Chapter 558

“I am honored you think so.”

I gave his response little more than a passing glance, casually surveying the room as I asked, “I am curious what this is all about.”

“As you can see.”

Abraham swept his outstretched hand to the side in a wide circle as he continued, “I broke the glass.”

“Why?”

“I was curious about something. And grateful, too.”

Nothing but useless nonsense. I leaned back in my chair and watched him. If he wasn’t going to talk, I could wait until he did. Instead, I started piecing things together, though I’d already made a rough assessment.

He hadn’t slicked back his hair with oil, as he would have if he’d had any engagements outside today. As I’d noticed earlier, he also favored practicality in his clothing. His cuffs and collar weren’t detachable. They were all one piece. That was unusual these days, when most people wore shirts assembled from separate parts.

In other words, he’d spent the entire day here smashing glass. What a waste of time. I couldn’t understand what he was trying to accomplish.

I studied the skin on his forearm, which hadn’t fully healed yet. I could still picture the stinging, lemon-yellow mana that had spilled from his split skin and ruptured blood vessels.

“Do you think Prussia needs to give its permission?”

Abraham asked with a smile, having noticed me watching him. Only then did I turn my gaze to his bright eyes.

“Your Highness seems to be under a misconception. You have no say in the matter. Not if you are the Crown Prince of Prussia.”

“Then I do have a choice. In any case, it is almost pitiful. You don’t like my little surprise, so—”

“So I returned the favor twofold. What do you think of that?”

I leaned forward, tilting my body toward him as I looked up at him from slightly below.

“You must like it. You like everything I do, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

Abraham raised an eyebrow as he said it. His face held nothing but amusement. He tucked the staff under his arm and draped his other arm over the back of the sofa.

“Isn’t it a good thing? It wasn’t just the middle-aged and older generations who were deeply shocked by your bold performance in front of everyone and came to see it in a positive light. The students in their teens were even more moved than I had expected. There are countless more children like my younger brother now…”

I fell silent and sighed. Just as Adelbert regarded Nikolaus Ernst as a hero, Prussian students had taken a liking to me for refusing to back down in the face of every hardship, all in the name of ‘chivalry.’ At least, that was how the letters I’d received put it.

It wasn’t a bad thing. If anything, it was a good thing. But that still didn’t mean the press should be steering public opinion in that particular direction.

“Thanks to me, you got to see your popularity among the students skyrocket. Then, burning with the urge to outdo me, you even flew all the way to Bavaria and kindly dropped this enormous bombshell on Prussia. Five thousand tons, no less. Truly impressive diplomatic work. And I was quite moved by the Papal See’s resolve to join forces in driving Prussia into the ground. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have pushed them to secure that much, either. So don’t you think it’s time you thanked me for giving you the incentive?”

“Not many people can spout such nonsense with so much confidence. Talking to you is entertaining, Your Highness.”

“And I have a question for you, too. Weren’t you the one who asked to meet in the first place? I carved time out of my busy schedule to meet you, and yet you haven’t said a word. Instead, you are acting as though I am the one who should have something to say.”

Abraham muttered indifferently, sucking on his pipe as though he hadn’t heard a word I’d said. He repeatedly ran one hand over the platinum staff, looking as if he’d rather be smashing more glass. Bored, he slowly tapped the shaft with his fingertips.

“I am asking why you pulled that little surprise. I know you are more than happy to score an own goal for Prussia, but…”

“Hmm.”

Only then did Abraham smile. With his head tilted back and his chin raised, he looked down at me as I continued.

“Don’t we share the same goal of eliminating the Pleroma? I may be happy to see Prussia brought down, but wouldn’t dragging me down in the process get in the way of your own goal?”

“No particular reason. I merely reported the facts. It seems you still don’t realize just how popular you have become with teenage girls.”

“You are still dodging the question. Changing the subject to avoid the heart of the matter might work on other people, but it won’t work on me.”

“Oh, they were quite passionate about it. ‘When everyone suspected that Lord Askanien would drink blood, you showed your mettle by drinking it yourself. I was deeply impressed by your resolve. For the first time, your eyes no longer seemed like the mark of a bloodsucker, but like cherry blossoms heralding the arrival of spring.’ She said she liked it, so naturally, I had to include that sentiment in the article.”

