<You wouldn’t stand to see me do that to Reid given his personality, so Reid should do it... Wait a moment.>

Agnes gasped.

<...Isn’t the princess his older half-sister?>

“Hmm hmm.”

I answered with a cough instead.

[‘The Cliché Gourmet’ salivates over the spicy messy elements.]

[‘The Scales Judging the Soul’ angrily warns not to drag our male lead into weird territory.]

“So, we just passed on that.”

Since I seemed to have made enough potions, I decided to start cooking.

I planned to bake not only emergency rations to store in the inventory but also sweet cookies to cheer Reid up.

I took out the dough I had prepared earlier and chose cookie cutters. Somehow, I was drawn to a fish shape.

“By the way, since we’re talking about Princess Celested—frankly, it’s a relief she was deposed.”

<True. Reid will probably turn the palace upside down soon anyway, so it’s better for her to be excluded from the succession battle and avoid the firestorm.>

“That, and...”

<What else?>

“She’ll be an enemy to Bianca.”

<Ah! Right, [N O V E L I G H T] our Bianca!>

Bianca supports Celested; I support Reid. So a confrontation between us will naturally arise.

[‘The Eye Watching the Chaos of All Things’ squeezes out the sorrow of two opposing factions!]

Political fights are dirty. It’s unimaginable having to use schemes and trickery while wallowing in the mud.

“How could I fight Bianca?”

She’s a precious friend.

<Right, don’t fight. You’d lose in scheming.>

“That’s true, too.”

I admitted that neatly.

[‘The Eye Watching the Chaos’ watches you approvingly.]

I put the fish-shaped cookie dough into the oven and checked my pocket watch while waiting.

The smell of cheese, chocolate, and Earl Grey cookies baking already tickled my nose with a nutty sweetness.

<Bianca is still trapped in the viscount’s townhouse, right?>

“Yes. Since Princess Celested was deposed, the entire viscount’s household has been under an indefinite ban on contact.”

<Must be frustrating. Let’s conquer Winchester Kingdom quickly so we can free our Bianca.>

“Yes!”

I clenched my fists wearing oven mitts.

Actually, according to our plan, it wouldn’t take long.

‘At the upcoming Raviosa Queen’s birthday banquet.’

That’s when we plan to make our move.

✠

I took the well-baked fish cookies out of the oven to cool and delicately drew scales with pure white icing stitch by stitch.

“How’s this, Agnes? Think Reid will like them?”

<He’d like it if you put them in a net that looks like a fishing trap.>

“Oh, thanks for the great idea.”

After various baking and tidying the kitchen, time had flown by. Looking out the window, the sunset spilled over the colorful rooftops of the commercial district.

“Reid’s not back yet? The sun’s about to set.”

[‘The Scales Judging the Soul’ widens its eyes, insisting no overnight stay can be allowed.]

Fortunately, the Scales’s worry was unfounded.

I heard footsteps upstairs. The third floor, formerly an inn, was now our shared quarters, so I knew who it was.

<If you’re coming, at least say ‘I’m back’ first.>

I laughed off Agnes’s grumbling and took some simple food. Knowing Reid’s personality, he had probably been starving.

Carrying a tray with savory clam chowder, sandwiches, and the special fish cookies, I went upstairs.

Through a slightly open door, I saw Reid sitting on the couch. His hands were clasped, staring blankly into the air, lost in thought.

Hmm, something feels off about the mood.

“Reid?”

“......”

No response even as I approached—definitely something was wrong.

I had noticed his mood was poor these past few days, but I’d never seen him so low-spirited.

Had something happened when we were apart?

I put down the tray on the table and sat beside Reid. The couch slightly sank next to me, seeming to awaken his mind, and he began to open up.

“I was going to just act as regent moderately, but it turned out like this.”

“......”

“Since I’ve made up my mind, I’m going to shake up the royal family properly. Luckily, I have the means.”

“......”

“I’ve endured a thousand years, so this much should be fine, right?” 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

A question unlike Reid’s usual self, sounding a bit dependent. Of course, my answer was set.

