Chapter 29

"Count Couranbell, that greedy fool."

Crown Prince Bard let out a sigh of exasperation after hearing the spy’s report.

He was currently leading the Imperial Army in a campaign advancing toward the Duchy of Budoudarl.

"If he’d just continued leading the Council Faction and criticizing the Court Faction, he would’ve secured the nobles’ support. To throw that all away himself... what an idiot."

In response to the national crisis, Count Couranbell had proposed convening the Council and rescuing Princess Roselia.

Quite a few nobles supported that stance.

After all, at first glance, it sounded reasonable—and if things went well, everyone stood to gain from it.

But when it came to the means—dispatching troops to forcibly capture Roselia, and then trying to coerce her into marriage—support for him quickly plummeted.

It was like saying, "Let’s aim for decarbonization to combat global warming. Let’s reduce animal cruelty for the sake of animal welfare." People would agree with that. But the moment you say, "Let’s smash artworks to protest environmental issues," you'd lose them completely.

"Even if he hadn’t secured any new interests, simply having led the Council Faction would’ve been an achievement. He could’ve used that as a stepping stone toward becoming Duke of Budoudarl. ...But now I get why he always loses at gambling. He gets greedy and keeps going until he’s lost everything."

The moment he raised his army, Couranbell's chances of success dropped to near zero.

He couldn’t possibly win against Roselia, not after she’d gained reinforcements from Grand Duke Plumera.

At least, that’s how any noble with sound judgment would see it.

If there was any path to victory left to him, it would be by pure luck—if he somehow succeeded in capturing Roselia, or if the Imperial House gave him direct support.

"It was us who lit the fire, though."

The one who said that with a half-smile was the head knight commander in service to the Imperial House.

In the Duchy of Budoudarl, he was the equivalent of Knight Sunbrag—Bard’s right-hand man and the de facto commander of the army.

"Don’t make it sound so incriminating. At the very least... I never said we’d support Count Couranbell."

It was true that Bard had spoken to Couranbell in a way that could be interpreted as an offer of support, but he’d never explicitly said so.

In a proper negotiation, Couranbell should have pressed for a clear commitment. But the count, lacking any real social grace, had taken it at face value and convinced himself otherwise.

"...Have the spies we planted in Couranbell’s territory pull out. And make sure they burn every document before they go."

"Are you certain? They might still prove useful."

"I don’t retrieve stones I’ve already thrown."

To the Imperial House, Couranbell had served his purpose—to stir up chaos in the Duchy of Budoudarl.

Now that he was no longer needed, they had no intention of supporting him any further—or reusing him in the future.

"Let’s go over our victory conditions."

Bard held up two fingers and pointed them at the knight commander.

"First, we secure the Earl of Authen’s domain. That’s our primary objective. Second, we capture Princess Roselia."

Roselia was the one who currently held the legal claim to the Authen territory the Imperial House wanted.

Which meant that Bard’s negotiations were with her, not Couranbell.

He was even prepared to offer: "If you relinquish your claim to the Authen territory, we’ll help you bring down Couranbell."

"Securing the first objective is one thing, but the second one might be difficult."

"I know. The second is conditional—only if it’s realistically possible. We can’t waste time sieging Castle Turonia and risk missing our chance at the Authen domain."

"...That’s not quite what I meant. Princess Roselia will likely evacuate from Castle Turonia. She’ll either flee to Budoubel Castle or seek asylum in Grand Duke Plumera’s domain."

"...Hmm."

"From a military standpoint, withdrawal is the wisest course. It’s the safest and most reliable way to win."

Bard rubbed his chin, deep in thought at the knight commander’s words.

Then tilted his head.

"Withdrawal would be a mistake. I get that militarily, a temporary retreat is sound strategy... but the non-military consequences are too big. At least, I wouldn’t choose it. It’s a losing move. She should hold her ground and defend Castle Turonia. There’s a high chance of success. Once the rebellion in Plumera’s domain is suppressed, we’ll have no choice but to withdraw ourselves."

The Imperial House couldn’t afford to go to war with Grand Duke Plumera.

Opening hostilities would risk splitting the empire in two—a full-blown civil war.

So the moment Plumera was free to act, the Imperial Army would have to retreat.

That was the Imperial House’s defeat condition.

"My lord... the prediction that the rebellion in Grand Duke Plumera’s territory will remain small-scale—that knowledge is something only we, who sparked it, are privy to. Try to see things from Princess Roselia’s perspective—and her court knights'."

"Mm... I see. No, even so, I’d still choose to hold the castle. Would that be a mistake?"

"If that is your decision, my lord, we will follow it."

"Then what exactly are you saying?"

"Consider it, my lord. From Princess Roselia’s point of view—and from that of the knights supporting her."

The knight commander said it with a wry smile.

