Chapter 3: Southbound
After witnessing the response to Latrielle’s announcement, Altina hadn’t needed any prompting to know that she should make a swift exit from the hall. Regis was trailing close behind her.
“Good grief...” he said. “This sure is getting messy.”
“Are things really that bad in the south?” Altina asked.
“Well, the war isn’t going great, which is troublesome enough...but I’m more worried about you being the généralissime. In fact, I consider that the main issue.”
Altina looked at Regis, puzzled. “The position’s one rank higher than a full general, right? I know that much. What’s so bad about it?”
“They say lacking greed is a virtue, but I think you just lack interest...” Regis sighed.
“Th-That so...?” Perhaps she would have lashed out at him before, but Altina now understood how crucial it was to address her shortcomings. As they walked down the hall fitted with green carpet, Regis went on.
“I can’t blame you, though. There hasn’t been a généralissime in Belgaria for a very long time. They only really existed on paper, so it’s understandable that you don’t know their significance.”
“So it’s not my fault, then!”
“Given your position in the military, I still think you should have known, but we have been thrown from one battle to the next. I’m partially to blame too.”
“You are?”
“I never brought it up. I’ll admit, that was because I never thought you’d actually receive the Généralissime’s Baton.”
“Do you mean this thing?” Altina asked, casually waving around the command baton she had received from Latrielle as proof of her new status. It was gold and almost entirely covered with intricate carvings, with a gemstone embedded at the end.
“Yeah,” Regis replied, watching her anxiously. “It’s been two hundred years since it left the treasury.”
“Hmm.”
“And with the right buyer, it could sell for more than any of the paintings we saw in the hall.”
“Huh?!” Altina almost dropped the baton in her shock, barely managing to grab it again before it passed the point of no return. “Aha ha... That sure was a close one. God, Regis... Don’t scare me like that.”
“I just lost three years of my lifespan,” Regis noted with a weary sigh, certain that his heart had just stopped. “Please don’t play around with a national treasure.”
“You’re telling me this little thing has enough value to put a dent in the Empire’s treasury...”
That treasured sword you swing around is worth even more... Regis wanted to say. He feared that disclosing this information would influence how she used it, however, so he kept the thought to himself.
Something about Altina had definitely changed. She had always been against spending excessively, but for a reason that Regis couldn’t possibly fathom, she now seemed to have an interest in the value of money too.
“In any case,” Regis said, “although the value of that baton is indeed impressive, the authority you’ve been given is even more outrageous.”
“Latrielle said it has something to do with commanding troops on multiple fronts, right?”
You just received a direct edict from the emperor, yet it sounds like you were barely paying attention...
“A généralissime doesn’t have the diplomatic power of a marshal general, meaning they can’t start a war or negotiate treaties, but they can raise, merge, and command multiple armies. They have virtually unlimited authority over all military affairs,” Regis explained. It was, in short, the highest rank an officer could achieve.
“I can raise an army?” Altina asked, her expression conflicted.
“You can hold and invite officers to a military council, where you have the authority to determine the rank, pay, and employment of the soldiers they command. With a single word, you can change the authority and working conditions of your own subordinates. Of course, you’re also free to assign and deploy them wherever you want.”
“Huh? That can’t be right... Isn’t the Ministry supposed to do all of that?” She was beginning to realize the sheer extent of the authority she had received.
“Latrielle said it himself, didn’t he? The Ministry isn’t up to his standards. In fact, I think he’s going to dismantle it entirely.”
“Why?”
“Belgaria suffered massive losses from only thirty thousand High Britannian soldiers. You were livid about it, weren’t you?”
“Yeah...”
“The reason for our struggle was that we were much less prepared than our foe, so it stands to reason that the Ministry should take responsibility. Sure, the faces can change, but if the structure remains the same, we will see no improvement. Or at least, I believe that’s what the emperor has decided.”
“S-So you’re saying...”
“The emperor and the généralissime shall take the Ministry’s place in commanding the entire imperial army.”
There was a chance that Latrielle might appoint more généralissimes, but doing so wouldn’t be easy considering the current state of the army. Regis wasn’t sure whether he would just strip the Ministry of Military Affairs of its power or do away with it entirely. It was presumably going to depend on how Minister Berard finessed the situation.
“N-No way!” Altina exclaimed, her mouth hanging open. “You can’t just drop a bombshell like that on me!”
“I would have preferred to see that reaction before you accepted the baton. Well, whatever the case, you’ve got little option but to accept it.”
“Ah, right... My standing as a princess is meaningless now. I should instead focus on climbing the ranks as a soldier.”
“Yeah.”
Altina smiled. “So, in a sense, I suppose this is a good thing.”
Regis responded only with an ambiguous nod.
✧ ✧ ✧
Regis and Altina left the palace, having been forced to use a carriage to navigate the crowds of reporters and spectators outside the gate. Verseilles was in the midst of a ceremony that would presumably continue for at least a week, so the driver was instructed to avoid the main roads. Instead, he drew a semicircle around the capital and made for a particular residence—namely, the estate belonging to House Tiraso Laverde. This was where Altina and those close to her were opting to stay, since their poor relationship with the First Army and a good number of the noble class had made being in the imperial palace less than ideal.
Soldiers of the Fourth Army guarded the gate as though this were their strategic headquarters on the battlefield. They had even flown their flag over the yard.
Regis and Altina stepped down from the carriage to lines of servants who had come to welcome them, and the front doors of the villa opened to herald a familiar noblewoman: Fanrine. “Princess Argentina. Regis. Splendid work,” she said.
“Likewise,” the princess replied.
“Thank you. I was unable to attend the banquet, so I was only present for the ceremony. My grandfather should have been there, though.”
