Shinwa Densetsu no Eiyuu no Isekaitan - Volume 5 - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Growth of the Valditte

The ninth day of the twelfth month of Imperial Year 1023

Chill winds swirled across the plain as winter set in. The undergrowth was dry and withered, and golden leaves adorned the trees until some sudden gust sent them dancing out over the thoroughfare. The Schein High Road, one of the nation’s arterial carriageways, was busy with villagers drawing oxen. A young child gleefully swung a stick like a sword. His mother smiled, his other hand clasped in her own. It was a portrait of a happy family that one might find anywhere, a typical tableau of country life—all but for the unsettling hum encroaching upon the scene. The low rumbling reverberated in the pit of the stomach, sending vibrations passing from the ground up through the legs.

A host of ironclad soldiers appeared on the road. At their head, a black dragon banner fluttered in the light of the midday sun. The villagers’ eyes widened. They hurried to the roadside and bowed their heads.

The force numbered three thousand, and it marched beneath the standard of the War God’s scion, the One-Eyed Dragon. Other banners also asserted their presence among the press, a lily on a crimson field and a sword and shield on a violet field among them. The escort’s affiliations were as varied as its colors, with soldiers donated by the western nobles riding alongside eight hundred men from the Crow Legion.

“Whoa...” the child breathed. Eyes shining with astonishment, he stepped out into the road.

“No!” His mother hurriedly pulled him back, but she was too slow. Horses screamed as the opulent carriage ground to a halt. Her face grew pale. Her child had impeded the passage of royalty, a crime punishable by death.

“Do you know whose carriage you have just obstructed?!” A soldier’s voice rang out in the winter air, colored with enough fury to make anyone want to cover their ears. The villagers blanched. It was a wonder nobody screamed.

“Please, sir, show mercy!” the mother begged, her hands pressed together in apology. “He didn’t mean any harm!”

The villagers joined in, pleading for the two to be spared, but the soldier would not be deterred. If anything were to befall a member of the royal family, it would be his head on the block, perhaps literally. If he was lucky, he would lose his position. If he was unlucky and found responsible, he could lose his life.

He raised a whip high, his face flushed with anger. “There will be no mercy! Let this be a lesson—”

“Enough,” came a voice. “Leave him be.”

The soldiers and villagers turned as one. Out from the open carriage window peered a boy with eyes as black as his hair—a hue all but unheard of in Aletia. The peasants stared agog in the brief seconds before the soldiers closed ranks to shield the boy from view.

“You must understand, Your Highness! The boy obstructed your carriage—”

“And your devotion to your duty is appreciated, but not necessary this time.” Hiro’s eyes flashed; that was not a request. The soldier fell silent. “Royal carriages rarely pass this way. It’s only natural for a child to get excited. Nobody could have foreseen his actions. Let him be.”

“Understood, Your Highness.”

“And give him this, if you would.” Hiro handed the soldier a small pouch.

The man’s eyes widened as he glanced at the contents. “Confectionary, Your Highness?”

Hiro grinned. “To buy the loyalty of the next generation.”

“As you wish, Your Highness,” the soldier sighed.

As the villagers looked on, wondering what kind of royal would behave so, he turned hesitantly back to the child and handed over the pouch. The boy’s eyes shone with delight as he uttered a hasty thanks.

The soldier didn’t quite seem to know what to make of the situation. “It’s Lord Hiro you should be thanking, not me,” he said, looking awkwardly between the two.

With a smile, Hiro gestured down the road. “Shall we be off?”

“I, er...” The soldier’s confusion was written on his face, but he could not refuse an order from a prince of the empire. He snapped back to attention and bowed. “At once, Your Highness!” he barked, filling the wintry air with warm fervor.

“Bless you, milord! Bless you!” the villagers cried.

Hiro withdrew back inside the carriage. As it began moving once more, he looked around the interior at the other occupants. “Now,” he said, “where was I?”

A silver-haired girl raised a hand. “The emperor’s letter.”

Brigadier General Treya Verdan Aura von Bunadala was, in a word, cold—her expressionless features betrayed not a sliver of emotion. Although her allegiance lay with the western noble families, exceptional circumstances now saw her accompanying Hiro to the capital.

Ideally we would have waited for Liz to make a full recovery, but this left us no choice.

Hiro looked down at the envelope in his hand. A summons from the emperor himself. Aura’s fate had been decided, and Liz needed to be reprimanded for her recent failure.

If she’s lucky, she’ll get house arrest; if she’s unlucky, demotion. And if she’s very unlucky, she could be stripped of her place in the order of succession.

Leading twenty thousand men to defeat would leave a stain on anybody’s record. While the fiasco had in a sense been inevitable, Liz could not expect to walk away unscathed—affording her special treatment on account of her royal status would draw protests from the nobles. Much the same was true for Aura. Still, their punishment was unlikely to be too harsh. Hiro’s invasion of the Grand Duchy of Draal had seen to that.

At the end of the day, it all comes down to the emperor’s decision.

With a deep sigh, Hiro looked at Liz, who was seated next to Aura. Her expression was grave, a stark change from her usual grin. Still, at least she was recovering from her injuries. With the exception of her nails, which were yet to grow back, her Spiritblade’s blessing had sealed her wounds with almost frightening speed.

“And what did the letter say?”

Hiro turned to the source of the voice, a hooded woman sitting on Aura’s other side: Culann Scáthach du Faerzen, former princess of Faerzen, leader of the Faerzen Resistance, and the commander who had driven Aura to the brink of defeat. Her full expression was hidden beneath the shadows of her cowl, but the mention of the emperor had made her lips twist in anger.

Hiro avoided commenting on her reaction. “It said... Well, it would probably be quicker to read it yourselves.”

The letter was technically addressed to him alone, but its contents were nothing worth keeping secret. He opened it out and held it up. The trio huddled together as they read. Aura was the first to react; she shrugged and sat back in her seat, having evidently expected the contents. Next was Liz, who grimaced as she went down the page but quickly steeled her resolve, clenched her fist, and nodded to herself. Scáthach simply breathed deep as though trying to calm some hidden fury. Had the emperor been there in the carriage, she likely would have leaped at him, spear in hand.

“Now that we’re all on the same page, I’d like to talk about what happens next.” Hiro smiled sheepishly at the three very different responses. “It’ll depend on how things play out, but I expect our opponents at court will make as big an issue of Liz and Aura’s mistakes as they can.”

They were certain to call for harsh punishment. This was a chance to boot Liz clean out of the competition for the throne—only a fool would overlook it. Their anger had to be redirected elsewhere.

“Conveniently, we have House Krone and the atrocities they committed in Faerzen. They’ll make the perfect scapegoat.”

Exposing their crimes would provide Liz’s opponents with fresher meat to sink their teeth into, and the resulting convictions would dramatically weaken House Krone—or that was the plan, at least. Still, Hiro wanted to hear the opinions of the other three before proceeding.

