Chapter 2: The Milky Way
June 9th—
Regis glanced out the window. It wasn’t until the sun hung directly overhead that their destination finally peeked out from beyond the hills: Fort Boneire, a stronghold of ashen walls.
The grassy green plains bore the scars of an intense battle—the earth was bestrewn with hoofprints, dotted here and there by small craters where cannon shells had landed. There were no bodies, though. Corpses risked causing epidemics once they started to rot, so men and horses alike were given a prompt burial after any battle.
Soldiers often carried a rather substantial amount of money on their persons. There were times when they would need to make purchases even while serving in the military, and should they ever be forced to desert, whatever they had on hand would ultimately become their lifeline.
It was naturally considered a vile deed to loot corpses, but the lowest-ranking soldiers tasked with disposing of the bodies were given no more than a meager reward for their services, so this was a valuable opportunity for them to earn their bread. This practice was strictly limited to enemy corpses, however, since the belongings of allied soldiers were sent back to their families as mementos. Looting from fellow Belgarians who had courageously fallen in battle was considered an even heavier crime than stealing from the living, and it was severely discouraged by the church.
A mere half-day’s walk from the capital, Fort Boneire truly was the Empire’s last line of defense. But as it came fully into view, it became clear that its ramparts had been completely devastated—what had once been a massive gate was now little more than a large pile of rubble, almost as though it had been struck by a giant’s hammer. A great many soldiers were in the process of removing the remaining stones by hand.
The fortress itself wasn’t too old, and its stone gate had surely been sturdy enough; it was hard to imagine it could collapse on its own, yet even a volley of cannonballs wouldn’t have caused this much damage.
What happened here...?
The sight caused an anxious murmur to spread among the Fourth Army’s soldiers, who soon slowed their march. Altina joined them in their confusion, tilting her head from atop her trusty steed, Caracarla.
“What on earth could have done that?” she mused aloud.
As Altina led her horse closer, Regis leaned out the carriage window for a better look. “This is incredible...” he muttered.
“Hey, Regis. What do you think?”
“Hm... Gunpowder. But I’m intrigued as to how they managed to ignite so much so close to the gate.”
“Looks like Latrielle had a tough fight too.”
“With the fortress in a state like this, he was incredibly lucky that it wasn’t captured.”
“Do you think it’s all right for us to approach?”
“I’ve already heard back from the scouts. We shouldn’t drop our guard, of course, but I don’t think there’s any need for us to be particularly wary.”
“Gotcha!” Altina said with a nod, delivering a light kick to her horse’s flank. Caracarla promptly picked up the pace, leading her to the front of the march, and with the princess at the lead, her hesitant ranks of troops gained a second wind that carried them forward.
Once collected, the stone pieces that had made up the front gate would be placed in baskets, then transported far away from the fortress to be discarded. The soldiers carrying out this demolition work waved as they spotted the Fourth Army, raising cheers and jubilantly waving flags. The wind carried the tune of cheerful war songs.
Soon enough, Regis arrived at the fortress. He turned to Clarisse, who was sitting in the carriage alongside him. “You should probably wait in here for a little while longer.”
“Very well,” she responded in her usual gentle tone. “Take care.”
Regis alighted from the carriage and made his way over to Altina. She was already speaking with the commanding officer, who just so happened to be a familiar young knight.
“I’m delighted to have the opportunity to speak with you again, Princess!” the man said warmly.
“Why, if it isn’t Coignièra!” Altina exclaimed, a broad smile spread across her face. “You certainly look lively!”
As it turned out, the Seventh Army were the ones removing the rubble, and they were currently under Coignièra’s command. He had belittled the Beilschmidt border regiment once upon a time, yet his attitude had changed so dramatically since then that he almost seemed like a whole new person. His men seemed to be delighting in this reunion as well, temporarily pausing from their work to cheer even louder as Regis approached.
“Splendid work, Tactician!” Coignièra beamed, meeting him with a crisp salute.
“Oh, err... thank you.”
Regis frantically saluted back, having never expected the focus to turn to him. The last time they had seen one another, Coignièra was a second-grade combat officer, and there was a chance that his rank had risen even higher now that he had taken up a position of command. Given that Regis was at least one rank below him, he should have been the one to salute first.
“Long live the strategist, Regis d’Aurick!” cheered the Seventh Army.
Regis felt as though he might faint at any moment. With their defeat in the war for succession still fresh in his mind, these words of praise seemed so out of place. He had to wonder whether this was all just a dream.
As the tactician stood frozen on the spot, Altina gave him a firm pat on the back. “What are you spacing out for?” she asked. “Say something!”
“Wha—? Me?!”
“Do you see any other Regis d’Auricks around here?”
“No, but... Have I really done anything to deserve this?”
The princess gave a wry smile. “Good grief, just how Regis can one man be...?”
“You really haven’t changed one bit,” Coignièra said with a chuckle. “Admiral Bertram’s report has already become the talk of the army.”
“His report...?” Regis couldn’t seem to comprehend.
“Indeed! It was written that when the admiral sustained a serious injury, you took command in his place. Not only did you manage to outmaneuver the Queen’s Navy, but you were also able to capture one of the enemy’s latest ships and even take their commander prisoner!”
“That... That was only possible thanks to the excellence of the Empire’s navy. Sure, plans that involve diving into the sea at night aren’t too uncommon in certain books, but I’ve come to realize just how dangerous doing that actually is.”
It seemed that Coignièra wasn’t dissuaded in the slightest by these excuses. “Is it true that you sunk a ship with a single burst of dazzling flame?!” he asked, his face lit up like a young boy hearing a grand fairy tale. His men were similarly listening in intrigue.
“Right, yes...” Regis found himself shrinking back inadvertently; he didn’t dare say that the admiral’s report was a lie, especially considering that it wasn’t necessarily inaccurate to begin with. “We lost a few allied ships in turn, though.”
“Aah! How gripping!”
The clamor only continued to spread.
By nature, Regis grew sick to his stomach whenever he received a compliment—a disposition that soldiers who saw military achievements as things to be proud of could not begin to understand. Coignièra in particular went on and on.
“I also heard that you defeated the Mercenary King’s army of ten thousand with an ingenious scheme!”
“It was the princess who defeated the Mercenary King...”
“Why, they even say that you created fog! Is that actually possible?!”
“I did propose something to that effect, though it was the sapper Ferdinand who made it a reality. Of course, the soldiers also worked hard to—”
Before he could even finish his sentence, the Seventh Army’s soldiers were astir once again. A number of surprised exclamations could be heard coming from among their ranks.
“He made fog?!”
“He really is a wizard!”
“Wouldn’t wanna get on his bad side!”
Their reactions were of course warranted, since hardly anyone studied natural sciences in their day and age. Learning what caused rainfall or why rainbows formed would neither keep someone safe in battle nor put food on their table.
It was no surprise that they couldn’t quite grasp the concept of artificially generated fog or how Regis had managed to put it to use in a real combat situation. What they could understand, however, was that he had rendered High Britannia’s latest firearms powerless—the very same firearms that had devastated the Seventh Army during the Battle of La Frenge.
The soldiers’ wonder seemed to grow exponentially, and the more praise they heaped onto Regis, the sicker he became. He couldn’t see any logic in it; some things simply made him feel queasy.
In a desperate bid for escapism, he attempted to change the topic. “Incidentally... what happened to the gate? This looks like the aftermath of a gunpowder explosion.”
“How did you know?!”
