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Chapter 13
Every time they talked, she felt it: though Walter was of the same race as her, it sometimes seemed as if they were communicating in different languages.
Did geniuses think differently, too?
Even though she hadn’t dealt with him many times, in every one of their meetings he had flustered Lucy with remarks that seemed to come from nowhere.
It was the same now. She had no idea why, or in what way, he liked her working as a refugee broker. And if that was supposed to be the reason she should become king, she understood it even less.
“I don’t follow what you mean at all.”
“Your Highness left the human kingdom and is helping the lycans in the city of the Rafi.”
Walter spoke in a gentle tone and added one strong sentence, as if stamping a brand.
“That is why I was drawn to you, I think.”
She understood even less.
Had he been impressed by the sight of her helping another race?
She was someone who treated people without discrimination to begin with, so perhaps. But it didn’t seem to be only such a simple reason.
Lucy twitched her lips, then sorted out her thoughts with a small sigh. In the first place, an ordinary person could never understand a genius. Whatever it was, if he liked her, wasn’t that enough?
Right, fine.
She had made up her mind to become a ruler long ago anyway. She had tried to kill time in the hope that her desire for revenge would fade, but her grudge, her longing to kill that crown prince bastard, never died down like a smoldering ember, and it was burning her up inside even at this very moment.
If her life was going to burn out someday regardless, then at least this time, she wanted to land one kick on that bastard before she died.
There was no need to refuse a table that had been set for her.
He was the sword she had meant to get her hands on anyway. Since Walter had come forward himself and said he would make her king, she would gladly ride on those wings.
“If you’re going to put me forward as king, you’ll have a rather hard time, Grand General.”
“As long as Your Highness is prepared, I will be fine.”
“Are you really confident you won’t regret it?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm.”
A long shadow fell behind the two of them as they sat side by side. Gazing at the rising sun, Lucy gulped down the cold tea and let out a light breath.
“Well then, why not. Let’s give it a try.”
At Lucy’s answer, Walter nodded, barely perceptibly.
The air, warmed by the sunlight, drove out the chill and sent a soft breeze drifting by. The faint smell of burning wood on the wind suggested the shepherds had lit fires to brew their tea.
The two, who had exchanged a matter of such weight so casually, realized that their interests had crossed and calmly savored the moment. To any onlooker, it was a compromise reached so abruptly it was almost anticlimactic.
Gazing at the flock of sheep with a quiet face, Walter let out a deflated breath and spoke first.
“I know the sudden proposal must have surprised you, but please don’t worry. It’s embarrassing to say myself, but I take pride in being a fairly useful soldier.”
Wondering what he meant, she looked at him, and Walter turned his gaze away with a faint smile.
“I have always trained while reminding myself of loyalty, but I never expected the object of that loyalty to disappear in such a way. Perhaps… my rushing straight to Your Highness like this was also based on a desire to quickly find someone to replace it.”
Stroking his lower lip with his thumb, Walter continued with a low hum.
“Still, I hope you will not dismiss my devotion as a momentary whim. I have glimpsed the qualities of a wise ruler in Your Highness. To prove it, I will serve you at the cost of my life.”
Lucy rose from her seat. She set down her teacup, crossed her arms, and seemed to deliberate for a moment, then stepped in front of Walter and looked down at him.
Staring at him intently as though examining something, Lucy broke into a boyish grin. Then she slowly reached out her hand and held it out before him.
“I don’t know the details, but fine. Never forget those words, and protect me. For now, you’re the only one I can trust.”
“…Your Highness.”
“And I, in turn, will strive to become the sovereign you hope for. I’m counting on you from here on, Walter.”
Over the hand extended for a handshake, the sunlight that opened the new morning blazed down strongly.
Parnas was the place with the most varied climate of the three kingdoms.
Dopein in the south always had a hot, dry climate, while Antevasila, which occupied a long strip of land along the eastern coast, showed stark climatic differences between its north and south.
Parnas, however, had four distinct seasons across its entire territory. The northwest in particular boasted beautiful scenery, with autumn foliage dyeing the whole land every fall.
Duke Keel, admiring the feast of multicolored leaves, let out a breath and lifted his gaze a little higher. Beyond the carriage window, the deep blue sky announced that autumn had arrived.
“Your Excellency, you seem somewhat dispirited.”
The attendant sitting across from him spoke up with a puzzled look. Keel folded his arms with a faint smile.
“I’m worried about today’s meeting. I slept fitfully last night, and I have a bad feeling about it.”
“That’s needless worry. There’s no one other than Your Excellency who is fit for the throne. I don’t think there’s any need to worry…”
About a month had passed since the last meeting.
The lords were still busy sharpening their blades against one another, and the Grand General, who had opposed electing a new king, was running about to the north and west without offering any alternative.
Even while watching each other’s reactions, the other lords were also saying they could no longer endure the king’s absence.
Rumors that the royal palace had been reduced to ruins were gradually spreading through the capital, and the two rival nations, using the king’s recovery as a pretext, were saying they would send envoys to confirm the truth of the rumors.
No further delay was possible.
A king now had to be decided.
Among the lords, those qualified to challenge for the throne were only the elder of elders, Duke Keel; the Marquis of Rutherford, the mainstay of the rising faction; and Duke Witten, who had maintained a close relationship with the royal family.
Of these, the most likely candidate for the next throne was, needless to say, Duke Keel.
With his broad insight, bold decisiveness, and swift execution, Keel had led countless reforms. Not only had he brought prosperity to his duchy, but he had also opened trade routes and revived the stagnant capital.
Unlike the other nobles, who were preoccupied with merely protecting their own domains, Keel had lived a life devoted to Parnas. If not him, who could possibly become king?
For that reason, the attendant foresaw that his master would seize the throne without difficulty.
But Keel shook his head silently.
“I still haven’t been able to find out the Grand General’s intentions. If he doesn’t relent and keeps being stubborn, even I will have a hard time.”
“Would the Grand General’s intentions matter now? Even if his opinion differs, he’s too busy with other matters to have the leisure to interfere in domestic affairs.”
“Hmm. Though the area around the border has been uneasy lately.”
The attendant nodded, looking brighter.
“Dopein and Antevasila are on the verge of conflict. If war breaks out, it will naturally affect Parnas as well, but is there any topic better suited to diverting the Grand General’s attention? For the time being, he’ll be absorbed in guarding the border.”
“…Yes. I suppose so.”
“And even if something should happen, the Grand General will handle it on his own. Whatever else one says, he is an undefeated commander.”
Recalling Walter, Keel put on an ambiguous smile.
“True. I can simply wait for him to earn merit while restoring order in the capital. And if we establish a new era name at the ceremony honoring the Grand General, the picture wouldn’t be bad, either.”
As the attendant said, perhaps a war might be quite helpful in the present situation.
Watching a fire is the best entertainment in the world, as the saying goes; if Dopein and Antevasila declared full-scale war, the people of the kingdom would take the war between neighboring countries as their main topic rather than the turmoil in the capital.
Even if that weren’t the case, with tensions among the three kingdoms running high, the Grand General couldn’t move carelessly.
The king’s untimely death had been nothing but tragic and shocking when he first faced it, but looking back now, it might be a stroke of good fortune that had come at just the right time for a generational change.
“Whatever happens, it isn’t bad. Yes… it isn’t bad at all.”
Repeating it to himself, Keel pressed a hand to his forehead.
It was a plausible plan, and no matter how he turned it over, there was no obstacle to speak of. Yet the unease he had pushed into a corner of his heart crept up, slithering, and chilled the back of his neck.
