Jens gazed silently at the princess. The bleeding princess was desperately pleading.

What had the 3rd Prince, known to cherish this princess, done to make her abandon everything and cling to him like this? Moreover, if she truly hated that place, why had she rejected the Archipelago, which would have been a better option?

He couldn’t believe the princess had rejected both the 3rd Prince and the King of the Archipelago simply because she disliked marriage. If she hated political marriages, she wouldn’t have calmly suggested marriage to him.

Besides, the Imperial royal family thoroughly educates their heirs—those who will become the next Emperor or pillars supporting the Empire—to the point of brainwashing. Especially someone born and raised in the Imperial Palace, a blood child of the Emperor.

“All royalty, the mages born on the Southern Continent… They all live that way, just like the humans on the Northwestern Continent.”

Jens bit his lip as he heard his own voice, which sounded unlike him and incredibly foolish.

The princess looked up at him. Her strikingly purple eyes seemed to have golden undertones upon closer inspection. The colors radiating outward from her pitch-black pupils resembled light. Or perhaps cracks forming in an egg shell, ready to hatch.

No, they were sharp accusations directed at him, like flashes of lightning, seemingly asking why he remained so confined.

Why had she broken her shell and boarded this ship?

With what wish in her heart?

“Forcibly gathering the pieces of an eggshell to live within? Forever yearning for the light that seeps through the cracks? No, that’s wrong. That’s not living. Being dragged back to the Empire means merely breathing without truly living.”

“…”

It wasn’t a plea directed at him. Her voice had already resigned itself. Even if he stopped her now, if she were forcibly returned to the Empire, she would certainly take her own life. Jens disliked feeling anxious.

But he couldn’t bear watching someone choose death before his eyes, especially a child. Despite having contributed more than most to filling the Red Sea—the strait between the Republic and the Empire—with countless lives, making it even redder, he paradoxically felt this way.

The princess’s voice drew out memories from his own childhood. Yes, perhaps he could offer some small help.

Having made his calculations, Jens pushed away the princess’s hand. He turned and flipped the switch on the recorder he had previously turned off.

“Promise me.”

“What?”

“I’ll help you. But in exchange.”

Jens gestured toward the recorder with his chin.

“Swear to me that you won’t kill yourself. Whether by magic or physical means. By any method.”

“…What? What benefit does that give you?”

Seeing the princess’s incredulous expression, Jens frowned.

“I don’t know about the Empire, but in the Republic, we can’t stand seeing children die. Especially by suicide.”

“That…”

“Don’t ever do such a thing again.”

“…”

“I understand you cannot return to the Empire. But I have no interest in children.”

At Jens’s words, the princess looked upset. He didn’t like that a mere sixteen-year-old girl would immediately think of marriage as a solution.

“Similarly, I have no intention of betraying my fiancée. Instead, I have a proposal.”

“What?”

The princess blinked. Jens shared the idea that had occurred to him when he heard the princess say she wanted to go neither to the Empire nor to the Archipelago.

“There’s another option besides outdated methods like marriage. A new path that allows you to seek asylum and protect yourself from the Empire.”

“…?”

“Enroll in the Republic’s Military Academy. You’re still sixteen, right?”

“Huh?”

The princess’s eyes widened, suggesting she had never considered this possibility.

Jens reached for his handkerchief on the table and handed it back to the princess. Blood was still beading on her neck, not completely stanched. The princess pressed it to her neck again with a dazed expression.

“Sixteen is the eligible age for enrollment. The Military Academy covers all tuition and provides living expenses. If you present your case well, you might even receive asylum settlement funds. After graduation, you’ll be bound to the Republic’s military, but as a cadet, you’ll be politically neutral.”

Jens continued calmly as he sat down across from the princess again.

“They won’t demand that you become anti-Empire propaganda during your cadet years. Additionally, according to the Tripartite Agreement, no country can harm unappointed cadets under any circumstances.”

