Felix hadn't managed to get any information out of Hayashi Maki, so all he could do was keep that sweet smile and try to bluff his way through.
Hayashi Maki, for his part, didn't care much what this cross-dressing catboy thought of him.
He'd always steered clear of pretty-boy guys in skirts.
Sure, Felix Argyle was known in this world as the "Blue" healer, but his healing didn't hold a candle to Aqua's.
So Felix wasn't exactly a must-have asset, and Hayashi Maki had no reason to be especially warm.
He wasn't a beautiful girl; Hayashi Maki had zero interest.
Hayashi Maki's presence drew the curiosity of the rest of the knight order, but none of them spoke to him. They just held their positions silently in the ranks, posing like proper knights.
After a while, the herald's voice rang in from outside the hall.
"Priscilla Barielle-sama, arriving!"
At the announcement, Priscilla swept in, striding arrogantly yet gracefully down the luxurious carpet in her crimson gown, and took her place at the head alongside Emilia and the other candidates, in front of the knights.
Her one-armed, helmeted retainer, Aldebaran, gave a friendly wave with his remaining arm and moved to stand beside Hayashi Maki.
"Yo, kid, we meet again. To be honest, thanks to you, my princess hasn't stopped throwing tantrums. My workload's doubled."
"That so? Sounds like a good thing," Hayashi Maki answered with a grin.
"Huh? That counts as good?" Al scratched his head, baffled.
"Of course it does. It means Priscilla-sama already remembers me. I'll take that as an honor."
Just then, Priscilla glanced back; Hayashi Maki met her gaze without flinching and even tossed her a wink.
Priscilla lifted her pale chin with a snort and turned away, saying nothing. Her gaze slid over to the girl beside her—Emilia—and began to size her up from head to toe.
Well, this woman was certainly cute.
Shame she was a rival.
Not that Priscilla thought she could possibly lose.
Emilia felt that gaze and instantly stiffened.
She even started wondering whether something was off with her appearance.
But Priscilla never spoke. With rivals, her first move was always to look down from a position of superiority—that was how you emphasized your own nobility and rattled them at the same time.
Priscilla's arrival officially marked the beginning of the Royal Selection.
One of the knights standing beneath the Council of Sages stepped forward—a tall, muscular man with green hair and a face full of scars.
He bowed to the sages seated above and then turned to address the hall.
"Now that all four royal candidates are here, forgive my impertinence, but I, Marcus, Captain of the Royal Guard, will preside over this Royal Selection council."
"The matter began roughly one year ago, when His Majesty the King and all members of the royal family perished in an epidemic…"
"To answer this, in accordance with the prophecy of the Dragon carved upon the Dragon Stone, we must search for the priestesses chosen by the Dragonstone, and from among them select the one most worthy to renew the covenant with the Dragon and become the new monarch…"
Captain Marcus was carefully laying out the situation when Anastasia suddenly cut in.
"Captain-sir, we get you're trying to explain things thorough and proper, but over in Kararagi we've got a saying—time is money, y'know."
"We're all busy folk. Don't have time to sit here listening to what everyone already knows. Instead of repeating common knowledge, wouldn't it be better to go straight to the reason we were all summoned here?"
When she finished, Crusch Karsten gave a serious nod and backed her up.
"I agree. I find her point quite reasonable."
At that, Marcus could only stare, speechless.
"Crusch-sama," he said at last, "as the head of House Karsten, how can you say such a thing?"
Lugnica was a noble-ruled, noble-supremacist kingdom, and House Karsten was nobility among nobles, the foremost ducal house just beneath the royal family.
As nobles of that level, they were supposed to uphold formal procedure, to set an example for the rest of the aristocracy.
So to Marcus, Crusch openly supporting Anastasia's attempt to skip the agenda and ignore procedure was just wrong.
But Crusch didn't flinch under the Captain's criticism. Calmly, she replied:
"While respecting protocol is important, it's no less true that our time is limited. I still believe the most efficient course is to explain clearly, as soon as possible, why we've all been gathered here."
"And frankly, I already have a fair idea what this is about."
Her composed answer drew the attention of the knights standing behind; Felix Argyle's eyes in particular were practically shaped like little hearts—he looked about ready to swoon.
It was obvious his heart was entirely in Crusch Karsten's hands by now.
Who wouldn't want their liege to exude a sovereign's bearing and handle every challenge with that kind of poise?
After Crusch spoke, the white-bearded elder at the head of the sages peered at her in surprise.
"Oh? Crusch Karsten-sama, you already understand the purpose of this meeting?"
"Of course, Miklotov-sama," Crusch said confidently, calling the elder by name.
The sharp-eyed military beauty closed her eyes, the corner of her lips lifting slightly. When she opened them again, she wore an utterly assured smile, the look of someone certain of victory.
"We're here to hold a banquet, aren't we?"
"Heh. Even though we're rivals, share a table and a drink, and you'll naturally come to see each other's character."
Her confident proclamation left the white-bearded elder nonplussed.
Miklotov shook his head. "No, you're mistaken. There will be no banquet."
Crusch's smile slipped, and she turned a look of quiet reproach on the one who'd given her the tip.
"Felix, that's not what you told me."
Felix Argyle just laughed and fluttered a hand. "You're so mean, Crusch-sama~. I only said there might be a banquet, nya. I never said there definitely would be."
In other words, she'd jumped to that conclusion herself.
A little embarrassed, Crusch drew a steadying breath and bowed again to the sages.
"My apologies. I was mistaken. I retract my previous words."
She'd really thought they were here to enjoy a party.
Crusch Karsten possessed the "Wind Reading," which let her sense people's emotions through the winds that swirled around them as they spoke.
In essence, she had a natural lie-detector built into her perception.
By conversing with the other candidates while reading the "wind" around them, she could pull more than a little information from their reactions.