The kingdom of Permanent is broke. It survives only by borrowing money from the wealthy merchant house Cordias. The knightly house Hazard has lost its power, and Queen Elzard is desperate. The Cordias family is rising fast, and they plan to save Permanent's finances through a marriage between Prince Telius and Ellilite.
But Ellilite Cordias, 18, carries a secret. Her late mother left her a 'return-from-death' potion. It has brought her back 100 times. Now it is the last dose — the 101st run.
O
The 101st Witch Trial - The Engagement Announcement Ceremony — The Smiling Accuser, One Hour of Grace —
Morning light filled the grand hall of Luminous Royal Castle.
Countless candles suspended from the high ceiling blazed brilliantly despite it still being morning. Gold ornaments adorning the entire wall caught that light, casting intricate shadows across the floor. Several hundred people had already gathered in the great hall. Nobles, high officials, and foreign envoys invited from various nations. Everyone was dressed in splendid attire, their gazes fixed on the two figures on the dais.
Elritte Cordeas stood upon that dais.
Her pure white dress shimmered faintly in the candlelight. Her silver-tinged blonde hair was tied high in a ponytail, and pearl ornaments scattered tiny flecks of light with every sway. Her deep emerald eyes looked straight ahead. There was a quiet intensity about her slender frame, as though something entirely different dwelled within.
Beside her stood Telius Permanent, the Crown Prince of Permanent.
Twenty-four years old. His soft brown hair swept back, his slightly drooping eyes narrowed in a smile. The prince, popular among the people for his sweet features and amiable nature, wore his perfect smile today as well. The white and gold formal attire suited him well. But his fingertips fidgeted restlessly at the hem of his clothes, hidden from view.
(Ah, this scene.)
Elritte sighed inwardly.
She had seen this engagement announcement ceremony many times. Ninety-seven times, to be precise. Among the hundred death-loops that began when she was sixteen, she had stood on this dais again and again. And she had been betrayed again and again.
(Today will follow the same course.)
She knew. That the man beside her would, smile still intact, denounce her as a witch. That as evidence, he would present a parchment bearing a false crest. And that within the hour, an inquisition would be convened.
She knew it all.
"Today is a most auspicious day for our nation."
The elderly noble serving as master of ceremonies declared in a voice that resonated through the hall.
"We hereby announce the engagement of Lady Elritte of the Cordeas family to His Highness Crown Prince Telius, pride of our nation."
Applause rose from the hall.
But there was no warmth in it. The nobles' expressions were uniformly stiff. The foreign envoys watched the dais with interest, or as though appraising its worth. Everyone knew what lay behind this engagement.
The Kingdom of Permanent was on the verge of bankruptcy.
The loan from the Cordeas family amounted to 1.2 million gold coins. Forty percent of the national budget vanished into interest payments. This engagement was nothing but a political marriage to write off that debt. A merchant upstart's daughter becoming the crown prince's consort. To the old nobility, it was nothing short of humiliation.
"My, how beautiful."
From the upper seat, a voice like a rolling bell descended.
Elzard Permanent. The current queen of Permanent, hailing from the Hazard family. Forty-two years old. Her deep auburn hair was piled high, and her cold blue eyes narrowed. A fan was held to her lips, hiding more than half her expression. But her eyes alone were not smiling.
"That white dress complements her silver hair so well. She looks like a snow spirit."
Elritte looked up at the queen in the upper seat.
(This one knows, too.)
What Elzard would do after this ceremony. What she would say. How she would trap Elritte. A hundred lifetimes of memory told her everything.
"I am honored by your praise, Your Majesty the Queen."
Elritte performed a flawless curtsy. Lifting the hem of her dress, back straight, elegantly. It was the movement of a noble lady without a single flaw.
Elzard's blue eyes flashed sharply for just a moment.
(What is this girl thinking?)
Elritte understood the meaning of that gaze as clearly as if it were in her hand. Elzard was waiting for Elritte to waver. Waiting for her to cower. But Elritte did not flinch. For her, who had experienced a hundred deaths, a ceremony of this magnitude was nothing more than a waypoint.
"El, you really are beautiful today."
A soft voice came from beside her.
Elritte slowly turned toward Telius.
Telius was smiling. A likable, gentle smile. The smile the masses called "the Sun Prince." But Elritte could tell. That deep within his eyes, no emotion resided at all.
"Thank you for your words, Your Highness."
She answered quietly.
(This one will kill me too.)
In a hundred lifetimes, Telius had betrayed Elritte countless times. Sometimes denouncing her as a witch, sometimes abandoning her, sometimes pushing her down with his own hands. He loved her? Don't make her laugh. This man thought only of his own self-preservation and the throne.
But the current Elritte could not afford to show that she knew.
"I never thought the day would come when I'd stand beside you like this... I'm truly happy."
Telius said in an enraptured tone.
"...I am honored as well."
Elritte answered without emotion.
(How many times have I heard this line?)
The same words. The same smile. The same false affection. It was all a scene Elritte had witnessed a hundred times.
The atmosphere in the hall shifted, little by little.
The nobles' murmuring quieted, and the foreign envoys straightened their postures. Something was beginning. Everyone sensed it.
"Now then, we shall proceed with the engagement ceremony."
Elzard stood.
Her deep auburn dress swayed as though sliding down the steps of the upper seat. At the queen's appearance, the nobles bowed in unison. Elritte followed suit.
(Here it comes.)
Elritte's heart gave one great leap.
What was about to begin was not an engagement ceremony. It was an accusation. The prelude to a witch trial. She had experienced it a hundred times.
Elzard stood before the two on the dais.
"Telius. Elritte. The engagement of you two is truly a joyous thing for the Kingdom of Permanent."
