"Neeeeeigh!!"
Letting out a whinny so steeped in agony that even a human like me could plainly tell, the horse's knees buckled, and it tumbled to the ground.
Riding on its back, I had sensed the collapse the instant I heard its cry and leaped off just in time, landing without a scratch.
I landed lightly on my feet and walked over to the horse's side.
Collapsed on the dirt, the beast feebly flailed its legs, utter exhaustion written across its face.
It was the kind of fatigue that came from being driven far past its absolute limits.
"...Apophis, put it out of its misery."
I extended my hand and gave the order.
The ring flashed with light, which then condensed into a clear liquid before flowing straight into the horse's mouth.
Moments later, the pain vanished from its face, and it passed away peacefully.
"Good work... and thank you."
I crouched down and gently closed its eyelids.
Then, rising to my feet, I looked around.
Not a single soul was in sight along the pre-dawn highway.
Neither ahead nor behind me could I see anyone. It would have made things easier if someone had happened by, but wishing wouldn't change anything.
"I'll have to walk for a while, then—urk."
The moment I resigned myself to it and took a step forward, my legs gave out.
My own knees nearly buckled, but I braced myself with all my might and held my ground.
Of course, I thought, but I couldn't afford to stop here.
"Apophis, one more time."
『—』
"It's my own body; I know my limits. Do it."
Apophis, of all things, showed concern for my well-being, but I brushed it aside and repeated the order.
I spoke in a tone that brooked no argument or refusal.
After a breath's pause, light spilled from the ring once more, this time forming a dark navy droplet.
A single droplet floating in midair. I scooped it up with my palm and tossed it into my mouth.
Instantly, my mind snapped awake, sharper than it ever would from the strongest brew of tea.
"Right... let's move."
Spurring myself on aloud, I broke into a jog.
If I could reach the next town, I'd probably find a horse one way or another.
Until then, I just had to grit my teeth and push through.
After running for some time, I spotted a single carriage parked beside the highway against the slowly approaching horizon.
Several men who looked like bodyguards were stationed around it.
The fact that I was close enough to recognize them as bodyguards and make out their details meant they had spotted me as well.
Perhaps recognizing who I was, the men turned toward the carriage as if to alert someone inside.
The next moment, a woman stepped down.
Seeing her, I abandoned my plan to sprint right past and pulled up just short of the carriage.
I found myself standing directly across from her.
The woman bowed gracefully to me.
"I have been waiting for you, Your Majesty."
"Cindy? Why are you here?"
She was a familiar face: Cindy Alan.
Decades ago, back when I was still a child, she was the adopted daughter of the merchant Pylon Alan, whom I had met at a party hosted by the Third Prime Minister of that era.
She had been young back then, but her sharp wit and fearlessness had left a lasting impression on me, which eventually led to establishing a connection with Pylon himself.
We had known each other since childhood—a bond that, among commoners, would easily be called childhood friends.
And that very Cindy was now waiting for me out on the highway.
"By my calculations, if you traveled by super express, your horse would give out right around here."
"I see."
"Please, step inside. I have arranged for a fresh horse to be ready by the time we finish our conversation."
"As tactful as ever, I see."
Praising Cindy, I boarded the carriage.
Once inside, I was taken slightly by surprise.
I had assumed Cindy would be alone, but there were two men sitting within.
They weren't ordinary men, either. Both wore black cloth blindfolds, signaling they were blind.
Beside the two of them sat a comfortable armchair.
"Please, Your Majesty. I have brought skilled masseurs. Naturally, they are both blind and deaf, so you may rest easy."
"Is that so?"
Anma—massage, in other words—was a trade where the blind were renowned for their skill.
People often harbored the misconception that they took up the craft simply because there were no other jobs available, but because most blind individuals naturally developed a heightened sense of touch, they could read the subtle conditions of muscles far better than ordinary people, which made them exceptionally good at what they did.
On top of that, Cindy had chosen men who were also deaf, a silent message that I was free to speak without worry.
Settling into the seat as the carriage began to roll, I spoke to Cindy, who sat beside me in attendance.
"Is your father well?"
"Yes, the latest reports say—"
"Not him. I mean Pylon."