“Around half of the southern nobles were absent, even though we finally gained their support... Is it because I lost the power struggle?”
“There isn’t much you could have done about that; the previous emperor passed far sooner than expected.”
Altina paused. “Are you all right? Latrielle hasn’t made any strange demands, has he?”
“I can’t really say... More importantly, though, I’m aware you were appointed généralissime. Congratulations.”
“You heard already?”
“Of course! In high society, they say that rumors travel with the faeries.”
So she said, but House Tiraso Laverde was the rallying power for the southern nobles, and it maintained a substantial information network within the capital. One of the nobles in attendance had presumably sent one of their servants to deliver the news while Regis and Altina’s carriage was stalled on the crowded streets.
“Would you like to chat over a meal?” Fanrine asked as she gestured them inside. “It won’t come close to a palace banquet, but I have prepared a meager celebration.”
“That sounds good to me!” Altina exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “I haven’t had a chance to eat all day. I’m starving!”
Fanrine giggled. “Glad to hear it.”
“I’ll come to the dining hall as soon as I’ve changed!”
“Of course.”
Clarisse the maid was awaiting them from behind Fanrine. “Welcome back, Princess,” she said as she took Altina’s bags.
“That was way more tiring than sword practice,” Altina remarked. “Can you help me change out of all this?”
The maid responded with a silent nod. Aside from when she was in the presence of a select few, she maintained a blank expression and spoke in a level tone that revealed no emotion, such that she seemed uncanny when compared to the servants of the estate.
Regis met Clarisse’s gaze, but the maid said nothing. They had just recently reunited after a long time apart, but the situation meant he had been much too busy to speak with her. That said, he was a tactician, and she was the princess’s maid; before he could make time, he would have to devise a reason to talk in the first place.
“Come now, Regis. You too,” Fanrine said.
“Me? Am I to take part in this celebration?”
“Of course! You’ve finally reached first-grade! It’s harder to get promoted in administration than combat, and I’ve never heard of a first-grade admin officer as young as you. Isn’t that incredible?”
“Yeah... In my case, Latrielle promoted me for my achievements on the battlefield, so I can’t really say it was for administration...”
“You don’t have to think so hard about it. However it came about, you received your promotion because your hard work was recognized. Now, let’s get you into something dry. You’ll catch a cold in those damp clothes.”
“Yeah.”
“Please, allow me to help you.”
“No, I’m good...” Regis politely turned down the proposal and then practically fled to the room he was borrowing on the third floor. As he was making his way upstairs, he ran into Eddie.
“Yo, Regis!”
“Ah, Sir Eddie. You look well.”
“What’s with that, man? We’re of the same status now. Loosen up.”
“Pardon?”
“I’m a first-grade combat officer, and you’re a first-grade admin officer.”
“That’s true, but...I’m a chevalier, and you’re a duke, Sir Eddie.”
“You sure are sweating the small stuff... Fine, then we’re the same rank on the battlefield. How’s that sound to you?”
“This feels a little sudden...”
“You talk normally to Argentina, don’t you? I don’t have many friends here, see, and Latrielle’s gotten so distant...”
It seemed that Eddie had once been close friends with the second prince turned emperor; in their youth, the two had practiced swordplay and ridden horses together. Now that Eddie was First Prince Auguste’s bodyguard and a part of Fourth Princess Argentina’s camp, however, it was hard for them to meet on friendly terms.
Now that I think about it, the Fourth Army doesn’t have any real connections to high society. There was hardly anyone that Eddie, as both a duke and a first-grade combat officer, could engage with on a personal level.
“And that’s why you’ve picked me?” Regis asked.
“Felicia calls you a good friend, so it stands to reason that we should get along too.”
“It would be presumptuous of me to refer to Her Highness, Fifth Princess Felicia as a good friend...”
“She was real ecstatic, telling me how you absolutely crushed her at chess. Apparently, she really liked how you didn’t hold back at all.”
“B-Back then, I...”
Regis had agreed to play some chess right after the national day celebrations, but his mind had been so focused on the officer work that had piled up that he hadn’t thought to hold back. Before he knew it, he was always only a few moves away from winning each game. He was glad that Felicia wasn’t angry about it, but it was far too heavy of a burden on him to be friends with royals.
“Now, now.” Eddie gave Regis an affable pat on the shoulder. “Let’s all get along, eh?”
For a commoner like Regis, befriending a duke wasn’t much better, but he understood that turning Eddie down would only come across as rude. For that reason, he conceded with a quiet, “I’ll do my best.”
“Excellent. Oh, by the way—how was the banquet?” Eddie asked, promptly changing the subject.
“It was pretty luxurious. There were so many art pieces on display that it was like a museum—or like a gallery, I suppose. It seems they’re planning to sell them to fill the war chest.”
Eddie chuckled. “Sounds like something Latrielle would do. He was always going on about how guilty he felt, keeping those works of art locked away where no one could see them.”
“Those don’t sound like the words of a royal... Could his cousin have played a role in that?”
The smile vanished from Eddie’s face. “Beatrice, eh? I wouldn’t doubt it. You really do know everything...” he said with a sigh.
Regis didn’t know the details, nor was he familiar with any Beatrices; he had either forgotten about her or she had gone unnamed in the books he had read. It bothered him, but they were hardly in the right place for such a conversation, and he didn’t want to dig into the matter while unprepared.
“Let’s talk about it another time,” Regis said.
“Yeah... Guess I’m holding you up.”
“I’ll get changed.”
“Right. See you at the dining hall.”
Once the two had exchanged their temporary farewells, Regis parted with Eddie and returned to his room.
