Chapter 6 - A Test of Skill
“Phew, that’s the last of it. Fiiiiinally.”
Wein looked up from his paperwork, tossed away his pen, and stretched. The prince was still in his study at Willeron Palace.
“I’ve got less work these days, but it seriously takes forever without Ninym around,” he grumbled.
Wein’s vassals had taken on a good percentage of his duties, but he hadn’t been able to enjoy any of the extra free time since sending Ninym to Falanya.
…If all went well, Ninym should be with Falanya right about now.
Wein’s thoughts turned to his trusted aide.
Knowing Ninym, she’d find Falanya without issue. The real question was what came after, how Falanya would react to his letter.
Whatever happens, this is a perfect chance to measure Falanya’s growth.
Would she be trampled by the trials ahead or overcome them?
If Falanya nabs victory, then…
Wein sank into thought, alone in his office.
All while sporting a ferocious smile.
To get straight to the point, the extra time granted to Delunio didn’t help in the least.
Yuan’s runaway group was nowhere to be found, and Tolcheila refused to change her position. The messenger deployed to stop the army wasn’t going to make it in time, either.
All of this meant one thing, Delunio had lost.
Damn it all. I can’t believe this…!
Mullein gritted his teeth. Excluding guards, there were three other people in the palace conference room: King Lawrence, Princess Tolcheila, and Caldmellia, the director of the Gospel Bureau.
“Well then, shall we resume our conversation?”
Caldmellia was the first to break the silence.
“We, the Teachings of Levetia, do not recognize Eastern Levetia as a proper denomination. We publicly denounce its followers as heretics. Naturally, this means no affiliated people, organizations, or countries shall be tolerated. Delunio colluded with Eastern Levetia and used Princess Tolcheila’s rightful inheritance as a pretext to invade the Soljest Kingdom. We cannot turn a blind eye to such behavior… Do you agree, Princess Tolcheila?”
Tolcheila nodded with a pained look. “As soon as I heard of my brother’s mutiny, I tried to return home but was locked away in my mansion. I daresay he threatened to trap me there.”
“Princess Tolcheila…!” Mullein couldn’t contain his rage, and Tolcheila cowered like a child.
“Oh, how very frightening. An innocent young girl like me could only comply under such duress. You understand, don’t you, Lady Caldmellia?”
“Yes, of course.”
The two women no longer hid the fact that they were in cahoots, conversing amiably. They’d probably start discussing how best to dismantle Delunio soon.
Is this really it?
Mullein had no choice but to accept it. He’d been bested. That didn’t spell the end, though. Failure taught him how low he’d sink to survive.
I hoped Lawrence wouldn’t be present…
Mullein looked over at the silent king. Lawrence had been locked in his room since the incident in the audience hall, yet he’d somehow heard about this meeting and demanded to attend. Caldmellia requested Lawrence’s presence as well, leaving a reluctant Mullein with no choice.
Well, it couldn’t be helped. Don’t resent me, Lawrence.
Mullein turned away from his puppet to face Caldmellia and Tolcheila. “I understand your grievances.” He paused for a moment. “Moreover—I admit everything. Our nation has indeed colluded with Eastern Levetia.”
Tolcheila’s and Caldmellia’s eyes immediately narrowed. They’d planned to attack Delunio after Mullein made his excuses. They hadn’t expected him to accept their accusations outright.
“You’ve suddenly become quite noble. Have you had a change of heart?”
“As a pious follower of Levetia, I wish only to be honest, Princess Tolcheila.”
“What confidence.” Tolcheila scoffed. “You admit to conspiring with Eastern Levetia yet dare call yourself faithful? Perhaps you wish to test God’s benevolence? Surely, you agree that you’ve crossed a line.”
“Testing God’s benevolence?! I speak from the heart. Neither statement is a contradiction of the other,” Mullein asserted.
Tolcheila stared at him questioningly.
“…Ah, I see. So that’s how it is,” Caldmellia remarked with a small smile. She realized the prime minister’s intention first.
