SPB 3

chapter 3

At Erdene’s words, Roellica visibly flinched. Her face turned pale, her lips trembling.

Erdene sneered at Tenek.

“If the Empress has even a shred of thought to embrace you…”

Tenek’s cheek twitched. Ever since childhood, whenever he was angry, his face would jerk like that. Perhaps it wasn’t exactly a habit he could control… Regardless, even in his fury, he kept a careful distance from Erdene, not taking a single step closer. A painstaking effort to maximize the space between them.

Erdene couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought: had Father been here, he would have scolded Tenek so thoroughly that the crown atop his head would have been tossed aside.

Biting the inside of his twitching cheek, Tenek forced a smile, feigning composure.

“Returning from a long war victorious and not receiving any reward… can we just leave it at that?”

“Letting me leave here unharmed seems the greatest reward to me.”

“Is that so?”

A self-satisfied smirk spread across Tenek’s face. Erdene instantly sensed that he was plotting something—something she would certainly find infuriating. It was the same expression he had made as a child when scheming mischief against her—a mixture of inferiority and petty triumph.

“Bring it here!”

Bring what? Erdene thought. Perhaps he meant a contraption to bind her and end her life?

Of course, he didn’t. But when the attendants carried in the ornate boxes, Erdene thought, briefly, that a gallows might have been less troublesome than this. Whatever was inside could only clash with her entirely.

Nothing legendary, like a sword forged by a master blacksmith’s soul, could possibly be inside.

Tenek looked at Erdene’s confused and wary expression and laughed with satisfaction.

“To celebrate your victory and honor you, your one and only brother has prepared a gift like no other.”

He commanded the attendants arrogantly:

“What are you waiting for? Open it.”

The attendants kneeled and placed the boxes before him, lifting the lids in unison.

As lace and ribbons were pulled away, revealing the contents, Erdene felt as if she were dreaming—though not a pleasant dream.

“What… is all this…”

Finally, a single groan escaped her lips, unable to form proper words.

Inside the boxes, everything was dazzlingly white and gleaming. Veils made of lace that could have taken a year to craft, dresses embroidered with gold and silver thread without a single gap, diamonds, top-quality pearls, various ornaments, ceremonial robes, even shoes.

Among all this splendor, what struck Erdene as most absurd was a single letter.

Its ornate, impractical handwriting, with every line carefully drawn, marked the sender as someone of considerable authority. But that was nothing compared to what caught her attention: the clear emblem sealed on the envelope.

It was the crest of the Kingdom of Vettor—the most prosperous inland ally, potentially the fiercest opponent of the Hirschsten Empire someday.

Erdene looked up at Tenek, glaring.

“What on earth is this supposed to be?”

Tenek’s eyes narrowed like a snake.

“Why that face? You should be pleased. Hirschsten has now formed friendly relations with several inland nations. As you know, this country has vast lands but barely grows a single grain of rice.”

At this point, wouldn’t it be acceptable to just kill him? Erdene’s hand clenched around her sword hilt as she glared at him.

“From your words earlier, it seems you are the greatest lover of Hirschsten. How about showing that loyalty in person? It will be good for you too.”

“Speak clearly, Tenek. What are you saying?”

Her tone was almost identical to how it had been as a child—scolding him when he stole or ruined her things. But there was one difference. Now, unlike before, she could not rush him to punish him.

Whether or not he deserved it, he was already the Emperor. And Erdene had failed to prepare any means to challenge him. If she laid a finger on him, Tenek could accuse her of treason and harm her. With his violent and ruthless temperament, he could even implicate her knights and officers to bring them dishonor. That she could not allow.

“Vettor’s king wishes to make you queen. They have allied with us and promise to supply ample food to the empire’s people, so no one will starve. The era of war is over, Erdene!”

With these words, Tenek drove a final wedge into Erdene’s chest—probably meaning: Your era is over.

“I’ll give you two days to pack light. Vettor is richer than us; what need have you of much from here?”

Erdene felt her vision flash white, ripple, and sway. Despite countless battles and near-death experiences, she had never felt her senses spin like this.

After the knights and officers, furious as if their own children were being sold, had departed, Erdene dismissed all attendants and sat alone in her room.

Even though Tenek was now Emperor, the sunniest, warmest room in the Hirschsten Golden Palace remained hers.

From the curtains in the morning, she could see the vast northern landscape, and the mountains, reminiscent of legendary dragons, rose like walls protecting her.

A room fit for the next heir of the throne—but now, it was meaningless.

Even if I stubbornly refuse, it won’t matter.

Erdene stared at the crimson sunset, lost in thought.

Yes, she could refuse. Most had foolishly fallen for Tenek’s cunning words, but the most competent officers remained loyal to her. Even thousands of soldiers rushing in at once would not overwhelm her.

But…

“This country has vast lands but barely grows a single grain of rice,” Tenek’s proud words rang in her mind like a raucous monkey, scrambling around incessantly.

He might be physically weak, unable to train in combat, but he was far from stupid. He had accurately gauged that the people’s belligerence stemmed from fear of hunger.

Then why not just take it? That’s how we’ve always lived.

Erdene clenched her fists and bit her lips. She did not know when Tenek had begun extending his influence over inland allies, but he had clearly secured enough food to satisfy them—and probably presented it to the people, posing as a generous ruler.

Erdene recalled once more the strange feeling she had upon entering the capital: the lively, joyful sounds that had cut off like a knife the moment the soldiers arrived. They were no longer the glorious heroes returning with news of victory. They were merely scoundrels stirring up the calm, comfortable lives of people who might otherwise never again face the battlefield.

No one will raise the empire’s banner and fight anymore.

A sigh escaped her lips. Once people had tasted abundance, who would wish to return to those days?

Erdene understood. The nation’s pride, the Empire, and the Hirschsten name were burdens only for the royal family and loyal knights. Citizens only needed not to betray the state—they could not be forced to love it.

Yet still, her heart ached, thick with dust and frustration.

No one would again sharpen swords for Hirschsten, mount their horses, and charge forward. Knights’ armor would rust from neglect, and banners that once fluttered across battlefields would rot in storage until mice nested among them.

“Damn it…” Erdene closed her eyes slowly.

Through her thin eyelids, the red sunset bled into her vision, then sank into darkness.

As princess, she had often sat here, calmly enjoying the setting sun. But today, that would be the last time.