A faint, almost imperceptible ripple moved across Bingxia’s winter-hard face—no frost of disappointment, but a spark of amused expectation, like sunlight teasing ice. She waited to see if the next words would expose a dream-drunk fool, or prove a mind not merely as beautiful as an Elf’s, but sharp enough to cut stone.

Adelaide would not let that spark die; her voice fell like steady rain on a parched field. I’m not trying to overreach, Lady Bingxia. Forgive my bluntness, but with the Illuin Family alone, it’s hard to win next year’s election.

Her tone was silk over steel—near provocation, yet gentle. Bingxia showed no shade of displeasure; her interest deepened, like a diver going quiet before darker water. She stood, still as a pine, and waited.

If I’m guessing right, after the Trial of Beauty ball and the Fana Family’s rise, the worst hit wasn’t the Carne Family. It was the Illuin Family, wasn’t it, Lady Bingxia?

How did you reach that? Her question was clean as a blade, no denial in its edge, just the wind of a test.

Adelaide felt the path open like a gate under moonlight. Because the Nacha Tribe conflict keeps escalating, and Carne’s expulsion stance rides a tide of public anger. Among your supporters, many don’t truly embrace Illuin’s middle ground. Some only think Carne is too extreme and want Illuin as a counterweight. Others simply fear upheaval and back you to keep the lake still.

She paused, then let the next stone drop into the water. But the center is sand, not rock. When Fana’s support surged and looked ready to stand against Carne, the first group saw a better counterforce and joined Fana. The second saw Fana as a storm threatening calm and drifted toward Carne. So the erosion strikes Illuin alone.

Bingxia closed her eyes and hummed softly, like a flute under snow.

I thought an outsider from the Human Empire would carry her homeland’s stale dust in her mind. Looks like I underestimated how serious Her Majesty the Empress was when she invited you. Thanks to her, the Fana Family has met a true benefactor.

You flatter me, Lady Bingxia. I was only chewing on ideas during a walk, not worth your smile. Adelaide bowed, a petal falling on stone. As a noble of the Sarman Empire, I shouldn’t grasp elven politics this far. I’m leaning on memories not entirely my own.

In the Elven Realm, she’d learned the tongue and art carried a thread from the “Dream”—that old river—but the weave held many strands: even their balls came from other looms. Their politics, too, borrowed from distant workshops. Her analysis grew from those borrowed lights.

Once she steadied her resistance to the “Dream,” she found more than a script in its halls. That new sense of control shone in her eyes like lanterns at dusk. Bingxia’s interest warmed; her voice lost the early pressure, like snow easing under sun.

Then let’s call this idle talk for a walk. She stepped forward, feet whispering over the path. If you faced the very trap you described, what answer would you give?

Adelaide matched her pace, two steps behind, wind at her back. I’d propose the Illuin Family stand on the same line as the Fana Family. Unite their strength. That’s the path to beating the Carne Family.

To seek their votes means dropping neutrality and turning toward the Nacha Tribe. Bingxia’s words were straight as a spear. That sounds less like a solution and more like a personal ask, doesn’t it?

Adelaide’s calm held, a lake unruffled by a passing bird. Yes, and no. It’s a personal vision, but not mine alone. Because the one who wanted reconciliation with the Nacha Tribe, and quietly supported—even helped found—the Fana Family from the start… was you.

Bingxia’s step faltered for the blink of a heartbeat, then smoothed, like a dancer catching her breath. Bold, that guess. Even the Kababak Gazette wouldn’t dare fling such a claim.

Isn’t it? The Fana Family receives waves of small, anonymous donations at regular intervals. That’s the string that keeps their kite in the sky. Aid that regular and perfectly timed is less an accident of the crowd, more the work of a rich hand that dislikes a spotlight. Among Elves who can bear that weight, the number is slim. You’re one of them.

I can bear it, true. So can Silan of the Carne Family. By your own analysis, the Fana Family’s rise hurts me most. Wouldn’t it make more sense for Silan to help them in the shadows?

Bingxia’s reply flowed like water over polished jade, no tremor in it. Adelaide did not step back; she’d spent these days studying as well as being studied. She had brought an extra blade for this moment.

You’re right—Carne has motive. But judging by their hiring vandals to scrawl filth on Fana officials’ doors, I don’t think Silan is that type. Adelaide let the word rich carry weight, like a bell struck twice.

Maybe. Silan’s a straight arrow, I’ll grant that. But does that prove that I—Bingxia—who once led our people to war with the Nacha Tribe and cut ties for millennia—would risk losing an election to help former enemies?

Adelaide only smiled, the curve like a crescent under thin clouds. In truth, didn’t you already lose once for that very reason?

…

Forgive me. After Princess Pris died of a heart illness, you won the Flower Dancer’s crown, then relinquished a nearly certain chairmanship. You returned her body to the Nacha Tribe and ended the war you began, like laying a sword upon an altar.

Adelaide recited history like counting prayer beads. Bingxia halted, silence folding around her like heavy snow.

They say you wept when you saw Princess Pris’s father for the last time. And for thousands of years since, you never took another wife. I won’t judge, and I’ve no right to. But you’re one of the few who fit the human tales of Elves—steadfast as old pines.

Bingxia closed her eyes, then shook her head, wind sighing through branches. Humans still imagine us from mist and lantern light. It seems the Queen of Humanity won’t let go of her fantasy.

Human Queen… The phrase glinted in Adelaide’s mind like a coin in the riverbed, but the iron was hot; she kept striking.

So, you don’t deny remorse for the war, or for taking the Nacha Chief’s beloved daughter so they missed her final farewell. You feel you owe them. That’s why the Illuin Family shifted from hawk to neutral, isn’t it?

Bingxia didn’t answer. She looked back at Adelaide, the flame in her gaze dimming, like embers under ash. You’ve made it too simple, Miss Adelaide. Even if I were as you say—too human for an Elf—it wouldn’t matter. With our lifespans, our kind turns hard as granite. I can’t swing the nation’s direction on a whim.

But I want to help you do it. Adelaide’s hand rose, steady as a bridge offered across a chasm. Her gaze held, no tremor in the light.

If we keep a conservative drift—propping one family to parry another—Carne’s victory comes like winter: inevitable. Give my plan one chance. Alliance with the Fana Family will cost you some neutral votes. I’ll cover that loss with my own strength and find the fault line that breaks Carne’s mountain. It’s the only path to dissolve the feud and avoid repeating a blood-washed history, Lady Bingxia.

Her voice didn’t shout; it rang, like a blade tested against stone. She’d rehearsed that line alone a hundred times, every pause placed like stepping stones, each word clean enough to invite trust.

Bingxia didn’t take her hand. She studied the offered palm as if reading lines of fate, her gaze shifting like sun and cloud over a field. Finally, her chin lifted; she shook her head, a single leaf falling.

I can’t shake my base for a “possibility.”

Adelaide’s heart lurched, like a deer under sudden thunder. A First Generation Elf—thousands of winters in her bones. She had underestimated that weight. A leader who held Illuin’s seat unshaken wouldn’t be swayed by a spark of emotion. Rhetoric wouldn’t melt ancient ice.

As Adelaide’s hand began to sink, the world turned. Warmth met her fingers; Bingxia’s grip closed, firm as a clasped oath. She looked straight into Adelaide’s eyes, the sea there suddenly clear.

Then prove it, Miss Adelaide—prove your success isn’t a “possibility.” Make it a “certainty.”

…Huh?

Win the second “Trial of Goodness.” Do that, and you’ll have every resource you want.