“Delunio’s affiliation with Eastern Levetia was neither the will of the people nor my own. Everything was by order of King Lawrence himself!” Mullein declared.
The guards in the conference room broke into a commotion—an expected reaction. After all, Mullein had just blatantly accused the king.
All right, everything starts here!
It was Mullein who took over Delunio after Sirgis’s downfall. It was also his decision to contact Eastern Levetia. Lawrence hadn’t done a single thing. Pinning the king with the guilt was a bald-faced lie.
But so what?
“Who are we vassals to go against the king’s word?! However, your arrival has allowed us to finally end his reign of tyranny! The sincere prayers of the people, myself included, have been answered!”
It was a perfect example of the blame-shifting that future historians would unanimously criticize. Mullein put the king’s head on a silver platter in a filthy move to save himself.
But really, was that so wrong? Mullein’s life was the only one that mattered, so it was natural to abandon lord and country. Patriotism and loyalty were nothing more than foolish sentiments touted by idiots.
Lawrence, I’ll take your life and survive…!
How did the king respond to this upset?
Did the color drain from his face? Was he visibly livid? Lawrence probably didn’t understand what was happening and would likely have a blank expression.
With derision, delight, and mild curiosity, Mullein glanced at the foolish puppet king.
“…So it was all true.”
The answer was none of the above. Lawrence’s calm air rattled Mullein. He thought the guards would have to subdue a furious king, yet no such action was necessary. Lawrence peered into Mullein’s eyes but seemed to be looking beyond them.
“Then even that must be true…” the king muttered.
While Mullein considered what that meant, the conference room door burst open. A messenger came running in.
“Pardon me! We’ve just received an initial report from the battlefield!”
The battlefield. The war between Soljest and Delunio.
“Hmph. There is no longer any point, but go on.”
Tolcheila won the moment the battle between the two nations became a reality.
Kabra’s failure was more convenient for her, but she had full confidence she could handle him in victory or defeat.
“You there. What of the Soljest army?” she asked.
The messenger hesitated, but replied, “Yes, well, we’ve received news that the Soljest army has been routed.”
“I see. So Delunio is the victor.”
It was a reasonable enough conclusion. Tolcheila wondered if her brother was dead or captured…
“No, Delunio’s generals were captured as well, and they are presently retreating.”
Everyone in the conference room froze.
“What are you talking about?” Tolcheila asked.
The two armies clashed, but both were forced to flee instead of one emerging as the clear winner. Tolcheila puzzled over this nonsense and hit upon a possibility.
“—Don’t tell me Natra interfered?!”
Natra was the last member of the triple alliance. As a country with ties to Delunio and Soljest, it should have remained a spectator. Did it abandon noninterference?
How did the Natran army arrive so fast?! No, I’m certain Prince Wein could pull it off. But if both sides were forced to flee, does that mean Natra faked neutrality? A noncommittal stance could have also allowed Natra to wait for an opportunity! Caldmellia and I will need to draw up a counterattack…
As one might expect, Tolcheila processed this unforeseen event with lightning speed. Her keen tactical mind was the genuine article. Unfortunately, the truth this time was beyond anything she could have imagined.
“No, it wasn’t the Natran army.”
The messenger spoke as if unable to believe it himself.
“The victors were commanded by King Gruyere.”
“ What?!”
A wave of shock rippled through the conference room.
“Delunio’s and Soljest’s forces combined were shy of thirty thousand.”
A tent sat on the border between Delunio and Soljest. It was only a short while after the battle, yet both armies were gone.
“We, on the other hand, numbered slightly under three thousand. That’s ten times less.”
One of the people in the tent was a man of immense girth. He was King Gruyere, the former king of Soljest.
“Ah, what an exhilarating battle that was.”
“Ridiculous… This can’t be…” moaned Kabra, the failed usurper who lay bound before his father. The Delunio commander was tied up next to him.
