Two days had passed since the night Riona saw the Prime Minister's office uniform disappear into the corridor's shadow. Riona was alone in the morning courtyard. The courtyard of the Royal Crescent Academy—the place called Jardin Étoilé—was lined with autumn herbs and flower beds in neat rows. Sitting on a stone bench, Riona reviewed the memo in her hands. A photocopy of an ancient document she'd borrowed from Clara the librarian at the Astraea Library in the library wing—pages from the Varmoon Family Covenant, with a hexagram seal and archaic text side by side. There were still many parts she hadn't deciphered. *(There was nothing like this setting anywhere in the game.)* Riona looked up at the sky. Clear autumn weather, not a single cloud. The stone towers of the royal capital Crescent pierced the distant blue sky. It was quiet. Too quiet. "—Do you have a moment?" Riona turned around. Black hair. Sharp, narrow eyes. The uniform worn with perfect precision, posture straight as if measured by a ruler. Expression blank. Mouth drawn into a thin line. Crest Ivan. The aide who had performed a flawless prostration in the Hall of Judgment—Filsenia Arnold's right hand. *(He's exactly like the cool character type from the game...)* Riona almost thought that to herself. "[gentle]...Please," She answered while looking closely. Ivan was pulling a folded document from his pocket. The motion was smooth, composed. But— His ears were red. *(…What?)* For a moment, Riona doubted her own eyes. The sharp silver pupils were completely calm, his mouth unmoved. Yet the tips of his ears were turning a faint red. Clearly red. Not peach-colored, not pale crimson—actually, properly red. "[serious]After the Hall of Judgment, I've been conducting my own investigation. I have a report," His voice was quiet, not wavering a millimeter. But his ears were red. *(There's a lot of information here... For now, I should just listen to the report.)* Riona flipped her memo over on her lap and gestured for him to continue. Ivan spread out the documents. --- There were three types of documents. First—a copy of an internal Prime Minister's office document. It had the form of an official record, but was addressed to multiple officials within the royal court. The date was fifteen years ago. Second—copies of anonymous letters that court officials were said to have received at the time. Collected from multiple families, the paper quality and handwriting differed for each. The content began with the heading "Regarding the Varmoon Duchy's Daughter." Third—this was the oldest. A handwritten memo dated more than fifteen years ago. "[serious]The handwriting in the memo matches that of Prime Minister Günther Heidemann. Verified against official documents," Riona took the documents. She read. —*I am concerned about the growing influence of the Varmoon Duchy. Political voice second only to the royal family could become a future destabilizing factor. I judge that impression manipulation within the court is the least damaging means of restraint. The target is the daughter—currently two years old. While awaiting her growth, before her future social debut, establish the evaluation of "arrogant and insidious" among court nobility. Early imprinting of preconceptions is effective.* — Riona's hand stopped. *(…Two years old.)* She couldn't move past that. The reputation of the villainess Anelia that Riona had seen over a hundred times in the game—arrogant, insidious, cruel to the heroine—all of it started from this single sheet of paper. From an age when Anelia hadn't even learned to speak, the Prime Minister had methodically built up this lie. The game's story was built on top of an image someone had intentionally created. "[serious]The rumors were already functioning before academy entrance. It's likely that most students held negative impressions of the daughter before even meeting her," While listening to Ivan continue in his matter-of-fact tone, Riona's hands trembled slightly. Anelia wasn't a villainess. She had been *made* into one. The difference spread slowly through her chest. Not warm, not cold, but something heavy and certain sinking into the center of her chest. *(The reason Anelia in the game broke down crying at the end was—)* She started to think, then stopped herself. Now wasn't the time to cry. Riona placed the documents on her lap and took a deep breath. "[serious]…How credible is the evidence?" "[serious]Regarding the Prime Minister's office official documents and handwriting verification, the accuracy is high. However, to use this copy as evidence, we'll need to confirm the original," "[serious]The original is in the Prime Minister's office," "[serious]Presumably," A short silence fell. Wind blew through the courtyard. The dry scent of herbs drifted, and for a moment Riona felt her left shoulder was slightly warm—though it might have been her imagination. That was when it happened. "—Excuse me!" A lower-year student in academy uniform came running from the courtyard entrance. Out of breath. "[serious]There's a delivery for Crest Ivan, senpai. A formal letter from the Prime Minister's office...," They held out an envelope and bowed deeply. Ivan accepted it. The wax seal bore the Prime Minister's office crest—the same crest visible on the uniform chest that had disappeared into the corridor shadow two days ago. After the lower-year student ran off, Ivan opened the seal. Riona watched Ivan's eyes. The calm, silver pupils—froze, just for an instant. "[serious]…I'll read it," Ivan read the letter aloud. "To Varmoon Duchy Daughter Anelia: Regarding the birthmark on your left shoulder, which we recognize as physical evidence of private misuse of the power of the star god Ferias, we hereby declare the commencement of an investigation into charges of illegal star stone use. The investigation will be conducted in public form at the Royal Crescent Academy Grand Hall three days hence. Prime Minister Günther Heidemann." Silence. The wind stopped. The courtyard herbs swayed faintly. Riona blinked once. *(…Three days. Academy Grand Hall. Public investigation. Illegal star stone use. Left shoulder birthmark.)