“I can’t say exactly how it happened, but... a gate like that doesn’t just crumble on its own.”
“You’re right about that. The truth is...”
Coignièra went on to detail the enemy’s scheme. Someone had been hiding inside a seized barrel of gunpowder, blowing himself up just as it was passing through the gate.
Regis knitted his eyebrows in a deep frown. “What sort of a plan is that...? To die if you succeed...”
High Britannia’s strategist was a man by the name of Oswald. By some accounts, he was essentially acting as their commander too.
Altina was visibly enraged. “He ordered a soldier to commit suicide?!” she yelled. “What a disgraceful man!”
“Right...” Regis said with a nod.
He was standing before rows of soldiers and didn’t want to be misunderstood, so he refrained from voicing his true thoughts aloud, but... he didn’t find Oswald’s plan to be particularly vile. Between ordering an army to charge into grave danger and putting a select few people on a suicide mission, which was truly worse? Was the former really so noble and the latter so wrong? Why was it that sending one man to their death made someone a criminal, while sending ten thousand to the very same fate made them a hero?
There were no laws that would formally incriminate Oswald, but his deeds in this war would most likely come back to bite him eventually. Perhaps they would be mentioned when the war ended and conditions for a peace treaty were being decided, or maybe the Empire would simply invade in turn. It was ultimately up to Latrielle. Putting aside whether or not he actually took the throne, he still had command over the military; once war began, it was entirely up to him when and where it ended.
Coignièra gave a deep sigh. “I suffered a minor injury during the battle right before the explosion, so I had ventured to the infirmary at the back of the fortress. I escaped danger as a result, but Lieutenant General Buxerou of the Third Army and his Sun Knights weren’t quite so lucky...”
“I see...”
Regis closed his eyes, offering the fallen men a moment of silence. Something wasn’t sitting right with him, though. The enemy vanguard had marched toward the fortress and then fled, leaving their cannons and gunpowder behind. It should have been an obvious enough trap, especially since they knew their foe had such a competent commander. And yet, they took the bait as eagerly as fish in a pond.
Latrielle had made substantial gains in past wars, and Regis had no complaints about his credentials, yet it felt as though he had been somewhat... negligent this time around. He had approached this battle much too simply and was nowhere near scrutinous enough. Had his subordinates perhaps acted of their own volition?
That said, even if Regis had been there himself, he couldn’t imagine that things would have gone much differently. Had he said something along the lines of, “I don’t know what their plan is, but it’s probably a trap,” his peers would have almost certainly laughed and simply labeled him a coward. Such was unfortunately the norm, so his proposals would most likely have fallen on deaf ears.
“Has the second prince returned to Verseilles?” Regis asked.
Coignièra nodded. “Yes. High Britannia may have backed off, but there’s a chance they could take a detour and once again attempt to attack the capital.”
“Hm... And how has the High Britannian Army moved since their retreat?”
“We do have people tailing them, but they haven’t come back to us with intel yet.”
“I see.”
Just to be safe, Regis pressed Coignièra further on their patrols and their contact with the capital.
“Are we going to camp outside?” Altina asked. “Or should we stay in the fort?”
“If the Seventh Army are the only ones still stationed here, there should be enough space for us both. Let’s enter through the south gate and borrow some rooms.”
Altina relayed this to the troops. They all sounded delighted to be sleeping with a roof over their heads after spending so long out in the open.
Regis glanced over at the rubble. “Did Latrielle order you to remove that?”
“He did. Fort Boneire is the cornerstone of the capital’s defenses, so we’ll need to repair it as soon as we can... but at this rate, it might take a month just to clear the rocks away. Are we truly going to be all right?”
“If we had an enemy other than High Britannia deep in imperial territory right now, then we might have had cause for concern. But in our current position, I don’t think we have to worry about that.”
“Hm...”
“Is something bothering you?”
“On the off chance that High Britannia does return, the Seventh Army alone won’t be enough to hold them back. Our losses at La Frenge were considerable, and we suffered even more casualties while defending this fort. We don’t even have ten thousand men left, and our soldiers are all worn out.”
“Indeed... If they do return, please abandon the fortress.”
“Wait, what?!”
“You won’t be able to protect it like this, which means you’ll essentially be handing it over either way. Simply falling back shouldn’t be an issue.”
“Ah... I see.”
“Even if the enemy decided to barricade themselves in, they have no supplies, so they’d be forced to surrender eventually. I’m sure they wouldn’t make such a stupid decision in the first place, though, so you don’t have to worry about them coming back.”
“You... have a point, Tactician.” Coignièra narrowed his eyes slightly, then lowered his voice to a murmur. “If you had been by the prince’s side, I can’t help but wonder if we could have beaten High Britannia here as well.”
Regis gave a weak laugh, then shrugged. “In all honesty... I doubt it.”
As the two men conversed, the Empire’s Fourth Army entered the fortress.
✧ ✧ ✧
The setting sun dyed the former battlefield in hues of red—a breathtaking sight, but one that was somberly reminiscent of the recent bloodshed.
From the north, a party appeared waving the flag of the Empire: a two-horse carriage surrounded by horsemen on all sides. It was an envoy from the capital.
While the Seventh Army had been tasked with protecting Fort Boneire, Altina was still the highest-ranking officer present. Protocol dictated that she should be the one to welcome the messenger, and while some commanders would leave such a task to their subordinates, she was not one of them.
Regis was lying on his bed as still as a corpse, buried in a book, when there was a loud knock on his door. He had received a summons to join the princess in a meeting.
He was led to the conference room by one of Coignièra’s subordinates. It was a vast space, looking out across both the front entrance (which was now no more than rubble) and the southern plains. The window itself was broken too, having most likely fallen apart when the explosion great enough to destroy the gate had rocked the entire fortress.
Altina was already there when they arrived, sitting at the long table. There were a few others too, but the envoy was nowhere to be seen.
Regis respectfully lowered his head. “Sorry for my lateness.”
Coignièra rose from his seat. “No need to apologize, Tactician. Please, over here,” he said, urging him toward the seat beside Altina.
Regis shrunk back again, taking a curious look around once he was seated. There was cloth draped across the walls, small intricate ornamentations were placed here and there despite it being a structure intended for war, and the ceiling boasted an extravagant painting of God and his messengers. This was all customary for fortresses in Belgaria; it truly was a nation that aspired to greatness in both art and combat.
Waiting in the room, from the farthest back to those nearest the door, were Altina, Regis, Benjamin, Justin, and Coignièra.
Is that everyone...?
“Where is Sir Jerome?”
“Tending to his horse, apparently.”
“How scrupulous of him...”
“Indeed.”
Altina’s lips were bent into a harsh frown; Jerome presumably found meeting the envoy to be too much of a pain. Regis would need to report the important details to him later on.
“This is where General Latrielle took command,” Coignièra commented, attempting to fill the silence. “He looked down over the enemy army from that window.”
“He oversaw the battle from there?” Regis asked cautiously.
“Yes. I was present when he was discussing the enemy formation with his adjutant, Germain.”
“I heard that he was injured. How has he been lately?”
“He did call a doctor to his room on several occasions, but he was prepared to lead the charge at the very end of the battle, so I believe he is in good health.”
“Is that so?”
Regis had noticed that Latrielle was acting somewhat strangely the last time they saw one another. It had been weighing on his mind, but perhaps the prince truly wasn’t suffering from any lingering health concerns.
At that moment, a soldier called out from beyond the door. “The envoy from the capital has arrived!”