“Do not despair, my son. You noticed my ambush, after all, and your counterattack was a valiant effort. But the battle was already a melee, so you were simply too late,” Gruyere explained cheerily.
Kabra shot his parent a furious scowl. “How, Father?!”
“How what?”
“You were supposed to be locked away! Even if you did manage to escape, where did you get these soldiers?! Soljest’s troops follow my orders!”
“Ah, that. I have a very special friend, you see.”
Gruyere’s gaze shifted to the two figures next to him.
One was a Flahm with white hair and crimson eyes—Falanya’s servant, Nanaki.
“In other words, you’re here to take me into custody.”
Shortly before Delunio and Soljest opened fire, Gruyere addressed his unexpected guest while confined in a detached villa.
“Evidently, Prince Wein’s little sister has a keen eye.”
Nanaki came to Gruyere on Falanya’s orders to secure the king.
Princess Tolcheila plans to fight under the pretext of reclaiming a throne that has been wrongfully stolen, but she isn’t the only person who can use this logic. Since King Gruyere was the one actually ousted, there’s a good chance he wants it back, too.
That was Falanya’s thought process. She’d offer to help Gruyere reclaim his crown, thus making him an ally. This was a means to an end, of course. Falanya’s primary aim was to stop Tolcheila from involving Delunio in her schemes.
Unfortunately, Gruyere’s reaction to her proposal couldn’t have been more lackluster.
“Frankly, I’ll pass,” he said. “This is the long-awaited showdown between my two children, and as a parent, I want to see the result. If I run now, I’ll just be watching while you cart me off, right? Whether I’m here or there changes little, and moving around sounds like a pain.”
Gruyere took a bite of the fruit in his hand and slapped his barrel belly. This wasn’t any kind of bargaining ploy; he really was that lazy.
Nanaki remained perfectly calm, recalling Falanya’s orders.
I hear King Gruyere can be difficult to please, so an offer to escape house arrest may not be enough. In that case…
“Instead of being hauled away, why not join the fun?” Nanaki proposed.
Gruyere raised an eyebrow.
“We have three thousand soldiers who will obey you. Test whether your children can beat them.”
“Together, Soljest’s and Delunio’s armies exceed twenty thousand strong. Are you suggesting I face them with a scant force of three thousand?”
“You can’t do it, then?”
“Don’t make me laugh,” Gruyere replied as his megalith body radiated with an invisible aura of overwhelming might. “Okay. I’ve been pretty bored lately. I could use a cheap laugh.”
“Then let’s go. Get ready,” Nanaki brusquely instructed the former king.
Gruyere’s shoulders shook with delight, but he had one last question. “I’ve been meaning to ask, where did you get three thousand soldiers?”
“From Marden,” Nanaki answered. “Zenovia ordered the troops to follow your commands.”
And now, back to the present.
Gruyere led the Marden forces to a magnificent victory, toppling both sides.
“My, what a world we live in. To think there’d come a day when I’d command a Marden army.”
“I am equally shocked, King Gruyere,” responded a man who stood beside Nanaki. This was Borgen, one of Zenovia’s generals. “Our training was designed to prepare us for you, after all.”
As neighbor to the Soljest Kingdom, Marden was well aware of the country’s strength and the threat it posed. Therefore, Zenovia instituted a daily regimen to ensure her soldiers were ready at a moment’s notice. No one imagined this would be the result of that effort.
“Soldiers need strength, of course, but the way yours split into small groups and covertly returned to me was impressive. It made ambushing my son easy. Is that skill a carryover from your Liberation Army days?”
“Yes. A certain nation refused to send aid, so our training was based entirely on such methods.” Borgen’s comment was dripping with sarcasm, much to Gruyere’s delight. The general mentally clicked his tongue before continuing. “I am equally impressed by Your Majesty’s leadership. When you said we would be up against nearly thirty thousand, I thought we ought to stick to a ranged hit-and-run tactic. This will make excellent reference for future battles with your nation.
“You can keep serving under me if you prefer,” Gruyere offered.
