The aftermath of the Mabeast attack changed things.
Ayanokoji noticed it in the way the guards looked at him now—with respect instead of suspicion.
He noticed it in the way the servants spoke to him—with deference instead of distance.
And he noticed it in the way Emilia watched him, her amethyst eyes holding a new depth of consideration.
But most importantly, he noticed it in Roswaal.
The Margrave had stopped treating him as a curiosity and started treating him as a player.
Their conversations became more substantive, more probing.
Roswaal began asking his opinions on political matters, testing his analytical skills, gauging his strategic thinking.
It was a dangerous dance.
Every answer Ayanokoji gave revealed something about his capabilities, his knowledge, his potential.
But it also gave him insight into Roswaal’s mind, his goals, his weaknesses.
He’s brilliant, Ayanokoji admitted to himself.
But he’s also arrogant.
He assumes he’s the smartest person in the room.
That’s a vulnerability I can exploit.
Two weeks after the attack, Emilia summoned him to her private chambers.
It was the first time she had done so, and Ayanokoji understood the significance.
She was testing the waters, deciding whether to trust him with something more.
He found her sitting by the window, her silver hair glowing in the afternoon light.
Puck was curled in her lap, his tiny form rising and falling with each breath.
She looked tired, the weight of her responsibilities visible in the shadows under her eyes.
“Ayanokoji,” she said, gesturing to a chair across from her.
“Please, sit.”
He complied, his posture relaxed but alert.
“You wanted to speak with me?”
“I did.” She took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for something difficult.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said when we first met.
About how you’re not a good person, and how you only care about your own survival.”
“I remember.”
She met his eyes, her gaze earnest.
“I’ve been watching you these past few weeks.
You work harder than anyone in the mansion.
You study constantly, you train relentlessly, you analyze everything.
“Those things are distractions,” Ayanokoji said.
“They don’t contribute to security or survival.”
“Exactly.” Emilia leaned forward, her expression intense.
“You’re driven by something pure.
A focus that I’ve never seen in anyone else.
And I think…
I think that focus could be the key to winning the Selection.”
Ayanokoji considered this.
“You’re saying you want me to be more than just an advisor.
You want me to be your strategist.
Your planner.
The one who shapes your campaign.”
“I’m saying I want you to be my partner in this.” Emilia’s voice was soft, but there was steel beneath it.
“Roswaal is my sponsor, but he has his own agenda.
I trust him, but I know he doesn’t tell me everything.
The other candidates have their own advisors, their own networks.
I need someone who is solely focused on my success.
Someone who sees the game clearly and isn’t clouded by emotion or ambition.”
She paused, her eyes searching his face.
“I need someone like you, Ayanokoji.
And I’m asking—no, I’m hoping—that you’ll accept that role.”
Ayanokoji was silent for a long moment.
This was a significant development.
Emilia was offering him a position of real power, a chance to shape the future of the kingdom from behind the scenes.
It was exactly the kind of opportunity he had been working toward.
But it also came with risks.
The closer he got to Emilia, the more dangerous his position became.
Her enemies would target him.
Her allies would scrutinize him.
And Roswaal…
Roswaal would see him as a potential rival for influence.
I need to be careful about how I respond, he thought.
I need to accept her offer without appearing too eager. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
And I need to establish the terms of our partnership clearly.
“I have conditions,” he said finally.
Emilia blinked, surprised.
“Conditions?”
“First, I need complete access to information.
No secrets, no hidden agendas.
If I’m going to strategize effectively, I need to know everything about your situation—your strengths, your weaknesses, your enemies, your allies.
I can’t work in the dark.”
Emilia nodded slowly.
“That’s…
fair.
What else?”
“Second, I need autonomy.
I won’t ask permission for every decision.
If I see an opportunity or a threat, I’ll act on it.
I’ll inform you of my actions, but I won’t be micromanaged.”
“That’s also fair.
Anything else?”
Ayanokoji hesitated.
This was the difficult part.
“Third, I need you to trust me.
Not blindly, but with an open mind.
There will be times when my methods seem cold or ruthless.
There will be times when I make decisions that you don’t understand.
I need you to give me the benefit of the doubt, at least until the results are clear.”
Emilia was quiet for a long moment.
Then she smiled, a small, sad expression.
“You’re asking me to trust someone who openly admits he’s not a good person.”
“Yes.”
She looked down at Puck, who was still sleeping peacefully.
“You know, Puck said something interesting about you.
He said your soul is like a frozen lake—still and deep and cold.
But he also said there’s something at the bottom of that lake.
Something you keep hidden”.