* Her mind ran through all her game knowledge at full speed. Starlight Romance, all routes, twelve complete playthroughs. This event— Didn't exist. Not in any route, not in any hidden event. The moment the Hall of Judgment was overturned, the game's scenario was already finished. Everything from here on was completely unknown. *(Complete improvisation. And only three days.)* "[serious]The Prime Minister judged the Hall of Judgment reversal as a miscalculation, then," "[serious]That's my assessment. Even if the breakdown was genuine remorse, a politician's judgment is separate. This time he's coming at us directly with institutions and public authority," Ivan continued while carefully refolding the letter. His voice remained quiet, but the fingers holding the letter were tensing slightly. Riona watched those fingertips. "[serious]We can counter with the evidence we've gathered. However—," "[serious]Three days is short," "[serious]…Yes," There was a moment like gritted teeth. There was another problem. Riona understood that too. If a public investigation format is used, the moment Anelia stands in the Grand Hall—even if her innocence is proven later—the impression of "a daughter under investigation" will spread throughout the court. If the Prime Minister's specialty is imprinting bad rumors, that must be one of his goals this time as well. Riona stared at the courtyard's stone pavement. *(What do I do. What can I do.)* --- Less than ten minutes later, gold came flying into the courtyard. "Anelia!!" It was Filsenia Arnold. Out of breath. His aquamarine eyes were bloodshot, his cheeks slightly flushed. He'd been crying again. It was lunchtime, yet he held nothing in his hands. He'd completely abandoned his meal. "[serious]I heard about the letter!! I'm going to petition Father right now!!" "[cold]That would be inadvisable," Ivan's voice was quiet. Arnold turned to face him. "[serious]His Majesty the King has been under the Prime Minister's influence for years. If you petition now, the information reaches the Prime Minister immediately. You'd only be giving him time to dispose of the evidence we have," "[angry]Then what can I do!!" "[serious]We organize the evidence and prepare the arrangements for the investigation day. Your Highness should simply not leave Anelia's side. That's all," Arnold's brows drew together sharply. "[serious]I have the will to protect Anelia too. It's not just about being nearby," "[cold]Willpower won't move the investigation's deadline," "[angry]So you're saying it's emotional reasoning," "[serious]Not saying—it is," "You—!!" The two faced off. Arnold stepped forward; Ivan didn't retreat an inch. Aquamarine and silver eyes glared at each other at close range. Riona, standing beside them, felt the word *(pinch)* repeating in her mind as she looked between them alternately. *(Hey. There's a public investigation in three days. This is not the time for this.)* In the flower bed, a small bird pecked at an herb stem without a care. Peaceful. The situation was anything but peaceful. Both Arnold and Ivan turned toward Riona at almost the same moment. "'I'll protect her'" They said it in unison. Perfect unison. Both realized it and looked at each other again. Glared again. Riona put her hand to her forehead. "[serious]…Both of you, please calm down a little," She managed to keep her voice gentle. But she could feel the tension in her brow. --- Arnold left to "gather materials for strategy" a short while later. He said he was going to get law books from the court library, and his departing back was completely switched into action mode. Riona had learned over these three days that despite being tearful, he moved fast once he got going. Only Riona and Ivan remained in the courtyard. The wind blew again. The scent of herbs drifted past. Ivan carefully refolded the documents he'd gathered. His profile remained composed. But—his ears were still red. More red than before, it seemed. "[serious]…The Prime Minister set the investigation three days out to eliminate our time to prepare," Riona said nothing and listened. "[serious]Even so, it's not futile. There are things we can do in three days," His voice was quiet. But the fingers holding the documents were tensing the same way as before. Fingers that had been moving constantly since the Hall of Judgment, Riona thought. How much had Ivan moved to gather the documents he'd brought here? Collecting letter copies from multiple court families, verifying handwriting, making photocopies—all done in the two weeks since the Hall of Judgment. "[gentle]…Why are you doing so much for me," The words came out before she could stop them, and Riona felt a slight regret. If she were to behave properly as Anelia, there might have been a more refined way to phrase it. But what was said was said. Ivan stopped moving. One second. Two seconds. Then he looked away. "[serious]Because that's my job," He said it shortly. His ears reached their peak redness. Riona thought *(this person is bad at lying)*. At the same time, warmth spread through her chest. A sensation she couldn't quite name. Different from her feelings toward Arnold, different from her gratitude toward Clara. Something more— *(Don't think about it. Not now.)* There was the problem three days away. Nothing could begin until they got through that. Riona faced forward. Beyond the courtyard's stone pavement, she could see the Grand Hall building. Three days from now, that would be the battlefield. "[serious]How do we secure the original evidence," "[serious]I'm considering it. Requesting it through official channels at the Prime Minister's office would give them time to act.