“Surely you jest,” Borgen said, rejecting the king point blank. “What’s our next move? We’ve captured both commanders. Shall we pursue Delunio?”
“No, let’s head back to the capital. The government can’t function without Kabra or me, and I’ll never get to enjoy my hobbies until we’ve got the basic stuff covered.”
“Understood. We shall prepare to withdraw.”
Borgen swiftly issued the order to his subordinates while Gruyere looked in the direction of the Delunio Kingdom.
“Now then, what will my daughter do?”
DON’T. SCREW. WITH. MEEEEE!
Tolcheila clenched her fists as her heart screamed furiously.
Now that Father has taken down Kabra, I don’t have a just claim to the throne!
Soljest’s conservatives wouldn’t accept the idea of a ruling queen easily. Tolcheila needed a win against a traitor like Kabra, a brilliant achievement to bolster her standing. And Gruyere stole it right out from under her.
Obviously, the people would want Gruyere to reclaim his title, and he’d be more than happy to accept. Kabra would be sentenced to death or put under house arrest in the countryside. Tolcheila would return to her original position—No, if she was criticized for inviting the interference of a foreign nation, she might be sent away with her brother.
“That report must be mistaken…!”
“I confirmed it countless times. Both armies have indeed been routed, and King Gruyere has risen as the victor!” the messenger said.
Tolcheila’s desperate hope met a bitter end. She had no idea where Gruyere managed to find soldiers, but her plan was ruined. She had no choice but to accept that.
However, this was only a half loss.
Fine! I lost the battle for the throne! But that doesn’t mean I’ll let Delunio get away!
Tolcheila’s heart raged, and she shifted targets.
“Although this incident was rather unexpected, Father’s safety is welcome news,” she said, swallowing her bitterness. “It doesn’t change that Delunio united with Eastern Levetia and attacked my homeland, though. Wouldn’t you agree, Lady Caldmellia?”
“Indeed,” she answered with a lively smile. “And, Sir Mullein, you assert that King Lawrence took the initiative, yes?”
“Y-yes, that’s right.” Mullein nodded nervously. Like the others, he was stunned by the battle’s outcome, but his focus was still primarily on Lawrence. The accused king was uncomfortably silent.
“Is this true, King Lawrence?”
Mullein rushed to answer in his stead. “Lady Caldmellia, I speak the tru—”
“I am asking King Lawrence.”
Caldmellia brushed Mullein aside to look at Lawrence.
“…”
The king lifted his head, and looked to Mullein, Tolcheila, and Caldmellia in turn. He took a deep breath as if to quell his nerves.
“No, it’s not.”
It was a concise, explicit denial.
“…Your Majesty! It’s pointless to make excuses! Please accept your responsibility as king!”
Mullein shamelessly clung to his lie. Caldmellia snickered as the king and prime minister played the blame game.
“You misunderstand,” Lawrence said, his weighty voice cutting past Caldmellia’s laughter. “I wasn’t talking about my role in the matter.”
All present looked puzzled. Lawrence gathered all his power and delivered a revelation.
“You are mistaken to believe we sided with Eastern Levetia in the first place.”
The room trembled.
Everything started when Delunio approached Eastern Levetia. Caldmellia used this as a point of criticism. Delunio could escape if it managed to override that justification.
“…Are you certain of that, King Lawrence?”
Caldmellia, of course, had no intention of letting Delunio flee. Her eyes bore into the king with an intensity not for the faint of heart.
“We have already confirmed a connection between Delunio and Eastern Levetia. Are you suggesting there’s been some error?”
“Exactly.” Lawrence’s hands trembled, but his voice was fluid. “And I have proof… Enter.” His eyes went to the door.
Everyone followed his gaze, and the door opened as though on cue.
“I am here per King Lawrence’s request.”
Several people entered, led by a girl.
“I am Falanya Elk Arbalest. I shall attend the rest of this meeting.”
Lawrence spat curses from his solitary, dim chamber the day before the meeting.
