Their time in Volten, naturally, didn't last long.
After all, in just a week, a victory celebration would be held in Evergard.
Isaac Logan, who had the greatest influence on this victory, had to attend, and of course, so did the princess, Clarice.
It had been a short but weighty time.
Especially the late-night conversation between Isaac and Silverna—word of it had reached the other women.
To them, it could be seen as hopeful—or, depending on how you looked at it, utterly despairing.
Inside the carriage heading back to Evergard.
Clarice spoke frankly to the other women.
"Life is truly ironic. Just when you think you've climbed over one mountain, another appears. They say life isn't a play—so even after the curtain falls, it continues. This is exactly like that."
Though they had stopped the enemy known as the Transcendents, the hardships and trials hadn't ended.
Everyone sighed in agreement with the princess's words.
"Huh?"
Only Sharen, eyes wide and sparkling, tilted her head curiously and raised her hand.
"Why? Didn't Isaac say he'd wait in Volten? Then can't we just sort things out and go back later?"
"..."
"He's not going to suddenly remarry someone else while we're gone, right? It's Isaac we're talking about!"
Was that innocence, or just foolishness?
Unable to judge, Silverna looked toward Sharen's sister. As if to say, 'She's your family—your call.'
Without much hesitation, Liana said:
"Sharen, read a book."
Liana had clearly categorized Sharen as an idiot.
"…I beat books."
"The fact that you're talking about beating books is already a problem. Books aren't something you win against, Sharen."
Just like last time, when she didn't understand the word regression—
Right now, Clarice was convinced Sharen needed education more than a greatsword.
"If you think about it the other way around—"
Clarice, wondering how to explain it in a way Sharen could understand.
"You can go see him anytime, yes—but you can't. That's what makes it cruel. Do you get that?"
"Oh?"
"Imagine a prison door is open, but you can't walk out. That's how frustrating it is."
"That's not a healthy metaphor."
"Well, the audience isn't exactly healthy, either."
Liana cut in, but Clarice had no intention of changing her metaphor.
She knew from experience—explaining things to Sharen never changed much.
"I am healthy!"
"See?"
Sharen's declaration of good health ironically proved Clarice's point—that she wasn't a healthy audience.
"Anyway, what I'm saying is—Isaac's a jerk. It's like having grapes right in front of you but not being allowed to eat them."
Muttering with her chin in hand, Silverna annoyedly kicked Isaac in the shin from across the carriage.
"Everything's great and all, but…"
With an exasperated expression, Isaac looked at the other women in the carriage.
"I'm right here, you know. And you're all talking like I'm not even present."
Normally, you'd have this kind of conversation when the person in question isn't around, wouldn't you?
That was Isaac's understanding of basic etiquette.
But clearly, none of the women had any intention of respecting it.
In fact, quite the opposite—
Among them, there was one who seemed particularly dissatisfied as she recalled Isaac's past words.
"..."
It was the Grandmaster.
She sat with her legs crossed and arms folded, glaring at Isaac.
She seemed upset about something, but said nothing. After a moment of hesitation, Isaac cautiously asked:
"Are you feeling unwell?"
"My mood is unwell."
She replied immediately, as if she'd been waiting for the question.
Seeing her ears perk up like that, Isaac began to reflect on what he might have done wrong.
"Haaah… Isaac."
"Yes, I'm listening, Master."
"Are you aware that people often fail to realize the worth of what's right beside them?"
"Yes, I'm well aware."
He knew it all too well.
Isaac was someone who had missed so many things even when they were right by his side.
That was the whole reason he'd come to Volten in the first place—and the same applied to the time he'd lost with Liana.
But ironically, his honest answer only seemed to irritate the Grandmaster even more.
"Then why is it that, among all those gathered around you—each and every one of them precious—you still fail to recognize the one with whom you could most easily be together?"
"..."
Isaac was a perceptive man.
Of course he understood—she was talking about herself.
"I thought it would be disloyal to harbor feelings toward my teacher."
To Isaac, the Grandmaster was in the same category as Sharen.
If Sharen was like a child to him and thus off-limits, the Grandmaster was his revered mentor.
To feel anything inappropriate toward her would be disrespectful.
He believed such feelings would tarnish the value of everything she had taught him.
Upon hearing his response, the Grandmaster slowly unfolded her arms. With a faint sigh and a small nod, she replied:
"Yes, I figured that's what you'd say."
