Editing Rakuin no Monshou:Volume5 Chapter7 (section)

=== Part 2 ===

From the parlour of the women's quarters, even if Marilène hadn't been gazing towards the outside she would still have seen it. Several areas within the city were wrapped in the colour of flames but as they had been lit for the calculated purpose of luring Greygun's soldiers away, it was unlikely that there would be too much damage.
"Your Majesty," from the shadow of a pillar, a lady's maid had turned around. A group of several people had formed and they were looking enquiringly at the queen, their faces pale. Marilène smiled as ever.

"Please go," she said. "The frenzied soldiers might harm you too. Wait until the excitement dies down. Do not come near here for the time being, is that clear?"

"But..."

"Even if I flee, I will stand out wherever I am. Come now, we don't have time to discuss it. This is the last order you will receive from me. Go."

In a corner of the women's quarters, there was a secret passage that led out from the castle. Instead of using it herself, the queen gave priority to having her attendant ladies' maids leave.

They could already hear the rough voices of soldiers.

"Capture Marilène!"

"We'll hang that woman who sold her country time and time again."

Even upon hearing such horrifying shouts, Marilène's expression didn't change. She looked exactly as though she were about to face the new day as she did every morning, leisurely passing her time with a cup of the black tea she loved in her hand.


The strength of the released soldiers and people of Helio far exceeded the unity of the Red Hawks mercenaries. The few dozens who had first lit the fires and raised the riots had almost all been killed by the mercenaries who had quickly been dispatched to suppress them. After that however, the mostly uninjured mercenaries protecting the castle's surroundings had faltered.

''His Highness Prince Rogier Helio is alive''.

When the Helian soldiers who had invaded the city spread that information, it was as though they had tossed firewood onto the fire smouldering within the people. If Helio's royal family was restored, then they could once more return to the peaceful days they had known before. And if in order for that to happen some things had to be removed, they were prepared to do so with all their might and at the risk of their own lives.

Before long, the figure of a person appeared at the top of a tower within the castle.

The crowd murmured.

When that figure raised high the spear he held in his right hand, it marked the end of the long night as the light of dawn dimly appeared.

Lasvius.

Pierced at the tip of the spear held up by Helio's commander of the dragoons was Greygun's head.

In an instant, the road was filled with noise and cheers after which the mercenaries, who had lost their will to fight and who were scrambling to be the first to escape, were chased down and pelted with stones, those who lost their balance were straddled and beaten - it was a murderous one-sided retribution. The crowd's joy swelled but far from being appeased, the fire that smouldered within them burned even fiercer.

"Drag out that treacherous queen!"

"We'll cut her head off right here!"

Looking for a fresh victim, the crowd led the way into the women's quarters.

Meanwhile, Orba had descended the tower and was about to exit its hall. It went without saying that he had removed the Red Hawks helmet and replaced it with his usual mask. Those found by that seething, murderous crowd would probably be tortured to death without being able to utter a single excuse.

He had no choice but to ignore the populace's actions. He still had things he needed to do. Naturally Garda's forces were not in Taúlia and he had heard that they had gone to Cherik. Therefore, they had to organise the released soldiers as well as the main body of Lasvius' unit that would soon be arriving into reinforcements for Taùlia.

''Garda's army moved exactly as though they had predicted all of Taúlia's movements''. He shelved that mystery for now. As he was leaving the hall,

"You there," a deep voice hailed him. When he turned to look, Hardross Helio stood before him.

There was a soldier accompanying him on either side. Bodyguards directly attached to the royal family, no doubt. Lasvius' men must have secretly informed Hardross about the time of the uprising as they were fully armed and had their visors down.

"I came across you before in the audience hall. I thought you looked strange but you were one of Lasvius' subordinates disguised as a mercenary?"

"..."

Hardross had apparently mistaken Orba for one of the spies Lasvius had sent to Helio. As explaining things over would be bothersome, Orba just lowered his head and muttered "Yes".

"The plan for a series of fights was splendid. Is Rogier safe?"

"He is in good health."

"I see." The old man closed his eyes as though overcome by a flood of emotions but the next moment said something surprising:

"The merit for that goes to the queen."

"To... Lady Marilène?"