Coignièra exchanged a look with Altina, then gave his response. “Let them in.”
“Yes, sir!”
The door opened, and in stepped a robed woman accompanied by four cavalrymen in light armor. She had dark hair that reached her hips, long eyelashes, and tightly pursed lips. Her firmly set features gave her an air of majestic beauty, while the way she held herself made her seem like an intellectual of sorts. She was perhaps around the same age as Regis, and met those waiting in the conference room with a bow.
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Fanrine Veronica de Tiraso Laverde of the Ministry of Military Affairs.”
Her family name was immediately recognizable.
“Tiraso Laverde? Are you Elenore’s younger sister?” Altina asked, tilting her head to one side.
“Yes, my sister is greatly indebted to you,” Fanrine replied, her smile so elegant that there could be no denying she was the daughter of a prestigious house. “It is an honor to finally meet you under these circumstances.”
“Why are you working with the Ministry? House Tiraso Laverde is a ducal house with a booming business in the south, right?”
Officials of the Ministry were technically counted as soldiers, but they never went into battle themselves, instead spending a great majority of their time working in government offices. Such positions mainly existed so that noble children who weren’t skilled with a weapon could still gain military titles, making them similar to inspectors in some regard. As those in the Ministry never saw combat, it was even possible for women to find employment among its ranks—though this was still incredibly rare.
Fanrine pondered the princess’s question. “Are you asking why I entered the Ministry? Let me see... Unlike my sister, I had no interest in running a business. I’ve never been very good with numbers, you see.”
“Wait, doesn’t the Ministry deal with numbers?!”
“Oh, I suppose you’re right... How peculiar,” she replied with a refined giggle.
Fanrine was evidently quite an elusive woman. The confidence with which she spoke before someone who was both an imperial princess and commander of the Fourth Army was perhaps something she had inherited from her sister.
Regis urged her on. “I was under the impression that officials such as yourself rarely left the Ministry. Why have you come here?”
“I am here because I need to be here. First of all, please take this.”
She held out a letter to Altina. The imprint on the wax seal suggested that it was a directive from the Ministry of Military Affairs, which was confirmed to be the case when the princess opened it up and read the paper inside.
Soldiers from all over the Germanian Federation are gathering in Varden.
There is a risk that Fort Volks may be recaptured. The Fourth Army shall march to its defense.
Altina leaped up so suddenly that her chair flew back behind her. “This is an emergency!” she yelled.
The others in the room wore stiff expressions. Even Fanrine seemed surprised; the envoy was oftentimes not informed of the contents of their message, especially when they were officials rather than messengers.
“May I see it?” Regis asked, pinching the letter and bringing it up to his face. This normally would have been an incredibly ill-mannered thing for him to do, but Altina didn’t seem at all bothered. In any case, he couldn’t make any recommendations without first knowing the details.
He scanned the page.
“Mhm... I see... Looks like there was a report from our spies in Germania.”
Regis firmly believed that he needed his own information network, and while he was currently working to establish it, their lack of both funding and manpower had made it a rather slow process.
“Regis!” Altina exclaimed, wildly flailing her arms about. “This is no time to act so casually!”
“It’s all right. There’s a chance that they might attack, yes, but they’re still in the preparatory stages. What matters right now is that our soldiers are exhausted, so we should set off the day after tomorrow at the earliest. Before anything else, though—please take a seat, Princess.”
“R-Right.” She picked up her toppled chair and settled back into it.
“Hm, there’s more information here too... It’s about the east.”
“Oh, really?” Coignièra leaned over in interest.
Regis read aloud from the paper before handing it over. “‘Relations with Estaburg to the east are expected to decline. The Empire’s Seventh Army should watch for signs of any further movements.’”
“Does that mean abandoning our defenses here? Have they unequivocally determined that High Britannia is retreating?”
Regis nodded. “Their forces have headed north toward Germania. They haven’t yet left imperial territory, but... the Ministry seems to believe the First Army will be enough to take care of them.”
“Will they really be okay? The northern front is under the Third Army’s jurisdiction, but Lieutenant General Buxerou and his Sun Knights passed just the other day. They’ll need to reorganize.”
“Our northern defenses have indeed thinned out...”
The Second and Third Armies had seen considerable losses during their battles against High Britannia, leaving large gaps in their war fronts. There were reserve forces that could be sent to compensate for this, but the question was how best to use them.
Coignièra carefully scrutinized the letter. “Mn... Why would our relationship with Estaburg worsen? I understand there were hostilities between us for many years, but didn’t we take a consort of theirs just last winter as a sign of peace?”
As far as Belgaria was concerned, the kingdom of Estaburg was just a minor power. But it had eagerly been expanding its territory as of late, swallowing up the surrounding nations to expand its war potential. Even with these developments, however, its king was due to turn fifty that year, and their momentum was quite evidently on the decline.
As tensions mounted with Germania and High Britannia, Belgaria did not want to invest too many troops on the eastern front, and to this end, they had welcomed Princess Juhaprecia Octovia into the palace back in February as a show of unity. Now, however, the Ministry anticipated a worsening of relations, enough that they deemed it necessary to leave the capital unprotected.
Regis cocked his head. “Even with His Majesty’s death, not even half a year has passed since we brought Estaburg into the Belgarian royal family. I don’t see a particular reason why they would want to declare war. High Britannia is retreating as we speak...”
A few potential explanations did come to mind, but Regis thought it best to simply ask someone who already knew the circumstances. He turned to Fanrine.
“May I ask why you foresee worsening relations?”
She faltered for a moment before giving a reluctant answer. “It is because... Consort Juhaprecia has also passed away.”
“What?!”
Regis jumped to his feet in shock, Altina was at a complete loss for words, and Coignièra looked around with wide eyes. Even Fanrine silently cast her gaze down.
“Upon learning of His Majesty’s death,” she eventually continued, “she took her own life out of grief.”
“That’s absurd...” Regis inadvertently muttered.
Something about that didn’t sit right with him. It was true that the emperor’s death meant Juhaprecia would have lost her standing in the imperial court, but she still would have lived in ample luxury. There was no reason for her to kill herself.
“Took her own life out of grief?” Altina repeated, a deep crease running along her brow. “That woman’s not the sort to do something like that.”
That might not have been the most appropriate way to phrase it, but Regis agreed with the observation. While he had only briefly seen Juhaprecia during the commemoration festival, the way she had conducted herself certainly didn’t make her seem like the type to follow the emperor to the grave. He could not deny the possibility that she was a completely different person outside the public eye, but the events just seemed too unnatural.
“Do you know exactly how she took her own life?” Regis asked Fanrine.
“It is a tragic tale... She plunged a fruit knife into her own chest.”
Regis grimaced. That couldn’t have been true. Altina didn’t seem to have accepted it either.
“Something’s strange, don’t you think?” she asked. “For one, they keep saying that my father died of old age, but he was perfectly fine the last time I saw him. He was certainly eating more than his share of meat.”
“It definitely is strange...” Regis murmured in agreement.
“Things just don’t make sense.”
In the midst of their exchange, Benjamin suddenly interjected. “I do hope that I’m mistaken, but... you don’t suspect Prince Latrielle, do you?”
“I never said that,” Regis replied, attempting to smooth over the situation. But Altina immediately undermined his efforts.
“I mean, it doesn’t add up, no matter how you look at it!” she said.
Benjamin shook his head. “I believe in His Highness. That man is always thinking about the Empire’s future. He would never do something so terrible for his own gain.”
