act29side

I'm not even sure I have the right to anyway.

I scarcely remember how he looked. In all these years, all the word 'father' meant to me was just the letters he sent to Kazimierz.

And yet I can't help but think that even the letters themselves might well have been written by a retainer in his stead.

Your father never once forgot about you.

Mm... So everyone tells me, including himself.

And I'm willing to believe it.

But as I read that last letter, I still hesitated. I didn't know if I should... No, if I <i>wanted</i> to come back.

You have a tender heart, Viviana. I can't imagine you'd ever decline a dying man's last wish.

Or perhaps... it was the spire I wanted to see one last time.

Just to see if it still towered over the clouds, like I remembered.

You can't go back there. At least, not for now.

For your own safety, we shouldn't remain in Sturmland for long.

Were the ones who took his life and the casters who came for me last night... sent by the same people?

Not necessarily. With Werner gone, anyone that knows who you are has reason enough to make a move against you.

You're your father's sole descendant. In times this turbulent, neither his enemies, nor his former vassals, nor anyone else potentially in line to succeed him will just leave you be.

Then what about you? Why are <i>you</i> protecting me?

Think, and you might still recall, child. Thirteen years ago, upon your mother's passing, I was the one who took you to the Grand Knight Territory.

Then you're... the Imperial Orchestra of Leithanien's...

Instrument tuner. Quite a convenient role.

The Reichsorchester's visit symbolized the friendly ties between Leithanien and Kazimierz. No one would think to question a child with an instrument among them.

So you've saved my life... more than once.

It was your father who wanted to, more than anyone.

Some months ago, Werner realized his days were waning, and he worried that after he left us, you'd be dragged down as a sacrifice in the power struggle.

Your role in this is <i>unique.</i> Whether you chose to return to Leithanien or stay in Kazimierz, the waves would have reached you regardless.

He had no choice but to turn to me and Brandt. He hoped that as old friends of his, we could bring you safely to Zwillingstürme.

There, you'll be under the protection of the Kaiserinnen.

Protection... of the Empresses?

Ja. That's what Werner wanted for you.

Viviana von Hochberg—

In the name of your family, you are to serve as an Empresses' Voice.

Central Leithanien, Kreis Einwald, in a town on the outskirts of Zwillingstürme, not far from the city gate

*huff*... *pant*... I need sleep. Verdammt! Why am I on duty again?

Those spry young wretches, always clocking out early. What excuse did they have today, a new movie? Some underground live show?

The moment the month rolls over, I'll see that I get a word in with the Baron, to speed up my transfer to Zwillingstürme...

Hey, you there!

What are you doing, loitering here this late?

<i>I am taking my regular walk.</i>

To my knowledge, there have been no new decrees forbidding law-abiding citizens like myself from rambling the wilds past midnight.

...Well, you're not wrong.

Just another bored youth going for a walk. Why was I getting so nervous?

...Am I free to go now? I appreciate your concern.

Go on, be on your— Wait.

Why do I get the feeling... I've seen you somewhere before?

You could be mistaken. After all, you did just tell me that strolling nighttime youths are as common as anything.

Where are you from? By your accent, I'm guessing the Urtica Grafschaft?

I was born there... in the countryside.

Countryside? What kind of country bumpkin talks like that? Stop being ridiculous.

No... Now that you mention it, I've never heard <i>any</i> commoner pronounce things the way you do. Say, you wouldn't happen to be the runaway son of some small-time noble, would you?

Let me check your ID.

If you're fantasizing about gaining the favor of some aristocrat for returning me, then you will be sorely disappointed.

...Has anyone ever told you that the way you talk could seriously piss people off?

ID. Now.

Pardon, pardon, I've got my boy's passport right here. Do peruse.

And who are you?

Come on, you don't remember me? I live in the city. That second-hand bookshop guy.

Speaking of which, the books aren't quite flying off the shelves, and lately I've been thinking, what about a cafe instead? You must be awfully tired this late on patrol, no? Here, here, try my coffee. My own brew.

...*sip*.

*choke*... Mein Gott, the taste... I'd forget about that cafe if I were you, for your own sake.

Haha, as long as it wakes you up. So are you done with the passport?

...Ebenholz. That's your full name?

Ja.

His parents just <i>love</i> the piano. The keys, especially—it was between Ebenholz or Elfenbein.

Well, whatever, be on your way. You think they pay me enough to question a kid's legal name? And yes, give me all the disgusting swill you've got left, I'll need it.

If you'd known you'd be back so soon, would you have not burned your passport?

I regret nothing.

If you must know, I naturally assumed that whenever you people wanted me back, you'd simply print a second one. Or as many as you need.

...So why <i>did</i> you come back?

For the hundreds of thousands of residents of the Urtica Grafschaft. Over a hundred retainers in the spire alone. I'm not so far gone in my selfishness that I'd sacrifice them all for my so-called freedom.

Which means you can stop it with the jokes, my dear spy. Or did Their Majesties send you to try me again? See if maybe I'll pour my heart out and wait on them hand and foot?

With Das Kaiserinnensfest approaching, Zwillingstürme has been restless lately.

Heh... And of course I still have that thing in my head.

I know better than any of you that the performance of this ludicrously grating piece is far from over.

Listen to me, meine Herr. My mission ends here.

Once you head into Zwillingstürme, someone else will pick you up.

Maybe you've already realized this, but you had two correspondence. One ordering you to come to the capital, and the other granting you your official 'death.' But it wasn't the same Majesty that wrote both.

Compared to the first's benevolence, the other...

Ebenholz doesn't even let Biegler finish before walking off.

Just before disappearing around the corner for good, the young man waves ta-ta to him.

So you knew.

Former Graf Urtica, are you hoping for... a true death this time?

*huff*... I'm getting sentimental now, in all this miserable gray weather.

May you...

No, never mind.

If people like us still have a shred of luck to spare—

—Then let's pray we never have to meet again.