Difference between revisions of "Rakuin no Monshou:Volume1 Chapter5"
(Part 2 done) |
m (forgot the last sentence) |
||
Line 415: | Line 415: | ||
Oubary stared fixedly at the prince’s face from the side, and the prince fleetingly glanced his way. Instantly, the prince looked away again, but Oubary was startled to see the hostility in his eyes. He could’ve been mistaken. However, Oubary was having cold sweat under his clothes. |
Oubary stared fixedly at the prince’s face from the side, and the prince fleetingly glanced his way. Instantly, the prince looked away again, but Oubary was startled to see the hostility in his eyes. He could’ve been mistaken. However, Oubary was having cold sweat under his clothes. |
||
+ | As the silence continued, from far away, the noise of the party and sound of flutes at the castle’s reception hall, was riding in with the evening breeze. |
||
=== Part 3 === |
=== Part 3 === |
Revision as of 16:41, 13 August 2013
Status: Incomplete
73% completed (estimated)
Chapter 5: Princess Vileena
Part 1
Zaim was known for being an impregnable fortress. To the north, steep cliffs touched the border of Ende, and to the south an unobstructed view of plains was spread out. If Mephius actually wanted to cross the border and invade, Zaim Fortress was considered to be its biggest hurdle.
Ryucown had made it surrender in the blink of an eye and turned it into his own stronghold. It could be he had the help of traitors, but it could also be that the people at Zaim Fortress never intended to turn their blades toward Ryucown, because he was a Garberan to begin with.
And besides…
Maybe he secretly got assistance from the Principality of Ende.
This assumption was shared by both Mephius and Garbera. If not, he wouldn’t last on any supplies like food, water, and ammunition. And for Ende, right now, they’d conveniently split the Garberan territory in two. In that way, it was good that Ryucown’s tactics hadn’t forcibly placed neighbouring villages under his control, or he would’ve received the enmity of its people.
“Our current Garbera has lost sight of adhering to pride above all!” Ryucown shouted with a loud voice. “Even if we bear the shame of a traitor for the moment, we inherit Garbera’s true pride. Disloyalty shames a knight, but we cannot stay devoted to obeying any senseless ruler. We must consider once again for what cause we should spill our blue blood. Do not mind bearing shame. We will open this fort’s gates and welcome all true knights that dedicate their bodies only for true loyalty.”
Ryucown cut off the heads of all the messengers, not even depending on the counsel from his own home country Garbera. And not only that. He also conducted a surprise attack with his airship on an advance party marching to recapture the fort, before taking flight again.
Within the Garberan royal court, it was the firm opinion that they should quickly send in a whole army to make Zaim surrender in order to protect the royal family’s dignity. But what they feared most of all was that Ende would participate in the war.
At the moment they were still keeping quiet, but if the Principality of Ende publicly admitted to having a collaborative relationship with Ryucown, it was feared Zaim Fortress would become a stronghold for Ende when they challenged Garbera. And with Garbera throwing aside an alliance with them, Ende also had a just cause to do so.
Hence, Garbera had no qualms against Mephius’s request.
Namely, they allowed the Mephian army to cross the Garbera’s national border, making it possible for them to line up formations and attack Zaim Fortress from the west .
It was about a week after the surprise attack at Seirin Valley.
As time went flying by, the situation was also littered with various apprehensions. The Mephian group led by Prince Gil immediately started heading for Idoro. It lay closest to the borders of Ende and Garbera, and was a fortress city that had often been at the forefront during the war with Garbera.
A group of sword slaves from the Tarkas Group was also forced to travel along the journey. Their weapons and dragons confiscated, and moving at a distance while being surrounded by military guards, they were no doubt suffering from stress regarding the dispiriting anxiety for their future. However, thanks to Gowen’s skilfulness, they quietly obeyed for the time being.
Although it might have been the same day-to-day feeling for those living under Tarkas, the situation was more complicated than that because of the Garberran party. In any case, because the ceremony had been interrupted, the marriage between Prince Gil and Princess Vileena had not been concluded. However, wilfully going back home at this point would be a disgrace for the both of them.
“I will go to Idoro as well,” Vileena had told her own country’s delegation, and had gone travelling along to Idoro with Theresia. For the Mephian side it also gave them the impression they were keeping her as a hostage, but, naturally, Vileena herself had already taken that all into account.
The army moved while the goods were carried by dragon carts. The cavalry, and the dragonriders atop the small-sized dragons guarded all directions, while in the centre, surrounded by the soldiers on foot, the imperial and royal family members moved in coaches.
“I suppose this will be Prince Gil’s first battle,” Orba said, with Fedom siting opposite him inside the coach.
“But am I not the one behind the scenes? Aren’t you being much too overprotective, no matter how you look at it?”