His tone wasn’t that of a subordinate giving counsel to his superior. It was more like a teacher prompting a student.

"...Hmm. So it’s a homework assignment. Fine. I’ll give it some thought. The answer will come soon enough. Though personally, I’d rather she not run."

Bard recalled the face of the headstrong princess he’d once exchanged words with in a formal setting.

She didn’t strike him as the type to flee.

Even in a losing battle, he could picture her standing tall and fighting alone... and that was the kind of woman he wanted as his partner.

If she chose to flee now, it would ruin the image he had of her.

"It would certainly be easier to obtain the Authen territory if Princess Roselia fled... but if she does, then I can’t have her. How troublesome."

Bard chuckled.

---

At almost the exact moment the Imperial House began its advance—

A commotion had broken out within Budoubel Castle, located in the city of Budoubel in the Duchy of Budoudarl.

"It’s a crisis for our house, Blanche! You will do as I say!!"

"I've told you countless times, Mother. I absolutely refuse to marry my cousin!"

The heated exchange came from two women locked in a shouting match.

One was Antocia, Duchess of Budoudarl. The other was her daughter, Blanche.

Count Couranbell, in addition to proposing marriage between himself and Roselia, had also suggested a union between his son and Blanche.

He had little hope the former would be accepted—but he believed the latter had a real chance.

After all, his sister Antocia was in Budoubel Castle.

"Wasn’t it Uncle himself who caused this crisis in the first place?"

"The one at fault here is that woman—Princess Roselia and her lack of leadership! With your father’s fate still uncertain, the Barks family must stand united!"

Antocia viewed the unrest in the duchy and the Imperial invasion as the result of Roselia refusing to accept the Council Faction’s proposal.

It was a stance that heavily favored her brother, but Antocia herself wasn’t in direct collusion with him.

In fact, she’d been the most shocked when she heard he'd raised troops.

Precisely because she was confused, she had accepted his claims without question.

"If we simply handed Princess Roselia over to the Imperial House, wouldn’t that end the conflict?"

Antocia’s logic wasn’t exactly wrong.

Since the Imperial House had named the Authen Territory and Roselia as their objectives, surrendering Roselia could theoretically bring an end to the war.

Of course, doing so would sever their alliance with Grand Duke Plumera.

Whether the Imperial House’s ambitions would stop at the Authen Territory—only the Emperor or Bard could know for sure.

And there was also the possibility that Roselia, after aligning with Bard, might come back seeking revenge.

Not that Antocia could think that far ahead—nor was she capable of such foresight.

"If Roselia is out of the way, you will be the next Duchess of Budoudarl! What more could you possibly want!?"

"With all due respect, Mother."

Blanche’s voice rose, her irritation plain as she glared at her mother.

"She may be a stranger to you, but to me, she is a sister from the same tree. I will not tolerate you speaking of tearing us apart."

Blanche wasn’t without feelings of envy toward her sister.

But at the same time, she never once believed she could do what Roselia did—and the thought of turning against her was unthinkable.

"More importantly, I have no intention of marrying some minor branch of the family."

What offended Blanche most of all, with her strong sense of pride, was being forced to marry a subordinate’s son.

Being presented with such a blatantly unequal match—just the very suggestion—was enough to enrage her.

"Minor branch…? Y-You...!"

That one word from Blanche was all it took to send Antocia over the edge.

Overcome with rage, she let out a furious shout—and released her magical energy.

"I am your mother! The Duchess of Budoudarl! You will do as I say!!"

"And I am the daughter of the Barks main family! Mind your place, Mother!"

Blanche, too, channeled her rising fury into magical force.

And her magic—surged just slightly stronger than Antocia’s.

Reflexively, Antocia stepped back.

The cold shock of realization cooled her just enough to notice—

That she was now surrounded.

Armed knights had formed a perimeter around her.

"Wha—! What are you all—"

"Mother."

Blanche raised her arm—adorned with a golden bracelet—and aimed it toward her mother.

A substantial amount of magic had been poured into it.

"Please remain quietly in your chambers until this matter is resolved."

And just like that, the commotion was subdued.

---

“Th-This was... the right thing to do, wasn’t it?”

After Antocia was confined to her chambers, Blanche asked anxiously, her voice wavering.

She was speaking to a woman with dusky skin—her wet nurse, who also served as deputy head lady-in-waiting.

“Yes. It may look like Count Couranbell currently holds the advantage, but in the end, it will be Princess Roselia who prevails. If Lady Antocia sides with Count Couranbell, she won’t escape punishment once the war is over. For her own sake, keeping her restrained is the safest course.”

To Blanche, Antocia was a complicated figure, but still—her beloved mother.

At the same time, she adored Roselia as her sister.

Caught in that impossible position, Blanche had been gently guided by the deputy head maid.

Convinced by her foster mother that “confining Antocia is ultimately for her own good,” Blanche had resolved to confront her birth mother.

