In this world there exists only one nation: the Empire.

  It has existed for centuries, having conquered the world so long ago that most don't even know how things were before. The old kingdoms, the independent territories—all of it is just history now. Forgotten history, for most people.

  That's not to say the Empire is stable. Civil war has erupted on multiple occasions throughout its history. The most recent one led to the current structure of Celestia Academy. Not as a normal magical academy like the others, but as an entity unto itself, so powerful that its mere existence discourages major conflict. Like a sword hanging over everyone's head—if you start a war, you risk the academy getting involved, and no one wants that.

  Of course, all that instability over the years generated massive unrest. So many emperors and heirs have been assassinated that the rightful bloodline is long gone. No one even knows who the legitimate ruler should be anymore.

  Today, the emperor's throne rests on power alone. Whichever member of the Imperial family has the most political influence, the strongest allies, and the best military support gets the seat.

  However, an exception is always made if an S-rank is born into the family. When that happens, they become the next emperor in line. No questions asked, after all, what could even oppose an S-rank emperor?.

  This was all common knowledge. What came next wasn't.

  "So wait," I said, interrupting Aurora's explanation about political factions. "Aurelius isn't actually the first son?"

  She looked at me carefully before answering. "We can't know for certain. I mean, we could, but anyone who publicly questioned it would likely disappear." She said it so casually it made my stomach turn. "What the Empire tells us officially is that Aurelius is the first legitimate son of the current emperor and an S-rank, which makes him the unquestionable heir."

  "That's..." I struggled for words. "They just make people disappear for asking questions?"

  "Welcome to Imperial politics at the highest level." She moved a piece on the Regicide board between us, though I got the sense the game had become secondary. "But yes, officially his position is unassailable."

  "Well, at least that makes things stable then, right?" I tried to find some logic in it. "If his claim is that secure, there shouldn't be succession disputes."

  She laughed quietly, and there was no humor in it at all.

  "What? Why is that funny?"

  "The idea that being the obvious heir would keep him safe is... optimistic." She shook her head. "Yes, there are no other S-ranked heirs in the Empire currently. The other princes wouldn't be strong enough to have any legitimate claim on their own."

  "Then what's the problem?"

  "Do you know how many S-ranks have been assassinated throughout history?" She asked.

  "I... no?"

  "More than you'd think. A good enough team of A-rank assassins can kill an S-rank if they plan it properly. It's rare, but it happens." She paused, watching my reaction. "But there's another way to secure a claim to the throne. A more reliable way."

  "Which is?"

  "An alliance with another S-rank."

  I blinked. "Would that actually work?"

  "It's how the current emperor secured his position." Aurora leaned back slightly. "The current emperor is only A-rank. By all rights, he should never have been able to claim the throne against S-rank competitors."

  "Then how did he—"

  "He has a childhood friend who is extremely loyal to him. An S-rank childhood friend." She let that sink in. "When the succession crisis happened, all the other claimants had to consider: if they moved against him, they'd have to fight an S-rank. Most decided it wasn't worth the risk."

  "So having an S-rank on your side is basically..."

  "Everything," Aurora finished. "Which is why the other princes are still a threat to Aurelius, despite his own S-rank status. If one of them could secure an alliance with another S-rank, suddenly the playing field changes completely."

  "And people would support them," I said, understanding dawning.

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  "Exactly. People tend to support the underdog, especially in succession disputes." She started ticking points off on her fingers. "When a real contest for the throne happens, it's the perfect opportunity for noble families to ascend in rank and power. Agreements get made, promises of future positions, land grants, favorable trade rights, tax exemptions. A succession crisis is basically a gold rush for ambitious nobles."

  "The Empire has mechanisms to prevent this, of course," she continued. "The current emperor has been consolidating power, eliminating potential rivals, making strategic marriages. But those mechanisms only work as long as Aurelius remains unchallenged."

  "So the other princes are actively looking for S-ranks to ally with?"

  "Not just looking. Desperately searching." She looked at me directly. "Which brings us to the current problem."

  "You," I said, the pieces falling into place.

  "Me." She confirmed quietly. "I'm an S-rank who hasn't pledged allegiance to anyone. You can imagine how many offers I get for dinners, meetings, 'friendly conversations.' Multiple times per week."

