Had it been before her experience with Ailey at the prestigious school, Debbie might have welcomed Ashley’s gesture of reconciliation. It was almost laughable to call it reconciliation when they had never fought in the first place.

She should have been happy that someone who disliked her was now offering friendship, yet something felt uncomfortable.

Kindness always came with a price. Trusting someone simply because they were being nice might lead to getting hurt again, just like what happened with Ailey. The fear of being wounded made her reluctant to let anyone get close.

She hadn’t even known about the long-serving assistant when she was hired. This was entirely Gray’s problem to deal with, not something Debbie should have to pay for. “Sigh. Have I caught the disease of suspecting everyone?” she wondered, exhaling deeply.

Having received coffee, she felt she should repay the kindness somehow, though keeping track of such debts didn’t sit well with her. She wanted to buy snacks to share but still couldn’t find her wallet.

Despite searching everywhere, it seemed she must have dropped it at the president’s hotel. She didn’t want to go back there just to retrieve it. Fortunately, she had deposited most of her money in the bank and had withdrawn enough for living expenses from a nearby branch, but the situation still left her feeling uneasy.

‘I want to quit,’ she thought. ‘I wish the president would see my column, blow up in anger, and fire me. Then I wouldn’t have to pay the contract penalty fee.’

She had expected a severe scolding, but the manuscript had safely passed through to the printing house. Gray’s silence on the matter also made her anxious. He probably approved it because she hadn’t explicitly stated it was about the president, so he couldn’t grasp the content properly.

When the president checked the column, the publishing house would surely be turned upside down like a bomb had dropped.

“Debbie, what are you doing? Aren’t you getting ready to leave?” Team Leader Louis spoke up from the adjacent desk.

“What?”

Startled from her slouched position, Debbie straightened her back.

“Did you forget? We’re going to cover the parade. Did you think you could just relax because the deadline is over? When one deadline ends, another begins.”

“Ah…”

“What do you mean ‘ah’? Why are you so absent-minded? Quickly prepare the equipment for photography assistance and gather materials for participant interviews. The coverage area is wide, so you need to move efficiently.”

Debbie rose slowly, like a cow being led to slaughter. Ashley had already packed her things and was running toward the art team.

* * *

People often longed for the reign of the late emperor. During that era of active conquest wars, public sentiment was unified, and goods flowing in from conquered territories stimulated the economy.

But after the emperor’s passing, the period of prosperity ended, and continuous recession followed. Jobs disappeared first, followed by welfare benefits. To support the already bloated national finances, citizen taxes increased while corporate taxes decreased under industrial promotion policies.

As a result, workers went on strike daily, and the government wielded its authority. People cursed the government for implementing policies that blatantly favored the privileged classes.

The government deflected blame toward the Dowager Empress who served as regent, avoiding responsibility themselves. However, the influence of Marquis Clarence’s family, the Dowager Empress’s relatives, was overwhelmingly powerful.

No one dared point fingers at the Dowager Empress, for those who did would be taken away without a trace, never to see the light of day again.

“With the country in this state, why hold such vulgar festivals?” someone grumbled.

The parade procession crossed the main avenue downtown. Fireworks shot high into the sky, bursting into spectacular illusions. Matching the parade’s theme, imaginary creatures like elephants and phoenixes adorned the sky.

The illusions, transformed into symbols of ancient emperors recorded in history, gradually faded and disappeared with the wind. Then another firework would burst forth, painting the sky anew.

“Magic stones have become rare enough as it is, yet they waste them on this.”

Onlookers complained in cold voices, though despite their words, their eyes remained fixed on the underwear of the dancers in the procession.

“Why don’t they just walk around n*ked?”

Dancers wearing waistbands with long golden tassels moved gracefully. Following their movements, the tassels parted, teasing glimpses of their undergarments.

“They’re celebrating the late emperor’s achievements. Those dancers represent the ethnic minorities he conquered.”

“Were there such barbarians in the conquered territories?”

“Keep quiet if you don’t know. They don’t necessarily represent prisoners from neighboring countries. It’s based on the barbarian conquest events recorded in the mythical era. How could they fill such a long procession with just conquered territories? They’re appropriately incorporating conquest wars from mythical times too.”

“Even so, during the late emperor’s time, people walking around half-n*ked in broad daylight would have been imprisoned for obscenity. These are truly the end times. The country is heading toward ruin when such things are allowed. Have you been to bookstores? All kinds of lewd books are selling well. Maybe it’s because of the economic recession. Only low-class things sell like hotcakes while literary works that purify the soul don’t sell well.”

“People who would sell their souls for money.”

Debbie had been mingling with the crowd when these conversations reached her ears, and she listened quietly.

“The country is rotten. Everyone who gets excited about such things should be thrown into the military, drilled left and right, and have their minds reformed. Kids these days are cowards who haven’t killed anyone and just spout sophistry.”

She stared blankly at the people making these comments. Others at least moved around, watching briefly before moving on. These people, however, had been sitting in the same spot for a long time, complaining that other spectators were blocking their view of the parade.