✧ ✧ ✧
Regis ultimately settled on wearing his usual Fourth Army uniform. It was the outfit he was most used to, and after wearing only borrowed clothing for just under a month, donning his old colors filled him with a strange sense of nostalgia.
There was a tapping at the door.
“Come in.”
The first to enter was Third Prince Bastian. “Hey, Regis. You got a moment?” he asked.
“Sir Regis. Good work keeping it together at the ceremony,” Elize said, coming in behind him. “I also heard something about Princess Argentina being appointed généralissime. May she be blessed with fortune on the battlefield.”
The girl from High Britannia would occasionally exude a strangely noble air. She looked no different from a normal girl, but for some reason—perhaps because she stood so straight or because she spoke so boldly—Regis felt like correcting his posture.
“Going south, right?” Bastian asked with a strained smile.
Regis nodded. “Correct.”
“Right... Sorry, but I’ll be staying in the capital. There’s still a ton I need to do here. Well, a ton I still need to learn from Professor Bourgine.”
“I understand. You’re not part of the army, so there’s no reason for you to head to a war zone.”
“Something tells me I should be pooling my strength with Argentina’s, but...at this rate, I feel like I’ll end up believing every word you say, Regis. I’ll start acting without thinking.”
“I’m not trying to incite you. Honestly.”
“I get that. Just means I need to study more.”
“Well, do your best.”
“No need to tell me! I’ve got to put in the work for my future masterpiece! Ah, that aside...could I ask for a bit of a favor?”
“Go on.”
“See, Elize here... I was wondering if you could get her to the Tiraso Laverde estate down south.”
“The main house?”
Elize lowered her head. “Could you please?”
“W-Wait a second,” Regis stammered. “What’s going on? Aren’t you two...?”
“What are you talking about, Sir Regis?!” Elize exclaimed, waving her arms around frantically. “Bastian and I do not have a deeper relationship in any sense, framing, or definition of the term!” Her face was bright red, so it was clear to see she was speaking out of embarrassment.
“R-Right...” Bastian added, hanging his head.
Regis looked at them quizzically. “Guarding important personnel is a duty of the imperial army, especially when done at the request of the Third Prince himself. But, if you would allow me to ask...why would you need to head off to a war zone?”
Elize was at a loss for words, so Bastian answered in her place. “Elize needs to get to the Tiraso Laverde manor, no matter what. I’m really sorry, but I can’t tell you any more than that.”
“I see...”
“I’d come along too, but...” Bastian trailed off, balling his hands into tight fists.
Elize shook her head. “You’ve saved me far too many times already. If you followed me south, I’m sure you would follow me all the way across the sea. Instead, what you need right now is to study. This is going to be the most important moment of your life, Bastian, and I cannot bring myself to snatch it away from you,” she said, her tone calm but resolute.
“I get that,” Bastian muttered, biting his lip. “We’ve already reached an agreement.”
“You’re a good boy...” Elize said. Although she looked like a young lass, the way she spoke made her seem like an older sister or perhaps even a mother.
“I’ll come to see you. Mark my words.”
“I’ll be waiting. Once I fulfill my own duty.”
“Next we meet, I’ll make good on that promise we made. You’ll finally be reading my masterpiece.”
“Erk... Not the most encouraging prospect, but I’ll steel myself.”
“It’ll be a blast, I tell you! A romance so great you’ll be laughing your guts out!”
“Laughing your guts out”? Should that really be the aim of a love story? Regis wondered. There were more pressing matters at hand, though. Based on their conversations, he had a rough idea of who Elize really was, and he could imagine why she would need to cross the ocean at a time like this.
Elize turned to Regis. “If I am to be under your care, there’s something I must confess...”
“Oh, no... Given my position, it will be quite a bit more convenient if you remain Ms. Elize, a transfer student from High Britannia.”
“Huh?”
“I might not be much, but I’ve become the tactician of the généralissime’s military council. I am roughly equivalent to the aide to the Minister of Military Affairs.”
“Assuming Princess Argentina does indeed open a council.”
“And so, if news broke that you knowingly hid something from me, it would be considered a serious breach of national trust. This wouldn’t be the case if nobody ever noticed.”
“Regis...”
“After all, I’m not nearly as capable as everyone makes me out to be. There are plenty of things that slip by me. Aha ha.”
Elize bowed reverently. “Personally, and as the representative of all that I stand for, I offer my utmost gratitude.”
“Yeah.” Bastian held out his right hand. “Thanks, Regis.”
“I think I understand how it feels to part from those who are precious to you. I’ll get her there, no matter what it takes,” Regis declared, taking the hand the prince had presented to him. The gesture hadn’t come naturally to him—in fact, he had been rather hesitant about it, not wanting to come across as too arrogant—but it was necessary to acknowledge the trust being placed in him.
Bastian’s eyes began to well up with tears, and his shoulders trembled with each labored breath. “I-I’m counting on you...” he managed to choke out.
“Owww!” Regis cried out. “Ow, ow, ow!”
“Ah, my bad! Guess I used too much strength.”
“I really thought it was about to break there...” Regis commented as he shook his now throbbing hand. Either he was too weak, or Bastian was too strong. Presumably, it was a mixture of both.
Elize started to giggle, but there was no hiding the transparent droplets that had risen to her eyes.
✧ ✧ ✧
Bastian and Elize did not attend dinner; instead, they opted to leave the villa, stating that they wished to spend their remaining time together alone. Since the third prince had now signified his allegiance with the fourth princess’s faction, he no longer had a place in the palace. He was apparently having to stay with his grandfather, Marquis Bergerac.
