I Start with a Bad Hand!

“Getting the document certified by the priest took a bit longer,” Irene explained. This document needed divine protection to prevent anyone from tampering with or destroying it, so it could only be burned in the sacred flames of the temple. Her expression was as usual, giving no hint about the document’s contents. Her voice was calm and collected, but it sent a thrill down my spine.

‘If this result is correct, it might solve Dietrich’s third lingering regret.’

At that moment, I was fairly certain. This issue had to be one of Dietrich’s remaining regrets. Although I harbored some minor doubts, my certainty overwhelmingly outweighed them.

‘And this is the beginning of everything.’

If Dietrich hadn’t been driven out, none of this would have started. Holding the envelope, I felt the anticipation that perhaps we could finally address the root of Dietrich’s misfortune. The envelope was light and thin, yet it carried the weight of a person’s life.

“What are you waiting for? Open it already!” Agnes’s urgency snapped me out of my thoughts. However, I felt that this moment needed to be more private. It wasn’t about not wanting to show the aftermath of resolving a regret, which often involved blood coughing, to the academy students. Rather, I sensed that this moment would stay with me, different from the others. I moistened my dry lips and spoke up.

“Could we move to my dorm?”

We walked the short distance in silence. Once we arrived at my dorm, settled into our places, I finally took a proper look at the envelope. Sealed with the Horatius family crest, Irene had said nothing about the results within.

“It’s best you see it for yourself.”

I thought I was prepared for any outcome, but it seemed I was hoping for more than I realized. My heart beat lightly as I clumsily opened the envelope with the paper knife Agnes handed me. Inside, the awaited result was written in a succinct sentence that made all the waiting seem trivial.

「As a follower of the deity Parkias, it is confirmed that the rightful owner of the body was present at the time the document was written.」

I stared at the document, unable to say anything. Agnes, who had been waiting quietly, finally couldn’t resist and peeked at the contents. After a brief silence, she let out a high-pitched scream like a startled beast and hugged me tightly. Until then, I was overwhelmed by a single emotion, leaving me speechless.

Why don’t I feel anything? I was perplexed.

It was only natural that I felt detached. I couldn’t deny that I had been quite nervous about the outcome. But the result itself—that the rightful owner of this body was originally born into the ducal house—was, to put it bluntly, someone else’s business. Frankly, even if I found out my ancestors were not peasants but noblemen, it wouldn’t affect me much.

“Hey, why aren’t you saying anything! Wow, wow! Senior, is this really true?”

However, the excessive calmness, the complete lack of agitation in Dietrich’s body, was a different matter. This was unlike the previous times when I had expelled the black orbs or had a vague sense of Dietrich’s lingering regrets. My heart, which might have leapt with surprise, was unusually serene, as if someone was forcibly calming it.

“I hope this leads you to a better future,” Irene said, thinking my silence was due to being overwhelmed with emotion. She hugged me lightly and patted my shoulder. Agnes was screaming in delight with eyes wide open, and even Irene had a satisfied smile. Yet, I felt nothing from this body.

My stunned reaction to all the excitement around me was so subdued that I couldn’t think of anything else.

‘Why?’

But in the original story, Dietrich…

“You took everything from me.”

That’s what Dietrich said when he attacked Roxanne. Even though much of the original story had become blurry, I could never forget this part. It was the part I was determined to remember, no matter what. How could I forget the moment before Dietrich threw herself off the clock tower?

‘If he said that, she must have had regrets.’

So why on earth…

I stood alone quietly amidst the commotion.

***

“Is that true?”

“…Yes. I found evidence that Dietrich is the Princess of Elexion.”

Icarus received the document I handed him, and stood still for a long time, reading its contents. His face, unable to look away from that short sentence for so long, had an indescribable expression, as if he was hoping for something.

“But why do you look like that?”

“…What?”

“Why are you so stiff? If this is true, isn’t it good for you too?”

Feeling as if he had returned the question I was going to ask, I relaxed my stiff lips and replied to him.

“What good is it for me?”

There’s nothing beneficial to me except that Dietrich would be happy about this fact. Then Icarus neatly put the paper back into the envelope and pressed my furrowed brow with his thumb.

Normally, I would have easily avoided his hand, but this time I didn’t. My nerves were already frayed, and perhaps I hoped that his touch might simplify all these problems a little.

“She might not be happy, but it will still be good.”

“…What’s the difference?”

At my words, Icarus closed his mouth as if he couldn’t continue. I let out a breath that was somewhere between a sigh and a laugh.

“You’re lucky. At least you’ve actually met Dietrich.”

Since you know her better than I do, I’ll trust your words. Feeling a bit weary, I leaned back in my chair, and Icarus, who had been tapping the documents, spoke with a slightly unsure face.

“I… don’t know much about that Dietrich either. But since you came here and received this result, at least you’ve become clear about yourself. Because you couldn’t know, you were excluded from all these events even though you were the main person involved.”

After a brief pause to choose his words, Icarus carefully continued.

“Of course, even if it’s too late to go back now… she might not be happy, but… I think it still holds meaning.”

Will it really? At his words, I too hoped that this result, even if it didn’t make Dietrich happy, wouldn’t be meaningless. At the same time, I wanted to ask the one question that had been running through my mind ever since I came to the dormitory and met Dietrich.

‘Why?’

Why does it seem like nothing matters? The question, for which no one could provide an answer, echoed noisily in my mind.

Unable to sleep, I eventually stood before the clock tower at the still-cold dawn of spring, holding a bottle of wine I had secretly brought back from Heylem. It looked a bit unseemly, but I poured the wine into a glass and then scattered it around the clock tower. It was a bit distressing that this was the only place where I could talk to a child who disappeared from this world without even a grave.

“Actually, I wanted to show this to you first.”

Even knowing there was no one to answer, I resolutely began to speak.

“I don’t know if this is what you wanted, but still…”

I took out the prepared matches from my pocket and set fire to the document Irene had given me. It was customary for commoners to observe rituals more flamboyantly.

The burning document didn’t even reach the sky before falling to the ground. Maybe that was for the best. Since the gods of this world dwell below, I hoped this ash would carry my wish to you.

“I don’t know how it’s done here, so I’m doing it my way. I hope the god of this place will deliver it to you, considering my sincerity.”

The document, which had turned to ashes in the fire, regained its original form as if it had never burned. They said it couldn’t be burned except in the priest’s brazier. So I guess I can’t deliver this to you my way either.

I crouched down toward the restored paper. Knowing it was merely an act of self-satisfaction, I murmured.

“If this isn’t your lingering attachment… is there something else that troubled you?”

In the original story, Dietrich had always hovered around Roxanne. The first time Dietrich ever harmed Roxanne was that moment. If Dietrich, consumed by anger, had lashed out in such rage, it was only natural to think that her remaining regret was either failing to prove she was a legitimate child or uncovering that truth.

If so, how deep and lingering could that regret be?

Trying not to let out a sigh that no one could hear, I couldn’t bring myself to rise from that spot for a long time.