Editing Tytania:Volume 2 Chapter 8 (section)

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The news of Zarlisch Tytania’s untimely demise sent enormous and profound shock-waves through Uraniborg. Since the time of the first lord Neville, Tytania’s rule had been subject to ceaseless military challenges, and there had been numerous instances in the past where the heads of the Five Families had fallen in battle.

Consequently, Zarlisch’s untimely death was by no means an unprecedented tragedy; yet there were indeed those who felt that, since the accession of His Highness Ajman, the current Landless Clanner, the authority of Tytania that had remained unshakeable until the previous year, was beginning to waver.

“First the younger brother, now the elder. What an ill-fated lineage.”

Some sighed in this manner. However, rather than indulging in sentimentality, many were discussing future political and military developments. Both within and outside Tytania.

“Even so, isn’t Tytania’s military organisation rather fragile? To lose to the Bargash army of all people, the very moment they lost their commander…”

“No, perhaps the true strength of Tytania’s Army is actually only of that calibre. Come to think of it, wasn’t it only about half a year ago that Duke Ariabert suffered defeat at the Battle of Cerberus?”

“So Tytania is by no means invincible, then?”

“Perhaps we have simply been intimidated by Tytania’s false image. There have been far too many instances of this lately.”

“It might be a sign that a crack is forming in the mirror. If that’s the case, I’m looking forward to seeing how Bargash plays its hand…”

Amongst those who harboured resentment or bitterness towards Tytania, such whispers were being exchanged with growing fervour. They shared the experience of having been let down time and again after raising their hopes. It would be unthinkable to destroy themselves in an attempt to shatter an illusion. Initially, they would likely confine themselves to observing from the sidelines.

It was said that the Dowager Duchess of Tytania, Teresa, who had lost both her sons Zarlisch and Arses within a short space of time, has been driven to madness. Although she presumably did not love Zarlisch as much as she did Arses, perhaps the instinctive bond between mother and child is ultimately unbreakable. While this naturally aroused sympathy, many had frowned upon the fact that the widow’s frenzy has been directed at her retainers and ladies-in-waiting, with one maid sustaining serious injuries after having a vase smashed into her face.

“Surely we cannot fail to invite his mother to the funeral, but if she were to display such wild behaviour, it would tarnish the prestige of Tytania. How will His Clanner Highness handle this?…”

The eyes of those loyal to Tytania were fixed upon the despot, Ajman. Come what may, the Clanner set the overarching policy, and others must abide by it. Ajman, for his part, maintained public silence for twenty-four hours after announcing Zarlisch’s sudden death.

Although Zarlisch’s disappearance should have been a tragedy, the first emotion Clanner Ajman felt was bitter anger. That, however, did not last long; it was replaced by cold calculation and reason. The dead cannot be brought back to life. It was impossible to revive Zarlisch. Yet his death had to be exploited to its fullest possible extent so that Tytania may secure the greatest political advantage.

To put it bluntly, Zarlisch’s life as an individual was not worth sparing. Though he was an unparalleled military commander, his seat on the Tytanian leadership could certainly be filled by another. Duke Ajman, the military strategist, and Duke Jouslain, the political tactician, were both still alive and well; and, above all, Clanner Ajman himself stood unshakeable. Tytania remained the greatest power bloc in the universe, and Zarlisch’s death was nothing more than a minor sunspot.

Meanwhile, Viscount Balamy Tytania has been posted to the planet Tyron.

For Balamy, having to leave Uraniborg at such a critical juncture must surely have been a source of deep regret. Moreover, this was the result of a punishment, in the form of joint punishment with the Duke Idris’ unworthy younger brother, that could almost be described as exile.

Planet Tyron to which Balamy had been banished, was home to one of the Interstellar City League’s four major trading posts; economic activity there was thriving, and it was by no means a barren wasteland. Furthermore, the planet was not necessarily well-disposed towards the Interstellar City League; as a reaction to this, it tended to lean more towards Tytania. As a counsellor at the Tytanian delegation and a holder of a peerage, he would undoubtedly be treated as a man of distinction. Although he was fully aware of these circumstances, Balamy could not shake the feeling that he had been exiled to a foreign land.

Only two people saw Balamy off at Uraniborg’s second spaceport. Duke Jouslain Tytania and Princess Lydia of the Kingdom of Elbing. The lively ten-year-old princess seemed somewhat less boisterous than usual that day. She felt a child’s sense of responsibility.

“Bar, I’ve done a terrible thing. You saved me from that brute, and yet things have turned out like this…”

“No, please don’t worry about it, Your Highness. I’ve never liked that Radmoth guy anyway. I rather think I should have given him a proper thrashing.”

It was clear from the string of uninspired lines that Balamy did not mean what he was saying. However, the fact that he was taking care not to burden Princess Lydia’s heart suggested that the eighteen-year-old Balamy might have developed a certain maturity of character compared to before. Jouslain thought this must be a welcome change for his younger cousin, and felt renewed admiration for Princess Lydia’s refreshing influence on his character.

“Viscount Balamy, I shall summon you back to Uraniborg as soon as possible. But be sure not to rush things.”

Jouslain’s own farewell was not particularly original either. In fact, he believed that as long as Balamy did not act hastily, there would be plenty of opportunities for him to regain the ground he had unjustly lost.

In response to the words of his superior and elder cousin, Balamy made no attempt to reply at length and merely said, “Very well, I shall be off,” saluted, and turned on his heel to walk towards the boarding ramp of the transport ship.

Watching his receding figure, Princess Lydia spoke thoughtfully.

“Might my presence be a burden to you, Duke Jouslain? Bar has gone far away, and it is all my fault.”

It was no pleasure for Jouslain to see this usually vivacious princess looking so dejected. He placed his hand on Princess Lydia’s shoulder and patted it gently.

“Princess, do not worry needlessly. If a beauty frets too much, she will age prematurely.”

It was a poor joke.

“I shall certainly summon Viscount Balamy back before long. After all, he confronted that insolent man in order to rescue you. If you say you are to blame, it would make Balamy’s struggle unjust.”

“I see. I understand.”

The astute Princess Lydia seemed to find Jouslain’s reasoning convincing. Seeming to have regained some of her spirits, Princess Lydia’s curiosity was reawakened, and she posed a question to Jouslain.

“But, given what has happened, wouldn’t it cause you some trouble, Lord Jouslain, if Lord Idris were to become the next Clanner?”

“Well…”

Jouslain was evasive. It was a question he could not answer lightly.

Strictly speaking, this was not a question but Princess Lydia’s observation; yet the fact that even a child, however perceptive she might be, held such a view surely proved that, in the eyes of adults, the discord between Jouslain and Idris was glaringly obvious. This was not a welcome realisation for Jouslain. While Ariabert’s relationship with Idris was by no means friendly, the fact that rumours of discord between them had never circulated left Jouslain with no choice but to offer a wry smile, thinking, “I suppose that means I lack personal virtue”.

“Princess Lydia, do you dislike Lord Idris?”

Jouslain posed this somewhat unfair counter-question. Princess Lydia’s reply was frank and clear:

“I do not like him.”

Having asserted this emphatically, Princess Lydia seemed to pause for a moment’s thought.

“I do not like him, but that is not Lord Idris’ fault; it is simply that I dislike him of my own accord. So, well, it may not be fair. But in any case, Lord Jouslain, I prefer you and Bar.”

“I am most honoured,” replied Jouslain with a serious expression.