"To think they'd interrogate us so barbarically, those Republic bastards...!"
Luke stormed down the corridor, huffing with anger. We had just been released from the Republic's intelligence division. Luke seemed quite upset by the officers' overbearing treatment. I steadied him with an even voice.
"At least they didn't use violence. It was their version of a gentlemanly response."
"But they used truth-telling magic and drugs! This isn't how you treat asylum seekers. They're openly treating us like spies!"
Luke punched the wall with a thud. The solidly built stone wall crumbled inward, showering dust. His eyes blazed with fury.
"Fine, whatever about me, but Daisy, you're the one and only daughter of the Custos duchy! If Lord Dantalion becomes the Sebastokrator's adopted son, you'll be next in line for the imperial throne! And instead of treating you with the respect you deserve, they dare to...!"
"It's fine."
I understood how Luke felt. During the interrogation, the intelligence officers had focused their questioning solely on me. I had deliberately treated Luke like a servant ever since we arrived, which led the intelligence division to judge his importance as far below mine. That was a fair assessment.
The moment my brother and I arrived in Munich, the capital of the Republic, we were detained. We endured interrogation throughout the night and were then thrown into solitary confinement for another half day.
That half day was probably how long it took to verify my testimony. The fact that we had been released meant the Republic had personally confirmed the secret passages of the Demon Lord's Castle. As expected of the Republic. Their actions were swift. No, perhaps here I should be giving credit to that woman, the Consul...
Elisabeth von Habsburg.
This ruler, who had forsaken her own surname and wished to be called simply Elisabeth, had grated on my nerves from the moment we met. When we had seized the captain of the guard and taken him hostage, she walked out wearing nothing but a nightgown and a thin cloak.
She was breathtakingly beautiful. Silver hair that proved her bloodline to the Habsburg imperial family. Back straight, chin held high, Elisabeth stared me down without flinching.
*'So you claim to be Dantalion's attendant.'*
The voice was reminiscent of the depths of winter. Cold, yet captivating. I had originally planned to take a deferential, humble approach when meeting her. But seeing her in person changed my mind. This woman had the audacity to address my father simply as "Dantalion," stripped of any honorific.
As if my father were her equal or something. It was rather unpleasant. I replied with an expressionless face.
*'I am Daisy von Custos, the noble daughter of the Duke of Custos.'*
*'Custos? Don't tell me Dantalion is called that in his own inner circle.'*
*'I wasn't aware the Consul took such an interest in the Duke's private affairs. I'm glad it seems I have quite a bit to tell you.'*
Elisabeth let out a soft scoff.
"Well, no matter. I'll address you however you wish to be called. Princess of Custos — what business do you have breaking into the capital of our Republic in the dead of night, causing such a disturbance?"
Judging by her tone, it was clear the woman had taken an immediate dislike to me.
We had only exchanged a handful of glances and a few sentences, but I had already gotten a fairly good read on just how ruthlessly tenacious her personality was.
First, she absolutely refused to call me "Dantalion's daughter" or "Dantalion's girl," not even once. She must have already confirmed through her intelligence division that my appearance matched that of Daisy von Custos perfectly.
In other words, whether consciously or unconsciously, the woman refused to acknowledge any close relationship between Father and me. It was proof that she harbored feelings for Father despite not even knowing her place as a princess of a fallen nation.
Father had become fixated on the woman before him far more than was warranted. Then again, it would hardly be surprising if the Consul were fixated on Father in return. The problem was the gap in their stations. It seemed she genuinely regarded Father as her equal. One could only conclude she was a bit dim.
I needed to take her down a notch.
Without a word, I released the captain of the guard. The moment my blade left his throat, the man scrambled away toward the other side in a panic. Watching this, Consul Elisabeth raised an eyebrow.
"Ho. You're confident enough to release a hostage of your own volition?"
"He was only taken as a hostage so that I might meet the Consul in the first place. My primary objective has already been achieved. There is no point in holding him any longer."
"No point, you say."
Consul Elisabeth crossed her arms.
"Princess of Custos — at this very moment, seven Sword Masters have you quietly surrounded. Now that the hostage has been released, we have no reason to hold back our attack either. Isn't this a touch too arrogant of you?"
"There are nine of them, not seven."
"......"
The air around us suddenly turned ominous.
The warriors standing guard around the Consul took half a step forward toward me. She had seen through the two remaining members who were concealing themselves thoroughly, beyond the seven Sword Masters who had already revealed themselves. She had also realized that I was at least a Sword Master-level combatant, if not beyond.
Now, with the mood shifting, was my chance.
I sheathed my greatsword and spoke.
"As the heir to the ducal house, I have slain Bael, the most powerful Demon Lord among all, captured the Demon Lord Agares as a prisoner, and delivered death to Marshal Gaspar de Tavannes, the Grand General of the Frank Empire, through a honorable duel. I now request political asylum in your nation."
This was a demand to be treated properly as a political exile.
The soldiers exchanged bewildered glances. The military achievements I had recited were simply too overwhelming.
Looking back on it now, Father's orders for me to slay the Demon Lords had also been preparation for the distant future. Father had plans to, depending on the circumstances, put me forward as the Emperor of the Habsburg Empire.