“Damn it! What the hell is going on…?!”
He thought back to the incident in the audience hall.
Caldmellia scorned Delunio and leveled false accusations.
Tolcheila conspired with her.
And Mullein belittled his king.
As Lawrence envisioned each face, rage built within the pit of his stomach. What should be done about those loathsome three? Tear them limb from limb with his own hands, perhaps? Yes, he was the king, after all. It would be simple…
“…”
However, no sooner did the thought occur to him than his anger withered and vanished. Lawrence watched the door out of his room.
Several guards stood watch outside. Their duty was to keep Lawrence inside, retrieving him only when necessary. He had no say in the matter. After all, it was Mullein they obeyed.
“What could I ever tear apart…?”
Self-derision crashed upon him. Lawrence couldn’t even handle a few guards confining him. No amount of anger would liberate him.
“And I call myself a king…?”
He’d been under house arrest for what felt like days with no news of the outside world. How were the war with Soljest and negotiations with Caldmellia going? His anxiety spiraled high. However, Lawrence also knew he was powerless to help, regardless of his situation. He’d been a mere puppet king since Sirgis’s reign and lacked the nerve to reclaim his authority despite his displeasure with that.
It was inevitable that he remained a ruler in name only after Sirgis’s fall. Someone content as a pawn couldn’t be expected to suddenly lead an entire nation. Still, Lawrence always told himself he wanted to change…
“…?”
A light breeze brushed the king’s cheek, and he looked up.
The window was closed.
Lawrence surveyed the room, wondering where the wind had come from. That’s when he noticed another human shadow in the room.
“Who are…?!”
“Please keep silent, Your Majesty.”
A familiar voice hushed Lawrence’s instinctive yelp of surprise. Upon closer inspection of the newcomer’s silhouette, Lawrence was twice baffled.
“S-Sirgis…?!”
“It’s been some time, Your Majesty.”
The man offering a polite bow was none other than Sirgis, the former prime minister of Delunio.
“H-how did you get in here…?”
“I never mentioned this before, but there is a hidden escape route in the event of an emergency.”
Sirgis motioned to the space behind him. What was once a wall had opened to reveal a passageway.
“Yuan informed me that Your Majesty’s room has not changed, which was a great help. Even so, the effort took quite a toll on me in my present state.”
Lawrence noted Sirgis’s poor complexion. Sweat covered his forehead. How much agony was the man enduring?
“Sirgis, those wounds…”
“Your Majesty, we have more pressing concerns,” Sirgis said. “I will be frank… At this rate, Mullein will blame you for everything, and you’ll be overthrown.”
“…!” Lawrence gulped.
“Princess Tolcheila and Lady Caldmellia have pushed Delunio into a corner. Mullein has no options left, so he will most likely offer Your Majesty’s head to Levetia to protect himself.”
“Th-that’s ridiculous! Mullein is the one handling our nation’s politics! Plus, I’m Delunio’s king! H-how could he possibly offer my head?!”
“I understand how you feel. However, Mullein doesn’t care, and as king, Your Majesty holds full responsibility for whatever befalls Delunio.”
Lawrence’s expression twisted. He tried to protest but gave up when he couldn’t find the words. He understood what Sirgis was saying. Delunio was in dire straits, and Mullein was not above taking desperate measures.
“What’s going on…? How did things turn out this way?!” Lawrence pleaded tearily, voice choked from anguish. “It was you, Sirgis! This is all your fault! This is because you were the prime minister! Because you disappeared!”
Lawrence raised a tight fist. Sirgis flinched briefly but willed his body to stay. He had to accept the blow. It was his duty.
The hit never connected, though.
“…No, I know it’s not your fault.” Lawrence slowly lowered his arm. He seemed utterly lost. “It’s mine. I’ve had countless opportunities to change, and I’ve known kind and thoughtful vassals. Still, I did nothing. I ran away at the slightest hint of trouble and took the easy way out…”
Lawrence held his head in both hands and sobbed.