Regis had promised to send someone for Elize once the date of their deployment was decided. He was now heading to the dining hall, hastening down one of the villa’s corridors, having run a tad late. It was as he hurried along that he noticed one of the doors up ahead was cracked open. Just as he passed it, a pale, slender hand shot out from the room beyond, grabbing the tactician by the sleeve.
“Huh?”
Regis was yanked into the room with far more strength than he would have expected from such a gangly limb. He tumbled to the floor with a cry as the door behind him was swiftly pushed shut.
What just happened?!
The room was small, used to house the servants of guests or keep their belongings. Someone had mounted him to keep him still, although they weren’t as heavy as he had expected.
“Keep quiet,” spoke a female voice. Regis needed a moment to regain his composure, but when he looked at the woman before him properly, he saw that she was a lavish-looking young lady with ghastly pale skin and hair.
“Ms. Jessica?!”
“Quiet.”
“What’s all this?”
Jessica was made up to look like a young noblewoman. Her dress—which was predominantly white—suited her well. She wouldn’t look out of place in the villa, but her looks would perhaps attract the eyes of the men on the estate. Those of the Fourth Army had already been told who she was and that she was their ally for now, so there was little reason for her to forcefully meet him in secret like this.
Jessica sighed. “The Fourth Army’s soldiers are on the prowl.”
“Y-Yeah.”
“They know I am with Renard Pendu.”
The day before, Regis had reunited with the Fourth Army with the mercenary brigade’s assistance. Doing this had prevented a confrontation with the First Army.
“I made sure to explain that you are on our side,” Regis said. “They truly understand, and I believe they are quite grateful for the assistance.”
“Perhaps on the surface, but you seem to have forgotten—we may have lost, but Renard Pendu killed a great many imperial soldiers in West La Frenge.”
“Right...”
She was referring to the battle during which Regis had artificially produced fog to devastate High Britannia’s supply unit. Although the Fourth Army had come out victorious, they had ended up losing far more troops than anticipated. He also remembered the surprise attack that Renard Pendu had launched on their headquarters.
Jessica carefully watched the door as heavy footsteps passed through the corridor. “I...cannot trust as easily as you do. Anyone who holds a grudge might choose to cut me down, should the opportunity present itself.”
“I chose veteran soldiers for the security detail. They’re rational men.”
“Far too many mercenaries have been strung along with such naive notions. At times, we may raise the flag of surrender or fake injury to disarm our foe. The more we deceive, the more cautious we become of getting deceived ourselves.”
“I see.”
“Say I pressed a blade to your throat right now—would that not make this whole ordeal so much quicker? I could force the princess to trade my brother for her tactician.”
“I’m sure she would indeed release Gilbert if you did that, but...what happens next? I believe we’ve already discussed this, but you would need to escape Belgarian pursuit while your reputation in its surrounding nations is at rock bottom. It’s a rather harsh situation to enter willingly—you do understand that, don’t you?”
“I do. That is why I formed this personal alliance with you.”
“That’s good to hear. Now, I would really appreciate you getting off of me.”
Regis didn’t think she was particularly heavy; the situation was just unsettling. It was bad enough that he was starting to feel the warmth of her body through his clothes, but being pushed down by a strong-willed woman was stirring up his past trauma and inducing a cold sweat.
“Since you have so graciously tested my memory, it seems only fair that I test yours,” Jessica said. “Your men are soon to relocate south, I hear...but is my brother not at Fort Volks in the exact opposite direction?” There was a hint of anger in her voice—quite a rare occurrence, as she scarcely ever let her emotions breach her cold facade.
“Hmm. I see...” Regis pondered the situation for a moment. “Renard Pendu has only seven hundred survivors—not enough to rescue Gilbert from Fort Volks—and so you decided to start by taking me hostage. After giving it a little thought, however, you’ve come to the conclusion that we’re better off working together.”
“Indeed. But only if my brother is saved as a result.”
“Why are you in such a hurry?”
“I am unsure how things look to you, but our brigade is reaching its limit. Morale is low; we persist because my brother’s salvation is so near. Also, our members are not the most refined bunch. Camping right outside the capital among so many imperial soldiers is like toeing the edge of the gallows with the nooses already around our necks.”
“Are things really that bad...?”
“None of us trust the imperial soldiers. We never know when they might stab us in the back.” Jessica suddenly produced a small blade and pressed it against Regis’s neck. He couldn’t help but wonder where in her seemingly ordinary dress she had been hiding it. “Answer me this, Regis d’Aurick... Have you deceived me?”
“I would never.”
“But you march south.”
“I never thought you’d feel this cornered. Fear not, though; I’ll take some measures to answer your expectations.”
“Another verbal promise?”
“The situation took a sudden turn only moments ago.”
“You already kept us waiting while you were scheming in the capital, Sir Aurick. Franziska was injured. How long must I obey you without being paid even a single copper coin?”
“Ah, when you put it like that... You’re fully justified to be angry at me. This is my fault.”
Jessica had saved Regis from Latrielle’s assassination attempt and aided him in crossing the mountains to escape the prince’s search efforts. She had supplied him with food, water, and shelter. She had guarded him. She had even exposed her troops to danger by advancing toward the Fourth Army—toward a military force that had been fully prepared for combat.
Imperial soldiers were paid wages, and the potential for awards and promotions incentivized hard work. Mercenaries, however, were moved only by payment and contract. They would also normally receive half of their contractual fee in advance.
“I understand your predicament,” Regis said, sounding rather troubled, “but it’s going to take us some time to muster together a sum that will satisfy you. The Fourth Army is short on funds, and while we are scheduled to receive money to cover the costs of the généralissime’s military council, it won’t arrive until next month at the earliest.”