She’d tried at first to reason with words, but one thing led to another, and the quarrel escalated—until force had to be used.

“Wh-What happens now? Will Count Couranbell or the Imperial House attack Budoubel City?”

Blanche’s voice trembled as she asked the question.

Blanche had always believed that “if it really came to it, my sister will save us.” Of course, she had never mentally prepared herself to be drawn into a war.

“They will likely focus their efforts on occupying Duke Turonia’s territory for the time being. That should give us time to prepare our counteroffensive. Budoubel City is unlikely to be attacked directly.”

“B-But... what if we don’t make it in time!?”

“In that case, we’ll evacuate to Grand Duke Plumera’s domain. Budoubel Castle was never designed for siege warfare. Holding out here has never been the plan.”

“I-I see...”

Relief washed over Blanche, and she exhaled, clutching her chest.

She had neither the resolve nor the awareness to lead the House of Budoudarl—and for better or worse, abandoning the castle and fleeing didn’t trouble her at all.

(Until Princess Roselia returns, I must keep Lady Blanche’s mind stable...)

The deputy head maid let out a silent sigh as she watched Blanche, who made no attempt to hide her unease.

Blanche’s emotional state was extremely fragile.

There was no telling when she might change her mind.

“Th-That’s right! M-My sister—what about her!? What will happen to her?”

“Princess Roselia will also be retreating from Castle Turonia, as planned.”

The deputy head maid recalled the letter she’d received from her older brother—Sunbrag, the head of the palace knights.

In it, he’d written, We will avoid conflict as much as possible. If Count Couranbell raises his army, we will immediately evacuate Princess Roselia.

Sunbrag and the other palace knights had been preparing for Roselia’s evacuation ever since Count Couranbell first showed signs of unrest.

Roselia’s mental state had also become unstable.

Though she put on a brave front, the anxiety still leaked through.

Under those conditions, she could not be expected to fight.

The knights had made their decision early.

(How pitiful... To think I’d come to miss the old Duke’s reign.)

The previous Duke—Roselia’s grandfather, known as the “Demon Duke”—had been a tyrant.

He’d purged all who opposed him.

A man consumed by paranoia, who trusted no one and doubted everything.

He had been cruel, merciless, and unfeeling.

And yet—he had been a brilliant ruler.

It was undeniable that he had laid the foundation for the Duchy of Budoudarl’s current prosperity.

There had been fear, yes. But there was also a kind of comfort in it.

So long as he was in charge, the Duchy would be safe.

That sense of security was now gone.

With the current Duke of Budoudarl missing, the duchy’s internal state had fallen into shambles.

The deputy head maid felt as though the ground beneath her feet might give way at any moment, overwhelmed by a creeping sense of unease.

And she wasn’t alone.

Every one of the palace knights harbored anxiety—some more, some less.

It was that fear, despite knowing it to be a poor strategy, that pushed them to adopt a passive course of action.

Still, they couldn’t let their young lords and ladies catch on.

They had to be the ones to protect them.

Steeling herself, the deputy head maid suddenly noticed that the atmosphere in the castle had grown unusually restless.

After excusing herself from Blanche, she stepped out of the room.

She immediately ran into a knight, panting heavily.

He was one of the captains tasked with defending Budoubel Castle.

"Perfect timing... Deputy Head Maid. Come with me."

"I don’t mind, but what’s this about? I can’t leave Lady Blanche alone for long..."

"You’re needed—to explain the situation to her, too. Honestly... even I’m not sure what’s going on..."

The knight captain’s explanation was vague and disorganized, clearly shaken himself.

With rising apprehension, the deputy head maid headed for the great hall.

There, the palace’s key knights had already assembled—

"Wait... Dame Delawear!?"

At the center stood Delawear, Roselia’s personal maid.

But she was not wearing her usual maid uniform.

She was clad in imposing armor.

Her elegant hair and fair skin were marred by sweat and grime.

The deputy head maid was baffled.

Delawear had been meant to serve as Roselia’s body double and remain holed up in Castle Turonia—and yet here she was.

“It seems everyone has gathered,” Delawear murmured, glancing toward the deputy head maid.

Then, raising her voice, she declared:

“A counteroffensive operation against Count Couranbell and the invading forces has been set into motion.”

A counteroffensive?

Weren’t they retreating?

Ripples of confusion ran through the knights.

“I now convey Her Highness’s words. ‘All who stand against me will be crushed beneath my heel. You may choose—death or obedience. Those who swear loyalty beneath my foot shall become my foot—and deliver death in my name.’”

It was rare to hear such excitement in Dellerwia’s voice.

She took a deep breath, as if to calm her own pounding heart.

“Couranbell Castle is already in our hands. Her Highness is now assembling a force to bring Count Couranbell to justice.”