"—Eh? Ah..."
Taken aback, Cindy hurriedly bowed her head.
"F-Forgive me! I assumed you meant..."
"It's fine. My phrasing was ambiguous."
Well? I silently prompted.
"Thank you. Lately, my father has been... well, in no state to focus on work."
"Hmm? Did something happen?"
"Well... a younger brother was born to us."
"Oh?"
A flicker of surprise widened my eyes.
I sifted through everything I knew about Pylon.
Since Pylon had been doing business under my crest—that of the Thirteenth Imperial Prince—from a very early stage, I knew him far better than most ordinary merchants or retainers.
After laying out all the facts in my mind, the realization struck me.
"...I see. His first son?"
"Yes."
"That is auspicious news."
"Thank you very much. Since he is my father's first son born after turning fifty, he dotes on him endlessly—the boy is practically the apple of his eye."
I gave a small nod at Cindy's words.
"Natural enough, I suppose. Do you have something to write with?"
"Eh? Yes, of course. Right over here."
Cindy pointed to a small desk in the corner of the carriage.
The fact that she had come to meet me and brought along deaf-blind attendants meant she anticipated a confidential discussion. It was a given—the bare minimum expectation—that I might need to write down instructions.
Naturally, Cindy had prepared for it, but being asked so abruptly still made her wear a brief look of Already?
Letting it slide, I stepped up to the desk and set pen to the fine paper laid out there.
After drafting a concise statement that left no room for misinterpretation, I handed it to Cindy.
"Keep this."
"This is... a family name?"
"Indeed. I am bestowing a family name upon you as an imperial reward. I left the actual name blank, so you can write in whatever you wish when the time comes."
"Why would you give me something like this...?"
"It would be best if the day never comes when you need it, but keep it just in case."
"..................! T-Thank you so very much!"
For nearly ten seconds, Cindy was at a complete loss, but as the pieces fell into place, realization finally dawned on her.
Still clutching the paper, she dropped nimbly to her knees on the carriage floor and prostrated herself before me.
"Forgive me! I failed to grasp Your Majesty's profound kindness right away."
"Think nothing of it. Anyone who isn't a man would react similarly. And besides..."
"Besides?"
Still prostrate, Cindy raised only her head, looking up at me with a puzzled expression.
"It is proof that you grew up with a good relationship with your parents. You have nothing to apologize for."
"Thank you..."
Pressing the paper to her chest, Cindy murmured with deep emotion.
Even as she slowly stood back up, the moved expression on her face showed no sign of fading, only deepening.
I had granted her a "new family name."
It was not uncommon for an emperor or an imperial prince to allow a subordinate to establish a "new house."
Even for someone who already belonged to a family, having an emperor or imperial prince officially sanction their house was a standard way to add prestige to their name based on merit.
I had simply done the same for Cindy.
Cindy's adoptive father, Pylon Alan, had fathered his first biological son after turning fifty.
In and of itself, that was a blessing.
In the Empire, male succession and primogeniture remained the standard.
Anyone who had attained a certain degree of wealth and standing would naturally wish to pass the proof of their life's work down to a son of their own blood.
That was well and good, but history was rife with countless succession disputes sparked by situations just like this.
The terrifying part of such feuds was that having a child late in life—when one had very little time left—bred an impatience that drove people to extreme measures. More often than not, they resorted to purging anyone who might stand in the child's way.
The spearhead was usually turned against older children or other male relatives within the clan.
In this scenario, Cindy could very well be viewed as an obstacle to the inheritance.
That was why I gave her a "new family name = a new house."
Bearing it would give her a legitimate pretext to bow out of the succession struggle entirely.
After all, claiming that she had to prioritize the "house name bestowed by the Emperor" gave her the perfect justification not to contest the inheritance.
Human nature was a funny thing. What I had given Cindy carried far greater prestige, yet most people would simply breathe a sigh of relief knowing she wouldn't interfere in the family's succession.
In short, it was the best move to guarantee her safety.
"You are incredible, Your Majesty. Until you mentioned it, I hadn't even thought of that."
"As I said, it only proves you share a good bond with your parents. Pay it no mind."
"The fact that you can see through even that is what makes you so incredible!"