Closing her fan, Elzard looked at the two alternately.
"However, before that—"
A pause.
Elzard's blue eyes pierced through Elritte.
"I must inform everyone of something."
The hall stirred.
"This girl, Elritte Cordeas, is—"
Elzard's voice rang out coldly.
"—a witch."
A moment of silence.
The next instant, the hall erupted like a kicked hornet's nest.
"W-what did she say!?"
"A witch...!?"
"The Cordeas family's daughter...?"
The nobles' agitation spread like a wave. The foreign envoys stared at the dais with astonished expressions.
Elritte did not move.
(Yes, I know.)
She murmured quietly in her heart.
(After this, Telius will present the evidence.)
"Th-that can't be... Mother, what are you—"
Telius raised his voice in deliberately feigned confusion.
"Telius, you know as well. Show everyone that evidence."
Elzard's cold voice.
Telius glanced at Elritte for just a moment. Something wavered in his eyes. But it vanished immediately.
"...I understand, Mother."
Telius reached into the sleeve of his formal attire.
And drew out a single sheet of parchment.
"Everyone, please look at this."
Telius held the parchment up toward the hall.
On the parchment was drawn a strange crest. A coiling serpent and three moons. A forbidden crest said to be used in witches' sabbaths. In the Kingdom of Permanent, merely possessing this crest was grounds for being deemed heretical.
"This was found in Elritte Cordeas's private chambers."
Telius's voice was trembling.
"She... night after night, used this crest to summon monsters."
The air in the hall froze.
"Your Highness, is that true!?"
"Yes. I loved her. That is precisely why I could not believe it when I learned the truth. But... this is undeniable evidence."
Telius wore an expression of deepest sorrow.
(...How skillful.)
Elritte watched Telius's profile with cold eyes.
She had seen this man's acting ability more times than she cared to count over a hundred lifetimes. His sorrow, his anguish, his anger—all fabricated. His true emotions were nothing but fear and self-preservation.
"Elritte. Do you have anything to say in your defense?"
Elzard asked, as though triumphant.
Elritte quietly raised her face.
"...A defense, you say."
Her voice was as calm as a becalmed sea.
"I am not a witch. That parchment was not in my chambers either—someone brought it in."
Elzard's eyes narrowed smoothly.
"Oh my. Then who, pray tell, placed this crest in your room?"
"I do not know. But at the very least, it is not mine."
Elritte looked straight back at Elzard.
(I know it's futile resistance.)
In a hundred lifetimes, this rebuttal had never once worked. Elzard had intended from the very beginning to frame Elritte as a witch. The evidence, the witnesses, the verdict—all prepared in advance.
"I see. Then let us hear from a witness."
Elzard signaled with her fan.
The doors of the hall opened, and a single woman entered.
A woman in her mid-forties, dressed in a maid's uniform. Her face was pale, her eyes swollen from crying. Trembling in small fits, she walked toward the witness stand.
Marta.
The Cordeas family maid who had served Elritte since she was small.
(...Marta.)
A dull pain shot through Elritte's chest.
This woman had cared for Elritte since before she could remember. Bringing her meals, brushing her hair, telling her bedtime stories. When Elritte lost her mother, Marta had been the one to weep first.
But this woman, too, had betrayed Elritte many times over a hundred lifetimes.
"U-um... my name is Marta. I have served Lady Elritte since she was small."
Marta's voice was shaking.
"Marta. What did you see in Elritte's room?"
Elzard's voice descended like a sweet whisper.
Marta glanced at Elritte for just a moment.
And immediately averted her eyes.
"The young lady... every night, in her room, would raise her voice and summon monsters... I witnessed it many times. Black shadows entering through the young lady's window..."
At Marta's words, the hall murmured.
"Good heavens...!"
"So she really was a witch!"
"The Cordeas family was trying to make a witch the crown prince's consort!?"
The nobles' voices took on a tone of hatred.
Elritte bit her lip.
(I knew. I knew it.)
That Marta would perjure herself, that her tears were an act—she had experienced it all over a hundred lifetimes.
But even so.
(Even so, it hurts.)
A face she had known since childhood. A voice that had been kind. That person, shedding tears, denounced her as a witch. No matter how many times she experienced it, she could not grow accustomed to this pain.
"Young lady, forgive me... I could no longer stay silent..."
Marta collapsed in tears toward Elritte.
"Elritte. Your loyal servant testifies thus. Do you still intend to insist you are not a witch?"
Elzard's voice rang out triumphantly.
Elritte looked at Marta.
"...Marta. Did you truly see me summoning monsters?"
Her voice was quiet.
Marta's body gave a startled jolt.
"Y-yes... many times..."
"I see. Then it can't be helped."
Elritte said nothing more.
(It's useless. No matter what I say, this flow won't change.)
She had learned over a hundred lifetimes. No matter how much she argued here, the evidence would be thrust before her, the witness would perjure herself, and in the end she would be dragged off to the inquisition. That was this nation's "justice."
"Wait!!"
Suddenly, a roar echoed through the hall.
Pushing through the nobles, a man came running toward the dais.
Volkrus Cordeas.
Elritte's father, and the head of the Cordeas family. In his mid-fifties. A man who was frail and sometimes walked with a cane—but now he came running with a demon's expression.
"El is no witch! That parchment, that testimony—all fabricated! Queen, I know this was your doing!!"
Volkrus's voice rang through the hall.
(Father...)
Elritte's chest tightened.
This man, too, had done the same thing many times over a hundred lifetimes. Trying to protect his daughter, shouting desperately, resisting, and then—
"Lord Volkrus. Please do not lose your composure."
Elzard decla
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