This was a small achievement gleaned from a bloody history. Days like the Falling Flower Day or Blue Blood Wednesday.

Jens intended to use this to his advantage. He took a sip of his cold coffee while watching the princess who was haphazardly holding the handkerchief to her neck with little interest in stopping the bleeding.

“There is a mandatory service period after graduation, but you’ll receive Republic citizenship. After discharge, you’ll be free. We’ll need to consider how to handle the 3rd Prince’s pursuit after that.”

“…”

“No matter how angry the Empire becomes or how much the 3rd Prince wants you, they cannot touch a cadet who is both a citizen and asset of the Republic. If they did, not only the Republic but also the Archipelago would respond to the Empire with zero tolerance.”

The princess blinked rapidly.

“You’ll be safer as a cadet than as the wife of the Will family heir, who wouldn’t even be on land during your time as a cadet.”

To the princess who stared at him silently, Jens stated firmly:

“This is far better than the foolish idea of escaping the Empire’s 3rd Prince or King Aigis of the Archipelago by handing your leash to a Republic soldier.”

“A cadet…”

She had never considered it before. As Jens said, it didn’t seem like a bad idea. At least for escaping Jorge and Luten’s grasp immediately.

But that alone wouldn’t achieve her ultimate goal. She hadn’t returned just to continue living.

Aira glanced at the recorder that was still running. Jens caught her glance and gestured with his chin, urging her to answer.

Ah, about suicide.

But that wasn’t simply for emotional reasons as he thought—it was a practical choice. Whether she promised or not, he wouldn’t know if she died.

“I promise.”

“Be specific.”

“But I have a condition too.”

Jens nodded readily. Aira’s lips twisted. Despite being in a position to grant favors, he was causing unnecessary trouble by trying to prevent her suicide.

“Help me seek asylum.”

“The Will family can provide asylum settlement funds.”

“No.”

Aira removed the handkerchief pressing against her neck and stared at it. It was embroidered with armeria, a flower sharing its name with the island where the Will family began.

The armeria, symbol of the Will family, was a flower that grew in harsh environments. Incredibly delicate, yet with unbelievably tenacious vitality.

The small flower buds seemed ill-suited to both the prestigious family and to him.

“Become my guardian. As Jens Will the individual, not as the Will family.”

“…Why are you so determined to be connected to me? Stop this. Whatever you’re hoping for, I’m not someone who can give you anything. Not me.”

“That’s my only condition. If you agree to that, I won’t attempt to kill myself again and will quietly enter the Military Academy. Satisfied?”

Jens asked with an exasperated expression.

“What do you want?”

“Hm?”

“Your demands are consistent. Having abandoned the Empire, I don’t believe you desire power in the Republic through a connection with me. What exactly do you want from me?”

Aira asked expressionlessly, without much expectation of an answer.

“What do you want?”

“Honestly, I’d prefer if you returned to the Empire. At the very least, I wish you weren’t my responsibility.”

“Not that. What is your wish?”

He appeared as expressionless as she was. But strangely, Aira could tell.

He was clearly affected. For an instant, a crack appeared in his eyes—the color of snow repeatedly accumulating and melting. Aira felt like she had discovered something unknown.

But before she could identify this mystery, Jens thinly veiled his eyes with his eyelids.

Once again unreadable and composed, as if he had never been disturbed, he removed the wax cylinder from the recorder and placed it in his bag without hesitation. He hastily gathered the documents and stood up.

“I’ll inform the leadership about the Military Academy matter. Officials will visit you soon.”

“My condition?”

“I’ll send a regular monthly sponsorship. We’ll start at your Military Academy entrance ceremony. My personal secretary will attend.”

“My question?”

Jens grabbed the doorknob. Turning away as if in a hurry. In his fleeting gaze, something seemed to seep through the re-cracked ice, or perhaps something was blooming.

“…I have no such thing as a wish.”

But he opened the door and left without looking back.