“I’m all for that,” Liz said, “but it’s not enough.” She stared back at Hiro with determination in her eyes. Its flame was not quite steady, but he could tell that she was earnestly wracking her brains to come up with an ideal solution. “They should foot the bill for the Faerzen reconstruction too.”

Hiro nodded. “Agreed. They deserve to pay for their crimes.”

It was important to be gracious to the people of other nations as well as one’s own. If Liz was to stand at the zenith of the empire, she could not afford to survey the world with a blinkered view.

“That’s already taken care of, though,” he added. “Rosa will see to it.”

An amusing spectacle surely awaited them once they arrived at the capital.

Liz’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”

“She seemed like the best choice for the job.” Hiro smiled. “I’m sure she won’t disappoint.”

Liz’s expression turned pensive again. “Then I suppose all that’s left...is how I’m going to demonstrate to Father that I’ve taken responsibility.”

That was her obligation as a princess, her duty as a citizen, her burden as one who aspired to rule.

I see, Hiro thought. You really are well on your way.

While he couldn’t guess what had provided the impetus, it was clear that Liz had begun to walk her own path.

Kingship or conquest. I wonder which she’ll choose...

Either way, he couldn’t deny a certain sadness at seeing her taking steps outside his reach. It was a good sign, all told, but it also augured the advancement of his own plans.

In the near term, I’ll focus on seating her on the throne.

That alone, however, wouldn’t be enough. He would have to work in parallel to further his personal goals—but that was something he couldn’t allow Liz, Rosa, or anybody else in the empire to catch wind of. Even Garda, his closest confidant, did not know the full scope of his intentions.

I’ve sought out a certain party’s cooperation, but I’m not stupid enough to trust her.

Their paths were beginning to converge. Already, their interests aligned. As such, it had been practical to make overtures, but while his collaborator was certainly capable, it would be foolish to expect her loyalty.

He looked outside the window. In the distance lay the white expanse of the north.

Still, I can use her. I’ll never seize the initiative without taking a few risks, so I might as well have one more pawn on the board. Her heart might be black, but for now, she’ll be playing for white.

As Hiro brewed his schemes, Aura’s eyes were boring a hole into Scáthach. The seconds ticked on, but she said nothing, only continued to stare. Scáthach squirmed awkwardly in her seat, clearly uncomfortable.

Liz, oblivious to the tension, raised her head with renewed determination in her crimson eyes. “Hiro, once we reach the capital...there’s something I want to talk about.”

From the steel in her voice, Hiro could tell that she had chosen her course. The true gravity of that decision remained to be seen, but in any case...

“All right. But there’s still time. Think it over.”

“I will. But I’ve decided something. No more doubts.” Her resolve would not falter. That much was clear.

“Well, then,” he murmured. “I look forward to hearing what you have to say.”

He cast another glance at the three girls, burning the sight of them into his mind. Liz was spreading her wings and setting out on her own path. Aura, too, seemed to have discovered a new course in Faerzen. Even Scáthach was moving toward the dream of rebuilding her homeland. Anger and hatred might currently rule her thoughts, but once her vengeance was done, she would be able to think about the future.

I think they’re going to be all right.

Their convictions were more than strong enough to forge ahead without him. Finding their resolve gave people wings, causing them to grow with astonishing speed. So it had been for him and Artheus—they had reveled in the discovery like fish newly taken to water, and the ripples of their wake had coalesced into the Grantzian Empire. Once the trio had reached their full potential, Hiro would have no more part to play.

And that’ll be the real test.

Significant, if foreseeable, strife awaited the empire. If worst came to worst, war could engulf the entire continent.

The Grantzian Empire has ruled Soleil for a thousand years, but the lion has grown weak in its old age.

The beast’s claws remained sharp, but its eyes had grown dim, its guts rotten, and its bones brittle. Sic transit gloria mundi—all glories must fade. The strong preyed on the weak; such was the way of the world, and no amount of storied pomp could resist the laws of nature. At the turning of the age, when the empire teetered on the brink of destruction—that would be when he was most needed.

Could that be what Artheus meant?

Words flashed through Hiro’s mind—words spoken by his old friend in a dream shortly after his return to Aletia. To think the Time of Turning would fall so distant. He had asked what that meant, but Artheus had never answered, only instructing him to live life as he pleased. In the end, his friend’s one-sided speech had been cut short prematurely, and Hiro had not heard his final words.

What exactly is it you want from me?

He patted his chest, trying to put himself at ease, but the slip of card that Artheus had once given him was long gone. As far as he could tell, it had disappeared during the final battle with the Faerzen Resistance, most likely after he had lost control on seeing Liz frozen in ice. Strangely, he seemed physically unaffected—or no, that wasn’t quite true. A change had overcome him, one that was slowly but surely worming its way into his flesh.

Perhaps this is some kind of punishment, he thought wryly before shaking his head to dispel his unease. That wasn’t worth thinking about. He had more immediate problems to deal with before he could start worrying about himself.

“First,” he said, “we’ll use the imperial audience to strip power away from House Krone.”

That would give Liz a push, just in case. She had promised no more doubts, but there was always a danger that someone as kindhearted as her would hesitate to put themselves before others. That possibility needed to be mitigated.

“While the rest of the court is reeling, we can shore up the eastern nobles’ power.”

Hiro had in fact instructed Rosa to pivot to backing Liz instead of him in the near future, but he wasn’t going to tell Liz that—not because Aura was there, with her western connections, and not because of the minor detail of Scáthach’s presence, but to avoid making Liz self-conscious. Putting unnecessary pressure on her wouldn’t help anyone.

“The central nobles will fall even deeper into paranoia and start scheming to switch allegiances to the east. All we have to do then is ensure First Prince Stovell’s removal from the order of succession and House Krone will be finished.”

In view of Aura’s presence, he avoided mentioning the western nobles directly, but they would be in no position to challenge the east—the fighting in Faerzen had left them significantly weakened. With apologies to the man, Third Prince Brutahl’s position in the order of succession was not long for this world. That left the northern nobles, who backed Second Prince Selene, and the southern, who backed nobody. The latter, who were still watching and waiting, were the most worrisome presence on the board; most likely, they were aiming to take advantage of the rest of the empire’s squabbles to better their own interests, and if they began colluding against Hiro, that could mean real trouble. There was little hope for help from Rosa’s eastern nobles on that score—they could handle their central and western counterparts, but pitting them against the north and south as well would be far too much to ask.

“I’m torn on whether or not we should turn to Kiork,” he mused aloud.

Kiork’s influence in the south was growing, but against House Muzuk—a great house and the leader of the southern nobles—he would be very much outmatched.

“I know how good a statesman he is,” Liz opined, “so it’s not like I don’t trust his abilities, but what could he do by himself?”

She was right. Kiork alone didn’t have the resources to help, and the slightest misstep could cost him the Gurinda Mark. They needed more allies, but all the recent conflict had left them with few opportunities to forge political connections—and now they were out of time to seek out people they could trust.

