As we walked, the corridors seemed to stretch endlessly, the echo of our footsteps the only sound in the otherwise quiet palace. I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease creeping over me, especially with how uncomfortable the empress made me. But I had no good excuse to avoid her, especially with me also needing to go to dinner. 

After a few more moments of silence, she spoke again, her voice soft but filled with an underlying intensity that caught me off guard.

"Javier, forgive me for being so direct, but I must ask... have you heard the voice of the Goddess?" Her words echoed in the quiet hallway, sending a shiver down my spine.

I paused, my heart skipping a beat as I turned to look at her, my expression a mix of surprise and apprehension. How could she know? I had kept my encounter with the goddess a secret, not even telling Rael the truth. 

"I..." I faltered, unsure of how to respond. The truth felt like a heavy burden, one I wasn't ready to share with anyone, especially not the empress. I could see the scrutiny in her eyes, amber orbs that were as mysterious as her thoughts. 

“I can see you are reluctant to speak,” Nisha sighed, her gaze softening with understanding. "But I sense a turmoil within you, a struggle that mirrors my own. You see, Javier, I too hear the voice of the Goddess, constantly whispering in my mind like a persistent melody.”

I couldn't help the way my eyes widened with her words, starting at the Empress as she smiled at me. I had only heard the Goddess's voice once and it had woken me from a dead sleep. How did Nisha deal with hearing it all the time? 

“At first, I welcomed her guidance, her wisdom,” Nisha went on, her voice wavering as we walked. No wonder she spoke so softly: she must have felt like there was no point in raising her voice if it wouldn’t get rid of the Goddess’s. “But as time went on, the whispers grew louder, more insistent, until they became a cacophony that echoed through my skull, leaving me with nothing but headaches and a longing for silence."

“I… only heard her voice once,” I answered honestly, my voice barely above a whisper, almost drowned out by the echo of our footsteps. "It was... unexpected, and it led me to something that may help me. But I can't imagine what it must be like to hear her constantly."

Nisha's expression softened further, a glimmer of sympathy shining in her eyes as she nodded slowly. We continued our walk in silence, my heartbeat echoing in my ears. Maybe opening up to her wouldn't be as daunting as I had feared but I still couldn’t get past my fear of her. This could all be a ploy to get me to drop my guard and I refused to be her toy, even if her heart was in the right place.

“Mother,” I spoke softly, carefully choosing my words and Nisha looked up at me sharply. Her expression told me that she never expected me to call her that in private and I took a deep breath as I continued, “May I ask for a favor?”

Nisha's gaze softened at my unexpected request, her curiosity evident as she nodded, inviting me to continue. I hesitated for a moment, gathering my thoughts before pressing forward with my plea.

"Promise me something, Mother,” I did my best to plead with my eyes, hoping I could seem both desperate and serious. Sabien and the other summoned never knew to ask Nisha this, so I had a great advantage in knowing what caused the calamity. “Promise me that if... if you ever stop hearing the Goddess's voice, you'll tell me."

The request seemed to catch her off guard, a flicker of uncertainty passing through her eyes before she composed herself once more. 

"Why do you ask this of me?" she inquired, her tone laced with a hint of suspicion.

"There are things... things I cannot explain," I admitted reluctantly, choosing my words with care. I knew she would likely ask why, but I wasn’t ready to try and explain the truth to anyone yet. "But please, Mother, indulge me in this one request. Promise me."

For a moment, there was a tense silence between us, the weight of my words hanging in the air like a heavy mist. I could see the conflict raging within Nisha, her expression betraying the turmoil within her. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Nisha let out a soft sigh, her features softening with a mixture of resignation and understanding.

"Very well, Javier," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, as if she feared the very walls might overhear our conversation. "I promise you, if ever the Goddess's voice falls silent to me, I will inform you."

"Thank you, Mother," I murmured, the words feeling foreign on my tongue yet strangely comforting at the same time. In my former life, I had almost nothing to thank my mother for, even as she continuously would try to drag the words from me. As a child, I said them eagerly, but as I got older and understood what she was doing, I stopped. 

We resumed our walk in silence, the weight of our conversation lingering in the air between us like a delicate thread connecting our souls. Despite the unease that still coiled within me, I had to admit that at least for now, Nisha didn’t seem too bad. She was invested in my success and while I had expected her to refuse, she agreed to my request while not demanding why.

I've gotten quite comfortable. I thought to myself, glancing at the flickering candles as we walked. Being Javier was much easier than being Asai had ever been, and I couldn't quite explain why. Of course, being far away from my mother and her expectations was a huge factor, but I couldn't help but feel that it was more than that. Maybe it was simply because I could be myself and do what I wanted.

“Mother! Javier!” I smiled brightly as the doors to Grand Hall opened, Lucilla and Javier running up to us excitedly. Nisha's expression softened at the sight of the children, a warm smile spreading across her face as she opened her arms to embrace them. Despite the heavy burdens of the ever-present whispers of the Goddess, moments like these seemed to offer a brief respite from the trials of the empress’s pain.

As we settled into our seats at the grand dining table, the atmosphere seemed to lighten, the weight of our earlier conversation dissipating. Servants moved about silently, laying out the meal as Lucilla and Javier chattered excitedly. Just as I began to relax into the evening, Kozani's voice broke through the buzz of conversation, drawing my attention back to the present.

"Javier, we'll be leaving tomorrow to join Sir Heskel on his visit to the affected farm," Kozani announced, his tone firm and a bit proud. I did my best to stay neutral, but internally I was both anxious and excited. That explained why Valerian was at the palace and I could only hope that I could meet him as I promised. Then, as if I finally heard the full statement, I looked up to meet the emperor’s smile.

“W-we, Father?”

“Yes. I have decided to accompany you,” Kozani confirmed, and I couldn’t help my frown. I had no memories to guide me through these events, so I didn’t know if Kozani would be safe on this trip or not. “Aldrin will also be joining us, as he is concerned by magic infecting nature.”

“I… see,” I spoke carefully, trying to hide my discomfort and annoyance. Of course, Aldrin’s excuse made sense as an elf, but I didn’t trust the ‘ambassador’ at all. His magic was simply too hostile for me to ever feel comfortable and I couldn’t suppress the thought that it was a bad idea for Aldrin to join us. However, I had no proof, just my own vague feelings, which meant I had no way to prove how I felt.

As the evening progressed, I found myself lost in thought, picking at my food absentmindedly as the conversation ebbed and flowed around me. Lucilla and Javier’s laughter provided a brief distraction, but the weight of what lay ahead hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the meal.

I need to tell Valerian. I decided, thinking of my promise to him earlier. Valerian knew where my room was in the palace, so surely he would likely wait for me after Rael went to bed. If anyone might listen, it would be him and I felt my heart pound as I considered what he wanted to say to me.

“Alike…” I whispered, my voice barely audible amidst the din of conversation. The evening wore on, the grandeur of the palace hall gradually dimming as the candles burned low. Eventually, the meal came to an end, and with it, the jovial atmosphere faded into a somber quietude. I excused myself from the table, citing exhaustion.