“Why am I like this? All the regret in the world is pointless now.”
“…”
Sirgis couldn’t say anything. He felt like he had no right to speak and ease Lawrence’s pain. And so to heal the king’s heart here in this moment…
“It’s not pointless.”
…a new voice spoke from behind Sirgis. Startled, Lawrence looked up and spied a young girl.
“P-Princess Falanya…?!”
Princess Falanya of Natra stood before him.
“King Lawrence, you’re not too late. Delunio is in the midst of a crisis, but there’s still hope.”
“Wh-what are you saying? That’s impossi—”
“No, Your Majesty. Princess Falanya speaks the truth,” Sirgis cut in. “We have called upon you tonight to propose a solution.”
“What? N-no, wait…” Confusion, disbelief, doubt, and a mix of other emotions swirled in Lawrence’s heart. As he tried to brush these aside, Falanya stepped forward.
“Your Majesty, do you truly wish to change?”
“…”
Although she was still young, the king felt her radiate with undeniable power.
“If you wish to change, let’s start here. First, we can conquer your hesitation.” Falanya’s tone was affectionate. “I used to feel the same frustration as I mourned my own powerlessness. To move past this, I had to step forward and find my own strength.”
Lawrence gulped.
He sensed no devilish trickery in the young girl’s eyes. Their direct, reassuring presence was like a torch in a dark wasteland.
“Can I…really change?”
The words slipped out unbidden, and Falanya smiled.
“This is the first step. Come, take my hand.”
Falanya reached out. Lawrence wavered, fretted, pondered—then took it.
“Princess Falanya…?!”
Tolcheila’s and Mullein’s eyes went wide.
Natra’s Crown Princess Falanya.
As a guest of honor at the ceremony, she should have been entirely uninvolved in this matter. Why was she here? Tolcheila and Mullein were ignorant of Lawrence and Falanya’s rendezvous the day before and couldn’t begin to comprehend the reasoning.
However, further surprises awaited them. When Mullein looked behind the princess, he couldn’t contain his astonishment.
“Sirgis and…Yuan?!”
The former prime minister of Delunio and a runaway member of Eastern Levetia. The two entered the room to join Falanya.
“What in the world is… No, it doesn’t matter! Guards! Arrest that man! He’s the ringleader who infected our nation with Eastern Levetia’s paganism!” Mullein ordered.
The flustered guards did as they were told and rushed forward, but…
“Silence!”
…Sirgis’s rebuke stopped them in their tracks.
“Did you not hear King Lawrence? Delunio siding with Eastern Levetia is an utter fabrication! There is no reason to arrest him!”
The guards exchanged looks. The orders of the prime minister. The insistence of the king. The command of a former prime minister. They had no idea who to follow.
Caldmellia sighed. “I find this hard to believe. Are you suggesting we simply accept Natra’s verbal testimony that he and his kind are not of Eastern Levetia?”
Levetia claimed Yuan and his comrades belonged to Eastern Levetia. Delunio asserted they weren’t. The current issue was not a matter of who was right. This was a political tug-of-war to determine who held greater influence. Delunio had just upped its game by convincing Natra to agree with its side.
Nevertheless…
“That is not enough,” Caldmellia flatly rejected. “Even if a single nation like Natra declares otherwise, the Teachings of Levetia shall not accept such statements.”
As a failing society, Delunio’s political authority was minimal. In addition, Natra was evolving by leaps and bounds but couldn’t yet claim to be a superpower. There was also the touchy matter of the north’s cool attitude toward Levetia. A Natra and Delunio team up wasn’t enough to sway the Church’s opinion.
“Well then, what if the other nations agreed?” Falanya gathered the room’s attention with her remark. With all eyes upon her, she produced a letter. “This missive proves those labeled as being of Eastern Levetia are instead people sent to Delunio by their homeland. And the one to endorse this claim is—”
Falanya raised the letter up high for all to see. The contents were exactly as she said, and everyone gasped when they saw the signature at the bottom.