If we show any hesitation now, we’ll end up with a knife in the back.

He had seen it often enough in other nations. The moment Hiro’s power began to ebb, his allies would turn on him.

I might have hit the limit of what I can accomplish on my own.

Rosa and Kiork were assisting him as best they could, but he couldn’t take on every other noble in the realm when they were his only connections outside of the military. A thousand years ago, he would have had some sway in politics, but in the modern era he did not have the authority he had once enjoyed as Schwartz.

Aura raised a hand. “We do have one other ally.”

“We do?”

Aura nodded. “To the east. A small nation with great power.”

Instantly, Hiro understood. On the eastern coast of Soleil was the nation of Baum, home to the Spirit King’s sanctum. Its matriarch, the archpriestess, commanded considerable power across the continent. Even the Grantzian Empire could not disregard her will. With her assistance, they could easily steal a march on any opposing nobles, and she and her nation were likely to help Hiro if he asked.

I’d like to avoid that if possible. Baum couldn’t survive outright war.

The nation’s political influence was significant, but long centuries under the auspices of the empire had left it with little military might to speak of. Turning to the archpriestess for aid with prospective enemies on all sides would risk seeing it wiped from the map.

“That’s a possibility,” Hiro replied, “but we’d have to be extremely careful about how we played it.”

There was no harm in making backup plans, he supposed. At the very least, it would be worth writing a letter asking the archpriestess to lend Liz her support.

Aura cast a glance out of the window before looking back at Hiro. “We’re getting close to the capital.”

“Then we’re early,” Liz chipped in. “The audience is tomorrow, isn’t it?”

Hiro nodded. “We can spend the night in Rosa’s mansion. I sent a messenger a while back. She should be expecting us.”

Rosa was already in the city. As soon as she had gotten word of Liz’s capture, she had stationed herself there with her troops so as to be ready to act at a moment’s notice.

A thought struck him. “What will you do, Aura?”

“I’ll stay with you and Countess von Kelheit.”

“Are you sure that won’t get you in trouble?”

The western nobles were likely to object to that, possibly to the point of endangering her station. Moreover, she risked causing headaches for the other members of House Bunadala.

Aura shook her head. “My family means to side with Liz.”

“That’s...news to me. Is it all right if I ask why?”

Aura bobbed her head in a dainty little nod. “The west has been torn to shreds.”

The endless succession of conflicts in Faerzen had put tremendous strain on the western nobles’ treasuries, and House Krone’s schemes had them jumping at shadows. Both factors had them fearing being held responsible for Aura’s mistakes.

“And there’s another reason I’m joining you.” Aura lowered her gaze sadly before looking back up apologetically. “The western nobles are going to cut ties with me.”

To ensure her protection in transit, she explained, her father—the head of House Bunadala—had instructed her to enter Hiro’s service. No doubt the man had judged that her enemies couldn’t do her harm as long as she was under Hiro’s wing.

She sat up straight and bowed her head. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Her perilous situation was the product of her own mistakes, for which she had been prepared to face due punishment. Involving Hiro and the others seemed to leave a sour taste in her mouth.

“Don’t worry about it,” Hiro said.

“Right!” Liz piped up. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for!”

“Oomph!”

Liz wrapped Aura in an embrace, sending the breath bursting from her lungs, and began stroking her head. Aura seemed less than thrilled by the situation, but she was powerless to resist.

Hiro smiled as he watched their antics, but soon enough a shadow fell over his face. “Is the west really under that much pressure?” he whispered to himself. The only reason to relinquish a strategic mind like Aura’s was if they couldn’t guarantee they could defend her. Their hands might be full with their own affairs, but even so, it was hard to see their decision as anything other than a mistake.

“They’ll hold together for a few more days.” Aura lowered her eyes. “But Third Prince Brutahl is going to start losing some powerful nobles very soon.”

“And then either the western faction will disintegrate or they’ll change heads,” Hiro supplied.

The current leader of the western nobles was House Münster, Third Prince Brutahl’s family by birth.

“The wealth that’s held them together has run out,” Aura said.

Loyalty rarely ran deeper than the bottom of a purse. That was true in any world. Aura, however, likely still felt a certain amount of obligation toward Brutahl. Would she be able to fight against him if the time came? That was a real concern. She was stubborn in her loyalties; at the very least, she would certainly hesitate. That today’s enemy could be tomorrow’s friend and vice versa might be the nature of war, but that didn’t make it any less bitter a pill to swallow.

Hiro sighed. “The road ahead seems less clear than ever.”

House Krone, the heads of the central nobles, had lost the confidence of the emperor. House Münster, the heads of the western nobles, were also on the verge of being thrown to the wolves. Was that truly just coincidence, or was some hidden hand at work? If so, how far did its reach extend? He could think of no possible culprits but the southern and northern nobles. Rosa’s eastern nobles could be responsible, but it was hard to imagine that they had been working in secret without telling him.

All the little mismatched ends I’ve overlooked are starting to come undone.

Now that he thought about it, even his own actions might end up playing into this hidden foe’s hands. He would have to be extremely cautious in how he proceeded. He could not even necessarily rely on outside help—turmoil was brewing all across Soleil, and only the empire seemed to be concerned with keeping it in check.

Every nation’s working in its own interests. If anything threatens that, they’ll cut it away like a dead branch.

The countries with whom Hiro had forged relationships could turn on him at any time. What was more, there were several nations on Soleil large enough to rival the empire, and they had presumably taken advantage of the prolonged peace to shore up their armies. Information on those far to the west was regrettably sparse, but he had no doubt that they were eyeing the empire eagerly. The current rate of conflict was not sustainable. The nation his comrades had founded would be soiled and destroyed by fools. That, he would not allow. He had to carry their legacy forward into the coming age.

But that’s easier said than done.

The stage was set for the Grantzian Empire’s downfall. If that was indeed by some party’s design, then he needed to act quickly. Unfortunately, as he had reasoned earlier, he did not have the resources to stop it alone. As dangerous as it was to be on the back foot, he was no longer in a position to seize the initiative.

But then, if everything was going my way, this wouldn’t be any fun.

It was all right, he reassured himself. He had a hand to play. If his opponent was a step ahead, then he would simply have to read a step beyond that.

I’ll see this through, no matter what it takes. Nothing will stand in my way.

Let his enemies deal him a thousand paper cuts. When he struck, it would be to the bone.

As Hiro’s smile grew quietly wider, Liz was busy celebrating Aura’s addition to their group.

“There’s so much you could teach me!” she said, beaming. “I’m just hopeless when it comes to strategy. If you have any textbooks to recommend, I’d love to hear them!”

“Of course.” Aura’s face remained as expressionless as ever, but she radiated faint delight. Seemingly from nowhere, she produced her copy of the Black Chronicle and thrust it toward Liz. “You can’t get better than this.”

