The Prelude (1)

From the outset, when Freugne had blacked out, this was her greatest concern:

‘Would Uncle disapprove if he knew his daughter was involved in a shadow cabal in Londinium?’

It was an understandable apprehension. He had sent her to school to study, only for her to produce an entirely unanticipated outcome he had never envisioned.

Even she would likely experience profound shock were she to discover her hypothetical upstanding father – although she had internally agreed not to view Edan as such – moonlighting in a black costume performing heroic deeds at night, regardless of her personal inclinations.

Lacking any acquaintances with prior shadow cabal experience to serve as reference points, predicting Edan’s potential reaction proved challenging.

Hence, Freugne had repeatedly posed circumspect inquiries to gauge Edan’s mindset over time.

Their exchanges unfolded approximately thus:

“After I graduate, I wonder what career path I should pursue? Do you have any preferences?”

“Having studied magic, you could likely secure employment virtually anywhere, presuming the world remains stable. But that decision lies beyond my purview.”

“What if I wished to pursue a respectable profession while maintaining a modest side venture?”

“That would be your choice. So long as it’s not unethical, I won’t interfere with your endeavors.”

“So operating a business venture would be acceptable?”

“Indeed.”

“And if that business unexpectedly expanded beyond initial expectations?”

“No issue there, I’d imagine. Am I not working to grow Ceres Martop myself?”

“I see. On a slightly different note, did you happen to encounter anyone in Antrim who piqued your interest?”

“Why would you ask…?”

Alright, so he didn’t seem overly concerned about her secretly pursuing other activities.

The nature of her eventual profession appeared irrelevant, and unlike certain families fixated on hereditary succession, Edan harbored no such obsessions.

“As I mentioned yesterday, I can glimpse the future.”

“You did, yes.”

“I’ve utilized that ability to establish a small organization of sorts…”

So while she had provided a broad outline, it seemed Edan would require firsthand experience to fully grasp the specifics.

Freugne refrained from disclosing the organization’s precise scale to Edan.

Even she herself remained uncertain about the true extent of its influence.

Without formal membership contracts or binding allegiances beyond Freugne’s foresight and a minimal clover insignia for identification, its cohesion relied solely on her future knowledge.

With that vague preface, the train they had boarded that morning arrived smoothly in Londinium after penetrating the city’s considerably tightened security.

Finally setting foot in their familiar home station, Freugne and Edan had returned.

The automobile they had been utilizing in Antrim likely remained gathering dust in the hotel’s parking lot due to their abruptly revised schedule, a lower priority than their more pressing concerns.

Regardless, they lacked the leisure to go sightseeing, so Edan scanned the area for a carriage to transport them home – until Freugne tugged his sleeve.

“Uncle, we’ll take that one.”

“That?”

Following her pointing finger revealed an approaching automobile.

Having sent prior notice to Lord Norton, requesting the finest available, the marquess had evidently exercised some ingenuity by dispatching a Ceres Martop vehicle.

Partially propelled by Freugne’s guidance, Edan tentatively boarded the car.

Without specifying a destination, it deposited them before a restaurant and promptly departed. Freugne and Edan then enjoyed their meal without paying.

“So about the bill…”

“Ah, the proprietor insisted no payment was necessary.”

“The proprietor said that…?”

Up to this point, one could charitably interpret it as Freugne facilitating a filial sightseeing excursion.

While the nature of her acquaintance with the upscale restaurant’s owner remained unexplained, nonetheless…

Within a few days, Edan’s life had become subtly more affluent.

Subtly, yet unmistakably.

For instance, the customary friction accompanying new Martop supply contracts had virtually dissipated, and administrative procedures were expedited with an efficiency suggesting diligent unseen facilitation.

No overt changes, yet insiders would undoubtedly detect the involvement of an external influence.

And when Edan finally recognized the grander scale of the organization than he had initially envisioned, Freugne, deeming the timing appropriate, confessed candidly:

“You may have heard rumors before? About a shadow cabal orchestrating the Demonic Tribe’s uprising.”

