Jens had no real role in the first armistice negotiations. He had already passed on all necessary information, and there were others specifically assigned to organize documents and participate in the actual talks.

Despite his presence being unnecessary, Admiral Lüse, the commander-in-chief of the Servolang Naval Battle, kept summoning him. It was utterly exhausting.

Going back to his quarters would only mean facing mountains of documents awaiting his approval. Instead of returning to his assigned officer’s quarters, Jens headed to the interrogation room earlier than scheduled.

Settled in the interrogation room, Jens stared blankly at the table. On it rested a tightly clenched fist with protruding knuckles.

They had looked remarkably like the wing bones of a small bird unable to take flight without feathers. Her hair color had also resembled the fluffy down of a baby bird.

But despite the rough naval battle, the princess’s hands—which in many ways reminded him of a small bird—had sharp bloodstains where her well-manicured nails had dug into her palms.

The princess, abandoned by her subordinates and thrown overboard, had said she could neither return to the Empire nor seek asylum in the Archipelago instead of the Republic.

While explaining her reasons, she had lost her composure when he seemed to defend the King of the Archipelago. Despite her famous chronic illness, the princess’s angry face had been extraordinary.

He frowned. No matter how hard he searched his memory, the Empire’s 17th Princess had no connection to King Luten of the Archipelago.

Click.

The princess entering the interrogation room looked slightly surprised. Understandably so—an interrogator never arrives before the person being interrogated.

But Jens felt anxious. Even during the first armistice negotiations, he had felt an urgent need to meet this princess again.

The princess’s tip had been accurate. Though they were now denying it, the warships that had ambushed them were clearly from the Archipelago, and following that surprise attack, the 9th Prince’s fleet, which had been hiding beyond Bebust Island to the northwest, had descended upon the Republic’s fleet.

Had this second ambush succeeded, the Archipelago’s main fleet would have followed as a third wave. That would have been quite dangerous.

Though he believed they wouldn’t have lost even without foreknowledge, the princess’s tip had allowed them to conclude matters with minimal casualties. Having lost their final card, the Empire had proposed a ceasefire.

Thanks to this, the Republic could sign the armistice documents under more favorable conditions.

Jens watched with tired eyes as the princess pulled out a chair and sat down. Out of respect for her role as an informant, she was no longer handcuffed. Schaefer, assigned to guard her, stood behind her.

“Schaefer. Guard outside the door.”

Schaefer’s eyes widened.

“But Lieutenant.”

“Schaefer.”

“I cannot. Your safety is the highest priority.”

“I told you to leave.”

“Please withdraw your order. After all you’ve done for the Republic—”

Schaefer stubbornly shook her head. But Jens continued shuffling through documents, refusing to look at her. As the standoff dragged on, the princess spoke up.

“What about magic suppression handcuffs?”

“What?”

“You’re worried I might suddenly manifest magical powers, right? Put them on me. That way I can talk more comfortably too.”

“…Alright. Just a moment.”

Jens looked up from his documents and stared at Schaefer.

“Have you defected to the Empire?”

“What do you mean, sir?”

“Why are you listening to the princess instead of your superior?”

Schaefer tensed, standing rigidly at attention. But she still held her ground. The standoff grew longer.

Jens had no intention of withdrawing his order, and Schaefer showed no sign of leaving. After watching them both, the princess sighed and said:

“I know.”

“Know what?”

Jens turned his head stiffly.

“I know you can’t shoot a gun.”

Bang!

Schaefer fired her weapon. The bullet grazed the princess’s ear, cutting through her hair before embedding itself in the interrogation room wall.

Swish. Hair severed by the bullet’s trajectory showered onto the floor. Blood trickled down her ear, dotting her ivory-colored hair.

Schaefer had fired with genuine intent to kill the princess. But a clipboard had suddenly shot out, striking her arm and causing the bullet to miss its mark.

While Schaefer gritted her teeth, Jens remained expressionless, and Aira calmly pressed her hand to her bleeding ear to stop the blood flow.

Bang! The door flew open as Yuvil rushed in.

“Are you alright, Lieutenant!”

“Yuvil. Throw Schaefer in the brig immediately.”

“What?”

“And call the medical officer.”

“What?”

“Shut your mouth and move.”

Faced with such a resolute attitude that offered no explanation beyond orders, Yuvil was bewildered.

What on earth was happening? He had rushed in at the sound of gunfire, but among those in the interrogation room, only Schaefer would have had reason to shoot.