Hiro’s smile stiffened. Even Liz’s face turned hesitant. Only Scáthach leaned in with interest.

“Is that the Black Chronicle? Consider me impressed. I had heard it was so rare as to be unobtainable.”

Aura nodded with gusto, her eyes sparkling. “That’s right. You probably know it as an account of Mars’s life until he took the throne, but it’s so much more. It lists all the tactics he used to mislead his enemies, all his strategies that feigned defeat to secure victory, and all sorts of apocrypha that you won’t find in any other text. It’s a veritable compendium of War God knowledge. But that’s not all. It details not only how he became the second emperor, but the events of the Missing Years. It’s worthwhile just for that. Read it and you’ll be satisfied enough to last a lifetime. Don’t, and you’ll regret you were ever born.”

“I... I see. I shall have to read it...later.” Scáthach shied away, intimidated by Aura’s sudden diatribe.

“You should. No, you must. You’ll fall in love with the second emperor, I guarantee it. Read it as soon as you can. It’ll make you thankful to be alive, it’s that addicting. You won’t even have to eat anymore. One reading session is equal to two weeks’ worth of food.” Aura puffed out her chest, as though to say she was living proof.

Scáthach looked incredulous for just a second, but she managed to hide it behind an expression of polite astonishment. “I see. That sounds most impressive.”

“Read it now. Right this second. And then tell me what you think.”

“Right now?! I-I fear I cannot—”

“Why not?”

“Why? Well, I...erm...”

Scáthach panicked as Aura’s eyes grew colder. Hiro smiled weakly. Liz gazed steadily out of the window, out of the conversation and intent on staying that way.

The Missing Years, she said... That was the period of time after I went back to Earth.

Hiro had read that section himself. It included details that only somebody with firsthand knowledge could have known. He had detected no falsehood from it; the Black Chronicle, he felt quite certain, truly had been written by a witness to the events described. That, then, raised a question: why had it appeared now, in the modern day, long after its author had surely died?

Scáthach looked at the spine and cocked her head. “By whose hand is it written? I see only the title.”

“I don’t know. Nobody does.” Aura shook her head sadly before foisting the book on Scáthach again. “But you should still read it.”

A groan escaped Scáthach’s lips as she looked to Hiro for help. Hiro shrank from her gaze and turned to stare out of the window, feeling guilty but unwilling to engage.

There’s only one person I can think of who could have written it. The same person who wanted so badly to make me emperor.

Outside, the sun was setting, the curtain of night settling over the horizon’s twilight blush. At the edge of the scene, throwing a gargantuan shadow across the plain, was a great city—the imperial capital of Cladius, grown only larger over the past thousand years.

Seeing an escape from Aura’s clutches, Scáthach turned to look. An impressed gasp escaped her lips. “So that is the imperial capital. I had heard tales...”

Liz looked surprised. “Have you never been?”

“The empire and Faerzen have been at odds since before I was born. It would not have been wise to visit.”

“Really!” Liz beamed. “Then I’ll have to show you around.”

“By all means,” Scáthach murmured, smiling back.

Aura, sandwiched between them, had question marks written all over her face. As Hiro watched, she began to sway in discomfort.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She shot a guarded glance around the carriage. “That’s Scáthach, isn’t it?” she hissed so quietly it was barely audible above the rumbling of the wheels.

Hiro gave her a blank look. The other two also turned to stare at Aura in confusion. She frowned, as though confused why her question seemed so strange.

“Um...haven’t you been introduced?”

“No one told me anything.”

“Liz, you didn’t fill her in?”

“I thought you had.”

Hiro had assumed that Liz had handled the explanations. Apparently, she had thought the same of him.

“That does explain why you were glaring at me so.” Scáthach crossed her arms, nodding as though some missing piece had slotted into place.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Hiro asked. They had been traveling together for days.

Aura laid a finger against her cheek. “I thought it would be rude.”

Hiro lifted a hand toward Scáthach. “As I’m sure you know, she’s the former leader of the Faerzen Resistance. She’s working with us now, for reasons I won’t go into. I’d appreciate it if you could keep this discreet.”

The only other people who knew about their arrangement were Garda, Huginn, and Muninn.

Aura seemed to process that for a moment. “I see.”

“I’m not going to force you to be friends.”

As former foes, it was only natural for them to have complicated feelings about the situation. They would simply have to set those aside, Hiro thought—but as it turned out, there was no need to worry.

“No grudges,” Aura said, offering Scáthach her hand.

The woman’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“I lost a lot of good men in the fighting. But I’m sure you did too.” Something like guilt flickered in Aura’s eyes. “And I know what Buze’s rule did to the capital. I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him.”

No doubt she felt particularly responsible for that. Her victories in the first Faerzen campaign had directly paved the way for the nation’s destruction.

“You are not to blame.” Scáthach laid a hand on her shoulder, smiling kindly. “I would be glad to have you by my side. Your strategies were magnificent. I would be glad to learn from you.”

Aura fell silent for a long moment. “Of course,” she said at last.

“Ah, now I remember. There is one thing I wanted to ask you.”

“What?”

“How did you keep such a watchful eye on the walls night after night?”

Hiro had heard about that. While under siege by the Faerzen Resistance, Aura’s troops had maintained a constant presence on the ramparts day and night, allowing for no enemy ingress.

“It wasn’t anything special.” Aura explained that she had propped up deceased soldiers’ armor on wooden poles—a ruse, in other words, but one that had nonetheless prevented Scáthach from attacking by night.

“I see.” Scáthach brought a hand to her mouth in astonishment. “I confess, I was thoroughly deceived.”

It was not surprising that she had failed to see through the trick. The Faerzen Resistance had been racing against time. Arrogance led to oversight, anger led to tunnel vision, and panic led to mistakes.

When people are put under pressure, they can get cautious or reckless. And Scáthach would have needed to conserve her resources for the battles to follow.

In other words, she had been too cautious, and paid for it. More surprising was that Aura had revealed the deception so readily. Now she would be unable to use it again if Scáthach were to turn against them.

Sensing his puzzlement, she turned to look at him, eyes shining. “Don’t worry. I’ll just come up with a better trick.”

He shrugged. “I’m sure you will.”

At that moment, a furious shout rattled the windowpane. “Down with House Krone! The villains have forgotten imperial honor!”

“Protect the Valditte! Protect the Warmaiden!” came another cry.

Those two were far from the last. A multitude of voices intermingled in the wintry air. The rumble of footsteps shook the carriage, and the atmosphere hung heavy with rage.

“Your Highness!” the coachman cried.

Hiro nodded. “I know.”

He opened the window and looked outside. While they had been talking, the carriage had arrived at the capital, and on the other side of its yawning gates, an angry crowd thronged the city’s central boulevard.

As Hiro narrowed his eyes, a guard came cantering up from the walls on horseback.

“I am pleased to find you safely arrived, Your Highness. However, continuing any farther would endanger your royal person. If you might make your way around to the western gate?”