  "That sounds exhausting."

  "It is." For a moment, genuine weariness showed on her face. "Besides me, the Church also has an S-rank. But they don't have a claim to the throne themselves, and they don't seem to favor any of the current princes either. So they're also trying to contact me constantly, hoping to coordinate or at least ensure I don't oppose whatever they're planning."

  "Do you have a claim to the throne?" The question came out before I thought it through.

  "Technically? No, I'm not Imperial family." She paused, her expression growing more guarded. "But I have light magic. It's extremely rare, seen as divine by many people, especially among the more religious nobility. If I declared support for any prince, it would lend significant legitimacy to their claim. The 'blessing of the light' and all that religious symbolism the Church loves."

  The full weight of what she was saying hit me. "So you basically decide who becomes the next emperor?"

  Her expression shifted, the composed mask cracking. She looked down at the game board between us. "It isn't something to be proud of."

  Her voice was quieter now, more vulnerable than I'd ever heard it.

  "If I chose to ally with someone tomorrow, I'd be deciding the fate of millions of people. The entire Empire's future. Wars would start or be prevented based on my decision." She paused, and I could hear the strain underneath her careful words. "Every day I wake up and that weight is there. Every conversation with a noble, every letter I receive, every political move anyone makes around me—all of it has consequences I can barely calculate."

  Her voice cracked slightly.

  "It isn't pleasant."

  "I'm sorry," I said, meaning it completely. "I can't imagine living with that kind of pressure."

  She took a breath, visibly rebuilding her composure. "I think that's enough world history for today. That covers what you need to know about the current political situation."

  "Aurora—"

  "If you want to understand it deeper, you'd need to read through dozens of books on Imperial history and previous civil wars. Study the patterns, the players, the mistakes." She was retreating behind formality again. "And even then, much of what's written isn't entirely reliable. History gets rewritten by whoever wins."

  I could see her pulling away, so I shifted topics rather than pushing. "What about the people here in the library? How do you actually know what they are? The nobles, the spies?"

  She seemed relieved by the change in subject. "Studying, mostly. One of the privileges of being S-rank is access to Imperial records, registries, intelligence reports—all sorts of information that isn't publicly available. I make it a habit to review files on anyone I might encounter in situations like this."

  "That's still impressive though."

  "Less impressive than you think." A slight smile. "I'm not like Silvani who can read someone's entire background just by sensing their mana signature. I have to do actual research. I just have better access to sources than most."

  "I don't know," I said honestly. "I can barely remember people's names half the time. The fact that you can keep track of who everyone is, what they want, which faction they belong to... that's a skill."

  "Thank you." She started organizing the game pieces, carefully placing each one back in its starting position. "That's enough for today though. I need to go."

  "Where to?" I asked before I could stop myself.

  She paused, seeming to consider whether to answer. "I have an obligation this evening. One of those meetings I mentioned."

  "Another prince trying to recruit you?"

  "A prince's representative, actually." She closed the game box with precise movements. "It won't lead anywhere, but I have to maintain appearances. Refusing too many invitations would be seen as a political statement in itself. That I'm aligned against them."

  "That sounds awful," I said bluntly.

  "It's part of the role." She stood up, smoothing her white uniform. "But I appreciate the sentiment."

  I stood as well. "Thanks for teaching me today. Both the game and... the other stuff."

  "You're welcome." She picked up the game box to return it to its shelf. "Try not to do anything too dramatic while I'm gone. I'd prefer not to hear about you causing some incident when I'm trying to be diplomatic."

  "No promises," I said with a slight smile.

  She almost smiled back. "I'll see you Monday then. We can continue your lessons."

  "Looking forward to it."

  She turned to leave, then paused and looked back at me. "Kai? Thank you for listening. Most people either don't want to know about these things, or they treat it like it's exciting drama to watch unfold. You just... listened."

  "Anytime," I said simply.

  She nodded once, then walked away toward the library exit, her white uniform a bright contrast against the dim wooden shelves.

  I stayed there for a moment, looking at the empty chair across from me.

  Aurora carried the weight of the entire Empire's future on her shoulders, and she'd been doing it alone.

  Maybe that could change.