But Schaefer? The Ice Witch of the Nautile?

Yet the gun still in Schaefer’s hand was undeniable evidence. When Schaefer’s gun moved slightly, Jens raised his head again to glare directly at her.

“And confiscate that gun immediately. It’s evidence in an attempted murder case against an asylum seeker. Prepare to hand it over to the military police.”

“What?”

“Collect gunpowder residue evidence too.”

“…I’ll prepare a written statement as well.”

Schaefer answered as if it were someone else’s affair and handed the gun to Yuvil.

Unable to say anything beyond “What?”, Yuvil took the offered gun with a dazed expression and handcuffed Schaefer. Procedure was procedure, and his superior clearly wouldn’t provide any further explanation.

Soon other soldiers came rushing in. As they took her away, Schaefer looked at Jens, her lips moving like she was trying to say something.

But Jens didn’t spare her a glance, and finally, before leaving, she turned toward the princess with her strangely cut hair.

The princess was still stemming the blood from her ear with an expressionless face. Or rather, looking closely, it was clear she was forcing herself to maintain that expression. Before turning away, the princess mouthed something.

‘Sorry.’

Schaefer scowled deeply and strode out, refusing to look at the princess.

The medical officer, who had rushed in after being summoned, cleaned Aira’s ear with a pale face.

“There will likely be a scar… To be honest, part of the earlobe has been cut off. It won’t heal completely.”

But Aira nodded and treated it as nothing significant. The medical officer found her reaction strange.

For a young woman, or at least any normal human being, having their ear permanently disfigured would be horrifying, or at minimum, the pain would show on their face. Yet she looked indifferent, as though it weren’t her own body.

Moreover, he knew the Imperial royal family treasured the bodies of their royalty so much that even trimming their hair required elaborate procedures, and the process of keeping their bodies pure involved thorough and unnecessarily complex rituals.

Yet here she was, with chunks of hair cut off and part of her earlobe gone, showing this reaction?

Then again, perhaps that’s why she had been at the front lines of the war. While the 9th Prince, the Empire’s commander-in-chief, was hardly ever seen near the fighting.

Not understanding Aira’s position in the Empire, the medical officer shook his head as he finished the treatment and withdrew.

After the medical officer left, only the Republic’s hero and the Empire’s 17th Princess remained in the interrogation room with its bullet mark. Aira cupped her hand behind her bandaged ear and then shrugged.

“Sounds really do sound strange now.”

“I thought something was strange.”

Without any small talk, Jens spoke.

“How did Your Highness know about the Archipelago’s betrayal?”

“Did I?”

“The secret alliance with the Archipelago and their betrayal would have been top-secret information even within the Imperial military. It seems unlikely that Your Highness, who is at odds with the commander-in-chief, the 9th Prince, would have received this information from Imperial headquarters.”

Aira stared directly at Jens. Despite having his greatest secret exposed, he too showed no particular agitation.

“Furthermore, matters concerning me are known only to the Will family and some top brass in the Republic military.”

That’s right.

Jens was the heir to the Will family, which had produced countless high-ranking military officers including generations of Naval Chiefs of Staff, and was the grandson of Hurst Will, the “Star of the Navy.”

Despite a dishonorable incident several years ago, it wasn’t enough to tarnish the reputation of the prestigious Will family. The family itself had handled the matter strictly.

That’s why tremendous attention had been focused on Jens Will since he entered the Naval Academy. However, contrary to his family’s reputation, he hadn’t shown any remarkable achievements. Strangely so. Almost as if he deliberately tried to lay low.

But through this Servolang Naval Battle, people were saying that the Will family truly lived up to its name. His contributions had been that impressive.

It had been a war where the Republic seemed destined for devastating defeat.

As a result, Jens’s standing had risen tremendously, and he would likely be promoted by one or two ranks. The Republic would also exaggerate his military achievements to divert attention from poor domestic conditions, and they would certainly use Jens in that process.

According to her memories of the past, immediately after the Servolang Naval Battle, at just twenty-four years old, he would become captain of an enormous ship. And he would reach admiral rank in the blink of an eye.

By the time he met Aira at thirty, he was already an indispensable core force in the Republic’s military as an admiral.

There were even expectations that he might become the Naval Chief of Staff before forty—a first in Republic history. He had already achieved military accomplishments surpassing his grandfather.

Such a man had one single, fatal weakness.

He couldn’t shoot a gun.