“So you want me to wait even longer?”
“You’re going to have to trust me, but it’s not as though I haven’t done anything for you. Very soon, you’ll want to head south with us.”
“For what reason?”
Regis could feel the cold of the blade on his neck as Jessica’s face drew nearer and nearer. She was a pretty woman, as far as he could tell. It was usually hard to guess what was going through her mind, but it seemed she was growing emotional.
“I should have told you sooner...” Regis said. “I explained your situation to the princess. To repay you for saving me, she’s agreed to Gilbert’s release.”
Jessica’s eyes shot open. “I-Is that true?!”
“As I said...you’re going to have to trust me,” Regis replied. He hadn’t drafted any formal documents on the matter that he could use to back up his claim—something that Jessica quickly seemed to infer, as she looked very discontent.
“Why would you not put something so important down on paper? Are you saying that my brother’s treatment is not worth such effort?”
“When you and the Mercenary King discuss Renard Pendu’s next course of action, do you always document your plans?”
“There is no need.”
“The same is true for the princess and me,” Regis said. Upon hearing that, Jessica drew back the blade and finally allowed him to stand. “I really thought you were going to cut me,” he muttered, wiping away the sweat that was beading on his nape.
“This is a fake knife.”
“Huh?!”
Jessica pressed the apparent sharp edge against her hand. Just as she had claimed, it failed to draw even a single drop of blood. “Blades have never been my strong suit, and it would have been quite an issue had I stabbed you by mistake.”
“Then...don’t tell me your impulsive behavior was all an act.”
“I shall leave that to your imagination.”
Regis let out a sigh; she was back to her usual self. “I’ll send a letter to Gilbert,” he said. “I promise that he’s going to walk free, but what he does after that is up to him. I cannot guarantee that he’ll meet up with us.”
“...Of course.”
“Personally, I’m hoping he lends us his strength. That’s why I’ll add a request for him to head south as well,” Regis explained. He had no intention of sending a formal order, since he didn’t know whether Gilbert would even choose to join their side. His hope was that the Mercenary King would recognize the southern front as an opportunity to salvage his brigade’s reputation.
Jessica straightened her dress. It seemed that she believed him, at least for now. “If what you say is the truth, then you have my gratitude. Just do not forget our contract,” she said. In exchange for her personal cooperation, Regis had agreed to provide Renard Pendu with supplies.
“I’ll honor my promise,” Regis assured her. “Incidentally, are you going to join us for supper?”
“Sir Aurick... A noble would never invite a lowly mercenary to the table.”
“Are you sure?”
“Even if one did, it would only be uncomfortable for me. I refuse.”
“Well, I’m not going to force you.”
Jessica pointed at the door, as if demanding that he leave at once. “Worse yet, entering the hall by your side would make me the target of Princess Argentina’s envy. I would hardly call that a fair trade.”
✧ ✧ ✧
Regis had only intended to change his clothes, but now he had been gone for quite some time. He popped his head into the dining hall—a vast, intricate room, the walls of which were adorned with art and lined with servants. The centerpiece was a long, amber-colored table, at which Altina was seated in the farthest chair. He was sure that she would have started eating by now, but she had yet to be served. There were only wine glasses and bread on the table.
“Finally here, Regis!” Altina called out.
“U-Um... Were you by any chance...waiting for me?”
“Naturally. This is a celebration for the both of us, after all.”
“No, no, no... Princess, it is not natural for someone who is both royalty and the généralissime to wait for someone like me,” Regis protested. He was speaking more formally than usual, since there were others he did not recognize sharing the table.
“Details, details. Just get over here.” She beckoned him to the chair to her right. Eric was standing behind her, having taken up the proposal to become the princess’s sharpshooter. He wasn’t holding a rifle, owing to the fact that they were currently inside, but instead carried a sword at his hip. He waved to Regis with a smile.
In the seat to Regis’s right was Fanrine, the master of the manor. “Is champagne all right with you, Regis?” she asked as soon as he sat down.
“Thank you.”
With a single glance, she signaled the sommelier to pour Regis a drink. The clear, golden liquid bubbled up toward the rim of the glass.
Eddie was seated to Altina’s left. Because he was inside and there were other guards present, he hadn’t brought his sword. Beside him was Abidal-Evra, now the leader of an order of knights. He looked ready to fight at a moment’s notice, perhaps because he recognized the imperial capital as enemy territory.
In the final seat, across from Altina at the opposite end of the long table, sat a gentleman who appeared to be in his early thirties. He was dressed as gracefully as one would expect of a noble, his reddish-brown hair was swept back, and his eyebrows and mustache were so well groomed that he looked as though he had stepped out of a portrait. Upon meeting Regis’s gaze, he courteously bowed his head. “Congratulations on your promotion to first-grade administrative officer, Sir Aurick.”
“...Thank you.”
“Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Gauchen. Count Gauchen, if you will. I work under Minister Berard as a director of military affairs.”
“He’s my superior,” Fanrine noted. The director was a top-level position within the Ministry that managed many different people. Considering the man’s age and peerage, he had risen through the ranks at considerable speed. Either he had connections in the right places or was simply that good at his job.
Did Fanrine invite him here? Regis wondered. If so, what for? Before he could consider the matter much further, however, the maids began serving their food.
“A toast!” Altina declared as she raised her glass.
“A toast to Généralissime Argentina’s appointment and Regis’s promotion,” Fanrine replied as the organizer of the celebration.
All those gathered cheered in unison. Regis likewise held up his glass before taking a mouthful of sparkling wine. It was sweet and fragrant, and the bubbles rolled pleasantly over his tongue. This was the sort of champagne he would expect to enjoy over a vibrant tune.