“There were such whispers… But I dismissed them as the usual conspiracy theories that emerge after such incidents. From none other than you, no less.”

“Precisely. Cheap conspiracy theories. For if a shadow cabal truly abetted the Demonic Tribe, they would not have been so unceremoniously eradicated, would they?”

After a momentary pause, Edan inquired:

“…So are you implying that was a lie?”

“Ahaha, as if I would tell you such falsehoods, Uncle.”

Merely concealed, one could argue.

Although her careful guiding implied deception, she was revealing the truth nonetheless, however belatedly.

A secret known to a handful at most, including Edan himself.

Taking a deep breath, Freugne decided to disclose everything since she had ventured this far.

“Nevertheless, the shadow cabal part was accurate. Wouldn’t it be reasonable for someone to wield power in this city?”

“……”

“That someone is me.”

Edan did not react with undue surprise or outrage.

Rather, his sentiment seemed one of resigned inevitability.

“Regrettably, it would seem.”

---

So then.

If any error had occurred, where might it have originated?

“Wouldn’t it be reasonable for someone to wield power in this city?”

“……”

“That someone is me.”

He had surmised her implications upon learning of her future sight. Coupled with Freugne’s subsequent direct revelation about establishing a “small organization,” the true nature of that “organization” had become apparent to him from his knowledgeable perspective.

‘A shadow cabal, it would seem.’

The buildup had been evident for days. And yesterday, she had outright confirmed it as a cabal.

In alternative history novels, did such scenarios not arise where, no matter how drastically the timeline diverged, it inevitably reverted to its original course?

Allow me to illustrate: Supposing a certain Austrian painter had been admitted to art school.

Despite that, an unusually affluent Jew would still commission him to paint furries, ultimately evolving into the same mustachioed tyrant. In essence, an immutable future.

Apparently, merely rescuing her as a child proved insufficient to avert Freugne’s path towards forming a cabal.

“Regrettably, it would seem.”

Yet some change had undoubtedly occurred.

Freugne had not directed her resentment towards humanity. That alone constituted sufficient alteration to satisfy my desires.

Of course, the possibility that Freugne had contemplated and deceived me could not be entirely dismissed.

However…

“…Are you disappointed?”

“Hmm…”

I recognized that expression well. An orphanage operator, after all.

It mirrored a child caught in a transgression, apprehensive about parental disapproval.

Her sliver of trepidation did not strike me as mere theatrics, fearing rejection.

“Even so, you are still Freugne.”

“…Yes!”

“Then I shall love you, faults and all – my secretive little one.”

Freugne clung to me like a rice cake, and I had to indulge her for a while.

Which raises another question:

Just how extensive was the scale of this supposed shadow cabal?

Freugne had not provided me with precise numbers, and she herself seemed uncertain.

Yet the degree of influence she had attained was undeniable. How much of Londinium had she already subverted without my knowledge?

“Long time no see. I heard you were severely injured in Antrim – are you fully recovered?”

“Yes, well. As you know, my body remains hale so long as I still draw breath.”

“I’m relieved to see you in good health. In fact, I have something for you.”

The following day, to commemorate my return, I promptly arranged to meet with Professor Magni.

After receiving the railgun development data accumulated during my absence, I provided him with the field usage data. As we conversed about recent events, the subject eventually turned towards:

“It seems there are unsavory elements operating within the city.”

“Surely not the Demonic Tribe?”

“No, fellow humans. Which perhaps renders them even more dangerous.”

Freugne had clearly stated no Demonic Tribe remained in this city.

A few might still be discreetly lurking if thoroughly searched, but she had claimed to have apprehended any actively operating factions, without exception.

Glancing around furtively, Professor Magni lowered his voice:

“It appears there are forces attempting to manipulate the Kingdom from the shadows.”

“I see……”

“Not mere lobbying in parliament, but something far more intimately intertwined.”

Now that you mention it…

Isn’t that likely my own daughter’s doing?

Had I truly remained oblivious to this until now?