“I’m not so convinced,” Altina shot back. “I can’t believe in him. Back when I asked whether he poisoned Auguste, he wouldn’t give me a clear answer.”
“E-Excuse me?!”
“I can’t say that he gave the order or even intended for it to happen, but... there are people who want Latrielle to become emperor. They lurk in the shadows like venomous serpents, waiting for their chance to strike,” she said. Her voice seemed to exude more frustration than anger.
Benjamin wiped the sweat from his brow. “His Highness would never do something like this, though. Not for any selfish reason...”
Sure enough, Latrielle didn’t seem like someone who would act for personal gain; he was a true leader with the courage and sense of responsibility to leap into danger for the good of the Empire. And that was precisely why Regis suspected him.
“He could have done it for the sake of the Empire,” he suggested.
“Wha—?!”
Outwardly proposing that Latrielle had slain the emperor out of concern for the nation was insolent to no end, and so Regis had made sure to choose his words carefully.
Altina shrugged. “I don’t doubt that he’s worried about the Empire in his own way, and there are few things he wouldn’t do to secure his place on the throne. Does one instance in particular not come to mind, Sir Benjamin?”
“Whatever could you be referring to...?”
“I seem to recall someone kidnapping a silver-haired maid from Felicia’s mansion.”
“Erk?! Th-That’s...”
Soon after First Prince Auguste had succumbed to poison, his younger sister Felicia began to impersonate him, directed by her mother Second Consort Catherine, who just so happened to be a former actor. A maid with similar silver hair then began to impersonate Felicia in turn, feigning illness so that she could remain in Duke Touranne’s mansion.
That had all started close to a year ago.
During the festival to commemorate the founding of the nation, Latrielle had dragged the aforementioned maid to the capital as a means of cornering Auguste. More specifically, it was Benjamin and the Second Army who had barged into the duke’s estate to capture her.
Altina shrugged. “I don’t have much to say on that matter—not at this point. But Latrielle has proven how far he’d go. That’s why I have my doubts about him.”
“Urk... Mh... Ghh...”
Benjamin promptly shut his mouth. Voicing these thoughts was fine for someone like Altina, since she herself was royalty, but a mere marquis like him expressing such doubts might be considered lèse-majesté. Fanrine looked surprised but similarly kept silent.
Regis decided to step in. “Regardless of what we think on the matter, Prince Latrielle will surely be wary. He should be well aware how much suspicion this situation places on him. Furthermore, while Juhaprecia did not look like the sort to kill herself... there is no way we can really know for sure. We were no better than strangers to her, so I can’t say anything for certain.”
Benjamin nodded. “You’re right...”
“There are of course a few points of concern, but we’re only going off of rumors at the moment. We should rein in the army so that doubts aren’t cast purely based on speculation.”
And thus, the topic concluded on an entirely different note from how it had begun. The word “suspicious” was quite an understatement when it came to Juhaprecia’s suicide, but Regis had no way of dealing with it now.
I’ve already made some moves, but those aren’t enough...
He had chosen a few soldiers who seemed to have a knack for gathering intel and sent them ahead, but it quickly became clear that they weren’t specialists—they had proven unable to deal with this sudden development and ultimately failed to bring back any results. As such, Regis had yet to receive any usable reports. In fact, this was the first time he was hearing about Juhaprecia’s death.
The Empire’s official spies belonged to the Ministry of Military Affairs, meaning they were now Latrielle’s subordinates, although most high nobles would surely have their own personal spy networks as well. It would be near impossible to spread a surveillance net over the capital at this point in time.
Should I really let him take the initiative again...? This is a tough call. I’m at a complete loss.
Given the situation, it was already too late for Regis to make the optimal move. He knew that. And unlike before, he couldn’t just deal with the problems thrust at him. Nothing would change unless he actively made a move himself.
Perhaps a little recklessness was in order.
There was a sudden knock at the conference room door, and in came the maid Clarisse with a deep bow. As per usual, she was like a different woman entirely: monotone and expressionless.
“It is time for dinner. What arrangements shall I make?”
“It’s already that late?” Altina asked. “Could you have them bring it here? Officer Fanrine, you’re welcome to join us.”
“Oh my! Thank you. It’s quite the honor,” Fanrine responded, bending her knees slightly in a noble bow.
With that, Clarisse swiftly exited the room. It wasn’t long at all before a large platter laden with food was brought in.
The table was lined with ham, sausage, boiled potatoes, and pickled cabbage, as well as warm soup, soft bread, and even honey. Their food supplies had only just come in, so the meal was more extravagant than usual.
With their dinner taking up all the space on the table, Regis resorted to spreading his maps out on the wall—one showing Fort Volks, and the other showing Estaburg to the east.
“Err... Estaburg is small compared to Belgaria, but it does have a considerable influence over the eastern regions. Their aim, I presume, was to have Consort Juhaprecia bear a son with crimson hair and red eyes, then prop him up as the next emperor. They were striving to swallow the Empire whole.”
Such a development wasn’t particularly rare: consorts were essentially no better than political hostages, and in the case that a child they bore took the throne, their home territory would receive preferential treatment. It had happened a number of times over Belgaria’s lengthy history.
Regis brought everyone’s attention to the other map.
“Fort Volks was notoriously impregnable, so I can’t imagine it’ll be very easy to breach in the case of another attack. We currently have two thousand men defending it, and the Fourth Army totals thirteen thousand. That gives us fifteen thousand soldiers overall... which is perhaps too much for us to manage.”
Assuming the High Britannian Army had indeed retreated, it was relatively safe to say that the capital was no longer in immediate danger. The noble armies who had only joined on a temporary basis to help with the war effort would soon return to their territories, but with these troops totaling less than a thousand, their departure wouldn’t have all that big of an impact on Belgaria’s military capacity.
Altina furrowed her brow. “While I’d love to have Fort Volks so well protected, it troubles me knowing how weak our defenses are on the other war fronts.”
“It’s precisely as you say. There’s the budget to consider as well, which is a problem in itself. Returning to the issue of the east, though...”
Altina and Benjamin both began piling food onto their plates. Steam rose up from the meat and potatoes, accompanied by a delicious aroma that slowly spread through the room. After a bit of encouragement, Fanrine started eating as well.
Coignièra joined in as well, though he was still attentively listening to Regis’s explanation. When the focus moved on to where he and his men were due to be deployed, he stopped eating entirely, giving the tactician his full attention.
“With all the hills and deep forests in those parts,” Regis began, “using horsemen would simply be impossible. The imperial army specializes in head-on collisions between massive armies, while Estaburg excels at surprise attacks using smaller numbers, so they’ll prove quite the formidable opponents if we allow them to hide among the trees and snipe our men with arrows.”
Coignièra looked surprised. “Tactician, have you ever been stationed in the east?”
“No, I’ve only read the reports stored in the capital. If anything I say is inaccurate, please do speak up and tell me.”
“You’ve been right so far. But why would you have read those reports if you weren’t being stationed there?”
“Eh? Well, because I had access to them. I’ve read the contents of every shelf available to commoner administrative officers.”
“I-I see! And why is that?” Coignièra asked. It seemed there was no limit to his astonishment.
Regis scratched his head. “Let’s put that matter aside for the time being... I believe there are five thousand troops still garrisoned on the eastern border. Is that accurate? If so, how are they organized?”
“That number is correct, yes, but the majority are old soldiers and new recruits—those who we deemed unable to keep up with the expedition.”