“Ah... This is quite nice.”
“It’s the pride of our house,” Fanrine boasted. “We only make thirty bottles a year.”
“You opened something so valuable?”
House Tiraso Laverde managed a number of wineries, and their wine was highly praised. Regis turned his attention back to Gauchen, whose glass was already empty. “Yes, what wonderful champagne it is,” the director said. “The flavor and fragrance are magnificent, but more so, this clarity—this transparency. If only our organization were the same.”
“Is it not transparent already?” Regis asked.
Gauchen shook his head. “I begged to be allowed a seat at this feast. I knew I simply had to speak with Her Highness and her officers before she held a military council.”
“I leave the complicated details to Regis,” Altina replied, waving the remark off dismissively.
“Uh... Princess...” Regis tried to interject.
“I’m learning a lot, but the more I learn, the more I realize just how incredible you are, Regis. I’m going to pay close attention to the discussion, but I’ll leave the actual talking to you.”
“I...see.”
Eddie took his fork and immediately went for one of the dishes that had just been brought in. “Seeing as you’re busy with all that, I’m laying claim to this meat!”
“I’m going to eat too!” Altina protested.
Do you really need to scramble like that? They’re serving more than any one person could possibly eat. Regis heaved a slight sigh before returning to his discussion partner, who seemed entirely unfazed by the spectacle. “Count Gauchen, has Emperor Latrielle informed you of his plans for the Ministry of Military Affairs?”
“He’s been talking about dismantling it for quite some time now, since before the late emperor passed away.”
“Since that long ago?!”
“Be it in intelligence gathering or weapon procurement, His Majesty—well, he was the marshal general then—feared we were falling behind the other nations.”
“And those worries were realized during the war against High Britannia.”
“We suffered great enough losses for him to reach a decision.”
“Still, dismantling it entirely? I understand that he’s taking its authority away, but I never thought he’d go that far...”
“Minister Berard is going to be transferred to the Ministry of Ceremonies, from what I’ve heard.”
“So the current Minister Bergerac is retiring?”
“He has gotten on in years.”
Being able to preside over the coronation ceremony of a new emperor before one’s retirement was considered a great honor. To be forced to retire at the peak of his career, perhaps this had to do with his grandson, Third Prince Bastian, voicing support for Fourth Princess Argentina’s faction. Regis purposely refrained from speculating on the matter, though.
“What about the others?”
“Most of us will probably lose our jobs.”
“And...you’re okay with that?”
Gauchen cracked a faint smile. “Not even Minister Berard is satisfied, since he’s going to have far less authority than he has now as the minister of military affairs. To make matters worse for him, His Majesty has already declared his intent to reduce the scale of ceremonies henceforth.”
“Then it’s effectively a demotion.”
“Correct. Now, as for the other high-ranking officials... You might be able to guess how they’re taking the news.”
“I assume they aren’t happy about losing their jobs.”
“They’re furious. Why should they be dismissed when they carried out their work exactly as their predecessors carried out theirs? That seems to be the question on everybody’s lips.”
“So they consider themselves without fault?”
“Correct.”
“Hmm... It’s certainly true that the Ministry hasn’t seen any notable advancements over the past few decades.”
“And if certain practices have already held for a hundred years, one would normally expect them to hold for a hundred more.”
“Not anymore.”
“Indeed. An influx of technology from the east has resulted in the development of new materials and inventions, putting both industry and the military on the path of reform. I believe we are at a turning point in history.”
“I can’t say I disagree.”
“Sir Aurick, how do you see the times to come?”
“I’m certain His Majesty will expand the war fronts. At the very least, we can expect Belgaria to launch a counteroffensive against High Britannia and Germania, since it hasn’t been a year since they invaded us. Against the south too, I guess.”
“So we’re going to invade them...”
“The imperial army will mass-produce the newest line of rifles and cannons, and war will take on a completely new form. Once guns capable of consecutive fire are made, a lowly foot soldier will easily overpower a mounted knight,” Regis noted. His explanation earned him a bewildered stare from Abidal-Evra, who was himself responsible for an order of mounted knights. “I’m talking about the future, though. And we’re going to be ready for it by then.”
Gauchen cocked his head. “In other words, the Empire is proceeding down the path of hegemony?”
“It has gone through such periods before.”
“And what lies beyond it...?”
Regis stared into the director’s eyes, trying to determine how much he could safely reveal and whether the man could really be trusted. He was here on an invitation from Fanrine, so he probably wasn’t in Latrielle’s faction, but...
“Had I thought he was going to succeed, I wouldn’t have fought him for the throne!” Altina said through a mouthful of meat, making no attempt to hide her true feelings on the subject.
Regis stifled a sigh, keeping his focus on Gauchen. “To put it simply, His Majesty and I do not share the same outlook of the future.” He couldn’t just outright say that he thought the Empire was going to lose.
Gauchen nodded. “You really are unlike any other soldier, Sir Aurick.”
“Yes, I’m well aware. I can’t swing a sword, nor can I ride a horse...”
“That’s not what I... In any case, I am in awe of your foresight.”
“Are you really?”
Instead of answering this, Gauchen changed the topic. “Although I may hold the peerage of a count, I am but a poor noble from the countryside. I always felt ashamed and out of place at the Ministry. My standing would have a good amount of trouble hoisted onto me, and because of this, I have seen, heard, and learned many things.”
Fanrine nodded. She refrained from intruding when men were speaking on matters of politics, as was common practice for the daughter of a noble house, but it was clear from her expression that she recognized Gauchen’s talents. The Ministry of Military Affairs was being dismantled, Berard was being transferred to the Ministry of Ceremonies, and most were losing their jobs...yet he was focusing the conversation on the future. There were a few possible reasons why Fanrine had agreed to his attendance, and to Regis, those reasons were becoming increasingly clear.