I glared at him as he recited the letter word for word. Abraham tilted his head with a gentle smile, wearing an expression that seemed to ask what the problem was.

“And I even made sure they used a good photo. What is there to complain about?”

“It is a shame I wasn’t photographed wearing my Eszett uniform.”

For the first time, Abraham looked genuinely taken aback—or at least pretended to be. He narrowed his eyes and raised the corners of his mouth.

“Ah, no. If you are trying to confuse me, don’t bother. I can’t tell whether you are disappointed that you couldn’t beat me through strategic visual media, or whether you truly have no eye for aesthetics. If it is the latter, there is no need to be disappointed. As it happens, you are wearing something that photographs well. Did someone happen to tell you that you would be having your picture taken today?”

He continued, looking me over.

“And if it is the former, then don’t worry. Be pleased with yourself. You chose exactly the clothes I wanted, as if our brains were connected. Thanks to you, I got just the impression I was aiming for.”

Every image is a strategy. Clothes that photograph well—that was what he meant by the words he’d glossed over. The cool-toned top in analogous colors, accented by the complementary color of my irises, made the overall image look harmonious while ensuring I stood out in the photograph. He was right. That was what made this different from my political photographs in the past, which had used low camera angles and dark colors to project gravitas.

The main reason people praised the front-page photo in the yellow paper was that the accent colors worked well with the tone-on-tone palette, where differences in brightness added depth. For me, however, these two layers of contrast made it difficult to convey a sense of freedom and individuality within the frame. Those qualities were desirable in a teenager, but not in a politician. If I’d worn my Eszett uniform today, with its colors analogous to my eyes but in different tones, I would have looked stuffy, and the impression created by my eyes would have been overshadowed. Instead of freshness or coolness, the image would have conveyed stability. That was why the color scheme of the Eszett uniform would have aligned well with the image the Association sought to project. Today, however, the opposite was true. And that was precisely what Abraham was thanking me for.

It wasn’t anything special. In an industry that exploited psychology, the intention was supposed to remain invisible. Whatever you wore for a photograph, people should intuitively feel its effect without consciously recognizing the intent behind it. I could analyze it this way because I’d worked in that industry and was personally attuned to the messages people tried to convey through their appearance. Most people wouldn’t give such things much thought. Yet Abraham was telling me how lucky I was that this seemingly trivial intention had worked out exactly as he’d hoped.

Whenever he showed this kind of insight, I couldn’t help thinking he was rotten to the core. Propaganda that exploited imagery and aesthetics was a strategy whose time had yet to come, yet he already understood its potential without ever having experienced it himself. He had the exact mindset and methods of someone who sought to manipulate people’s psychology in subtle, everyday ways, without anyone noticing. As though he were destined to become one of the pioneers who would usher in the history of 20th century propaganda.

I looked down at the black trousers and low-saturation, silk-textured burgundy jacket I’d changed into since morning. I had no intention of taking his bait.

“I didn’t think you had much of an eye for aesthetics, but you do have a good eye.”

“Haha. Did I seem lacking in aesthetic sensibility?”

“I have never been interested enough to consider that, so I couldn’t say… But still…”

Just looking at the state of the room’s interior was enough to tell me what kind of person I was dealing with. People unfamiliar with putting things together often played it safe by keeping most elements, including colors, within the same family, without considering differences in contrast, texture, or area. If they ventured a little further, they tended to rely only on conventional, tried-and-true contrasts.

This room, on the other hand, was bold in its choice of colors, yet the greens outside and the reds of the furniture were similar in tone, and the proportion of red was just right. The only drawback was that the furnishings consisted of nothing but a glass trolley, a glass table, and sofas. With so much white space, the room almost looked like a hospital. But at least, in Abraham’s mind, that was probably exactly what it was meant to resemble. A hospital for correcting people’s minds, or something of the sort.

I glanced around before asking, “I think I have a rough idea. So, what is this place?”

“As you can see.”

Abraham flicked his hand.

“A room for educating people.”

“Barbaric.”

“Progressive. Now, say hello. This is the editor-in-chief of the Imperial Dailies.”

