The debate continued.
Rather than a debate, it was more like a one-sided accusation. Felt's earlier disrespectful act had provided an excellent point of attack, prompting questions about "knowledge and upbringing."
To Lillian, everyone acted out of self-interest. The monarchy had traditionally passed down through bloodlines, leaving no room for complaints. Now, choosing an unrelated individual to become king provoked discontent—many could not accept an unknown, poorly-educated blonde girl standing above them.
Especially when Reinhardt described how Felt had been found, the hall almost erupted.
"A slum orphan?! Reinhard von Astrea! In the royal selection to appoint the future ruler of Lugunica, you brought an orphan? What do you think the throne is?!"
Reinhard remained entirely calm, showing no reaction on his handsome, unflinching face. Few could maintain such composure while wielding unparalleled power. Most, including Lillian, would likely become capricious or violent if they possessed such might. Though not necessarily dictatorial, they certainly would not remain as mild-tempered as he was.
Among the council elders, only Miklotov regarded Philute seriously. After a moment, he said: "Has no one noticed? If Lady Felt has not realized this herself, perhaps you should question your own loyalty to the kingdom."
His words left many confused, all eyes turning toward Felt. One of them gasped after a moment: "Blonde hair and red eyes…!"
"Could it be—"
The civil and military officials all drew in a sharp breath. Reinhard, who had remained silent, spoke loudly: "Fourteen years ago, a thief infiltrated the city and abducted the daughter of Freud-sama, the late king's brother, and escaped. This led to the disbanding and reorganization of the Royal Guard."
The crowd murmured. If Felt truly possessed royal blood, the selection itself became meaningless—her ascension would be natural. Yet the Dragon God's will had been inscribed on the Dragon Insignia, so the competition must proceed…
"—This seems too coincidental." Some still doubted. "Hair can be dyed, and eyes can be altered with magic. Reinhard, you wouldn't stoop to such low tactics, would you?"
"I stake my sword."
Reinhard placed the sword from his waist onto the ground. This was the highest form of a knight's pledge, a gesture in this kingdom equivalent in significance to swearing an oath before the Divine Dragon.
Those who had been questioning fell silent. To continue doubting now would be a provocation against the entire Sword Saint family, and no one was ready to bear the consequences.
Yet the girl, Felt, who had always been the center of scrutiny, could no longer tolerate the judgmental gazes. She shouted, "I never said I wanted to be king! Reinhard dragged me here by force, and I've had enough of these clothes! Why should I care about you all? Let me go!"
Her outburst only confirmed what the ministers had already noted—that she lacked refinement—but now that Reinhard had vouched for her with his sword, no one dared to attack this "crown princess."
Still, just because they didn't dare, it didn't mean the other candidates felt the same. Priscilla, growing impatient, frowned at Felt's commotion and spoke up irritably: "How long are you going to babble? My time is valuable too."
She voiced her intentions without restraint: "The selection process requires five candidates. Everyone's here now, so let's get started. In the end, I will win anyway, so it doesn't matter who participates or not."
"Ha?" Felt, already fuming, was further inflamed by Priscilla's arrogance. She leaped to her side, glaring: "If you want a fight, I'm ready! My feet are fast enough to back it up!"
"How rude. Do you even know who you're speaking to?"
A wave of magical energy rippled through the air. Lillian, who had been studying magic for some time, could sense it clearly. But the one most affected was Roswaal, whose entire body radiated mana even while standing still—a testament to the power of [Divine Protection of the Sorcerer]. Mana naturally gathered around him, strengthening any magic he cast.
"Excuse me, Lady Priscilla."
Reinhard subtly countered the mana Priscilla was concentrating. Felt was gently scooped into Emilia's protective embrace.
"What are you doing in such an important moment!"
Priscilla dismissed Emilia's reproach. When Emilia tried to make her apologize, she retorted: "So, you think making mistakes always requires an apology? Then by that logic, you should be apologizing for being born, Silver-Haired Half-Elf."
"I… I have nothing to do with the Witch."
"That's irrelevant. You embody the forbidden in this world. People fear and despise you at first sight. Isn't that why you need that tattered cloak to hide your form?"
Emilia was struck silent by Priscilla's words. Objectively speaking, Priscilla wasn't wrong—being seen as the embodiment of a jealous witch was a sin Emilia could not escape. No defense could change it; only actions could prove her worth. This was one reason she wanted to become king. Without doing so, her entire life would be spent hiding behind that magical cloak, enduring constant torment whenever she went out.
Lillian looked at Emilia with sympathy. She had done nothing wrong. Even if she saw him as a villain, he would not be angry; he knew it was proof of her strong sense of justice. Moreover, he glanced at Subaru behind her, whose face was dark with suppressed anger and distress.
In this room, four of the five candidates had strong protectors. Only Emilia had no one speaking for her. For Lillian, it was a building storm of frustration, though his way of handling it wasn't perfect. Yet doing nothing was not an option—it would serve no one.
"Hey." He turned to Subaru. "Are you alright?"
"…Ah, Lillian… yeah, I'm fine." Subaru, caught off guard by someone speaking to him, blinked. A fraction of his anger faded, but after two seconds he muttered, "This is too much."
"Do you mean Priscilla's words?"
"Her words… and the others' attitudes."
"Objectively, you must know there's nothing wrong with what she said, right?"
"…Yes. I understand, but I can't accept it. It's… completely baseless slander!"
Subaru spoke his true feelings. Lillian understood. If the upcoming campaign speeches went as expected, he probably wouldn't be able to restrain himself.
"Exactly. Baseless slander. It's wrong. But I suppose Emilia has grown used to it. Afterwards, you and Rem—"
"Rem?" Subaru looked puzzled. "Lillian, are you close to Rem?"
"No. Didn't she come with you?"
"No, only Emilia and I came to the capital."
Lillian paused, realization dawning. Of course—the Magical Beast Forest incident had been his doing, so Rem had not shown her powers. Her relationship with Subaru was not as close as it had seemed, and she had not fallen in love with him. This meant that the sequence of events ahead would change drastically. The disasters, the archbishops… everything.
"What's wrong?" Subaru asked, seeing Lillian lost in thought. Lillian shook his head lightly. "Nothing… just thinking."
Nothing, indeed. Without Rem, Subaru would likely fall into a deadly loop, dragging Emilia along. If his personality collapsed, it would spell catastrophe for Lillian. He could not allow events to unfold that way.