“The généralissime’s military council will need to fulfill many of the same roles as the dissolving Ministry of Military Affairs,” Regis said. “However, the Fourth Army faces a terrible shortage of clerical workers.”
“I am aware,” the director replied.
“Count Gauchen...might you be able to address some of these issues?”
“I shall do whatever I can.”
In order to help the short-staffed Fourth Army, Fanrine had welcomed Gauchen as a connection to the crumbling ministry. Of course, one had to keep in mind that it was being dismantled for all its internal shortcomings; many of its members wouldn’t make beneficial additions to the team. Some careful discernment was therefore in order—discernment that Regis would need to carry out. Was Gauchen really as competent as he seemed to be? Was he someone who would help Altina, even in the times to come?
To find out, Regis decided to pose his question to the director.
✧ ✧ ✧
“To Emperor Latrielle, Princess Argentina and the Fourth Army are like a double-edged sword. She is a necessary component of his military conquest, but her ideals oppose his own, and he cannot cast aside the possibility that she might raise a rebellion,” Regis said. Not that we intend to do anything at the moment...
“It’s not like my goal is to overthrow Latrielle or start a civil war,” Altina noted. “In fact, I want war to disappear from the world entirely.”
“Either way, he’s going to treat us as cautiously as one would a starving bloodhound. We were almost on the verge of civil war just the other day.”
“It’s his own fault for sending such an insulting report!”
“I admit, he was a tad overbearing.” The last document Latrielle had sent in his official capacity as marshal general was an apology for a false report, not that it mattered much now that he had taken the throne. “Emperor Latrielle would have cut down the Fourth Army’s forces if doing so were an option. He went as far as to plot my assassination, after all.”
“So it’s true...” Gauchen said, not seeming the least bit surprised.
“You knew?”
“There’s a rumor going around. How could the chief strategy advisor possibly have been killed after a successful siege...? Anyone versed in military affairs would suspect foul play.”
“Well, that sounds about right.”
“You are a national hero, Sir Aurick. I am glad you are alive and well.”
“I appreciate your kind words... Now then, I think I’ve drawn out my preface to this question long enough. Sir Gauchen.”
The director sat up straight as Eddie and Altina turned to face him. “Ask away.”
“Despite his desire to deplete the Fourth Army’s forces, Emperor Latrielle instead bestowed the princess with a historic level of authority. Do you have any idea why he might have done such a thing?” Regis asked.
“Hmm...” Gauchen placed a contemplative hand on his chin. “You’re asking me for a reason...?”
Regis glanced at Abidal-Evra and then Eddie. “Does anyone else have any ideas?” he asked.
Abidal-Evra was the first to raise his hand. “Perhaps, after concluding that making an enemy of a certain tactician is much too dangerous, he decided to give us better treatment to prevent an uprising.”
“So he’s placating us? As a statesman, trying to make us more loyal would be an appropriate move,” Regis mused, “but someone who would make such concessions for a single subordinate stands no chance at world conquest. His Majesty understands this, and to be frank, he is the very personification of obstinacy.”
Abidal-Evra nodded his understanding. “I see... He wouldn’t want anyone to think he’s buttering up the princess.”
Eddie was the next one to offer an explanation. “He did it ’cause he thinks it’s necessary, right? While the Fourth Army handles the north, east, and south, he can protect the capital, muster his forces, and attack either High Britannia or Langobarti. Someone’s gotta do the job, seeing as the Ministry’s not reliable enough.”
“So he failed to weaken us and now he’s reversing his policy. He needs a pawn, so it might as well be a strong one. Am I understanding that right?”
“Pretty much.”
“Not a bad idea, but that leaves the possibility of the Fourth Army turning right around and invading the capital instead. How would he deal with that?”
“Hmm... Guess he’d cut down whoever opposes him.”
“So he made the decision knowing that it might come to a civil war. Somewhat of a stretch, but I think we’re getting close.”
“For crying out loud, that isn’t going to happen!” Altina cried out, rising from her seat. “I’m not starting a civil war!”
“Of course,” Regis said, “but we’re trying to think like Emperor Latrielle.”
“He’s making a fool out of me. He always has! I’m sure he thinks I’ll never win, no matter how many soldiers he gives me.”
“That’s not quite how I see it...” Regis murmured. On the contrary, Latrielle’s response seemed to suggest that he very much recognized the princess’s strengths. The rank of généralissime granted Altina command over almost half of the Belgarian Army; if she faced a crushing defeat, it would plunge the entire nation into crisis. He wouldn’t have invested so much funding or placed so much trust in her unless his expectations were high.
Fanrine offered no answer to Regis’s question. Gauchen, however, finally raised a hand. “I consider it an undeniable fact that a généralissime is needed to support the northern, eastern, and southern fronts,” he said. “The Sixth and Eighth Armies would not follow a mere general.”
Altina had initially been appointed to Fort Sierck as a major general—one rank above its former commander, the Black Knight Jerome, who was a brigadier general. She also surpassed him in peerage and was operating under a decree from the Ministry itself...yet the officers and soldiers still refused to follow her. She would most likely encounter the same problem if she marched south, but this time, she didn’t have the leisure to prove herself with a duel.
The princess balled her hands into tight fists. She was wearing a smile, but the fury emanating from her was overpowering. “So, the Ministry decided to send me north knowing that Jerome wouldn’t listen to a word I said... Can I punch you?”
Gauchen recoiled at once. “I-I was not involved with that assignment,” he stammered.