He walked over to the chair and tilted the sleeping man’s head back. The nerve of telling me to greet someone who was asleep… I glanced at the shards of glass scattered underfoot, then gave Abraham a disapproving look. As if recalling what had just happened, Abraham said, “We were having tea here.”

Perhaps he’d read the feelings in my eyes, because he shrugged and said, “I haven’t even used my ability, just as I promised you. If you are so concerned, why not try it yourself?”

He held out his staff to me. He had made the glass ornaments on the trolley float in midair. I suspected he intended to shock the senses while implanting whatever information he wanted. Rather than using an ability, it was a form of brainwashing in its most primitive form. Once the process was over, the editor-in-chief would shudder whenever he heard about certain people or news. I could only hope my imagination wasn’t being too mild.

I glanced at the staff and replied indifferently.

“No.”

“Couldn’t I implant some useful suggestions in your subconscious that might prove useful to you when you go out into the world?”

“Sometimes, I wonder if you are capable of doing anything remotely human.”

“That is what makes me human.”

“It is nice to see you take such pride in that.”

I checked my watch as I spoke.

“I must have been out of my mind to come here hoping we could have a productive conversation. You don’t seem likely to stop your media campaign, and you don’t appear to have any intention of containing the damage that’s already been done, either.”

Still staring at my watch, I moved only my eyes toward Abraham, who stood in front of the metal chair.

“Am I wrong?”

If he admitted I was right, or tried to derail the conversation with more nonsense, I would leave immediately and prepare a second operation in Bavaria. I’d thwarted his first attempt, but that didn’t guarantee there wouldn’t be a second. Unless Abraham rescinded his orders, the tabloids could plaster my face across their front pages for days, provided no bigger story came along.

“Let’s go out, then.”

I raised an eyebrow. Abraham swung his staff, transforming it into a wand, then tossed it carelessly onto the glass trolley as if it didn’t belong to him. As he stepped over the shattered glass covering the floor, he glanced back at me.

“It is an imperial order. And you are dressed appropriately this time.”

Before long, we reached the carriage. I let Abraham, who had brought me all the way here without giving me a chance to ask a single question, board first. Then, still standing on the ground, I asked again, “Where are we going?”

“Why should you care?”

At Abraham’s casual wave, his attendants carefully ushered me toward the carriage. I went along with them, wanting to find out what he had in mind.

As the carriage began moving toward the palace gates, Abraham opened the window halfway down its length and spoke leisurely to the coachman.

“Victoria Lyceum.”

That was enough to make his plan clear. I raised one corner of my mouth in a smirk and was about to rub my fingers together when Abraham caught me by the wrist.

The moving carriage vanished, and my body came to an abrupt halt. The scenery before me changed, and a breeze swept past.

Abraham chided me.

“You don’t appreciate the effort I am making.”

I was about to retort, “Why should I care?” but the students and faculty lined up in front of the main gate stared at us in bewilderment as we appeared out of nowhere.

Apparently, Abraham had contacted Victoria Lyceum in advance to tell them we were coming. If he’d made preparations beforehand, I couldn’t help wondering what he intended to make me do here.

I glanced at the Victoria Lyceum building and straightened up. This was a Christian girls’ school. I couldn’t say for certain why Abraham had dragged me to a girls’ school, but it would be a lie to claim that his little stunt with the yellow papers had nothing to do with it.

Despite the crowd lined up before us, the person in charge still hadn’t shown up. That was probably because Abraham had warped here before the appointed time, without so much as a thought for proper etiquette. Feeling several stinging gazes on me for some reason, I looked up—and met the eyes of countless high school girls leaning out of the windows of the building beyond the main gate. They all wore dark uniforms, their hair braided and swept back.

Beside me, Abraham whispered with interest.

“Even after seeing this, are you going to insist the article was false? No one thinks it got anything wrong.”

“I told you that was changing the subject.”

Even if they didn’t think the article was wrong, that was still a problem. The students were watching me so intently for one reason and one reason only: I was a celebrity who had been branded a bloodsucker until yesterday. I’d be staring at me, too, if I were them.

I still had to be a politician. Even if young students like the ones who’d sent me love letters felt favorably toward me, that was a personal matter. It shouldn’t have become news and steered public opinion in that direction. That was the whole point. And yet this bastard knew that better than anyone, and still made me explain it all over again. Getting under people’s skin like this was his specialty, so I’d grown used to brushing it off. I didn’t answer and waited for the person in charge to arrive.