“Prince Miroslav of Falcasso?!”
It all happened before Delunio and Soljest came to blows. To the far south lay the warmest region, excluding the Patura Islands, the Falcasso Kingdom.
The country suffered under the constant threat of the Empire and clashed with its neighbor on multiple occasions.
The Falcasso, perhaps owing to the climate, were said to be a peaceable people, but the majority of the populace considered the Empire a sworn enemy.
“To think there’d come a day we’d invite an Imperial royal to our nation.”
“I must admit I never imagined I’d be here as a messenger.”
A man and woman sat across from each other in one of the rooms of the Falcasso palace. One was Falcasso’s Prince Miroslav. The other was Lowellmina, princess of the Earthworld Empire.
“In any case, the weather here is delightfully pleasant. I daresay it’s nothing like Natra to the north.”
“Even shadows freeze there, right? I hear the silver landscape is breathtaking in winter, though.”
“It’s certainly a sight worth seeing, though I’m afraid I can’t recommend braving the bitter cold for such a trip.”
“I’ve got high endurance, so I’ll be fine.” Miroslav’s lips curled up. “Still, it’ll be tough to go anywhere while my uncultured, barbaric neighbor continues acting up.”
“My goodness, who knew you had such a horrid country close by? Perhaps our empire should take them in and rescue them from the wretched woes of small-time governance.
Lowellmina and Miroslav laughed together, although there was no mirth in their eyes.
“Spending a fine moment with such a lovely woman is one of life’s many joys, but sadly my time is limited. Can we get to the subject at hand?”
“Impatient men aren’t well-liked, you know.”
“I’m well aware.”
“I do hope you’ll understand a woman’s heart better by my next visit, Prince Miroslav,” Lowellmina said. “My business today is quite simple. I came to help you.”
“Is that right? I haven’t heard anything so incredible since last year.”
“Oh my. And whom did you speak with last year?”
“Prince Wein at the Gathering of the Chosen.”
A peculiar expression crossed Lowellmina’s face. She coughed before collecting herself. “Falcasso is currently struggling from a food shortage that began last year and the spread of Eastern Levetia, correct?”
“…”
Miroslav neither confirmed nor denied this. Lowellmina continued, unfazed.
“I have two proposals to combat these issues. First, the Earthworld Empire will export food to Falcasso.”
“…Wait, are you serious?”
“Yes. Ours is a land of plenty. My faction controls a portion of our harvest, so I am able to loan you some.”
“I doubt your citizens will be very happy about that.”
Falcasso’s animosity wasn’t one-sided, after all. Countless battles had chipped away at Earthworld’s goodwill.
Lowellmina’s following words were even. “Indeed. Many of my citizens will protest if we sell food to Falcasso. However, trade between allied nations is a different story.”
Miroslav quickly realized what she was getting at.
“Hold on. You don’t mean…”
“Take Patura, for example! The Empire’s citizens have no quarrel with its people now that we’ve become allies thanks to my impressive, most marvelous feat. Should the archipelago have an occasional surplus of food and export it, I doubt the Empire would even notice.”
In short, the Empire would launder food to Falcasso through Patura.
Miroslav groaned at Lowellmina’s underlying intention. Yes, her plan was entirely feasible.
“I have one more proposal. Eastern Levetia has been giving your nation grief lately, has it not? You’re frustrated, I’m sure. Yet no matter how you oppress the followers, they scatter like baby spiders, only to return later. What if you establish a limited sector where Eastern Levetia is free to operate?”
“Don’t be ridiculous! Levetia will never recognize Eastern Levetia!”
“I know. That’s why it would be strictly unofficial. Eastern Levetia is also aware you have a position to uphold. If you promise them an informal region where they are allowed to practice, you can make Eastern Levetia devotees vow to follow those guidelines.” Lowellmina gave a luminous smile. “If you accept these proposals, Prince Miroslav, both your food shortage and religious troubles will be taken care of! It’s a marvelous deal! It would be pure madness to let such a chance slip away.”