“Shut it,” Fedom called back, irritated. “There’s no need for someone like you to learn the imperial family’s methods of raising a good emperor. You should just do as you’re told.”
“So I’m to command when I’m told, order friends to die when I’m told, and kill the enemy when I’m told?”
“That would be splendid.”
Orba, no less irritated, still felt the traces from his quarrel with Vileena.
“Now stop talking. We don’t know who could be listening.”
And that was the ulterior motive Fedom had. Originally, the written letters had urged him to return to his homeland, Birac. Simon alone had been assigned to be the prince’s support. However, Simon knew the prince’s nature very well. So, because he suspected there were concerns about the prince being a fake at the current campaign, other ‘support’ was necessary.
At most…
If the prince did do an outstanding job here, this time nobles would turn up believing the prince held unifying qualities. If Fedom was able to gather up those people and have them back the prince, it might be possible to create a completely new political power in the next era. Besides, the Prince Gil in question was the same as a puppet that did anything Fedom told him to. On behalf of the corrupted imperial family, he himself could advocate supremacy in these current troubles times – just thinking of it, made Fedom’s heart pound with boyish excitement as blood rushed to his head.
Meanwhile,
“Prince.”
Simon Rodloom, who called from outside of the coach, naturally had his misgivings.
“What is it?” Fedom’s face appeared instead.
Simon, who had gone to the battlefield himself in his younger days, was, to be expected, skilful with handling his horse. Matching the coach’s speed, he tried to peek inside. The prince was resting his cheek against the window on the opposite side.
“These past few days, I’ve hardly seen your face. Although I do hope you’re not doing that to bear the shock received from what happened at Seirin Valley. It might also place a gap on the tale of your first battle. So—”
“The prince is in good health,” Fedom said smiling. “Even now, we were exchanging several views and opinions concerning the capture of Zaim Fortress. Later on, we’d also like to listen to your views on the matter, Master Simon. Oh… Your Highness, is it a little too bright? Please forgive me.”
Fedom acted as if the prince had talked to him and quickly closed the carriage’s curtains.
That is strange.
Spurring on his horse, Simon rubbed his chin. Fedom’s sudden intimacy and the prince’s change of heart in these last few days… It wouldn’t be such a miracle if the prince he knew so well, experiencing such an uproar during the ceremony, had lost himself amongst the public. However, from what he’d heard, it seemed the prince had given orders to the knights, and held the enemy at bay before they could kidnap Vileena. Although, as a substitute guardian, he was supposed to be pleased with the prince’s growth, this was far from being human, and he couldn’t simply accept it.
Be that as it may, I haven’t seen the boy for three days.
And, at a distance of fifty metres behind, Vileena and Thersia were rocking about in a similarly heavily escorted coach.
The whole time, Vileena had been silent. She was lost in thought, as she looked out at the scenery flying by outside the window. Theresia had her eyes fixed on the side of her mistress’ face.
At a glance, she was the image of a beautiful girl in her puberty and whatnot, even if she was now grown up, but it was apparent to anyone who so much as turned around that she was worriedly longing for something precious to her. The eyelashes covering her eyes were dark, and the bridge of her nose was a thin line. Her petal-like lips were slightly wet, and her skin nearly crystalline white.
In case an honest boy around the same age saw the girl staring off into the distance from her carriage’s window, on his way home from work on the farm, he’d be inexplicably bound only with a single glance. But looking at himself, after having gone through some hundred nights passionately yearning for her despite the issue of social differences, he would eventually marry some village girl and get children. But even if he’d be reading a book by the fireplace surrounded by grandchildren, undoubtedly, he would never be able to forget that one pubertal afterimage of only a single glance until the day he died…
Theresia, quite touched by her own fabrications, gently wiped away a tear with her hand. This was youth. And, when a voice called out “Theresia”, she looked up as if nothing had happened.
“Yes, what is it, your highness?”
“Theresia, how old are you now?”
“Well… when you reach the latter half of your forties, you eventually stop counting. Then it’s normal to look forward to continue on at that age forever.”
“I see,” Vileena said, as she rested her chin in her hand. “That’s quite convenient.”
“Of course, in the meantime, there were various encounters and farewells. Also many men. Speaking about love, there have also been several marriage proposals.”
“I would love to hear about that someday,” Vileena said with a little smile.
“Don’t say someday, but right now. It’s obvious your highness can use this little as a reference.”
“I didn’t say I wanted to hear such things. Cease your suspicious behaviour.”
With an angry frown, Vileena turned away.
Oh my…
Although Theresia thought she was cute, that naturally didn’t come out of her mouth. But it was worth teasing her. So, because she would otherwise be bored daydreaming again, her slightly mischievous side came to surface.
“This Prince Gil has one utterly curious side to him, doesn’t he?” Theresia said, feigning ignorance. She didn’t seem to notice Vileena glaring her way, either.