"It was Marilène who allowed that child to escape," the old man spoke in a subdued voice. When King Elargon had been slain in battle and Helio was in the midst of a civil war, Jallah had discovered Rogier hiding with his mother in an underground storehouse. Jallah was on the side of the rebellion but it was not in his character to take the initiative in the fighting. He had been half coerced by his comrades and, as a result of weighting his personal safety against his loyalty to Helio's royal family, he had joined them with his feet dragging.

And so, Marilène had approached Jallah. Earnestly begging him for protection, she had indirectly shared her wisdom with him.

"She is a clever woman," Hardross, the former king, smiled. "She probably used Jallah to inveigle herself near each of the rebels and lure them into destroying themselves over the crown."

It was Marilène who had allowed Rogier to escape. She had asked her ladies' maids to entrust him into the care of Lasvius, who still resisted and fought the rebels within the city.

"Afterwards, Jallah reaped the benefits of a war he didn't fight. Marilène planned to revive Helio by becoming his queen since he was easy to control."

Why was it that at a time like this, Hardross told the truth about the queen to someone like Orba? Orba couldn't understand it. Maybe anyone would have done. The old man had too much locked up inside him.

"My lord," Orba suddenly spoke after having listened in silence to the end of the story. He had been considering Marilène's situation.

"What?"

"Then Lady Marilène was protecting the country?"

"That is right."

"And she became Greygun's queen because having someone near him to temper his tyranny would prevent the people from suffering even more."

"Yes. Yes, that is also correct," the old man's voice had gradually become tinged with sadness. "We feigned to hate each other in order to encourage the rumour that the last direct member of the Helio royal bloodline still had considerable influence. Even when she wished me good health, it appeared like the wicked Marilène was being insincere. So that the people would welcome Rogier when he someday returned as a legitimate heir to Helio."

There probably hadn't been any time for Hardross and Marilène to agree to cooperate. Both had silently decided to stage their play. Because of that, Hardross had spent his days feeling vexed. It wasn't Marilène, Jallah or Greygun that he hated. What he hated was his own powerlessness which left him unable to protect the country except by pushing his son's wife into becoming a criminal.

"With the threat from the west drawing ever closer, she thought that we couldn't afford any more internal divisions and so set Jallah up as king. She thought that we couldn't give Garda's army the power to make every decision concerning Helio and so she made Greygun king. She is a clever woman. Too clever. If she had just been a little more foolish, if she had merely been beautiful, she would have been remembered as a queen who had tragically been toyed with by those in power."

The rumour that she had allied herself with Cherik to take over the country was untrue. Marilène had probably had doubts when Jallah happily hired Greygun, but suspecting that her older brother Yamka II was tied to Garda was surely something that she would never have imagined.

Outside, the noise was at its height. The soldiers and populace were headed towards the women's quarters. Watching the situation from the corner of his eye, Orba felt an urgent sense of restlessness.

"The queen is..."

"I know," Hardross interrupted him, "she will have predicted this. That once Rogier returned to Helio she would be executed as the queen who had betrayed her country. In that way, she will have protected the power of Helio's royal family. Such is the woman she is."

''Ridiculous''. The muscles in Orba's arms and shoulders stiffened as he tightly clenched his fists without realising he was doing it. Why would she go so far to protect Helio, to protect the royal family? Although she had worried for the country more than anyone else, she would be executed by the people and would forevermore be remembered in infamy.

Words came floating up from the depths of Orba's memories.

''We were –'' 

''Born into royalty. It is our duty to devote ourselves to the country's affairs''.

In Seirin Valley, that girl, Garbera's third princess Vileena Owell, had spoken those words to Orba who was pretending to be Gil Mephius.

''It is our duty to quell personal joy or personal will. It’s only to be expected from people who are praised for their noble blood''.

At that time, Orba had heard it only as the self-aggrandising of a person in power. Nothing but a way to justify the special privileges and luxurious existence of those who freely manipulated the lives and fates of the people.

And yet – there was one who was about to accomplish that duty. Even as she was being spat on by the people, even as the nobles reviled her as a temptress who sold out her own country, even as the soldiers drove her to the scaffold with their spears, Marilène would proudly embrace death.

And she would do so with her eyes wide open and a smile on her lips.

Why was it that for Orba, that image overlapped with that of a girl whose platinum hair flowed down her back? He was sure that had she have been in the same situation, that girl would have chosen that same path.

Orba remained standing as though at a complete loss. Staring at his own shadow as it stretched out from between the gap in the door, dyed in the colours of the morning light.