“So those forces aren’t quite as strong as the figure suggests.”
“Correct.”
“How is the Seventh Army faring at the moment?”
Coignièra produced a folded sheet of paper from his waist pocket. “Ahem... We originally totaled twenty-one thousand. That number dropped to ten thousand during the Battle of La Frenge, and then decreased even further to eight thousand while we were defending Fort Boneire.”
“You lost that many in a defensive battle...?”
“Injuries aren’t our only concern; we’re losing an increasing number of men to illness...”
“I see. The war certainly has drawn on.”
“Most cases were brought on by fatigue or open wounds, but... there was a problem with our supplies too. We didn’t receive as much food as we ordered, and some was rotten when it arrived.”
“That sounds terrible...”
“And since the amount sent by the Ministry wasn’t enough, we had to put in orders from the nearby towns. But...” Coignièra trailed off, his expression turning bitter. It seemed he’d certainly had his share of problems.
Altina cocked her head. “That’s never happened to us though, right? Why’s that?”
“Supplies from the Ministry are often partially embezzled along the way,” Regis explained. “That’s why I always send soldiers to where the goods are coming from. They check the supplies every morning and every night, taking care to ensure that everything is accounted for.”
“Since when have you been doing that?!”
It wasn’t just Altina—everyone seemed surprised. Regis had assumed the practice was common enough knowledge, given that it was featured in several of his books, but this apparently wasn’t the case.
Coignièra had merely been a knight until recently, when the death of his superior officer saw him thrust into the position of commander. Benjamin and the Second Army, meanwhile, were normally charged with defending the capital; they rarely ever went on expeditions such as these. Perhaps these two men hadn’t even considered that someone would be so self-centered as to embezzle supplies during a war in which the Empire’s very existence was on the line.
Regis sighed. “To threaten so many lives for slight personal gain... Such foolish crimes often stem not from a lack of conscience, but rather from a lack of foresight. The embezzlers cannot fathom that one simple act might cause rampant starvation and illness among the troops on the front line, in turn bringing about the collapse of the Empire when we cannot maintain our defenses. As unfortunate as it is, their reasoning is shallow at best: they act simply because nobody is watching them.”
“Grr...” Coignièra groaned in frustration.
The greater the ramifications of an action, the harder they were to imagine. Everyone knew that killing a person to steal their money was a crime and that such a heinous act would require the perpetrator to be quite the villain. For an embezzler, however, it hardly even registered that ten thousand would go hungry and thousands would die.
It was similar to a builder taking careless shortcuts or a higher-up putting someone into an authoritative position based on favoritism alone: one hardly stopped to think about the potential consequences. Those who lacked the imagination to have such foresight could at times be far more terrifying than even the vilest of criminals.
Regis decided to bring the discussion back on topic. “Before this war,” he began, “the eastern front was supported by around twenty-six thousand soldiers. At present, the Seventh Army is only around thirteen thousand strong. I’m sure we could use some trickery to mask the gaps, but there’s a limit even to that.”
“We’ve put in a request to the Ministry for reinforcements...”
“Quite a few units were depleted in combat this time around, so that might take some time. On that note, I would like to make my own proposal—how about we send a portion of the Fourth Army to support you? I’ll need to look into the specifics a little more, but I believe we should be able to spare six thousand.”
Coignièra rose from his seat. “I couldn’t ask for more!”
Regis next looked at Benjamin. “I’m thinking of using the former Second Army as the core of our eastern support unit. There will, of course, be some officers from the former Beilschmidt border regiment going along with you.”
“...That sounds appropriate,” Benjamin replied with a nod.
At present, those who had served under the Beilschmidt border regiment and those who had served under the Second Army had zero coordination with one another; when they eventually met up with the other troops at the fortress, it would take quite some time for them to get acclimated. Regis intended to dispatch some competent officers to accompany them, training the two groups so that they would be more cooperative the next time they joined together.
There was also the fact that Benjamin was a noble in Latrielle’s faction—he would probably feel more at ease supporting the Seventh Army than accompanying Altina. Deep down, he surely wanted to return to the second prince in the capital, but he could not ignore a direct order from the Ministry.
It went without saying that gaining full control of the Second Army’s troops was an optimal move, but it wasn’t so simple to sway the human heart. Carelessly placing even a single inadequate person in charge would inevitably invite a revolt from the soldiers.
In any case, Regis was in need of capable officers. They needed to be experienced, popular, able to understand orders, and adaptable enough to cope with sudden changes. Above all else, however, they needed to be loyal. There was a chance they would one day have to confront Latrielle, the soon-to-be emperor, so it was crucial that they gather people who would follow Altina, even if doing so meant being branded as traitors.
Regis checked the map. “We’ll work out the details later. I’m sure the soldiers are tired from all the fighting and marching they’ve had to endure; we’ll allow them to rest today and tomorrow, with the aim of departing the day after.”
“That sounds good to me!” Altina exclaimed, nodding in agreement.
Coignièra, who was still standing up, met both Regis and Altina with a crisp salute. “I’m grateful for your assistance! The Beilschmidt border regiment saved us in the Battle of La Frenge as well... I shall never forget this debt. Please, if there’s anything that I can help you with, just say the word.”
Altina rose to her feet as well. “Thank you. I’ll be counting on that,” she said, holding out her right hand toward Coignièra.
“But of course!”
Thus, the two shook hands. Regis hadn’t intended for it, but it seemed a cooperative relationship had been formed with the Seventh Army.
Coignièra looked over at the tactician with a smile. “If we must face a formidable foe like High Britannia again, I would love for it to be under your command.”
“Ah, I’m afraid not,” he protested. “The princess is our commander; she’s the one who will take charge.”
Altina placed a hand on Regis’s shoulder. “Oh, what does it matter? Everyone knows that you’re the one thinking up the plans here!”
“No, that’s...”
Regis was pleased that Altina trusted him, but he worried about her becoming too dependent on her martial prowess as a commander.
When the discussion was over, all thoughts turned to reorganizing the battalions and preparing for the return to Fort Volks. It was precisely at this moment that Fanrine—who had up to that point been silently eating at the foot of the table—raised her hand.
“Might I say something?” she asked.
Altina nodded. “Go ahead.”
“I did not come here solely to deliver that one decree...” she said, producing a second note. “Could you please read this?”
She was holding it out to none other than Regis.
“Is this addressed to me...?”
“Yes. It’s a letter from my department.”
“From the Ministry... to me...?”
Regis had a terrible feeling about this.
✧ ✧ ✧
It was a summons from both the Ministry of Nobility and the Ministry of Military Affairs, singling out a certain “Regis Aurick.” What’s more, it demanded his immediate attendance.
“Th-This is...”
It was rather strongly worded.
Altina peeked over his shoulder, read the letter through, then slammed her hand against the table. “But we’re supposed to return to Fort Volks immediately! There’s no way we can answer these summons!”
Faced with the princess’s stern glare, Fanrine apologetically lowered her head. “My apologies. I fear it might not have reached you, but Sir Aurick was also meant to have received a summons last February. This directive has essentially gone ignored for almost half a year now.”
“Can you blame us?” Altina retorted. “Just how many battlefields do you think we’ve been dragged between since then?!”
“I do understand, but... it is because of those achievements that they wish to discuss an adequate reward. Before that can happen, though, Sir Aurick must be promoted to third-grade and issued the rank of chevalier. Otherwise, he will surely encounter a number of problems henceforth.”
“Surely none of those problems are great enough to warrant pulling a strategist from the front lines!”
