Epilogue
When I returned to the royal capital, the very first thought I had was:
What the heck is this? So many people had gathered that I was shocked.
Well, I had actually given some serious thought to what I would say in my speech after returning home. From midway, though, just remembering the Empire made my blood boil and I ended up saying some pretty extreme things.
In reality, reconciliation with the central nations is impossible. The only way to avoid conflict would be for Arland to kneel.
But Arland, as a matter of principle, cannot do that. To kneel to the central nations would mean abandoning the other races. That would shatter our unity at home and lead us down the path of ruin.
No matter the country, nothing is more fragile than one that is divided from within. Arland’s strength would vanish, leaving us only to be destroyed by the central nations or trampled by monsters.
That is why I must steel myself. I must be prepared to ignite a great war in this world.
It’ll be fine. I am not alone anymore. If I were alone, the only choice would be to burn everything to ash, but with Arland as my ally, there is no need to scorch the continent. Of course, the nations that do come to invade will receive fitting retribution.
The times ahead will be harsher than ever. But the Empire cannot avoid internal strife. Even if they see Arland as a threat, geography makes it impossible for them to invade us—for now.
Which means the Central Alliance’s next move will be to intervene in the Empire. Once they calm the Empire’s chaos, they will come for Arland.
“But that’s naïve. Throughout history, civil wars almost never end quickly. Without miraculous factors, an early resolution is impossible.”
If many miraculous factors aligned, perhaps the Empire could regain cohesion. But the odds are far too low.
Wreaking havoc inside the Empire made it clear to me—their foundations are fragile. The Granzur Empire became the largest nation on the continent by subjugating or annexing countless smaller states, but within it fester many discontented elements.
As long as the Empire stood strong, those groups may have been harmless.
But the Empire is in turmoil. Already, the First Prince has been assassinated by the Second.
Right after I returned home, the First Prince declared he would ascend as Emperor. The Second Prince had been his lapdog up until then, but greed must have gotten to him. Trusted and off-guard, the First Prince was swiftly assassinated, and the Second Prince claimed the throne.
Yet the Emperor had many children. Usurpation invites more usurpation. No doubt the royals will now fight one another for the throne, each backed by their noble supporters.
After all, the prince who had long been named Crown Prince was already executed. The late Emperor could not—or rather, would not—allow him to succeed. He must have known this chaos was coming.
Now then, why am I thinking about such bloody matters?
The answer is simple: my mother went into labor.
It had been troublingly late, but no matter how many times she was examined, she was perfectly healthy and barely even had morning sickness.
Naturally, every member of the royal family, myself included, fell into a complete panic. Then all of us were kicked out of the room.
“Alice, what’s that dangerous-looking equipment?”
“In case surgery becomes necessary. If the baby is too big, we’ll have to perform a cesarean section.”
My father was too panicked to be useful—he was out in the garden ripping trees out of the ground with his bare hands. So it fell to me to make preparations, just in case.
In my previous life I was well-versed not only in science but also in medicine. With the addition of magic—something Earth lacked—it was at least possible. Not that I want to do it.
Truth is, I never actually performed surgery before. Dissections, sure—those I did plenty of, to understand human anatomy for clone production. But I wasn’t a practicing doctor. So, of course, the best outcome is a safe natural birth. Surgery would only ever be a last resort.
Naturally, I’d taken other precautions. The royal castle was equipped with the most advanced medical devices this world could offer, and I had passed on my knowledge of childbirth to the palace physicians.
They were professionals, and though medicine here isn’t yet a formal science, they had a wealth of experiential knowledge. They were highly cooperative, eager to test their practices against new information, adopting what was right and discarding what wasn’t.
First, I taught them the concept of sterilization. The birth would take place in an operating room—one I had built as soon as I learned of my mother’s pregnancy. Its cleanliness was perfect.
But in the end, all our worries were for nothing. My mother had an astonishingly quick and easy labor. True labor began, and the baby came swiftly.
“It’s born!?”
Hearing the news, my father sprinted toward us at incredible speed—only for me to block his way with arms outstretched.
“Alicetia!”
“Father, you need to take a bath first.”
“Why!?”
“Because you’re dirty. If you don’t clean yourself, you could endanger Mother’s and the baby’s health. If you try to force your way through…”
I gripped my staff, and my father bolted for the bath at once. He must have realized I absolutely would not allow him to meet Mother in that filthy state.
By Arland’s custom, the first family member to see the newborn—aside from physicians—is the father, the head of the household.
So we waited outside the operating room.
“It’s a girl. Both mother and child are healthy.”
The palace physician announced with relief.
“Her temperature and pulse?”
“Based on the regular examinations we performed under the princess’s guidance, there should be no issues.”
I collapsed into a chair, utterly exhausted.
“Uoooooooohhh!!”
Meanwhile, my brother spun around in joy like he was dancing. I, on the other hand, had been so worried for Mother and the baby that all strength drained from me. If it had been delayed even an hour longer, I might have ordered the air force to bomb the Empire.
So, a little sister. As her elder sister, I must grow into someone worthy. To show her my dignity, maybe I should exterminate every dragon in the land… no, too scary. Better to tame them into something like the doggies and place them under Helios. An elder sister who commands dragons for her little sister’s sake… hmm, not bad.
I could also station captured dragons in the capital to bolster defenses. I’d need to study whether domestication is possible too.
If dragons can be domesticated, they’d be invaluable. Their scales and fangs regenerate annually, and Helios said they treat shed ones as trash anyway.
Yes, monster taming should be a research subject going forward. I’ll start with Helios, who hasn’t had a chance to shine yet.
Well, that’s for later. Father returned with his hair still dripping wet. I handed him a towel, and he dried off as he entered the operating room. Seconds later, a joyous cry rang out.
“Alice, it’s fine now!”
“I can’t wait any longer either.”
My brother and I entered as well.
“Fweeeh!”
“Oh, she’s crying.”
“Your face is just too scary.”
Father was holding the tiny baby, who was wailing loudly.
“Alicetia didn’t cry at all.”
“Have you forgotten how Gil bawled when he was born?”
Well… Father does have a rather stern face. Not exactly child-friendly. Me? I was born a lady, after all. Besides, back in my previous life, one of Dad’s acquaintances had a real mafia face—and he was a congressman.
But the moment I saw the newborn, a shock went through my body.
“S-so cute…!”
“She’ll grow up to be beautiful, like Mother.”
Her face resembled Mother’s quite a lot. I was influenced by my past life, but I’d inherited some features from my current parents too.
The crying baby was handed to Mother, who soothed her instantly and skillfully. Soon, the baby drifted to sleep.
“She’s adorable.”
“Don’t poke her too much, or she’ll wake up. You were quiet as a baby, but Gil would cry and cry if he was disturbed.”
“Mother! This isn’t the time to bring up the past. Tell us her name instead.”
“Yes, Sylvia and I chose a fine name. Lilliana.”
“Lilliana. I think it’s a wonderful name.”
“Her nickname will be Lily.”
My little sister, sleeping soundly, had Father’s blond hair and the same green eyes as mine.
As I gently stroked her, a strange sense of peace filled me. I glanced sideways—Father and Brother were thinking the same. The three of us nodded together.
“““First we have to shut the nobles up before they start demanding her hand in marriage.”””
“… It’s way too early for that.”
Mother sighed and pressed her hand to her forehead.
What do you think about this chapter?
