Then, with the current king’s faction and the corrupt nobles having vanished from the capital, only an empty lot on which he might build whatever he wished would remain. He could reinstate King Albert as his puppet, if he so wished. Or he could rise to become king himself.
Excel stood up. “Have you been driven mad with ambition for the throne?!”
“H-Hey now, calm down,” Castor intervened, trying to smooth things over. “This is Duke Carmine you’re talking about. I’m sure he’s not planning to usurp the throne, right?”
Georg gave a nod. “Of course not. Once King Souma is removed, I will have King Albert take the throne once more, and we will support him.”
“…I’m not convinced.” Excel lowered her posture. She was feigning calmness, but she was actually quite flustered.
The situation is worse than I anticipated. This is the worst possible scenario… Perhaps I need to act on the assumption that Georg already has undisclosed ties with Amidonia. Ugh, if Castor was any judge of character, we might have worked together to reign in Duke Carmine… Excel cursed her son-in-law for his short-sightedness.
Her daughter had married into his house and had since borne her two grandchildren. She was worried what might happen if she let Duke Carmine win, but if Excel were the only one to join the loyalist faction and King Souma were then to win, as the wife and children of the traitor Castor, what would become of Accela and her children? Under this country’s laws, when a serious offense was committed, relatives of up to three degrees of consanguinity were guilty of the same crime. If she cut ties with the House of Castor, the House of Walter would avoid that chain of responsibility, but if she did that, Accela and the children would…
“Castor,” she said.
“What?”
“Cut your ties with Accela, Carl, and Carla.”
“Are you trying to say we’re going to lose to that whelp?!” he shouted.
“It’s in case the worst should happen. If you intend to face the king, at least be prepared for the possibility.”
Excel glanced over at Georg, but his eyes were closed, as if to say he had no intent of intervening. Even though she was discussing what would happen if he lost… Was this a show of confidence, perhaps?
Castor who had been asked to cut ties with his wife and children, on the other hand, had a troubled look on his face. “Accela and Carl, maybe… But Carla, I can’t.”
“Why not?!” Excel demanded.
“…Because she’ll never listen to me.”
At that moment, the doors to the conference room slammed open.
Through the open door, a beautiful young girl entered. Her flaming red hair and shining golden eyes were quite distinctive. She was sixteen or seventeen years old. She wore heavy armor in a metallic red color, and from her back and rear protruded the wings and tail of a dragon.
“Carla…” whispered Excel.
This was Castor’s daughter, Carla.
She had gotten her facial features from Excel and was a fair young beauty, but when it came to her temperament, Castor’s blood seemed to have won out. Instead of doing anything feminine, she had joined the air force unit led by Castor, training day in and day out.
Because of her beautiful face, many sons of the nobility and gentry had sought her attentions, but she had said in no uncertain terms that “I will never take a man weaker than me as my husband.”
In fact, she was the second strongest in the air force after Castor, and so she had handily trounced every one of her suitors. As a father, Castor was relieved, but as a parent, his feelings were more complicated, and he worried she might wait too long and never be able to get married.
Seeing Carla appear here, Excel had a bad feeling about what was going to happen.
And, as she had expected, Carla said, “Grandmother! If Father has decided to fight, then I shall fight, too!”
Excel shouted back, a vein pulsing on her forehead, “No, you must not! Do you mean to become a traitor at your age?!”
“I cannot forgive him for unseating King Albert and trying to force himself on my friend, Princess Liscia!” she declared. “I will punish him for his insolence personally!”
“You’ve misunderstood!” Excel shouted. “King Souma is…”
“Ah… It’s no use, Mother. Once she gets like this, Carla won’t budge an inch.” Castor shrugged his shoulders in resignation.
“You people… Honestly…”
Even as Excel held her head in consternation, Georg remained silent.
The capital of the Principality of Amidonia, Van.
In the territory of the Principality of Amidonia, which was longer on the map than it was wide, this city on the eastern side was the capital.
Some had felt it was too close to the Elfrieden Kingdom to be a capital, but its selection had likely been a manifestation of their unbroken determination to regain the stolen eastern territory.
In the governmental affairs office in the castle in the center of Van, a middle-aged man with a handlebar mustache was reviewing documents.
His cloaked figure looked somewhat plump, but this was only because he had broad shoulders. He was not actually obese. In fact, under his cloak, he was extremely muscular.
This man was Prince Gaius VIII of Amidonia.
“Oh ho…” he said.
“What is it, Father?” A young man in his twenties who stood waiting at his side queried. He had a handsome face, but his eyes had a cold glint which chilled those who looked at them. He was the crown prince and heir apparent of the Principality of Amidonia, Iulius Amidonia.
Gaius handed the document he had been reading to Iulius. “It’s from Georg Carmine. It seems he’s ready to ‘stand up.’”
“I see,” Iulius said. “At long last. I’ve heard of the swift, severe attacks he would make in his younger years, never giving us time to catch our breaths. For a personage of such ability, he was awfully slow to act.”
“He’s grown old, I’m sure,” his father said. “Were his mind still keen, he never would have taken us up on our offer.”
“True…”
After Iulius returned the document to him, Gaius rose from his seat. “We will move when the new king declares war. Send ‘reinforcements’ to the kingdom.”
“Oh…? And to which side?”
“Which? To the king’s side, we say, ‘We are with the three dukes,’ to the three dukes’ side, we say, ‘We are with the new king.’”
“I see,” Iulius said. “We have no reason to obey either side that way.”
“Heh heh heh. Precisely.”
Gaius and Iulius looked to one another and shared a dark smile.
Beside them, there was a pair of cold eyes watching.
Good heavens… Sometimes I just ain’t sure what I oughta do about my old man and my idiot brother.
The cold eyes belonged to a young girl.
She was sixteen or seventeen years old. She had an attractive face, like Iulius, but not his air of cruelty. If anything, her eyes were small and beady, and with her round face, she had the stuffed animal-like adorableness of a raccoon dog. Her hair was tied in two braids at the nape of her neck.
This girl who looked good in these braid-style twintails was the first princess of this country, Roroa Amidonia. However, contrary to appearances, her inner voice was sharp tongued (and spoke in mercantile dialect).
This country ain’t long for this world as is. Are these idiots tryin’ to shorten what little time it has left? she thought.
Amidonia was a mountainous country. It had plentiful metal resources, but on the other hand, it had little arable land, so it was always faced with food shortages. The food crisis in neighboring Elfrieden was bad, but nothing compared to what this country faced. Even a slightly poor harvest would mean people starved to death.