“Mn... I am just a lowly official, so I can only relay the words of Minister Berard, but... ‘How could we possibly recognize a third-grade admin officer as strategist of the Fourth Army?’ is what he said...”
“Recognize?! What does that even mean?! Whether the minister recognizes him or not, Regis’s plans are what protected the capital. Don’t tell me he thinks you can fight a war with titles!”
“Eep... I’m sorry,” Fanrine squeaked, pulling back slightly.
“Now, now...” Regis interjected, trying to deescalate the situation. “There’s no use taking it out on her.”
“I-I know!”
“I still haven’t received my official notice, so as far as the Ministries are concerned, I’m still a fifth-grade administrative officer. I doubt they’ll sympathize with any reason you give as to why someone of such a lowly rank cannot be removed from the battlefield.”
The current situation aside, Regis did somewhat understand their position.
Fanrine nodded. “Soldiers are obligated to listen to orders from the Ministry of Military Affairs, and the Ministry of Nobility has been chasing us about your attendance for some time now. They seem rather irritated that they haven’t received a response in this long...”
“It’s hardly been the time for something like that...” Regis said with a sigh. He had sent a written report explaining his situation, but it seemed they had not deemed it necessary to warrant an exception.
“I’m very sorry,” Fanrine continued. “The Ministry of Nobility has been giving us quite an earful, asking why we are incapable of monitoring our own soldiers, or whether you are a liberalist... I believe you can infer the rest. They have been coming around every week.”
“Oh, I see... I suppose the title of chevalier is supposed to be the goal of every commoner; under normal circumstances, I should have dropped everything to answer them. Having someone ignore them for this long must be insulting to no end.”
“Ignoring a summons from the Ministry of Military Affairs, however, is a more serious matter. That would constitute a blatant breach of orders.”
“Perhaps, but—”
“I know about the circumstances, of course: the summons did not reach you on the outermost border. That is all in the past now. The reason I have been dispatched is to ensure that this does not happen again—that the message does indeed reach you. I was told to bring you back with me, no matter what it takes.”
“I’m sorry for all the trouble.”
“Oh, I am simply glad to have gotten the opportunity to meet you. But unless you comply, your standing will only decline from here. Please... won’t you answer the Ministry’s summons?”
Regis folded his arms, deep in thought. Based on what he knew so far, there was a high chance that Fort Volks would once again be attacked. And even though they had a larger army at their disposal now, their forces weren’t sufficiently coordinated; having more troops simply made them harder to use effectively.
Is it really all right for me to leave them?
“Can the promotion and the conferment be dealt with by filling out a few forms at the capital? I wouldn’t want to stay for any longer than a few days.”
“Unfortunately, the Ministry of Nobility’s procedures will take some time. Even though your title will not be hereditary, the point still stands that a commoner is becoming a noble. There are many things they will need you to remember, plus there are quite a few formalities involved.”
“How long might this take, exactly?”
“I presume somewhere between a week and a month.”
“That’s quite a while...”
As always, the work of government officers was so fastidiously ceremonious that efficiency was no longer even a consideration.
“On top of your promotion paperwork, the Ministry of Military Affairs will also need you to take an exam on military regulations, since a commissioned officer has separate duties from a non-commissioned one. Those will also take some time to learn.”
“That’s not very encouraging... Can I just turn down the promotion?”
Fanrine’s eyes widened. “Please reconsider.”
Ignoring the initial summons was evidently serious enough to have warranted sending an official, and now, outwardly declining it would be considered a breach of orders. It was urgent enough that noncompliance might even have Regis labeled a traitor. The reality was that this promotion was not some optional reward, but rather a mandatory decree; much like a demotion, he had no say in the matter.
“Well, I suppose I could just quit the military...”
“Ah, I do remember hearing that my sister solicited you. Would you become a merchant, perhaps?”
“That’s not exactly what I had in mind...”
Altina smacked the table again. “Regis! You can’t do that!”
“Don’t worry, Princess. I’m not becoming a merchant.”
What Regis had meant was quitting the military to accompany the Fourth Army. He couldn’t imagine it would cause any issues with the soldiers of the former border regiment; they recognized Altina as their commander, and Jerome served as their unifying force, so they would presumably still accept his proposals whether he was a soldier or not.
But what about the new recruits? It wouldn’t be easy to earn their trust, and no plan could succeed without the trust of all its participants.
“In any case, I will not accept this!” Altina declared, shaking her head in refusal.
“Still...” Fanrine had a troubled look on her face.
“Regis is currently fulfilling an important duty, and recalling him would put the army at a massive disadvantage! Don’t think I haven’t read up on military regulations. As a commander, I have some say over my subordinates’ actions, and it’s within my rights to submit a formal objection!”
“Yes, but... as High Britannia retreated so recently, the Ministry believes there is a low risk of any further hostilities in the near future. Your objection will most certainly be dismissed.”
“This is needless harassment!” Altina exclaimed, clenching her fists. She seemed to be having a hard time accepting this. “Those at the Ministry have never been to the front lines! What do they know?! A low risk of any further hostilities, they say? Did they believe there was a high risk before High Britannia invaded? How many soldiers died because the Ministry failed to predict the war? Because they made light of the enemy’s Sniders and steam engines?”
It was the duty of the Ministry of Military Affairs to gather intel. Had they learned that High Britannia was readying its forces, or gained some valuable information on the latest guns and steam engines, perhaps the Belgarian Army would have approached its battles differently.
After seeing so many dead bodies, Altina was understandably reluctant to concede. She was beautiful enough to have warranted sonnets from minstrels, but once angered, she was more intimidating than a ravenous wolf. Even seasoned soldiers would have faltered in her presence.
But right now, Fanrine exuded nothing but calm. “This summons is for the sake of Sir Aurick’s future,” she said, speaking in a soothing voice. “It is by no means a bad deal.”
“Urk...” Altina was at a sudden loss for words.
Regis personally had no interest in the promotion or the conferment: his main priority was fixing his mistakes that had allowed Latrielle to make such a decisive move. Altina becoming empress was no longer a realistic goal, but what else could she do to change the Empire? Regis wanted to help her find that new path.
Altina eventually gave in, seeming to understand that it wasn’t her place to deny Regis his promotion or his title. “You’re right... Regis has achieved more than enough to deserve this,” she said, slumping her shoulders. “I’m sorry.”
Regis scratched his head. “Let’s think about this calmly.”
“Yeah,” she feebly nodded.
Regis directed his next question at Fanrine. “Officer Tiraso Laverde, might we have some time to discuss the matter?”
“Fufu... I would not want others to confuse me for Elenore. Please, Sir Aurick—call me Fanrine.”
“Really? Then you can call me Regis.”
“How delightful. I shall gladly oblige. I am afraid that we cannot afford you too much time, but a few days should be doable.”
“Thank you. I’ll have my reply by tomorrow.”
Fanrine nodded, a soft smile on her lips. “Very well, Regis.”
✧ ✧ ✧
Late that night—
Sitting in the room he had been provided, Regis was hard at work, bathed in the flickering light of his oil lamp. His desk was covered with tall stacks of paper, as was his bed; he had unloaded so many documents from his carriage that he was surprised to have somehow found space for them all.
By now, Regis had already organized which soldiers would be heading to Fort Volks and which ones would be supporting the eastern front. He would need to leave any further fine-tuning to the officers stationed on-site.
With those arrangements made, he turned his attention to his own future. His quill raced across a sheet of paper as he tried to consider the situation from as many angles as possible.