“All right. But would you mind telling me what they’re shouting about?”

“Word of House Krone’s atrocities in Faerzen has spread among the citizenry, Your Highness. Sadly, rumors breed rumors. The baseless notion has spread that the Valditte and the Warmaiden were framed, and protests have sprung up.”

“I see. All right. We’ll do as you suggest.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. I apologize for the trouble.” The guard turned his horse about and rode back toward the uproar.

Once the man was out of sight, Hiro closed the window and turned to the rest of the carriage. “It looks like Rosa has played her part well.”

“Maybe too well.” Liz looked pale. “The city’s one bad day away from a riot.”

Hiro, on the other hand, was unconcerned. “It might look that way now, but I’ve got a hunch that these protests will die down before violence breaks out.”

Admittedly, that would depend on Liz’s and Aura’s fates, but the threat of civil unrest was almost certain to have lessened their punishments. Rosa had done good work. As the crown jewel of the empire, the capital saw a constant flow of travel from foreign nations—a riot would make them the laughing stock of the continent. The emperor would have no choice but to lighten their sentences.

“With the people on our side, all you have to do is make a good account of yourselves. That’s the hard part now.”

Liz nodded meekly. “I’ll do my best.”

Hiro sensed no hesitation from her. The last time they had come to the capital, she had seemed pained by the prospect of entering the palace, but now she radiated calmness and composure. There was nothing so terrifying as someone who had found their resolve. Soon the nobles of the court would discover that they had taken a lion cub for a kitten, and he looked forward to seeing the astonishment on their faces when they realized their mistake.

“We have arrived at House Kelheit’s mansion, Your Highness,” the coachman’s voice announced as the carriage eased to a stop.

Hiro cast one last look at the other three and placed a hand on the door. “First, we should greet Rosa. I’m sure she can’t wait to see us.”

He opened the door to see an ample bosom flying toward him. He had time for one choked cry and then everything went dark. Apparently Rosa’s greetings had not gotten any less enthusiastic with time.

A low, melodic voice played at his eardrums. “Thank the Divines you’re safe! You can’t imagine how glad I am to see you!”

Hiro smiled weakly. “And you. It’s good to see you’re well.” He prised himself away from the warmth of her embrace—noting a pleasantly sweet scent as he retracted—and looked her over from a proper distance.

She chuckled. “You’ve been in good health, I hope. Have you been eating well?”

Myste Caliara Rosa von Kelheit was the current acting head of House Kelheit, one of the empire’s five great houses. She was also the former third princess, and her golden hair and blue eyes testified that her von Grantz blood ran thick. Her alluring body and voluptuous curves left women too stunned to envy her and men too captivated to look away.

“What took you so long? I’ve been counting the minutes.”

“Really? We’re here ahead of schedule.”

“Even so...” Rosa seemed ready to argue, but the sight of the girl disembarking the carriage behind Hiro stopped her protests dead in her throat. Her eyes began to water. “Oh! Liz!”

“Wha— Oomph!”

Too slow to dodge her sister’s ambush, Liz vanished into the darkness of Rosa’s embrace.

“Ever since word came that you’d been captured, I haven’t been able to sleep a wink!” Tears welled in the corners of Rosa’s eyes. Her relief was written on her face.

“I’m sorry I made you worry,” Liz said.

“As long as you’re safe, that’s all that matters. We must tell Kiork. He was just as concerned as I was!”

As the sisters celebrated their reunion, Cerberus slinked between their legs.

“There you are, Cerberus.” Rosa gently stroked the white wolf’s bandages. “I hear you’ve been quite the brave hound.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Liz exclaimed. “Aura here says she wants to work with us now!”

“Oh? Lady von Bunadala herself?”

“If you’ll have me.”

“You’d be more than welcome.” Rosa held out a hand to Aura. “I’m sure Liz could wish for no better tutor.”

“I’ll be glad to— Wah!” Seized by the wrist, Aura too was pulled into Rosa’s ample bosom. “Mmmph!”

Short—petite, Hiro corrected himself—for her age, the sight of Aura struggling to get free was comical to say the least. Unfortunately, she was nowhere near strong enough to escape from Rosa’s arms.

“My, but you are an adorable little thing. Be careful, or I might just tease you a little!”

Hiro was about to remark that she seemed to have already started, but seeing Liz turn back to the carriage and the hooded girl standing there, he closed his mouth and let things play out.

“And this is, um...a mysterious stranger.”

It was hard to discuss Scáthach’s identity with the guards present. Liz’s voice trailed off until it was lost in the wind.

“You needn’t hide it. I know who she is. My darling told me all about her in his letters.”

Rosa released Aura and approached Scáthach. The others fell silent as her demeanor turned frosty—angry, even. Only a few people present knew about the part Scáthach had played in Liz’s injuries, but those who did could easily guess what Rosa might do next.

“Rosa, wait—”

Liz tried to interpose herself between them, but Rosa froze her in place with a glare. Scáthach stood stock-still, waiting to see what the woman would do.

“Consider yourself welcome.”

To the surprise of all, Rosa threw her arms around her.

“Wha...?” Even with her face hidden beneath the hood, Scáthach’s astonishment was palpable.

But that’s the kind of person you are, isn’t it?

The untimely death of her husband had left Rosa to shoulder the weight of a great house, a woman alone in a man’s world. She knew only too well what hatred wrought, what toll grief exacted. This was her apology to Scáthach, not as a countess but as a princess. No words she could offer would be enough, but actions might speak better.

After a long moment, she drew away and showed Scáthach a gentle smile. “It’s grown rather cold out here. Dinner is ready, if you would step inside?” She gestured gracefully toward the doors, adding that the imperial audience would be held at midday the next day.

“What are we having for dinner?” Liz asked eagerly.

Rosa chuckled. “That, I won’t reveal. You shall have to wait and see.”

“I hope it’s sweet,” Aura murmured.

“Oh, don’t worry on that score. My dining hall does not want for desserts.” Rosa leaned toward Scáthach, who was still struggling to contain her surprise. “Do you have any particular requests?”

After a long silence, the woman spoke. “Anything warm will do.”

“Then we’d better hurry before it gets cold, hadn’t we?” Rosa cast Hiro a sidelong glance. “And you?”

“You four go ahead,” he said. “I need to discuss something with my men.”

“Very well. But be warned: take too long, and Cerberus may get your share.”

With a goodbye wave, Rosa ushered the other three into the mansion. As the doors shut behind her, Hiro looked back over his shoulder. Garda, Huginn, and Muninn stood silently at attention. Aura’s aides—with the exception of von Spitz—had accompanied them to the capital as well, but they and Tris had made arrangements to stay at House Bunadala’s mansion.

Garda spoke first. “Fear not, One-Eyed Dragon. Muninn and I will guard the place.”

“Good. Would you mind setting up camp in the garden? If anything does happen, I’ll need you on the scene immediately.”

