Aira rolled her eyes in confusion. Of course, the Republic’s armed forces were divided between the navy under the military branch and investigators under the administrative branch.

When the Empire invaded the Northwestern Continent, the kingdoms united to form a naval defense force, which evolved into the Republic’s navy. As the Northwestern Continent became unified, military power concentrated in the navy that confronted the Empire.

Consequently, even the army was largely absorbed into the navy, leaving only some policing organizations. This strange system emerged as a result.

However, after the Republic’s establishment, various terrorist activities and uprisings like the current one occurred across different regions. Naturally, the investigative organizations that handled policing gradually expanded, taking on roles formerly performed by the army.

That’s why investigators supposedly disliked military involvement in land affairs unless it concerned dealing with Imperial citizens.

As someone from the Empire where all armed forces operated under the Emperor, Aira found this difficult to understand. But simply put, domestic crimes like terrorism should be handled by investigators.

Grand-Duke.

She had heard he was a special investigator with exceptional abilities, and it seemed his reputation was well-earned, given how quickly he subdued the terrorists. However…

“Did you anticipate the investigators’ arrival? But even if they noticed the terrorist threat, the train route is too long… and you wouldn’t have had any way to contact the outside from a moving train.”

This was precisely why terrorists targeted trains. Trains and ships were isolated worlds, cut off from the outside.

Especially ships crossing vast oceans, or trains traversing empty plains.

If the terrorists who seized the engine room had stopped the train somewhere without witnesses and escaped with their accomplices waiting nearby, there would have been no way to stop them.

Jens considered how to explain, then spoke.

“Do you know why the Republic has continuously lost to the Empire for the past few decades?”

“The most recent Servolang Naval Battle was a major victory for the Republic. That was your—”

“No, before that.”

Aira searched her memory while wrapping a bandage around Jens’s forehead, shaking her head at his dismissive interruption.

“I don’t know.”

“The speed gap.”

“Speed?”

With the wound treated, Jens gestured for Aira to sit down.

“The speed of transmitting orders, or reporting. Whatever. Communication between Republic warships relies solely on signal flags and light signals.”

“Ah…”

“The Empire has more than just that, doesn’t it?”

Aira nodded as she sat across from him. The Empire had already developed wireless communication using magic stones. Though it couldn’t transmit over extremely long distances, it was sufficient for communication between nearby fleets.

“No matter how meticulously you plan in advance, battlefield conditions change constantly, like the sea itself. The Republic’s inevitable defeat comes from being unable to respond promptly to these changes.”

“Then?”

Jens gave a bitter smile.

“They praise me as the Republic’s hero or whatever, but I simply recognized this problem first, while the rigid military was slow to accept it.”

His expression revealed frustration with the Republic’s current situation.

“Due to my personal interest, the Will family consistently supported the development of short-range wireless communication, which I independently implemented during the Servolang Naval Battle. Truthfully, I could have faced a court-martial for it.”

Aira shook her head. After Jens temporarily took command of the Republic’s fleet, their ships moved like a single organism.

If simply having slightly faster communication was enough to win, the technologically advanced Empire would have already swallowed the Republic.

It wasn’t merely a matter of technology; the capability of the user was far more important.

But Jens didn’t seem to think so. Aira decided not to argue about that and asked something else.

“Why didn’t the military accept the Will family’s invention?”

Jens didn’t answer, just maintained his bitter smile and shook his head. Aira read the answer in his expression and her eyes widened.

The airship, and those gear names.

“…Could it be Imperial technology?”

“I suppose I was wrong to treat you like a typical sixteen-year-old.”

Jens murmured softly, then raised his head to look at Aira.

“It’s highly irrational to take roundabout approaches due to pride when the technology already exists. But the stubborn old men in the military couldn’t accept it.”

As he explained, Jens seemed to remember something he’d forgotten and continued with an “Ah.”

“Of course, we didn’t use the Empire’s magic stones. Actually, what the Will family intensively invested in developing was extracting efficiency comparable to magic stones from black gold or alternative resources. We’ve had some modest success…”

Jens let his words trail off with a playful smile, seemingly inviting her to continue. Aira’s eyes widened as she spoke.

“So you used that communication technology on the train?”