“Yes... That seems like my only option.”
He reached out and grabbed the nearby oil lamp—an expensive piece that Altina had prepared for him. It was shaped like a teapot, and it was able to be carried around while lit thanks to its brass handle. Regis had previously used candles, but this alternative was a considerable deal brighter. It made doing paperwork quite a bit easier and alleviated the struggle of walking the halls at night.
Altina’s room wasn’t too far away. It was just at the end of the hall.
As Regis made his way over, the two sentries on night watch saluted him. “Tactician,” one said in a hushed voice, “the princess is probably asleep.”
“Oh, right. It’s already midnight. That’s troublesome. There are forms I need filled out by tomorrow morning... and I need her approval...”
Regis stood frozen in place, unsure what to do, while the two sentries exchanged a glance. It was then that they heard a small metallic click—the sound of a lock being unlatched. The door leading into Altina’s room cracked open just a slither, enough for a small trickle of candlelight to leak through. There was no silhouette, only a voice.
“Regis...?”
“Yes, sorry. I didn’t mean to visit you so late.”
Regis and the sentries hadn’t been speaking loud enough to wake her. In fact, the light coming from the room probably meant that she had already been awake, most likely waiting for him.
Altina spoke again, her door still not open enough for those outside to see her. “You’re welcome to wake me up whenever you need me. I wouldn’t like to think I’m an incompetent enough commander to turn away my strategist just because it’s nighttime.”
“A strategist who needs to wake his commander at the dead of night is probably the incompetent one...”
The princess giggled. “Then I’m counting on our conversation being worth the loss of sleep.”
“Ah... Maybe it’s best we wait until tomorrow, then.”
“Regis.”
“Hah. I’m only kidding. If you’ll pardon my intrusion...”
Regis nodded to the sentries as he walked past them, and they straightened their backs and saluted in response. He placed his hand on the doorknob, stepped inside, and then closed the door behind him.
Altina’s room was vast. Paintings adorned the walls, and the curtains were embellished with splendid embroidery. Standing in the glow of the candlelight was the princess herself, dressed in her white sleepwear—a silk gown minimally decorated with lace and ribbon. It was vaguely translucent, showing the gentle curves of her body.
“W-Wah?!” Regis inadvertently shuffled back.
Altina shushed him. “No strange noises. The sentries might get the wrong idea.”
The room was reasonably soundproof, but those stationed outside would still be able to hear them if they spoke too loudly.
“What... What are you wearing...?” Regis asked. He tried to cover his eyes, though he could still see through the gaps between his fingers.
“What else were you expecting? I was just about to go to sleep. It’s not like I can go to bed in a corset. I’d rather sleep in my armor.”
“Should I... come back in the morning?”
“Is my attire really that important to you? Turn around, then. I’ll get changed.”
“Sorry, but we’re short on time. You can stay like that. As long as that’s okay with you, that is.”
“It’s only a problem if you make it one!” Altina boldly declared, placing her hands on her hips. The red tinge to her cheeks seemed to suggest otherwise, though.
So she really is embarrassed... Regis thought. He kept that to himself, though; he hadn’t come here to see her in a nightgown, and he certainly didn’t intend to make it the topic of their conversation.
“It’s about what we were discussing over dinner...”
“Right. How do you plan to reply to the Ministry?”
“Firstly... what do you want me to do?”
“I can’t imagine you being away from the unit for an entire month. Even if we aren’t drawn into any battles during that time, I don’t know how we’ll manage by ourselves.”
“That’s a problem in itself...”
“Yeah... I know it’s not right to continue like this, placing such a heavy burden on you, but it’s not like we can magic up more admin officers to cover for your absence. Even if we could, it’d take them a good while to learn your job.”
“That’s... Yes, that’s true.”
Regis certainly wasn’t against the idea of sharing his work, assuming there were others who could handle it. He had been overworking himself ever since being assigned to Fort Sierck, and the workload had only grown more intense when they relocated to Fort Volks. Back then, he had just barely been able to get by thanks to the help of a select few soldiers who knew how to read and write.
Now that the Fourth Army had over ten thousand troops in its ranks, however, the amount of paperwork had reached the point where it was completely impossible for Regis to manage alone. And while he had hoped that absorbing the Second Army would mean more assistance, they weren’t faring much better: so many of their admin officers had died or fled when they were bested by High Britannia that only a few trainees remained.
With the Fourth Army’s current numbers, they would need around a thousand administrative officers. Having less than a hundred meant they wouldn’t even have enough capacity to fill out the necessary forms for new equipment.
Regis could understand why Altina needed him around, but that only made his announcement even harder to make. There was no other option, though. He looked up with as much resolve as he could muster, meeting the princess’s gaze.
Altina’s eyes, an even deeper crimson in the orange glow of the candlelight, wavered beneath her scarlet bangs. She lurched back, placing a hand to her chest. “Huh? Are you still concerned about my nightgown? D-Don’t stare at me so intensely...”
“Ah... No... Please listen to me.”
“What?”
He wavered. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure whether the move he had decided on was the best one to make—it certainly wasn’t the safest. But if everything went well, there would be much to gain.
Regis determinedly clenched his fists, looking the princess in the eye once more.
“I think I should go to the capital alone.”
“Wha—?!”
Altina was at a complete loss for words. Such a heavy silence fell over the room that it was as though they had both ceased breathing entirely.
“R-Regis...” she stammered, her shoulders quivering. “Are you serious?”
“I can’t stand lies, and I’m certainly no comedian.”
“You’re going to... abandon me...? And this army...?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“But, I mean, I... I can’t become empress anymore. So...”
“Wait, Altina. That’s not the reason I’m going. When I agreed to become your strategist, it wasn’t because I thought you were going to become empress.”
“Did you... Did you not think I could make it...?” she murmured weakly. Regis had never seen the princess look so utterly dejected.
He shook his head. “I made a promise that day. I’ve always believed in you. But right now, I think we need to make a realistic decision.”
Altina swallowed her breath, looking up at him. Her eyes were bleary, a few tearstains tracing her cheeks.
“Eh...?” Regis froze. A strange feeling had gripped his heart.
The princess wiped her eyes, then hurriedly turned away. She raced over to the bed and dove onto it, hunching over with her back to him and the white sheets pulled up over her head.
“Gh... Snff... Nn... Hic...”
“A-Are you crying?”
“Mh naht cryn!”
She definitely sounded like she was crying.
Regis tried to think what the protagonists from his stories would do at a time like this. Should he put a comforting arm over her shoulder? Say something tactful to dry her tears?
I... I can’t do it.
He merely slumped his shoulders. Altina was right there, trembling beneath the sheets, her breath catching with every sob, and yet he remained stock-still beside the bed.
His gaze wandered to the window—to the large moon that hung in the darkness outside and the glimmering celestial stream that spanned the night sky to form the Milky Way.
“Altina... I truly believe your wish can one day come true—that the Empire can thrive without war. Yes, the shortest route to accomplish that was for you to become empress, and I won’t deny that recent developments have made our goal harder to reach... but I haven’t fallen into despair.”
“You’re lying...” she mumbled.
“I told you, I can’t stand lies. Though I do like fiction... But please, listen to me.”
Altina didn’t react. Regis continued anyway, hoping she would hear him out.