If I, the adopted daughter of a Demon Lord, were to ascend to the throne, neighboring nations and the people themselves would surely protest vehemently. No matter how human I might be, how could they elevate a Demon Lord's daughter to emperor? They would never accept it.
That is when my merits would shine. A human who had captured the Rank 1 and Rank 2 Demon Lords. By displaying this widely, the backlash would be significantly reduced. It might even create the impression of an emperor who is fair to both demonkin and humans…
Father would sometimes describe himself as a spider-like person. It was a truly accurate metaphor.
He casts spider webs everywhere to ensure complete preparedness. No matter how the future unfolds, he can respond to it, having prepared for every possibility… Everyone else, apart from Father, was nothing more than helpless prey trapped in those webs, slowly starving to death.
You are no exception, Elisabeth von Habsburg. Pay your respects to my father. I looked the Consul directly in the eye.
A moment later, the Consul spoke.
"The Republic accepts its people without regard to origin. If your desire for asylum is genuine, our nation will gladly welcome you. However, you must be aware that certain procedures are necessary."
"Of course."
"Gentlemen. We have a most valuable guest. Treat her with utmost sincerity and respect."
Consul Elisabeth ordered her subordinates.
What followed was an interrogation without end.
Intelligence agents surrounded me and unleashed hundreds of questions. They were all supremely skilled professionals. The rumor that the Habsburg Republic possessed the continent's finest intelligence network was no falsehood. Of course, the more thoroughly a dictatorship was implemented, the more places like the intelligence bureau would thrive.
Was the intention to pour questions like a waterfall to shake my mental state? I'm sorry, but that wouldn't work on me. Once, under the guise of training, Father had subjected me to relentless torture for half a month straight. Even then, I maintained my composure.
"Did you truly betray Dantalion?"
"The Dantalion referred to here is the Demon Lord ranked 71st. Is it true you betrayed him?"
The intelligence agents presented their own logic to press me. Compared to Father's terrifying "lessons," this was child's play.
I was a little bored, so I actually turned their questions back on them instead. As a result, rather than being placed under surveillance by the intelligence department, Barbatos was left entirely under my jurisdiction. By now, the Consul's dogs were probably congratulating themselves on having achieved the "best possible outcome."
Elisabeth truly treated me with genuine hospitality. So I, in turn, prepared meals for her subordinates with equal care. I had done nothing wrong.
Consul Elisabeth would probably suspect me until the very end, but the fact that I had passed the intelligence department's test meant my primary objective had already been accomplished. That was why, unlike Luke, who was grumbling and full of complaints, my own mood wasn't half bad.
"Now try locking me in some shabby room. I'll throw a fit, you'll see."
Luke huffed as he opened the door at the far end of the corridor. It led to a space prepared in the basement of the intelligence department building. From now on, we were not allowed to leave here without permission.
The room was quite spacious. In the very center, Barbatos hung with his entire body bound in anti-magic chains, unconscious—presumably from a powerful sedative that had been administered. Setting that aside, the room was as lavish as a royal chamber.
"...It's passable, I suppose. Not terrible."
Luke scowled, giving the impression that he was grudgingly conceding.
Even though he had betrayed Father and now found himself essentially imprisoned in a foreign nation's intelligence department, Luke remained remarkably composed. Was it boldness, or simply a lack of thought? Even as his sister, trying to view him in the most favorable light possible, Luke leaned much closer to the latter.
I walked toward the bed. From behind me, Luke spoke.
"Huh? You're going to sleep already?"
"The Consul will probably summon us again within a few hours. I'll rest my eyes until then."
I lay down on the bed and burrowed inward like a hedgehog. The two days spent in the intelligence department had imposed a hidden toll on my body, whether I had noticed it or not. Whenever an opportunity like this arose, I had to diligently work the fatigue out of my muscles.
Slowly, drowsiness crept over me. I could fall asleep anywhere, at any time. That, too, was thanks to Father's training. Father would regularly assign extreme tasks—things like "endure for a fortnight without sleep," or "I will not permit anything beyond ten-minute naps"—forcing me to withstand the limits of human endurance.
Those accumulated trainings had built the person I was now.
Even when Father was not by my side, he was firmly engraved within my body.
That was enough.
A certain scene surfaced in my mind. It was the day Father had pressed his lips to mine. The exact number of his eyebrows, the softness and warmth of his lips—I remembered every detail with vivid clarity. I gently touched my own lips.
"......"
It was a bit troublesome.
The thought of Father's kiss made my body grow just the slightest bit warm.
But I had no choice but to endure it. Not only was Luke here, but Memoria artifacts were scattered all over the place. If I pulled any tricks here, a report would reach Consul Elisabeth in no time.
…Stay strong.
I consciously tried not to think of Father. But comforting myself with thoughts of him every time I drifted off to sleep had long since become an ingrained habit, so I had to fight desperately against my own tendencies.
Three hours passed before I finally managed to fall asleep. In the meantime, Luke had already dropped off on the other bed and was snoring away to his heart's content.
…I would definitely have to request a single room from Consul Elisabeth for the next interrogation. Preferably one without any Memoria artifacts laid about.