She groped around as if looking for a drink, but all she found was her own tail resting on her lap—it was, after all, a carriage.
"Do you remember what you told me the night in Volten, when you first confessed your regression to me?"
They had shared so many conversations.
But Isaac immediately realized what the Grandmaster was referring to.
"You asked me then—if there was something you absolutely needed to know. If there was anything I regretted."
"Yes, that's right. And you answered me, Isaac. You told me to choose a partner in advance. That not doing so was one of your greatest regrets."
"That's right."
He didn't deny it.
But he had never thought she'd consider herself that person.
At some point, the Grandmaster's swaying tail silently slithered across the carriage floor and curled around Isaac's ankle.
"I have no name, no family name. All I hold in my hands is a single sword."
"That's what we call a beggar."
"..."
The Grandmaster froze.
Slowly turning her head, she found Clarice covering her mouth with a very polite smile.
"Just in case you didn't know."
"Wasn't the mood quite good just now?"
"Was it? I didn't notice."
Clarice shrugged.
The Grandmaster gave a small cough, clearly irritated, and turned back to Isaac with a serious expression.
"In any case, I can always be by your side. Precisely because I have nothing… I can be the one to hold on to you—"
"Back then—"
Liana, who had been blankly staring out the window, spoke to Silverna beside her.
"When we got married, there were a lot of rumors. Because Isaac had been a commoner, and he was marrying into the Helmut family."
"Oh, I remember. People called him a vile man who seduced a naïve blood rose just to improve his status."
Silverna had been at the wedding, so she knew all about it.
"Of course, we loved each other, so there was no real problem between us. But even then, gossip from the outside was unavoidable."
"Well, of course. That's something you accept when you decide to get married. Right, Isaac?"
"That's true…"
Isaac answered while sneaking a glance at the Grandmaster.
He knew the conversation had been flowing in a good direction, but the setting wasn't ideal.
Too many spectators.
The two women's gazes simultaneously turned toward the Grandmaster.
"Still, getting criticized is part of it."
"Especially when it looks like you're trying to secure your future by catching a man while having nothing of your own."
"Words really can be sharp. And if you're talking about Isaac, shouldn't it be 'catching a woman,' not a man?"
The Grandmaster pouted, clearly aware that the remarks were targeting her.
"At least Isaac gave a proper dowry."
Liana subtly showed the necklace around her neck. Hanging from it was the wedding ring Isaac had once traded for a Severance Ring.
"You proudly display the evidence of your divorce, huh?"
"Ahem."
Liana quickly looked out the window, her tail metaphorically tucked.
But unexpectedly, Silverna came to her defense.
"That still means he did something. That ring is proof that Isaac made an effort. What about you, Grandmaster? Do you have anything to show?"
"I'll have you know, I'm extremely beautiful, and full of feminine charm. As a mature woman—"
"That's just called aging."
Immediately, the Grandmaster turned and opened the small window connected to the coachman.
"Coachman, stop the carriage. I believe the weight is too much, and we'd be better off leaving one or two passengers behind."
"Uh… pardon?"
"Don't worry. I'll handle it quietly."
"Okay, that's enough now."
Isaac stepped in to mediate, sensing that they might actually throw someone out of the carriage.
"Alright, let's settle this."
Clarice, who had been listening, finally joined in. It seemed like there was something to be gained from this discussion.
"Isaac, do you have anything you desire? After all, you left the door open for us to come back to you. The least you could do is tell us what you want."
All eyes in the carriage turned to Isaac.
A hush fell, broken only by the soft creaking of the carriage as it rolled.
After a moment of thought, Isaac spoke, his voice carrying the awkwardness of a bashful young boy.
"If I say I love someone, I'd be content… if they simply said they love me back."
"..."
An even heavier, warmer silence filled the carriage.
Isaac didn't want anything else from a woman.
Even though he had divorced Liana, from the beginning, even during their marriage, he had always treated women this way.
In a way, his answer meant that Isaac the man… was finding his way back.
The cool, rational swordsman was slowly returning to the emotional, carefree oarsman he had been during times of peace.
And that was undeniably a good change.
The women, unsure how to respond, felt a complex yet shared emotion stir among them.
Then Sharen, who had been listening with a blank expression, raised her hand with a smile.
"I'm going to be the one who says 'I love you' before Isaac does!"
At Sharen's bright declaration, someone in the carriage murmured in admiration—
"…She's kind of clever."