It was absurd yet undeniably tempting. However, that put Miroslav on edge.
“…So, what do you want?”
“What do I want? I’m only trying to help.”
“Cut the crap. Just tell me. What do I have to do?”
Miroslav’s harsh insistence forced Lowellmina to answer.
“Will you strike my two brothers for me?”
“…You mean Bardloche’s and Manfred’s armies?”
Both were far from Falcasso, but Miroslav knew they were butting heads.
“My brothers are only pretending to fight. They have no intention of warring. Their soldiers have realized this as well, and morale is fading fast. The damage will be substantial if their forces are ambushed now.”
“A surprise attack won’t work if they can see us coming.”
“They won’t see you,” Lowellmina asserted. “My brothers have underestimated Falcasso and believe you won’t make a move. You’re dealing with famine and a religious conflict, and more importantly, you’re still in the middle of a power shift after a great king. Frankly, they look down on you.”
“…”
Lowellmina watched Miroslav turn angry. This fury wasn’t directed at her but at his own worthlessness. He understood that he didn’t have the clout to be held in any sort of regard.
“If you strike my brothers, you’ll earn the renown you so desire,” Lowellmina whispered sweetly. “As for justification, claim my brothers pretended to fight to hide their real plan to invade Falcasso. You only attacked first out of caution. The part about their charade is genuine, and considering how often the Empire has attacked Falcasso in the past, such intentions sound quite plausible.”
Lowellmina’s crafty rhetoric flowed like a song.
“If you strike the loathsome Earthworld Empire and deal a hard blow, your people will praise you. Plus, the Empire will recognize you as a formidable enemy, and you’ll have more influence in the West. When the time comes for you to attack Bardloche’s and Manfred’s armies, I swear on my own name that the main Imperial army waiting on standby will not respond.”
“……”
Only a demon could exploit human weakness and desire so precisely. How was someone like Lowellmina even produced? To Miroslav, this woman was as dangerous as Prince Wein.
Despite knowing the peril, the prince couldn’t resist the temptation.
“…Selling food to the enemy and demanding I attack your countrymen. Now I know what the face of high treason looks like.”
Miroslav extended his hand.
“Whether I am remembered as a traitor or a forward-thinking patriot is for history to decide. However, if you ask me—no one loves the Empire more.”
Lowellmina reached out as well. The two shook firmly, solidifying their secret pact.
“…Oh yes. I have one last request,” Lowellmina added as though remembering something. Miroslav frowned. “I hear Eastern Levetia has a presence in Delunio as well, but it seems to be in a precarious position. Could you kindly declare they are Falcasso citizens you sent?”
“…What the heck? Why should I do something like that?”
Lowellmina didn’t blame Miroslav for his bemusement. However, this was one of the conditions Wein mentioned in his letter.
“This is for your benefit, Prince Miroslav. If Eastern Levetia starts to proselytize heavily in the West, Levetia will take action before long. I wouldn’t be surprised if Eastern Levetia followers were expelled from the West entirely. Your Eastern Levetia district plan will be in trouble if that happens.”
“Ngh…”
If there was a movement to expel Eastern Levetia worshippers, Falcasso would have no choice but to follow suit. However, there was no way to eliminate every devotee in the West. This was especially true for Falcasso, which bordered the East. There was constant foot traffic on an average day, and Eastern Levetia members banned from the West would undoubtedly be more determined than ever to set down roots in Falcasso.
“We’ll both turn a blind eye to buy time. What do you think?”
“All right. But I’m only confirming their citizenship. Nothing more.”
“That will suffice. You have my gratitude, Prince Miroslav.”
Lowellmina felt immense relief now that she’d fulfilled Wein’s condition.
Now I just have to send a letter from Miroslav… But what’s all this for?
The princess couldn’t even begin to imagine, but she was almost certain Wein’s aim was to ruin someone’s day. Lowellmina’s thoughts turned to her distant friend.
No Comments Yet
Post a new comment
Register or Login