They perfectly embodied the “patriots who only talk” that guest columnist AB had mentioned in a past issue.

While assisting photographer Black with the shoot, Debbie spotted a large carriage decorated as an elephant and a procession of showgirls from Voluptas. Among them, she recognized Lorraine’s face.

Dressed as a magnificent peacock among the uniformly beautiful showgirls, Lorraine dancing on the carriage was absolutely enchanting.

Lorraine!

Debbie realized that the emptiness she had felt since the hotel incident was because of Lorraine. She felt a strong urge to approach and speak with her right away.

She wanted to ask how Lorraine had been doing all this time. They shared parents who had been administrative officials and used to meet during Christmas, New Year’s celebrations, and Thanksgiving.

On those occasions, they had played together at the castle in Terium Province. She wanted to ask Lorraine if she knew the whereabouts of their childhood playmates.

Why hadn’t she thought of looking for them earlier?

Debbie chewed her lips anxiously. Based on what the president had implied, she strongly suspected that the children of vassals who had been executed as accomplices to treason were gathered nearby.

“I want to know how the others have been doing too.”

Alobachia Prestigious School was an educational institution created by reforming the existing school after the lord of Terium changed. Only students from the “bourgeoisie” or higher could attend.

However, Debbie was a scholarship student selected as a symbol of reconciliation, covering up her parents’ crimes as part of a policy to unite the territory’s residents.

Therefore, during her school years, she was exempt from tuition and dormitory fees. Of course, this didn’t mean she was exempt from money needed for pocket money, clothes, or food.

She still struggled to make ends meet with part-time jobs, but she couldn’t deny that her situation was much better than that of children in different circumstances.

During her school days, she had to live inconspicuously, labeled as the child of a traitor. There were times when she sobbed after being mocked by noble children on days when she received good grades, but she had to swallow her feelings because she would have nowhere to eat or sleep if she left school.

While her life certainly hadn’t been smooth, it must have been worlds apart from Lorraine’s, who had become a bar dancer. Lorraine would have had to survive completely on her own without any help.

That made Debbie want to meet her again even more.

“Debbie, what about the interviews!”

Team Leader Louis’s harsh rebuke fell right behind her.

“Do you think I sent you here to comfortably watch the parade?”

Louis had approached to check on the reporters scattered throughout the area.

“I was helping the photographer…”

Debbie tried to explain, but it was useless.

“Helping the photographer is one thing, but Miss Debbie, you should have been doing your own work alongside! If that’s all you’re going to do, we could have brought any assistant to stand here. There’s no reason to specifically place you here!”

Louis’s face turned bright red with anger.

“I’m sorry.”

Debbie apologized in a small voice, then asked parade spectators for their impressions while feeling Louis’s eagle-eyed gaze on her.

She could see reporters from other affiliations busily moving around. Then suddenly, her attention was drawn to one spot, and she stopped in her tracks.

Thinking she was slacking off again, Team Leader Louis approached her with a crumpled face.

“Miss Debbie, are you going to conduct interviews or not?”

Debbie continued staring in one direction, pointing toward the edge of the triumphal arch plaza where the procession was passing through.

“Team Leader, what’s happening over there?”

Louis pulled out the event schedule, glanced at it, and handed it to Debbie.

“It says someone will be reciting a tribute to this festival later.”

Debbie’s eyes trembled.

The event schedule only listed the tribute presenter as the representative of Lime Publishing, so she hadn’t anticipated who it might be. But the person standing there was unmistakably Ailey Fleur.

Ailey Fleur—her dear friend who had made her pinky promise to show her precious notebook of writing attempts only to her, claiming it was a token of their exclusive friendship.

Ailey looked magnificent. Brilliant blonde hair, deep blue eyes, an oval-shaped delicate face with an innocent appearance. An expensive-looking accessory adorned her slender white neck, and she wore a white fur shawl despite the mild weather.

With her slightly pressed beret, she was dressed exactly like someone who would be recognized as a distinguished poet.

“The rising star poet, representative of Lime Publishing, and pioneer of our literature—Miss Ailey Fleur will now recite a poem commemorating this festival,” the host announced loudly.

Amid cheers and applause, Ailey Fleur took the stage. She spread her arms dramatically and recited the poem—the very poem Debbie had written long ago.

Tears welled up in Debbie’s eyes as she watched.

She remembered when no one had believed her.

“It’s true! I wrote that poem!”

“If you wrote it, why did no one know you were writing poetry?”

“Ailey asked me to show my poems only to her until graduation, as a condition of being her friend!”

“That’s strange. Ailey has been consistently active with her work.”

“That was for external competitions, so I didn’t know! Even the teacher acknowledged it. Ailey asked not to announce her award to the school.”

“Debbie, let’s speak plainly. Ailey requested that because she didn’t want to stand out among her friends and create discomfort. She said excessive award recognition would be detrimental to maintaining casual friendships, and she wanted to remain humble for her future school life. She said there was no reason to be praised again within the school for external awards.”

“That’s not it. I was thoroughly used!”