“As you command.”

Beside Garda, Muninn pulled a sour face, but his commander’s presence obliged him to keep any complaints to himself.

Smiling wryly, Hiro turned to Huginn. “And you’ll stay in the mansion.”

“What? But... But...I’m happy to stay with the boss!”

She was putting on a brave face, Hiro could tell. Her skills with a bow might outstrip any man, but the succession of battles in Draal and Faerzen had left her on the point of exhaustion. On top of that, she took pride in being a hard worker. She refused to skip a single day of training no matter how tired she was, saying she refused to lose to any man, and was constantly pushing herself to improve, refusing to accept special treatment on account of her sex. Hiro, Garda, and her brother Muninn all hoped that she would take this opportunity to rest, but she would refuse unless given a reason she was happy with.

“I want you to be Rosa’s bodyguard.”

“A bodyguard? Me?”

“Nowhere’s safe in the capital right now. There could be assassins lurking around every corner. I need you to protect her, particularly while she’s in her own home or attending functions. That’s where she’s most likely to let her guard down.”

Huginn went quiet for a moment. “All right, Your Lordship. If that’s what you want, that’s what I’ll do.”

“Your poor old brother gets guard duty out in the cold, while you get to guzzle warm soup in a noblewoman’s mansion.” Muninn smirked like a child plotting mischief. “How the other half lives, eh? Careful, or you’ll make a man jealous.”

Huginn’s brows knitted as she sensed her brother’s playful mood. “His Lordship gave me the job ’cause he rates my skills! If you don’t like it, go run through the streets in a dress!”

“Eh? Wouldn’t that just make me a pervert?”

“And what’s new about that? You’re the one that gets off on bullying his own sister!”

Muninn snorted. “All right, if you’re gonna be like that, how about I tell everyone your interests, eh? Every night, my dear beloved sister watches the chief sleep— Oomph!”

“Say any more and I’ll deck you good!”

“You already did!”

“Shut it!”

The war of words had broken out into violence, and Huginn was winning. Hiro tore his gaze from the siblings’ spat and approached Garda, who was watching them in exasperation.

“Let’s talk about what we do next.”

Garda grunted. “Out with it, then.”

“I want you to send Muninn to infiltrate the central nobles’ mansions. Here’s a few that I’ve earmarked.” Hiro handed the zlosta a slip of paper.

Unsurprisingly, Garda’s lips tightened in discontent. “They’ll be heavily guarded. He’ll be lucky if he makes it back alive.”

“I just want him to leave signs of a break-in, nothing more. Although even that won’t be totally risk-free, I admit.”

“What are you plotting?”

“Are you aware that many of the central nobles are dissatisfied with House Krone?”

“I could have guessed it. With the commonfolk in protest, it’s no surprise they’re just as discontent.”

“So if someone breaks into the dissenting nobles’ mansions, and only those mansions, what do you think people will assume?”

That was enough to clue Garda in. He took the sheet of paper, his grin widening. “So you’ll have them thinking House Krone is keeping eyes on potential traitors?”

“That’s the idea. The mansions I’ve written down belong to the houses who have voiced complaints against House Krone. What do you think would happen if they suffered repeated break-ins?”

“An amusing ploy. Very well. I shall let Muninn know.” Garda paused. “So what would you have me do?”

“All sorts of things, probably. It depends on how everything plays out. I’ll tell you more when the time comes. For now, all you need to do is watch the mansion.”

“Very well.”

Hiro turned back to Huginn, who was still squabbling with her brother. “Shall we head inside?”

“Gladly, Your Lordship! Anything to be rid of this oaf!”

Huginn flashed Hiro a radiant smile, then spun around and bared her teeth at her brother. Muninn pulled a rude face in return.

Hiro smiled awkwardly. “All right, let’s go.” After a few steps, he turned back to Garda and Muninn. “I’m counting on you two.”

Promising to bring them some food from the table, he led Huginn inside the mansion.

＊＊＊＊＊

As soon as the pair passed through the doors, a servant escorted them to the dining room. A circular table stood in the center of the chamber, covered with a white tablecloth and laid with what looked like as many sets of cutlery as it could hold. Flower petals lay scattered over its surface, while candles bathed the scene in gently wavering light. The female contingent had already taken their seats on finely decorated chairs. The table had no head—the virtue of a round table was that it put everyone on an equal footing.

Hiro looked around, wondering where to sit.

His question was quickly answered. “This one is for you,” Rosa said, gesturing to the chair between Liz and herself.

There was a complication, however: Hiro had brought Huginn, who had probably never dined in a noble household before. Sure enough, out of the corner of his eye he saw her glancing around awkwardly, visibly uncertain what to do with herself.

Liz came to her rescue. “You sit here, Huginn,” she said kindly, laying a slender hand on the chair between herself and Aura.

Huginn shuffled over, looking nervous. Her steps were stiff with tension.

Eventually, Liz spoke up, unable to watch any longer. “Don’t worry about etiquette or manners or any of that,” she reassured her. “Just enjoy the meal.”

Huginn whimpered in relief. “Thank you, Your Ladyship...”

“Now hurry up and sit down. I’m getting too hungry to wait!”

“Yes, Your Ladyship!” With a small smile at the joke, Huginn took her place at the table.

Seeing that everybody was seated, Rosa clapped her hands. “Then let dinner be served,” she announced. The kitchen doors swung open and a column of servants poured out, carrying an assortment of luxurious dishes. She smiled with pride. “In honor of our reunion, I have prepared the finest delicacies that Soleil has to offer.”

“I’ve never seen the like...” Huginn breathed, her eyes widening at the exotic cuisine.

“Consider me impressed. This is quite the spread.” Even Scáthach, a former princess, could not conceal her astonishment. Her eyes shone as she gulped in anticipation.

“This beef is just the kind you’d like, Cerberus,” Liz said to the white wolf under her chair. “Don’t worry, I’ll save you some.”

By her side, Aura picked up her apron and, with practiced motions, tied it around her neck to spare her clothes from stains.

You know...I’ve seen this before somewhere...

The sight brought back memories of mid-range chain restaurants back on Earth. In particular, Aura looked just like a child out for a family meal seated in their little chair. She obviously wouldn’t be pleased with that observation, so he maintained a tactful silence as he watched the plates assemble.

“Now that all is ready...” As the servants finished laying out the food, Rosa held up a wine glass. “First, to the Spirit King, by whose grace you have all arrived here safe and sound. And second, to the Twelve Divines, who will rejoice to hear of your victory over the Grand Duchy.”

The rest of the table took up their own glasses—filled with wine or water—and raised them high with a resounding “To the Spirit King and the Divines!” With the toast still lingering in the air, they filled their plates with whatever caught their eye, enjoyed the exquisite fare on offer, and soon enough fell to conversing.

Under cover of the chatter, Rosa leaned in to whisper in Hiro’s ear. “I’ve gotten word that House Krone is making aggressive movements.”