“Of course. That’s why you’re conquering the world, right?”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“......If this were the 17th cycle who endured stupidly, he wouldn’t do this.”

No intention to respond to that ambiguous insult or comparison.

“Stop bashing the 17th cycle. To me, he’s you and you’re him.”

“......”

Reid, who had been staring into space, turned his head toward me. He looked like he’d heard an unexpected answer after a long gaze.

He slowly opened his mouth. Since he disliked the 17th cycle, I thought he’d argue after being insulted.

“Ai.”

“Hmm.”

Drawn by that naturally commanding voice, I listened.

“Interested in being queen?”

“......Why bring that up suddenly?”

“I heard you don’t want to be queen.”

“Well, you can’t kill all the royals. Including yourself.”

[‘The Wordsmith Who Builds the World’ sarcastically says that with your mental state, you’ll gladly have your head chopped off.]

[‘The Scales Judging the Soul’ very much likes the romantic interpretation.]

“I’m fine with it. But you have to do the chopping yourself......”

I freaked out.

“I won’t! And keep that question to yourself. I haven’t lifted the curse yet.”

“Okay.”

“Oh, and don’t imagine romantic world destruction scenarios.”

“......”

Reid gave a bitter smile and corrected his posture.

I sighed inwardly.

Reid seemed a bit unstable compared to usual. The reason was...

“What’s that?”

I spotted a suspicious object on the table where I’d put the tray.

Reid wasn’t staring into space. He was looking at a specific object.

It was a glass bottle crafted as delicately as a perfume bottle, clearly not made by human hands.

Probably a special potion obtained in the dungeon, but it was suspiciously empty.

“Reid, what did you drink?”

“Oh, this.”

Reid answered lazily, his expression slack.

“Memory loss recovery potion.”

“What?!”

“I have no childhood memories from before becoming a stigmatized vessel.”

“So you recovered the memory of being kidnapped by zealots?”

“Yes.”

“Also memories about Rigares and Queen Raviosa?”

“Yes. To know the enemy, you must know yourself.”

“......”

I was speechless.

No, is he really......

“You okay?”

“Yes.”

“......”

“No.”

He changed his answer. The latter was probably the true feeling.

I was angry and pained. He had self-abused when I wasn’t looking. Or was still doing so. Memories would return slowly.

Sure enough, his red eyes were unfocused.

“My younger brother... mother...”

“......”

“So that cute boy and that gentle woman... are my...”

Family.

Before becoming the stigmatized vessel, he was the beloved eldest son and brother. And he gave back the love he received.

So much so that when kidnapped by zealots, he escaped even risking the hatred of his little brother and sacrificing himself. Though he was very young.

Reid says it’s to know the enemy, but that’s wrong. Memory isn’t a mere list of facts but a reconstruction of facts painted with emotions.

Reid. No, Tesilid Arzent.

Given his personality, how could he not be affected by those memories?

The memories of the pain inflicted by them mixed with memories of loving them long ago, turning into a chaotic mess.

“Reid, you...”

I had to take a breath to sound like my usual self.

“You’re a returning time traveler, so you already carry too many memories. You have enough memories you must bear alone.”

“......Ai?”

“So there’s no need to pile on more painful memories, so why—”

My voice rose.

“Why don’t you cherish yourself?”

“......”

In the end, I failed to speak normally. Reid was the one struggling now, but I unknowingly spoke with reproach.

He looked at me quietly again.

“Am I getting scolded now?”

He definitely wasn’t in a position to insult the 17th cycle.

His dull retort was foolish. So I couldn’t leave it alone.

I reached out with both hands and hugged his head tightly, pulling him close.

Despite having a large, solid man’s body, he rested his face on my shoulder without any resistance.

“......”

“......”

For a long while, we shared warmth. Perhaps the gentle heat helped, as a steadier voice came.

“I don’t think this is a scolding.”

“Comfort.”

“Whether sympathy or whatever, it’s too sweet. I’ll keep acting pitiful and weak.”