The mage nodded carefully. Hinler, who had been rubbing his chin lost in thought, finally spoke.

“It was an excellent choice to keep that fact confidential in the autopsy room. If the possibility of murder had been carelessly raised, the arrow of suspicion would have pointed at Lord Viett.”

“Why would the culprit protect the body with preservation magic?”

Cecilia asked again, removing her heavy glasses.

“Preservation magic protects the body from damage, right? I heard that with this magic cast, the body won’t suffer even a small scratch no matter what’s done to it. Wouldn’t it have been more advantageous for the culprit if the body had been completely mangled when the hotel collapsed?”

“The culprit probably…… wanted the prince’s identity to be clearly revealed and his death to be confirmed.”

The mage answered, watching the Minister who was deep in thought.

“The prince left all his identification items at Lord Viett’s wedding venue. Moreover, no one knew he had taken a room at the Ruimbert Hotel.”

“And the name he used when booking the room was an alias to protect his identity.”

Hinler added as he sat down on a chair with difficulty.

“If the culprit hadn’t cast magic on the body, it would have been badly damaged, and there’s a high possibility the identity would never have been revealed.”

“Are you saying……”

“The culprit wanted the death of the Westenian prince to be widely known.”

“Could it be…… the Eastern forces?”

Cecilia cautiously raised one hand and offered her opinion.

“Perhaps with the aim of breaking the Westenian army’s fighting spirit?”

“If that were the case, the Eastern leader would have already come forward to boast about it. That would help boost the morale of the Eastern army.”

The mage shook his head and sighed.

“To clearly determine the cause of death, a precise autopsy is needed, but the body already has preservation magic cast on it……”

“The preservation magic will naturally dissipate as time passes.”

Hinler, whose expression had strangely hardened, suddenly spoke.

“Even the most powerful preservation magic has an effective period of just over half a year at most.”

True. If preservation magic lasted forever, the bodies of ancient saints would have been preserved intact to this day. Cecilia grabbed her aching head and lamented.

“Good grief. So we have to wait up to half a year for the formal autopsy?”

“Before that, we need to get permission from the king and religious figures for the autopsy.”

“Ugh, religious figures?”

She frowned in disgust, reminded of when her brother died of poisoning.

Cecilia’s parents had denied their son’s death by poisoning and tried desperately to proceed with an autopsy. But they faced fierce opposition from local priests who objected to the desecration of the body on religious grounds, and ultimately had to bury her brother as he was.

With a dark expression, she muttered,

“Will the archbishop and priests really permit an autopsy?”

“The resistance will be very strong.”

The mage answered in a worried tone. Hinler nodded in solemn agreement.

“More than that, I question whether Raus IV will allow a knife to touch his son’s body.”

“Then the prince will be buried before the magic wears off. Well, maybe that’s for the best.”

It might be better than the innocent Viett and Phenelity suffering harm. The attacks against Count Cochrun’s family were already fierce; if murder suspicions arose, even the royal family might no longer be able to protect the count’s family.

“……You must take this secret to the grave.”

Hinler glared at the two of them as he spoke.

“Throwing out unnecessary bait will only amplify suspicions toward Lord Viett and the count’s family. Let’s wait for Minute’s body to quietly rot in the ground.”

Though his words made sense…… Cecilia questioned Hinler’s calm demeanor. He had always seemed rushed, as if being chased by something, but today he appeared unusually peaceful and relaxed.

Well, he had essentially achieved his goal. When the king dies of illness as time passes, and Viett ascends to the throne, Aisad’s long-cherished wish will be fulfilled.

Contrary to her concern that he might feel empty after achieving his goal so abruptly, Hinler was accepting Minute’s death rather stoically.

“Let’s go.”

Hinler turned sharply and walked out of the hospital room. Following him down the corridor, Cecilia glanced out the window and witnessed military personnel loading Minute’s coffin into a vehicle.

Well, he deserved to die anyway, so it’s satisfying.

Cecilia shook off her uneasy feelings and smiled smugly. She raised her middle finger toward the coffin before trailing after Hinler.