Abraham, meanwhile, seemed not to care in the slightest what I did—or didn’t do. Come to think of it, we always seemed to be walking our own separate paths. He looked over the crowd and whispered, “The students’ faces are bright and cheerful, but the teachers’ expressions when they look at you are quite something.”

I’d noticed that, too. It wasn’t hard to tell nervousness from unease. The teachers at this school were looking at me with a certain discomfort. It was probably because they were responsible for keeping the girls in line. They seemed worried I might start acting like a Herzensbrecher around their students and disrupt the school’s discipline. I wanted to ask them if they seriously thought that made any sense…

But in a conservative society like this one, especially at a Christian girls’ school, such wariness wasn’t unreasonable. The teachers had already heard about the yellow-paper scandal that had been making the rounds since lunchtime. With practically every Prussian tabloid running the story, it would have been harder not to hear about it.

If they’d encountered me before the news broke, they probably would have regarded me as a promising youth, much like any other ordinary Prussian adult would. They wouldn’t be looking at me with this same wariness now. I didn’t want to see the school’s discipline slip, either, so I would have liked to reassure the teachers that I had no intention of causing a stir among Prussian students and give them some support. But I couldn’t say anything just yet.

One thing was certain: because of those ridiculous articles, these teachers now saw me as someone they needed to keep an eye on. They weren’t exactly hostile toward me as they had been before, but there was no harm in watching them, either.

Just then, a woman who appeared to be the principal hurried over from behind, clutching her skirt, and bowed.

“Your Imperial Highness. I am Christine Lehmann, the principal of this school.”

“Pleased to meet you, Ms. Lehmann.”

The crown prince greeted her leisurely, wearing his usual affable smile.

Even as the principal bent her knees in a slight curtsy, she shot me a brief, disapproving glance. Then she looked away as though she were staring at some brat who still had milk on his lips. All of this was done beneath gestures and smiles that were more polite than necessary, to the point that calling out her rudeness would itself have seemed rude. By contrast, she looked considerably more welcoming toward the crown prince.

Abraham had already stepped into the corridor and was waiting for me with a smile. As I passed him, he cast a soundproofing spell and spoke.

“This high school also serves as a rehabilitation and recovery facility for Rampagers. The administration is Lutheran. A few of the teachers are both doctors and pastors, and they have been treating the patients with medicine using donated divine power artifacts.”

“I would have thought that was the government’s responsibility, not something to leave to private citizens. It is impressive how long they have managed to shirk it.”

“I quite agree.”

For once, Abraham shamelessly agreed with me.

Following the principal’s lead, we headed to the building beside the auditorium and entered through there. A dim corridor stretched before us. Even though I’d never been in this building before, I could tell from its layout where we were.

Behind the stage.

After we’d walked down the corridor, Abraham placed a hand on my shoulder in front of a door.

“So, with the help of our very own Sir Nikolaus Ernst, we are finally going to do something about it.”

“…….”

“We would like to make this the first center, but unfortunately, the Lutheran nationalist faction refuses to listen to a word we say.”

They were already helping Rampagers rehabilitate, yet they were refusing the government’s offer of support? And not just any government, but the Imperial Family? Lutherans and nationalists usually welcomed Prussia’s proposals with open arms. If even this initiative had run into resistance, there was bound to be some serious political reason behind it.

That bastard had brought me here to persuade them, despite knowing that the teachers at this girls’ school weren’t exactly fond of me. I gave him a crooked smile and waited to see what else he would come out with. Abraham rested his fingers on the doorknob, then pushed the door open slowly with a genial smile.

“So, our dear heartthrob… why don’t you step up and give it a try?”

Beyond the open doors, darkness and light met. Countless students and faculty members sat on the other side of the stage. The students and staff who had greeted us at the entrance had returned to the auditorium, filling the empty seats in the front rows. At the far end sat several people who appeared to be inspectors from the Prussian government and city councilors. Abraham gave me a shove forward, then leaned in from just behind me and whispered in my ear.

“If you are truly a politician, you should be able to stop being a pretty face with nothing else to offer and persuade even these hostile Lutheran nationalists. Wouldn’t you agree?”