from the First Prince faction. He wasn't wearing a fawning smile. His complexion was ghastly, and he kept clutching his cuffs.
"That's not the face of a man moved by money. Someone who got what they wanted would be a bit more composed."
"...Do you think he'll betray us?"
"I don't know. If we label someone an enemy just because they're acting suspicious, we're no better than Regnard. As long as we don't know what he's being threatened with, we have no choice but to watch in silence."
I had already been exploited by Regnard once because I lacked information on the capital. I had no intention of repeating the mistake.
A calm voice reached me from behind.
"It has been quite a while, Lord Razgrim. It seems you intend to stand by my sister's side until the very end."
I turned to see Regnard wearing a soft smile.
"Is that something you need to confirm now?"
"No... I simply assumed a man as shrewd as you would have chosen a safer path in the end."
"Because I'm shrewd, I chose Alecia."
"I see. In that case, I hope you still feel the same way tomorrow morning. I would consider it a terrible waste to lose you."
His voice wasn't overtly threatening. He was feigning concern for my wellbeing while forcing me to imagine the aftermath of Alecia’s defeat.
"You're worrying about the wrong person. The one who might be in trouble tomorrow morning is you."
"If that happens, I shall have to acknowledge your foresight."
Regnard kept his smile perfectly intact as he returned to his seat.
Clarice watched his back and let out a small breath.
"...He really doesn't get angry, does he?"
"He probably thinks there's no need to shout. He has the face of a man who believes the world will move exactly as he commands."
"Do you think he's set a trap?"
"He wouldn't be himself if he hadn't."
Eventually, the doors at the rear of the hall opened, and Alecia appeared.
Dressed in light blue formal wear, she walked slowly with her head held high. Only for the briefest second when she spotted me did the tension leave her eyes, but she didn't come near. She greeted those who remained loyal, those who had returned, and those who were still undecided with the same measured grace.
"She isn't coming over."
"If she stood by me here and now, she’d look like a princess being propped up by a count. She knows better than that."
"...You look a little proud of her?"
"...It’s your imagination."
Clarice said nothing, but this time she truly smiled.
As the Old Prime Minister stepped into the center of the hall, every door was sealed shut.
"We shall now determine the ruler who will lead the Kingdom of Valsein into its next era. Let the houses whose names are called declare whether they support His Highness First Prince Regnard or Her Highness Second Princess Alecia."
Following ancient custom, the names were called in a predetermined order. The head of each house stated their choice and pressed their family seal into the register held by the royal scribe. Once a seal was pressed, it was final.
—First Prince.
—Second Princess.
—First Prince again.
With every house that answered, the atmosphere in the hall tilted.
House Count Calden chose Alecia. Marquis Norden also stood, declaring he would entrust the country to someone who did not flee from inconvenient truths, and spoke Alecia’s name.
Eventually, my name was called. I declared that House Razgrim supported Her Highness Second Princess Alecia Valsein and pressed my seal. There was no reason to hesitate.
Then, Count Raudel, who had remained silent until now, rose from his seat.
"House Count Raudel supports Her Highness Second Princess Alecia. Her Highness did not hide her own strengths, nor what she lacks as a ruler. I believe in her resolve to learn what is missing from others."
Alecia bowed deeply.
The gap was closing.
Clarice’s fingers gripped my sleeve.
"We’ve reached it... we can still reach it."
"It isn't over yet. Don't let your guard down."
Just as I said it, the Old Prime Minister called Marquis Dalgren’s name.
Everyone in the hall thought they knew the answer. The Marquis’s house had supported Alecia for years and stayed by her side even as her position grew precarious.
Marquis Dalgren stood, but he didn't speak immediately. His lips were parched, and his clenched fists trembled.
Alecia waited for his words with absolute trust.
"House Marquis Dalgren... supports His Highness First Prince Regnard as the next king."
The hall erupted in a roar of whispers. Beside me, Clarice gasped. The memo in her hand crumpled loudly as the color drained from her face.
"No... Marquis Dalgren said he would support Lady Alecia until the end..."
"Keep your voice down. It’s not over yet."
"But with this vote... House Razgrim won't walk away from this unscathed."
"I know. That’s why Regnard kept this hidden until the last moment."
Alecia couldn't bring herself to look forward for a long moment.
This was the man who had been her pillar, who had promised to stay even after the struggle with her brother turned bitter. They had consulted dozens of times; he had been the one who stayed when everyone else left. And now, the name Regnard had come from his lips.
"...Marquis Dalgren."
Her voice was a hoarse whisper. The Marquis couldn't raise his head. He stared at the floor with his fists clenched, unable to even meet her eyes.
Why? Was everything until now a lie? She must have wanted to scream the questions at him.
But Alecia pressed her lips together and lowered her gaze. Her tensed shoulders slumped slightly, and her chest trembled as she tried to draw a breath.
"Lady Alecia..."
Clarice called her name softly, unable to move.
The memo in her hand was a mangled mess, her fingertips white from the pressure. She was terrified for the Alecia who had been betrayed, but she also clearly understood what this single vote meant for the future of House Razgrim.
I took the memo from Clarice’s hand and lightly smoothed out the crumpled edge.
"The match isn't decided yet. Don't look like you've lost already."
"...I know. Just give me a second to breathe."
Alecia took one breath, then another, and slowly opened her trembling fingers.
"...I have acknowledged the will of House Marquis Dalgren."
Her voice was stiff and lower than usual. She was clearly wounded. Yet she did not brand him a traitor, nor did she demand a reason. Regnard put on a face as if he were hearing the news for the first time and calmly bowed to Marquis Dalgren.
"...As I thought, they had something on him."
"Likely."
"Vain, can't we do something?"
"If we make a scene here, we might destroy whatever he's trying so hard to protect. Until we know what he's being threatened with, we can't move."
With Marquis Dalgren’s vote, the First Prince’s lead was restored. The remaining houses finished their declarations, leaving only one blank space in the register.
The Old Prime Minister looked up.
"Finally—House Duke Eldran."
The eyes of the entire hall fell upon the old man.
But Duke Eldran did not stand. Lydia, attending at his side, looked at his profile as if she too were unsure of what her father was thinking.
After waiting for a moment, the Old Prime Minister looked up from the register.
"Duke Eldran! If you cannot name a candidate to support, may I assume House Duke Eldran remains neutral?"
Eldran didn't answer.
He merely looked toward me once in my distant row, then looked at Lydia beside him. While every noble in the hall held their breath, the stubborn old man's thick fingers slowly lifted from the armrest of his chair.