Hiro’s silver spoon halted halfway from his soup to his mouth. He quietly replaced the utensil and cast Rosa a sidelong glance. “Are they now? What are they up to?”

“Scraping together every able-bodied man from every village and town they can, or so I hear. They’re scheming something wicked, there’s no question of it.”

“Only one thing comes to mind, doesn’t it?”

“And, for a good few weeks now, the city smiths have been experiencing a spike in commissions for arms and armor.”

“So who do you think they’ll move against?”

“Nobody, would be my guess. I think it’s a threat. A message to the emperor.”

Most likely, they were just trying to cover their backs in the event that they were held responsible for their actions in Faerzen, but they had been far too quick to act. If this had been planned in advance, that would be one thing, but they surely wouldn’t take such an extreme tack as to threaten the emperor just to shirk accountability.

No, this is about something else...and I think I know what.

After the death of Viscount von Wirst, the emperor had taken the province of Sieg under his personal jurisdiction. Just before Hiro’s departure for Draal, he had given it to the control of House Maruk, an undeclared house from the central territories. House Krone had petitioned him to reconsider, but he had refused to even hear their case, further deepening the rift between them.

“I’m guessing this started when they lost Sieg. Am I right?”

“You are. It’s a market keystone. They’ll stop at nothing to get it back.” Rosa paused. “I expect they’ll try to make a move at tomorrow’s council, but the emperor won’t give them an inch. He’s out to weaken them.”

“Well, far be it for us to get in his way...but it sounds like you don’t feel that way.”

“Our interests align up to the point of hurting House Krone, but past that point? It’s anyone’s guess.” Rosa heaved a sigh and crossed her arms, her expression conflicted. “He wants to topple them and raise up House Maruk as the new head of the central nobles, but even if the latter are inducted into the great houses, they won’t offer you or Liz their support. That would mean bowing to me.”

The eastern nobles stood behind Hiro, and after his invasion of Draal, the whole court knew that Hiro stood behind Liz.

“However,” Rosa continued, “nor will they oppose you. That much is certain. They will have no choice but to watch and wait.”

Third Prince Brutahl already had the backing of the western nobles and Second Prince Selene the backing of the north. There was no room left in either tent for anybody else. House Maruk would have to find another heir to support, but removing Liz and Hiro from the picture left extremely slim pickings. Their best bet would be the previous emperor’s nephew, but the man was old enough that he might drop dead at any time.

A thought struck Hiro—one that could pose a problem. “The emperor doesn’t have any brothers, does he?”

“No.” Rosa’s voice was a flat dismissal. Greiheit had once been the youngest of six brothers, she explained, but the rest had either met with unfortunate accidents or passed away from sickness. “Suspicion fell upon him, of course, but nothing was ever proven.”

The deaths had all occurred at the palace, and all while he had been elsewhere. Some had suspected the use of assassins, but those accusations were soon abandoned—it had been determined that without the backing of any court faction, he hadn’t possessed the power or resources to accomplish such a thing.

Now that is interesting, Hiro thought.

Five elder brothers, five convenient deaths. There was little doubt that the emperor had had a hand in the deeds, no matter how well he seemed to have covered his tracks. But how had he done it? It was an interesting question to chew on, even if there was no longer any meaning in cracking the case.

I need some kind of weakness I can exploit. With any luck, he’ll slip up somehow during the audience.

When tomorrow dawned and Hiro stood before the throne, he was bound to get a clearer picture of the emperor’s schemes whether he wanted to or not. He would also be able to learn more about the up-and-coming House Maruk’s place in the game.

“Do you know which nobles will be present tomorrow?” he asked.

“House Maruk and House Krone will have to be, given the rumors. And the head of House Muzuk of the south has also announced his provisional intent to attend.”

“‘Provisional intent’?”

Attendance at such a ceremony did not require any such announcement. Indeed, it was unthinkable that the head of a great house might be refused.

Rosa gave an exasperated shrug, took a sip of wine, and sighed. “Trying to confuse the rest of the court into looking for meaning where there is none, no doubt. He’s a conniving little weasel. I doubt he’ll show his face tomorrow, but he’s the kind to pounce on the slightest sign of weakness, so you’d best watch your back.” She paused. “But Second Prince Selene is the one you should really keep an eye on. He’s in the capital too, and he’s brought his lackeys.”

So the wolf of the north had broken his long silence. That put a decisive end to Hiro’s calm, but without a clear idea of what the man wanted, he could do nothing but watch and wait. Besides, the emotion stirring in his chest was not trepidation, but joy.

“It sounds like things are getting interesting,” Hiro remarked. The second prince had always insisted that he had no interest in matters of succession. What could have prompted this change of heart?

“They’re getting alarming,” Rosa retorted. “He rode in with twenty thousand men.”

The southern nobles’ military presence numbered ten thousand, she explained; her and the eastern nobles’ escort came to eight. The western nobles would not be attending.

“It’s not just that they won’t attend. They can’t afford to.” Aura leaned in to join the conversation, wiping glistening grease from her lips with a white napkin. “The west is in crisis. All of its different factions are pulling it apart.”

Rosa turned to her with sympathetic eyes. “So it seems. House Münster no longer has any practical authority.”

Third Prince Brutahl’s position as third in line to the throne was just barely holding things together. If he were to lose that rank, the western nobles would collapse. The odds of them receiving punishment at tomorrow’s audience were low, but Hiro would have to be more careful about his moves in future. It would inconvenience his plans if they fell prematurely.

“First of all, we should deal with House Krone,” he said.

The central nobles were the most rotten in all the territories, so they needed to be the first to fall. They themselves were aware of that fact, which was probably why they were making such aggressive moves. If House Krone found themselves under fire tomorrow, their “threat” to the emperor might quickly transform into a very real fighting force.

“That’s why the emperor didn’t limit the size of the escort that nobles could bring to the capital. He was preparing for House Krone taking drastic measures.”

For a central noble rebellion, in other words. Had it really been necessary for him to make them so desperate? He was probably reasoning that he could quash them quickly now that the people were on his side. Hiro would have preferred to avoid civil war entirely, no matter how brief, but the emperor was set in his course. Rosa seemed to think so, anyway, judging by the resignation in her eyes.

“If it comes to that,” she said, “the central nobles can field around fifty thousand men by my estimates. Back before you became Fourth Prince, when they were stronger, it would have been twice that.”

“Even just fifty thousand is enough that we’d need allies,” Hiro said. Even if all of the armed forces in the capital banded together, it would only just even the odds.

“I wouldn’t count on that,” Rosa replied, “even if the worst does come to pass.”

Hiro had to agree. Every faction would be trying to steal glory for themselves so as to impress the emperor. There would be no hope for cooperation in that environment, only the knowledge that, if they put a foot wrong, they would be picked off one by one. Still, the emperor seemed determined to forge ahead, regardless of the risks. Extending the attending nobles the freedom to bring as many soldiers as they chose showed as much.

