Emilia straightened.
"I have nothing to do with the Witch."
A familiar pain flickered behind her eyes.
Small.
Brief.
But there.
The same look I'd seen before.
The same wound everyone kept reopening.
Al sighed heavily.
"Princess. Maybe don't make enemies every five minutes."
Priscilla ignored him.
Naturally.
Miklotov finally intervened before someone started a diplomatic incident.
"Have you all calmed down?"
His voice rolled through the chamber like distant thunder.
Instantly, the room quieted.
Authority.
The genuine kind.
Not the fake corporate variety.
"Bring forth the candidates."
[ ─── ❖ ─── ─── ❖ ─── ─── ❖ ─── ─── ❖ ─── ]
The candidate presentations began.
Priscilla stepped forward first.
"The Selection itself is meaningless. I alone am fit to rule. The rest of you need only kneel."
And somehow she's still not the craziest person in this room.
Crusch followed.
Calm.
Confident.
Absolutely fearless.
"When I become ruler, I will sever the kingdom's reliance on the Divine Dragon."
The room froze.
There it is.
The nuclear option.
Several older nobles visibly stiffened.
Because while Priscilla's declaration was arrogance...
Crusch's was policy.
Actual policy.
The kind that changed history.
Anastasia stepped forward next.
Smiling pleasantly.
Which was terrifying.
"I'm greedy. Business success isn't enough. I want a nation as well."
Translation: she's attempting a hostile corporate takeover of an entire country.
Then came Emilia.
No tricks.
No manipulation.
No grand ambition.
Just honesty.
"My wish is simple. I want a kingdom where everyone is treated fairly."
The room fell quiet.
And for a moment...
Even the cynics listened.
Finally, Felt's turn arrived.
She looked like she wanted to be literally anywhere else.
Which was fair.
Because unlike everyone else here...
Felt hadn't spent years preparing to become ruler.
She'd spent years trying to survive.
"Don't look at me," she said immediately. "I never agreed to any of this."
Honestly? That's probably the most relatable campaign platform here.
The presentations ended.
For a brief moment, the chamber settled.
Then reality remembered it was a Royal Selection.
The temperature shifted.
The atmosphere tightened.
The old fears surfaced.
The old prejudices.
The old hatred.
And then—
Bordeaux opened his mouth.
There it is.
"The silver-haired half-elf..."
His voice echoed throughout the chamber.
"The very appearance of the Jealous Witch spoken of in legend."
Murmurs spread immediately.
Several nobles nodded.
Others looked uncomfortable.
Emilia remained perfectly still.
But I noticed it.
The tension in her shoulders.
The hesitation in her eyes.
The familiar hurt.
"...A dreadful existence."
The room grew quiet.
Very quiet.
Canonically this was where Subaru exploded.
Emotion.
Anger.
Pride.
A complete tactical disaster.
Fortunately, I possess the survival instincts of a retail worker.
I raised one hand.
Politely.
"Excuse me."
The room paused.
Bordeaux frowned.
"What?"
I smiled.
The customer-service smile.
The smile that had survived unreasonable managers.
Impossible customers.
And Black Friday.
"Just a quick point of clarification for the record."
The old noble looked immediately suspicious.
"Who are you?"
"Lady Emilia's strategist."
Several members of the Council exchanged glances.
I continued before anyone could stop me.
"I am merely attempting to understand your position."
Bordeaux crossed his arms.
"Then speak."
I nodded.
"Certainly."
I pointed toward Emilia's insignia.
"The Dragon Insignia currently identifying Lady Emilia as a Royal Candidate."
The room's attention shifted.
"That insignia represents the will of the Divine Dragon Volcanica, correct?"
A different voice answered.
Miklotov.
"...That is correct."
I nodded again.
Excellent.
Public confirmation acquired.
"Wonderful."
I clasped my hands together.
"Then I am confused."
Bordeaux's eye twitched.
"Confused?"
"Terribly."
I looked genuinely concerned.
Years of avoiding workplace arguments had prepared me for this exact moment.
"If the Divine Dragon himself examined Lady Emilia and determined she was worthy of participating in the Selection..."
I paused.
Then tilted my head.
"...but you are saying her very existence is unacceptable..."
Silence spread.
Slowly.
Dangerously.
"...then are you suggesting the Divine Dragon made a mistake?"
Nothing.
Nobody spoke.
Not a single sound.
Direct hit.
Bordeaux's face froze.
Several nobles suddenly found the floor fascinating.
Others looked horrified.
I continued.
Calmly.
Politely.
Relentlessly.
"Because if the Dragon's judgment can be ignored whenever it becomes inconvenient..."
I gestured vaguely.
"...then perhaps the Covenant itself is optional."
Several council members immediately stiffened.
Good.
Very good.
"If, however, the Dragon's will remains absolute..."
I smiled pleasantly.
"...then publicly insulting one of his chosen candidates seems remarkably close to questioning divine judgment."
Dead silence.
The oppressive kind.
The kind where everyone waits for someone else to speak first.
Nobody volunteered.
Because there was no safe answer.
Agree with Bordeaux?
Question the Dragon.
Agree with the Dragon?
Admit Emilia had every right to stand there.
Checkmate.
The political version.
Across the chamber, I noticed Julius staring at me.
Not annoyed.
Not offended.
Evaluating.
Nearby, Reinhard looked oddly impressed.
Crusch's eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
Anastasia suddenly appeared interested in purchasing my soul.
Priscilla looked amused.
Which somehow felt more dangerous than hostility.
And Roswaal—
Roswaal was smiling.
Oh no.
That was never a good sign.
Miklotov finally cleared his throat.
A loud, deliberate sound.
"The strategist raises a valid point."
Several nobles immediately stopped making eye contact with Bordeaux.
Like rats abandoning a sinking ship.
Bordeaux's expression darkened.
But he couldn't argue.
Not without challenging the Dragon directly.
And he knew it.
The old man slowly sat back down.
Defeated.
Politically.
Publicly.
Completely.
Beside me, Emilia blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then looked at me.
"...You planned that."
I kept my face perfectly serious.
"No."
"You absolutely planned that."
"Perhaps fate planned it."
"Subaru."
"Yes?"
"That was you."
I considered my options.
Then nodded.
"Fine."
A tiny smile appeared on her face.