* * *

The cathedral area was packed with citizens mourning the prince’s death. Despite controlled roads and barricades on every sidewalk, the memorial procession continued to grow, stretching to the train station several blocks away.

Cecilia barely made it to the cathedral through the chaotic crowd. After removing her disguise and showing her ID to the security guard, she approached her family who had already arrived at the second-floor mourner’s section.

“Cecil.”

Her father, who had been fidgeting nervously, greeted her with fire in his eyes.

“You arrived so quickly!”

“I’m going to smoke a cigarette first.”

“How dare you when your father is speaking! Come here right now!”

Cecilia fled toward the cathedral bell tower. She had no intention of suffering through her father’s nagging before the ceremony.

He would undoubtedly lecture her about remaining loyal to Aisad even though Minute’s death had achieved her goal, insisting that was the only way to preserve the family’s glory.

“Ugh, so tiresome, so tiresome.”

She hid in a corner of the bell tower to smoke, away from people’s gazes. Exhaling smoke through the large arched window, she observed the scene outside the cathedral. The people dressed in black looked like swarming ants, which she found repulsive.

“Why are they so sad about one guy like him dying?”

Cecilia looked pitifully at citizens crying while holding photos of the prince.

Some protesters were waving pickets with phrases opposing Prince Viett’s succession to the throne. She read the phrases on the pickets with a mocking voice.

“The royal family’s troublemaker, is it okay for him to become king? God, save the king! Where do they all learn to write such trashy sentences?”

Looking at the pickets, she began to worry about Prince Viett’s speech. Soon, he would have to deliver a memorial speech in place of the king, who was bedridden from shock.

His speech would echo through loudspeakers all the way outside the cathedral. She wondered if Viett could withstand such pressure.

“Ah, why should I care? I’m not his fiancée or anything anymore.”

Cecilia grumbled as she stubbed out her cigarette butt on the windowsill.

“Look! Princess Rosemary and Crown Princess Amelia have arrived!”

Just then, a car carrying Amelia and Princess Rosemary arrived in front of the cathedral.

Princess Rosemary, who stepped out of the car first, looked disoriented, having returned to the country not long ago. Her small face was pale and haggard.

“Princess! Stay strong!”

“Please wave to us just once!”

“Hang in there, Princess!”

Citizens sent praise and encouragement to Rosemary, whose eyes were red. Next, Amelia in black attire stepped out of the car.

“Lady Amelia! Look over here!”

“You are Westenia’s true crown princess! Not that psycho!”

People greeted Amelia, who emerged from the car with a beautiful face, with encouragement and affectionate greetings. Despite the solemnity required for a funeral, the excited citizens created an atmosphere as boisterous as a festival.

“Cheer up! God will save you!”

Cecilia stared at Amelia, who entered the cathedral amid tremendous encouragement.

“What’s there to cheer up about? That woman is probably rejoicing inside because her bastard husband is dead.”

She lit a new cigarette while sympathizing with Amelia. Even though he was a husband she hated, she had to pretend to be sad in front of the public because of people’s eyes. That woman’s life is truly harsh.

“Even a circus clown would have it better than that.”

Cecilia clicked her tongue and looked around the increasingly crowded cathedral surroundings. Journalists with cameras were visible among the mourning procession. They were raising their cameras high, defying police restraints.

Cecilia realized the journalists were eagerly waiting for the Little Lady. The same would be true for the citizens.

How many of these people came here to sincerely mourn the prince’s death?

More likely, most came in droves like clouds to see the Little Lady in person.

“Pepe. I hope some of your followers are among them……”

Cecilia sighed as she looked around at the hostile protesters. However, fans of the novel  were sporadically visible. They formed small groups holding pickets supporting Phenelity.

Occasionally, young children enthusiastically waving wooden boards with Phenelity’s name could be seen. A subtle tension between Phenelity’s followers and the protesters was palpable even from a distance.

A complex situation with people of various purposes and desires mixed in one place. Cecilia clicked her tongue, thinking she was witnessing all sorts of strange scenes thanks to Minute.