“In the end, all depends on what His Majesty decrees tomorrow.” Rosa smiled as she savored her wine. “But no matter how all this plays out, it is only House Krone that is rotten. All else is in perfect order. The Grantzian Empire’s foundations stand firm yet.”

Hiro had to wonder if that was true. With so many plots in the air, it seemed a hasty judgment to make. There was nothing so ugly as political conflict. Nations invariably fell to their own people. And once House Krone had been crippled, House Kelheit, with their two imperial heirs, would be the natural next target.

And that’s to say nothing of the possibility of outside interference.

It always paid to be cautious, but how best to fend off the hands grasping from the dark? Hiro pondered to himself between mouthfuls of fine cuisine as the night drew on.

＊＊＊＊＊

After dinner concluded, Hiro returned to his assigned room. The women had gone to the baths together, leaving him alone. He drew closer to the moonlit windowsill and picked up a book. The text was known as the White Chronicle—an account of the life of Emperor Artheus, including the solitude and grief that was said to have defined his final years.

“Might things have been different if I had stayed?” Hiro murmured.

Regret swelled in his chest. Could he have spared Artheus that torment if only he had remained at his side instead of returning to Earth?

He read in silence for a while. A chill breeze blew through the chamber, although the window was closed. Grief writhed in his chest with every page he turned. There was no happy ending there. Artheus might have saved Aletia from the zlosta, but his life as emperor had been anything but peaceful. The future he had won bred strife, envy, and war between humans. By all accounts, after achieving his dream, he had spent the rest of his life on the battlefield.

“This is...cruel.”

What kind of ending was that for a man who had fought so hard for peace?

“This isn’t the future we fought the zlosta for.” Hiro closed the book and clenched his fist bitterly.

Cerberus, who had been exempt from bath time due to her wounds, pressed against his leg.

“I’m all right,” he murmured, stroking her head softly.

Just then, he heard voices from the corridor.

“Ugh, how did your chest even get that big?”

“I should sooner ask why my sister’s is so small when the same blood runs in both our veins.”

“I don’t know! I wish I did!”

Hearing Liz and Rosa approaching, Hiro stowed the White Chronicle inside the Black Camellia. Their footsteps stopped outside of the door, which opened without so much as a knock.

“Ah.” Rosa’s eyebrows rose to see him standing by the windowsill. “You’re still awake, I see.”

“A little late for mischief, isn’t it?”

“Whyever would you say that? I merely thought you might have turned in early.” With a forced laugh, she settled down into a nearby chair.

Mentally marking her as suspicious, Hiro turned to the other visitor. “And what are you doing here, Liz?”

“Um...about that...” With an awkward smile, she dove onto the bed.

Hiro crossed his arms and cocked his head quizzically at the pair.

At that moment, a servant entered. “Your wine, my lady.”

“Excellent,” Rosa said. “Leave it there.”

“Very good, my lady.” WIth a sharp bow, he exited the room.

“Good man.” Once he was out of sight, Rosa opened the wine bottle and filled a glass with its crimson contents. She shone a smile at her sister as she savored its aroma. “You aren’t planning on putting this off forever, are you?”

Liz’s shoulders twitched, but she stayed face down in the duvet.

“No one will interrupt us now. If you’ve something to say, now’s the time.”

Rosa’s encouragement seemed to push Liz to a decision. She sat up on the bed. “We have to talk,” she said, glancing at Hiro’s face for a moment before looking away awkwardly. “I want to make my father admit responsibility for what happened in Faerzen. I want to make him promise them support.”

Her eyes held him again, and this time she did not look away. Their crimson irises burned with a fierce will.

“I know how hard you’ve been trying for my sake. And I know that turning Father against us could ruin all that hard work. It might even endanger your position—both of your positions. But... But I can’t just leave things like they are! It isn’t right!”

“Oh, Liz...”

“Is that stupid of me?” Liz gave a little tilt of her head, seemingly worried that she’d annoyed him.

For a while, Hiro only stared at her in surprise. Eventually, out of curiosity, he cast a glance at her sister. Rosa was sipping her wine with a smile on her face, delighted that Liz had begun to act on her own ideals.

Hiro, naturally, felt the same. “Of course not,” he said.

“What? Really?”

“But there’s more, isn’t there? Tell me the rest.”

If she had reached that conclusion, that couldn’t have been the only thing on her mind.

“Oh. Um, right.” Liz’s nervousness was written on her face. She took a few deep breaths, then clenched her fists tight and laid her hands on her chest. “So...about House Krone...”

In brief, she meant to press their guilt for their actions in Faerzen and request that they foot the bill for the nation’s reconstruction, as well as pay reparations to war orphans and those who had lost work due to their wounds. Then, while the throne room inevitably descended into chaos, she would demand an apology from the emperor.

“That won’t erase the empire’s crimes,” she concluded, “but I hope it will earn some forgiveness from the people of Faerzen.”

“I see,” Hiro said. “But I doubt the emperor will agree to that.”

“That’s all right. I don’t need him to make a decision then and there. That’s why I’ll bring it up while everyone’s arguing. I’ll take the chance to propose stripping Stovell of his position for killing the royal family too.”

“And what about the emperor’s guilt? It sounds like that’s going to be left up in the air.”

“That’s fine. The people are bound to hear about this eventually. All I really want is that when they do, they remember that I was the first to ask him to apologize.”

So she planned to weaponize common opinion. Just like Hiro had condemned House Krone through the voices of the commonfolk, Liz planned to use the people as a cudgel to pressure the emperor to admit guilt. Her plan needed some refining, but it was a good one. Striking the emperor with a confounding question while he was already off-balance, amplifying his confusion and compromising his judgment... She had thought this through. Her suggestions broadly aligned with Hiro’s own thoughts.

“It’s a good plan. I’ll be glad to help.”

Rosa chuckled. “Look at my little sister, all grown up.” She smiled, her cheeks flushed with drink.

“Are you sure about this?” Liz asked.

“Of course. You just follow your heart.”

Such was the duty of any who aspired to rule. One had to be flexible of thought but firm of will if they meant to rule a nation.

She’s grown. Far more than I expected.

At this rate, she would be more than all right on her own. And she would not be alone—she had Rosa, Aura, Tris, Cerberus, and any number of other allies. She was no longer the girl she had been when they’d first met.

My part in this will soon be done.

It was time for Hiro to accelerate his own plans.

“If you want to press the emperor for an apology, I’m with you.”

With the eastern nobles on his side, on the wings of a historical victory, supporting her shouldn’t endanger his standing.

“All right.” A smile blossomed on Liz’s lips, pleased to have her plan accepted. She was almost dazzling to look at.

Hiro’s hand drifted to the White Chronicle where it lay inside the Black Camellia.

I think she could really do it.

From that night forth, he was certain.

Liz was capable of preserving Artheus’s legacy.