“Latrielle isn’t just suspicious. He’s blatantly suspicious—that’s what bothers me the most. And there are too many things about Consort Juhaprecia’s death that just don’t sit right with me. Assuming the emperor’s assassination was indeed predetermined, what reason would there be to murder her too? As a widow, she would have lost her political influence, no longer posing any threat to the throne. Estaburg would certainly be displeased about their plan having failed, but so long as the girl they sent us remained alive, our relationship wouldn’t deteriorate enough to warrant war. To put it simply: Latrielle would have absolutely nothing to gain by killing Juhaprecia.”
Altina still remained silent. Regis patiently continued nonetheless.
“With that in mind... did His Majesty truly die of old age, causing Juhaprecia to take her own life in turn? I considered the possibility that there was an accident of some kind, but I can’t see that having happened either. No accident could occur in the royal palace that would result in both their deaths, and if this had been an accident, there would be no reason to cover one up as a suicide. If we discard the impossible, the only feasible explanation that comes to mind is... spontaneous murder.”
Altina swallowed her breath. The mere suggestion that Latrielle had murdered their father was no doubt hard to hear, but Regis couldn’t stop there. This matter was important for their future.
“Was inheritance the motive? Were there other emotions involved? Whatever the case, someone killed both His Majesty and Consort Juhaprecia without a plan. If we consider things that way, a few things begin to make sense. And the person responsible needs to have been influential enough to conceal the truth.”
“What do you mean?” Altina finally replied, though she still wouldn’t look at him.
“It requires quite a lot of authority to disguise a double murder. And at present, Latrielle is the only person with that kind of power who comes to mind.”
“Then... he really did kill Father?” she asked, her voice quavering.
Regis nodded. “Juhaprecia’s death was simply too bizarre. As you said, I can’t imagine her being the sort to take her own life. There was no political need either. Someone killed her on impulse, and Latrielle covered it up. I can’t say whether he did it himself.”
When Altina finally turned around, tears were streaming down her face. It was a painful sight to see, though the moonlight streaming in through the windows and the glow of the candles made it wistfully bewitching.
The princess removed the sheet from over her head, letting it drop behind her. Her disheveled red hair colored her porcelain skin like flowing blood.
“I understand...” she said weakly. “From what you’ve said, it definitely sounds like Father was murdered.”
Regis nodded. There was no guarantee that his conjecture was correct, but it was certainly plausible.
“Not even the royal family can avoid execution for raising a hand against the emperor,” he said. “And if Latrielle really was involved, his time on the throne will certainly be short-lived—his position would be revoked, and he would be treated as a false emperor. It would be like his coronation never happened.”
Altina moved to the edge of the bed, lowering her feet down to the floor. She looked up at Regis, but he couldn’t quite tell what her expression was. The only things that registered to him were her teary eyes.
“Latrielle killed my father... And now, am I going to have to kill my brother?”
“A frightening thought...”
“But... is that what’s needed to change the Empire?”
“I can’t deny it. But we’re still only talking about possibilities here.”
“I see...”
With that, Altina closed her eyes. Crystal-clear drops continued to run down her face.
Regis didn’t know how to stop her tears. Perhaps his actions would cause her to shed even more. But even so—
“I’m going to the capital to discover the truth. And as I’ve told you before, Latrielle might think differently now. Should he decide to pull back the war fronts, we should support him. Even if he is a false emperor.”
“Do you... want me to marry him?”
“Of course not. Why would I want that?”
“What if he demands it?”
“Even if Latrielle does end up putting an end to the wars, you’re still the Empire’s most accomplished commander in recent years. He’s not going to do something as stupid as remove you from office. It’s pointless to even assume that.”
“Mn... You think so?”
“Say the second prince did become anti-war, though... Would you want to marry him then?”
“If you don’t want me to, Regis, then I’ll happily decline.”
“Yeah, that’s not what I want. I refuse to even consider it.”
“I see...”
Altina wiped her eyes. She wasn’t crying anymore.
“I mean, even if your political interests align, becoming his spouse is much too dangerous,” Regis began, explaining the reasoning behind his decision. “There’s a chance that he might change his policy after you’ve been married. Someone might even be able to piece things together as I have, in which case his crimes would come to light. And if that happens—when that happens—there’s a risk that you’ll be seen as someone who supported the emperor’s murder.”
“Of course... You’re opposed to the marriage purely for political reasons. I knew it!” Altina exclaimed, tapering her lips. When she made that face, she looked a lot younger than she actually was.
Regis sighed. “Sorry... In all honesty, though, that’s only half the reason.”
“Oh? What’s the other half?”
“It’s incredibly selfish of me, and I don’t even understand it myself, but... I have this feeling deep down that I wouldn’t want to see you become Latrielle’s wife. I’m sorry. I can’t really explain it.”
He was ashamed to be speaking so irrationally.
“M-Me too... Becoming Latrielle’s wife is just... I couldn’t do it,” Altina said, her cheeks going red. “I’m happiest when I’m speaking with you like this, Regis. And if I did become someone’s wife, we wouldn’t be able to talk like this anymore.”
“...You’d also most likely have to quit the military. We wouldn’t be commander and strategist anymore.”
But even while we are commander and strategist, we probably shouldn’t meet in your bedroom at midnight... Regis tacked on internally.
Altina shook her head. “Then it just won’t work. I wouldn’t want to have to stop talking to you.”
She rubbed her eyes, which were now welling up with tears again. They had turned red at the corners.
“As long as you’re a commander, I will continue to be your strategist. I might be away for a while, but I’ll be back as soon as I can. And I might be gathering information, but if an enemy attacks Fort Volks, I’ll run there as fast as I can. Even if that means having to quit the army.”
“...Yeah,” Altina replied. It seemed as though she had wanted to say more, but she simply gave a nod.
“I’ll be back.”
“It’s okay. I’ll prove that we can do just fine, even without you. Ah, that reminds me—you can’t do anything dangerous, okay? You’re pretty weak.”
“You don’t have to tell me. I know that better than anyone.”
“Should I send a guard with you? If only Eric were here...”
“How do you think he’s doing? Do you reckon he’s healed yet? If it weren’t for him, I probably wouldn’t even be alive right now.”
“And if you had died, Belgaria would be in serious danger. He’s the hero who saved the nation. I’ll send you a letter on how he’s doing once I’m back at the fort.”
“I can’t wait. Oh, that’s right—here, let me teach you a code.”
“A code?”
“Yes. It’s used just in case a letter is intercepted.”
Regis listed out letters and numbers on some paper, showing Altina how they worked. The princess happily listened to his explanation.
“...Right, I should return to my room now. I’ll have all the necessary papers ready by noon tomorrow.”
“Yeah.”
“Make sure you hire some more administrative officers.”
“I’ll do something about that when I’m back at the fort.”
“I’ll try bringing it up with the Ministry too. Ah, that’s another reason to go to the capital.”
The two of them exchanged a brief chuckle, then Regis made his way to the door.
“...Please take care,” he said.
“I’ll be fine! I’ve trained diligently. I’m sturdy. I have loads of comrades. I’m good at fighting with a sword and riding horses. I can handle myself, no problem!”
“You’ve certainly got a point.”
“But you, on the other hand... You don’t train, you’re not sturdy, and you won’t have any comrades in the capital. You can’t even swing a sword or ride a horse...”
“Hah... I’ll make sure to look after myself.”
“Yeah.”
“Goodnight, Altina.”
“See you tomorrow, Regis.”
He turned his back to her, placing a hand on the doorknob. But before he could even turn it...
Altina embraced him from behind.
“Eh?!”
“No... Please, don’t go...”