“Mm.”

“How? You’re not a technical military officer, are you?”

“I told you. It was my personal interest. Thanks to that, I alerted the outside about the terrorist attack. All I needed to do was stall and hold out until the investigators arrived.”

“Then, how did the train stop at exactly the right spot?”

No matter how advanced the technology, it wasn’t possible to control the train from outside. Jens shrugged.

“That must have been their rendezvous point. Within the Theology group’s operational range, that plain was the only place they could stop the train and disembark without witnesses. I called the investigators there. They probably caught all the accomplices in advance.”

“Ah…”

Aira recalled that reading currents and underwater topography to formulate strategies was Jens’s specialty.

“Then I…”

“It means you didn’t need to risk your life trying to take over the train.”

Aira lowered her head in embarrassment. Stepping forward in that situation, believing she could save at least Jens and, by extension, the passengers with her abilities, was arrogant. She had acted impulsively, intoxicated by heroism.

“You may not believe it…”

But his voice held no reproach. If she had to identify the emotion underlying his words, it might be something like regret.

“Try trusting adults.”

Aira raised her head sharply. He was staring directly at her.

The request to trust wasn’t unfamiliar.

‘Aira, try trusting me who loves you.’

‘Aira, I care for you, so trust this brother of yours.’

‘Aira, you are my wife and I love you. You have only me, and I have only you, so trust me.’

They whispered of blood ties and love, saying she could trust only them, that the outside world held nothing but pain and death.

And they blamed her, hated her, asking why she wouldn’t trust them when they cared for and loved her so much, all while trying to keep her confined, claiming it was out of care and love.

But Jens didn’t ask her to trust him.

He asked her to trust adults, to trust the outside world.

When she just stared blankly, Jens gave a bitter smile.

“Of course, I know there are plenty of rotten people out there. No, there are few trustworthy individuals, and instead the world is full of con artists, criminals, and selfish people. But even so, children—minors—should be protected.”

Knock, knock.

Someone knocked on the hotel door. Jens left the frozen Aira and opened the door, speaking briefly with the person who knocked. Then he returned to her and said:

“I can imagine how much responsibility you’ve carried from a young age as a member of the imperial family. But you’re no longer a princess. Not since I received your renunciation of status.”

Though she had attached no significance to that renunciation document, Jens spoke of it as a turning point in her life.

“Now you’re just a cadet at the military academy, so it’s okay to escape from a train alone, or to hide behind someone and tremble. No one will blame you. Save stepping forward for after you graduate, at the very least.”

Jens placed what he had received at the door on Aira’s lap, patted her shoulder, and turned away.

“The Republic was created so that sacrifice wouldn’t be demanded only from certain special people, and so that everyone could enjoy their lives. Now that you live in this land, live according to your age.”

As he closed the door behind him, he added:

“Wash up, change, and come out. You must be hungry.”

In the empty room after Jens left, Aira stared blankly at what he had placed on her lap.

It was a short yellow dress perfectly suited for her age, with matching shoes. Ribbons fluttered like butterfly wings. Though a hotel staff member had procured them, they seemed personally selected by Jens as a gift.

She slowly raised her head to look at the mirror in the hotel room.

In it, a very young child with a face about to crumble stared back at her.

When she blinked, the girl in the mirror blinked too. She deliberately frowned. But this time, it was different from what she expected.

In the past, the woman who had become like a vengeful spirit had a completely distorted expression. But expressions were shaped by years.

The girl in the mirror, with different facial muscles, couldn’t form that distorted expression. She looked somewhat sad.

And soon, like herself, the reflection in the mirror seemed to fail at holding back.

Drip, drip, drip.

She had thought she was done crying—when she found Fletcher dying while tied to the mast, when she escaped from Luten’s hands—believing her life had ended then, that she was merely a moving corpse incapable of tears.

She had only tried to kill Luten and end her life out of loyalty to the remains of the body her retainers had desperately tried to protect, as a final act of will.

But not only did her life not end, she had regained her lost childhood—the brief period that could only be spent then—while escaping the Empire and heading toward the Archipelago.

Child, kid, little one.

The words he used far more often than “cadet” when referring to her told her:

That she had chosen again.

That she had truly regained the time she had lost.