After receiving a warm welcome from the Mistral clan, we dispatched several articles for domestic propaganda.
By now, the public impression was that the Mistral clan had firmly joined the Pro-Emperor Faction.
Actually, it wasn't just them—there wasn't a single faction left that would dare openly oppose Wifey.
After all, she was terrifyingly good at war.
Of course, there were plenty of tactical critiques and arguments regarding the treatment of the Proone, but the results spoke for themselves.
Furthermore, our stance was always: "If you think you can do it better than us, please, be our guest."
I mean, seriously! We were still at an age where we should have just been following some superior’s orders! Honestly!
I was practically begging for one. Please, give me a competent boss! Someone talented!
I—no, all of us—wanted to escape the weight of responsibility.
Give us a superior who will commit hara-kiri in our place right now!
...That said, Wifey's Empire was actually a fairly open society, at least enough for people to raise dissenting voices.
She simply silenced any commentary bordering on lese-majesty through sheer results and competence.
Wifey was confident; for better or worse, she didn't give a damn about the opinions of people she didn't know.
In short, she ignored the world's irresponsible remarks, taking the stance of, "If you've got a problem, come say it to my face."
By the way, any journalist who actually came to complain was immediately and forcibly drafted as a Civil Official and saddled with a workload that far exceeded their capacity.
We were short on Civil Officials, after all.
If they could talk that big, surely they could handle the work.
They got paid overtime, too.
Besides, the Fairies had judged that their suggestions were actually feasible, so they were being made to implement them personally.
Lately, they’d been muttering things like "Just kill me... kill me..." but as long as they could still complain, they were fine.
When things were truly dire, the emotions were the first thing to vanish.
This system seemed to be working out for the best.
Today, we were heading to a city a short distance from Planet Mistral to meet Tatiana’s mother.
Unlike the Imperial Capital, where the urban sprawl continued forever, the cities here were separated by vast distances.
Fortunately, Marma-kun had an excellent guardian—an old man who was a Duke-type from a military faction and a veteran himself.
He had seen to it that the roads were properly maintained. (Though the railway hadn't been completed in time.)
Because of that, we headed out in a standard vehicle... or rather, a bus.
There was no way we were going to prepare a specialized Imperial vehicle for this.
In fact, Wifey was the type who didn't mind riding in military vehicles at all.
She spent the whole bus ride singing her heart out with the karaoke set.
Seeing her act like this—a product of being raised among middle-aged soldiers—made me shed a little tear.
Tatiana’s mother had initially been protected by a guardian in a different location.
However, because Tatiana had become a Saint of another world, her mother was now someone who required constant, heavy protection.
It couldn't be helped. Strange religious groups had started calling her the "Holy Mother" and were targeting her.
The justification was too weak to hide her in the Inner Palace, yet there was no freedom to be found in military or police facilities.
The Kamishiro Main House would have been fine, but their Knights were understaffed and their security was a bit lax, so she was sent to House Mistral instead.
As long as they could rebuild, they had an excellent order of Knights and a large Lord Army.
And so, it was decided that Tatiana’s mother and younger siblings would be sheltered here.
We arrived at Poedo City, where they were staying.
Soldiers poured out of the armored vehicle leading our convoy to secure the area.
Only then did we step out.
In the domestic reports, we had adopted a "no-guard strategy" regarding the information about Tatiana’s birth, disclosing everything.
She herself had said, "It’s a pain to hide it,ッス," so that’s the path we took.
Basically, Jester's Intuition was given top priority.
The fact that I was given such vast diplomatic authority to do as I pleased was also due to the "Jester-first" policy.
It was based on the belief that things wouldn't turn out for the worse if we followed our gut.
Thus, the public knew Tatiana was born in the slums, raised in the military, and was a clone. She didn't hide it.
She had already achieved enough merit to silence any idiots who would find fault with her lineage or birth.
It was a simple matter of "Shut up, you scum," and that was that.
We—me, Tatiana, and the usual gang—took a car to the apartment building where Tatiana’s family was being sheltered.
"Ah—... I'm nervous,ッス."
When we stepped into the lobby, Tatiana’s mother and younger siblings were there to greet us.
The Lord Army was providing hardcore security.
They all saluted in unison.
As expected of Duke House Mistral. My own family home couldn't manage this level of discipline.
I heard that only personnel related to the Lord Army and Tatiana’s family lived in this entire building.
"Onee-chan!"
The two younger siblings lunged at Tatiana and hugged her.
"O-Oh, I'm home?"
The question mark in her voice likely stemmed from her hesitation—the feeling of I'm a clone, is "I'm home" even the right thing to say?
I didn't have an answer for her either.
Then, the mother approached.
She was young!
Wait a minute! How old was she when she had Tatiana?!
She looked incredibly young.
"Tatiana~. Mama’s getting remarried!"
"O-Oh. Which Yakuza is it this time?"
Tatiana was blunt.
It was a cold response that offered a glimpse into the hellish life the previous Tatiana must have endured.
"You're wrong this time~. Darling, come here~."
A gorilla-like macho man from the Lord Army stepped forward. He looked to be in his thirties.
"Nice to meet you! Duke House Mistral Army First Lieutenant! I am Takeshi Onizuka!!!"
He gave a muscle-bound salute.
"Ah, yes. Thank you for the formal greeting. I am Warrant Officer Tatiana of the Imperial Space Marines."
She saluted back, perfectly sharp.
I had trained her strictly for a reason. She could easily pass as a commissioned officer.
Yeah, I kind of got it now. Tatiana’s mother was the type who just liked anyone who looked strong.
By the way, Tatiana’s rank was somewhat flexible. While she was technically a Warrant Officer, the military didn't want to let her go, so they already had a spot reserved for her as a Field-grade Officer.
She had been told she could call herself a Major if she wanted.
However, Tatiana hated the idea from the bottom of her heart, so she stuck with Warrant Officer.
"When I look at Big Brother Leo... I really feel like I don't want to be promoted. Ever."
Isn't that a bit cruel?!
Setting that aside, it seemed Tatiana and Onizuka-san sensed a kinship as fellow soldiers.
It wasn't telepathy, but that unspoken understanding common among people in the same trade—the ability to recognize someone else's hardships just by how they moved.
"To give such a beautiful salute at such a young age... You must have been through a great deal of hardship."
"I was... handled by Brigadier General Leo."
Ah, she went and phrased it in a way that could be horribly misunderstood.
Onizuka-san fixed his gaze on me.
No, no. Not in that sense!
"B-Brigadier General, sir... I would like to have a word with you later."
"It's a misunderstanding!"
He continued to glare at me.
Watching this, Melissa was desperately trying to keep from bursting into laughter.
When I looked closer, even Claire and Wifey were suppressing their giggles.
Why did everything always end up as a punchline? Because we were Jesters.
In any case, the worries Tatiana had been carrying seemed to vanish in an instant.
She had reached a state of mind where she just didn't care anymore.
It appeared Onizuka-san was a decent, sensible man. We would leave him to make Tatiana’s family happy.
Though, of course, we’d be keeping a very close eye on him.