“Now, now...” Regis attempted to pacify Altina. “Remember, all sorts of roles make up the Ministry. It’s also a different story now that you’re the généralissime; if a commander refuses to follow you, then you can just dismiss them.”
“I can do that?!” Altina cried out, her eyes shooting open.
Regis nodded. “Think about it like this: you can essentially do anything the Ministry was able to do before.”
“That said, dismissing a commander means losing access to the private noble army at the core of their unit,” Gauchen added.
“Yeah, that makes sense...” Altina said. “Ah, the Beilschmidt border regiment is Jerome’s noble army, right?”
“Even if you had been able to dismiss him back then, not a single soldier would have opted to stay with you,” Regis noted. The response would probably be less extreme for the Sixth and Eighth Armies, since they weren’t entirely noble-owned, but dismissing their commanders didn’t seem like a good move from a strategic standpoint.
“Hmm... Still, I would much rather dismiss my opponents than have to duel them.”
“Of course.”
“I believe His Majesty handed over the Généralissime’s Baton out of absolute necessity,” Gauchen said, getting the conversation back on track.
Eddie cheered. “So I was right!”
“But after giving the princess that much authority, how do you think he will deal with our potential rebellion?” Regis asked.
Gauchen was calm as he answered. “Emperor Latrielle has begun the mass production of the new firearms. A great number will already be in the hands of our armies by the time the southern front has settled down.” The First Army, which was already said to be the Empire’s strongest force, would similarly be equipped with the strongest weapons.
“I definitely wouldn’t want to go up against that...” Abidal-Evra groaned.
“Indeed,” Regis said. “It is precisely because war will change forever that Emperor Latrielle so generously handed over the baton.”
“Then what if our unit had rifles too?” Altina asked, looking at her tactician quizzically.
“Our unit will have rifles. Emperor Latrielle needs to supply guns and cannons to all the armies under him, otherwise we won’t be able to overwhelm the other nations.”
“Hmm?” She was naturally perplexed.
“Still, I understand what you mean, Princess. If you rebelled with the guns he gave you, he would certainly lose the advantage.”
“Right! Not that I’m actually going to rebel, of course! You’re not going to say he trusts me, are you?”
Regis couldn’t help but laugh at the very suggestion. “Definitely not,” he said.
Altina merely humphed in response, but Gauchen looked completely taken aback. This reaction didn’t come as much of a surprise, considering that Regis had just responded to the woman who was both the Empire’s fourth princess and the généralissime in a less than courteous manner.
Whoops... Regis moved a hand to cover his mouth. “Um, there’s something about rifles that makes them very different from any other weapon we’ve encountered so far.”
Altina barely needed to ponder the situation before she leaned forward in realization. “Ah, the supply line!” she exclaimed.
“That’s right! Amazing! You really have grown!”
“Oho ho! Praise me more, why don’t you!”
Eddie folded his arms and cocked his head to one side. “Hmm? Supply line?” he asked.
“Guns require ammunition,” Regis explained, “and Emperor Latrielle intends to hold a complete monopoly on its production.”
“Ah... So that’s where this is going. I totally understand.”
Regis was starting to feel a little anxious, but he pressed on nonetheless. “The emperor intends to prevent rebellion by making it so that guns and ammunition can only be obtained through the state. He’s thought beyond that as well,” he said. Indeed, Latrielle’s plan was to dismantle and nationalize the noble armies. “As for the Généralissime’s Baton, assuming he is going to take it back at some point, I can see why he was so willing to hand it over.”
“Is that how it is?!” Altina puffed out her cheeks.
Gauchen sighed. “Hardly anyone in the Ministry or among the nobility has been able to piece that together. As expected of you, Sir Aurick.”
“It looks like you’ve also figured it out though, Sir Gauchen. Have you told any of the other nobles?” Regis asked.
“Hah... Nobles are a proud sort. They believe without a doubt that the world exists for their own sake. Like innocent children, they assume the new emperor could never take away their special privileges. That which has lasted a hundred years is sure to last a hundred more—if anyone tried to tell them otherwise, they’d respond only with laughter.”
“Makes sense.”
“It’s all a farce.”
“Dismantling the Ministry is most likely a stepping-stone toward something far greater,” Regis said. He could guess that Latrielle wanted to keep the nobles from having free access to the new guns, which was precisely why he was removing Minister Berard from his position of authority. Gauchen seemed to suspect this as well; at least in terms of perception, he came across as reliable enough. “Now, one last question...”
“Whatever you need.”
“I want to hear your opinion on that rumor about His Majesty.” Regis was, of course, referring to the allegation that Latrielle had murdered the late emperor. It was a bold request, delivered with a completely unreadable expression.
Gauchen’s breath caught in his throat. Former political rival or not, the princess before him was still the younger sister of the nation’s standing ruler; one careless statement could result in him being tried for lèse-majesté or treason. After a moment spent in silence, however, he smiled. “Could you take the fact that I am here rather than at the palace banquet as my answer?”
Regis turned to Altina. “Princess, I strongly recommend inviting Sir Gauchen to your council as an administrative officer. Take him and those he recommends.”
“You think so?” the princess asked. “Well, if you insist. I’m going to be counting on you, Gauchen!” she said with a smile.
The director stood at once and returned a perfect salute. “I gratefully accept! Please, leave everything to me!”
“Thank God we’ve finally found someone willing to work under those horrendous conditions...” Altina muttered.
“Ah. That reminds me...” Regis said. “I forgot to mention this, Sir Gauchen, but you should know that I haven’t had a single day off since I was assigned here last year. It’s a pleasure to be working with you.”
“H-Huh?!” the director sputtered.