“I really haven’t decided what to think of him,” she continued. “Strangely enough, he has the attitude of someone who knows the world, but unbecoming of royal family he – how to say this correctly – sometimes still seems to speak like a child. Oddly, it’s something I worry about. Whether or not he will become a good husband, I’m certain he’s not the type that would fit into the Garberan court, right?”
“I guess he’s just a fool. Judging from all the rumours I’ve heard, it’s not such a big surprise,” Vileena said curtly. “As an enemy, he’s manageable. But it’s true I have to know a lot more details. They say that, in a battle, intelligence is everything, or so grandfather told me.”
“A battle?”
“Yes, a battle so that no more blood will be shed.”
In the days after their arrival at Idoro, Orba did not change for the better. There was hardly anything he could do until the reinforcements arrived from the capital. With his own country still negotiating with the Garberan side, no more than coming to conclude matters, there was nothing he could decide on without permission.
The fortress of Idoro was known to be strong, although it was a little less daunting than Zaim. The ramparts surrounding the urban areas around the fort were laid out in several layers, making it look like a maze. Walking around there in a sightseeing mood, Orba currently had to bring a lot of people along with him.
With his head thinking about the campaign, he was reminded of the skirmishes between the groups he experienced during his childhood, and that he had no more than the knowledge gained from things like hero stories. In any case, even though Orba had to continue being a body double, not for Mephius’ or the crown prince’s sake, but for his own sake, the state of both his head and feet were truly unsteady.
There were also other worries.
One evening, when he walked through the city, he saw that a crowd had formed. On the other side, sword-slaves were being made to walk, hauled off by around ten guardsmen. Their destination was Idoro’s detention facilities.
Despite Ryucown’s treason having come to the surface, and having cleared away the doubts that they were directly involved in the event, this was no excuse for Tarkas having been used for the prince’s assassination, and it seemed to have taken form in having the ownership of his slaves taken away. To make matters worse, the lord of Idoro was known to be the possessor of an extremely cruel disposition toward slaves.
“Lately there’s been rumours that, in order to raise the troop’s morale, all slaves are going to have their heads cut off in front of the soldiers,” Dinn further explained, shuddering.
The gladiators weren’t close friends. On the contrary, even though they’d shared their meals, they also had the kind of relationship that there would be no doubt or hesitation if they were instructed to kill each other on the next day.
But foremost, Orba’s anger was at the nobles who controlled lives and destinies as they wished, so that they truly were not treated the same as the people surrounding them.
“Personal guards under direct command?”
Orba had heard about it at the morning of their third day stay. Dinn had carelessly slipped his tongue while he was helping out with breakfast.
The imperial family, who were authorized to command the army, were able to directly choose their personal guard. The possibility to be chosen as part of the imperial guard was popular among the sons of nobles, with the exception of the eldest sons who would have lose their right of inheritance, but it was also possible to choose people not from such a status, and even give them the position of officer. Prince Gil was given that authority at the age of fifteen, but Dinn said he had not specially employed it.
That evening, Orba left for the detention camp, passing many staircases, for the multiplexed structural arrangement of this fortress was made so to keep the whole of public eye at a distance. A hundred gladiators were tucked away in a cramped room. They looked left and right in confusion at the prince’s sudden appearance, which he thought wouldn’t be so strange if Kain hadn’t been working on an escape plan for the night, and laughed inwardly. Even now, he was cunningly working with dexterous fingers, attempting to escape.
“What!? Are you serious, Orba!?”
Gowen unintentionally raised his voice, before Shique blocked his mouth.
“Yeah, I’m serious.”
“What made you think of something so brash?” Shique, as expected of him, spoke in a hushed voice, but his face looked shocked. “If this is true, don’t you think the people around you will be more suspicious of your true identity.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve been collecting information about the prince. He’s just a huge idiot, and doesn’t even listen to other people’s advice. Actually, this is just the kind of thing such a dim-witted prince would do. I’m thrilled you want to save yourselves, but I’d like to make the gladiators my own personal guards.”
Because the investigation was still going on, Tarkas himself was left in the building, but all of the remaining gladiators were made into Gil Mephius’ personal guards. The company-employed blacksmith who carried out the armour’s repairs, and the girl entrusted in taking care of the dragons, Hou Ran, were also granted the status of Imperial Guard.
One official paper, marked with a sign in the prince’s handwriting, as he was taught by Dinn in these past few days, fully sufficed. When Fedom found out afterwards, he was obviously in a fit of anger. However, Orba made a face as if to say ‘is something the matter?’.
“Well, now I’ve already done it. When the real prince replaces me in the future, he can undo it or expel them if he wants to. Until then – let’s see – we’re okay on horses and dragons, but could you prepare weapons and armour for them? The ones from the company are all just second-hands. I also want several guns exclusive to the Imperial Guard.”