The hall erupted into shocked murmurs.

Dellerwia raised her voice again, cutting through the noise.

“Now, I will relay the full details of the operation and our current progress.”

Her voice still trembled slightly with adrenaline.

---

"We cannot choose to retreat."

At my words, the knights—Sir Sunbrag and the others—stiffened visibly.

No doubt they had already come to a consensus among themselves: retreat was the only course.

"I understand how you feel, Princess. But fleeing would be but a momentary disgrace. Should you be captured, however, your honor would suffer irreparable harm. That would be a shame you’d carry for life."

As a woman, the risk of being subjected to disgrace is far greater than for a man.

Even if nothing were to happen, suspicion alone—that something might have—would be enough.

That is why Sir Sunbrag and the other knights are reluctant to engage in battle while protecting me.

I understand their sentiment.

"Let me ask you one question."

Earlier, I let my emotions slip—anger, in particular. That was a mistake.

I must appear composed. I need them to see this is not some childish tantrum.

In a calm voice, I addressed Sir Sunbrag.

"There are a number of knights in the Duchy of Turonia who have pledged their loyalty to me. If I choose to retreat, what will become of them?"

Those who side with me are, from Count Couranbel’s perspective, enemies.

If I were in the Count's position, I’d want to eliminate as many enemies as I could while I had the chance.

"They… will simply have to endure."

"In other words, I would be abandoning them."

"If Your Highness were to counterattack alongside Grand Duke Plumera, I doubt they would see it that way."

"And how many of those knights will still hold loyalty toward me by then?"

Because it’s safer.

Because it's a guaranteed victory.

Because it's the soundest move from a military standpoint.

None of those reasons matter to the knights being left behind in the provinces.

"Besides, it remains to be seen how much support my grandfather will actually provide. To him, I may be a precious heir—but the Principality of Budoudarl is just an allied nation, nothing more."

Despite appearances, my grandfather is something of a realist.

Once, he gave up both the imperial succession he had long yearned for and the reclamation of our homeland, choosing instead to maintain the Grand Duchy of Plumera.

He will lend his strength—but if it becomes too troublesome, there’s no guarantee he won’t pull back.

"If we retreat now, we cannot know when—or if—we’ll be able to reclaim the Duchy of Turonia. More importantly, the longer the war drags on, the more the land will suffer. I don’t want to see this beloved land of mine ravaged and soaked in blood."

Even if a drawn-out war would benefit me in the long run, as a ruler, that is not the path I should choose.

It’s an option I must avoid.

"To withdraw without even fighting a single battle—politically, I see that as a poor choice. I wish to remain within my territory and fight."

For Sir Sunbrag and the other court knights, ensuring my safe escape is likely the optimal solution.

But it is not the optimal solution for me.

Our interests do not always align.

That is precisely why I needed to speak from my own position.

At my words, Sir Sunbrag and the others exchanged uneasy glances, clearly uncertain.

I met their eyes one by one, waiting for their answer.

"…We understand Your Highness’s position. However, a siege would be exceedingly dangerous. We have no way of knowing how many allies will come to our aid, or how much the enemy’s forces might swell. Please… reconsider."

The knights bowed their heads deeply before me.

It seemed the idea of a siege was, to them, a line they could not cross.

"Sir Sunbrag. I am not insisting that we must engage in a siege."

"…Mobilizing an army to retake Couranbel Castle would be risky. If the siege drags on, there’s a chance other houses may strike at our rear."

By "other houses," he meant not only the Imperial Family, but foreign powers such as the House of Duke Larknoll.

And those vassals of the Duchy of Budoudarl who currently remain neutral.

Who will turn against us—and when—is impossible to predict at this stage.

"Yes, of course. I understand that well."

Misunderstandings are dangerous, so I made that clear up front.

Then, looking into the wary eyes of each knight, I conveyed the one line I could not yield on.

"What I cannot accept is retreating without even a single engagement. And what I desire… is to stand my ground and continue fighting within our domain. I do not seek a choice between victory or death."

I don't intend to deny the notion that life comes before all else.

When the time comes, I want to keep the option of throwing everything away and running.

…It’s not the most dignified stance, I know.

"'Knowledge without power is helpless, and power without knowledge is useless.' …I possess neither. I am both powerless and useless—but even so, I am the sovereign of Budoudarl and your liege."

My retainers have more experience, more knowledge, more talent than I do.

I don’t believe I can surpass them.

Even so, the responsibility to make decisions falls to me.

"I command you. Lend me your wisdom and strength so that my will may be fulfilled."

I had said all that needed to be said.

Closing my mouth, I watched Sir Sunbrag and the others for their reaction.

None of them spoke. Their faces betrayed no emotion I could read.

"...There is one tactic we might try."

After a long silence, Sir Sunbrag met my gaze and finally spoke.