“Bastard! Mind you – I will remember all of this! Don’t do any more unnecessary things. You can’t even breathe freely without having my direct permission. Don’t forget that your life fully rests on how I feel about you.”
“That feeling’s mutual.”
“What did you say!?”
Despite Dinn anxiously fidgeting around between the two of them, Orba gave Fedom a sharp look.
“You should’ve understood that, right? But fine… I also don’t want to drive myself into a corner any more than necessary. I’ll leave my selfishness up to this extent. Instead, I’ll ask you for the equipment.”
“You mongrel…”
Fedom’s anger, seemingly about to faint anytime soon, also directing his glare at Dinn, and Orba was about to dismiss the grand noble from his room.
“For tomorrow, I’ll do anything you say even if it’s a depressing play. If I truly get carried away and do whatever I want before the first battle, you can give me any scolding you want. So, scoot, scoot! You’re a busy man, aren’t you?”
Interesting…
After driving Fedom out, with now Dinn’s scolding going in one ear and out the other, Orba had this thought for the first time since coming into this situation.
In any case, he was the crown prince. While there were many inconveniences, as a commoner he could act as he pleased and do what he liked. Placing gladiators directly under his control as soldiers for instance, although looking back, he couldn’t honestly say that he’d saved from the nobles. But there was also his intention in wanting to know how much was he able to do, and for how long his self-proclaimed owner, Fedom, would permit this pet dog’s ‘biting habits’.
Even if I find out, I suppose I should be a little bit more careful.
If Fedom directly saw Orba as a dangerous person, he would probably lose all of this small freedom he currently had. Perhaps even his life. And if that was over, there would’ve been no use to playing those antics.
Two days later, the expeditionary forces arrived from the capital. It had been decided Prince Gil would lead the troops.
Two dragonstone air carriers, 50 dragoons, 150 horsemen, and 500 foot soldiers – a considerable amount to be entrusted to a supreme commander on his first campaign.
The populace packed together at the main street as the troops came striding in, and Orba was looking down at them from the castle balcony. As the airships flew in the sky, the clattering of armour sounded, and a forest of spears and rifles formed in a line, it felt exactly like a scene from the historical novels or heroic tales he’d feasted on during his childhood.
Entranced by that gallant display, Orba’s eyes were gleaming like that of a boy. If seen by his companions from his time as a gladiator, he was certain that they wouldn’t be able to believe he was the same person, and not just because he no longer had a mask.
After that, doing as Fedom told him to, Orba went out to meet them at the castle square. But when his eyes made contact with the flagship’s captain, who had become a great general of long service, at the centre of his troops, the joy and excitement from his childhood vanished at once.
Part 2
This was all too unexpected.
Beyond unexpected, he was late in noticing this was the scene that he’d been waiting for all this time.
Clad in simple black armour, standing with his heels together in front of the ‘prince’, the man bowing before him had a characteristic kind of smile that could be taken as arrogance.
That majestic air he had still remained the same as before. Back then, he’d ordered to ‘set fire to the lot’ from horseback.
Oubary…
With all his nerves on edge, a wave of heat ran through his body. His throat was dry, and he felt dizzy.
At the same time, all kinds of future possibilities came to mind. Immediately leap at this man and strangle his neck with his bare hands, stab him with his sword, shoot a bullet through his head, or interrogate him about Alice’s, his mother’s, or his brother’s whereabouts – every temptation was twirling through his mind with the same intensity, stirring up, and Orba was thrown away by all of its strength.
But now… as Prince Gil Mephius, instead of choosing such a direct approach without regard to his future, it should be possible to create other options. A crueller, more striking, and more tragic way of chasing down this man.
Orba, standing upright, hardly heard the other person’s greetings. Fedom accepted the greetings on his behalf. When he was informed that there was a party being arranged to feed their courage in the castle hall, Oubary adjutant replied.
“Well, wouldn’t it be as easy to stretch the soldiers’ feathers even when we’re not there? I would like you to immediately hear us out in a war council. There is also a message from His Majesty, Emperor Guhl.”
“Ahh yes, I understand.”
Next to him, cheerfully smiling, Oubary gave the ‘prince’ his greetings.
“It has been a long time, Your Highness. And it is finally the prince’s first campaign. The unworthy me, Oubary, has the privilege to be of your assistance. If nothing more, I will make sure to decorate your first battle with victory.”
For a short while, Orba didn’t say a thing and stared at Oubary’s spread purple lips.
“Yeah…” he said, nodding. “I’ll leave it to you.”
Oubary Bilan, aged 44, was a strong general who had rushed out into the battlefield against Garbera many times over. He had once assumed responsibility of guarding Apta Fortress, but when the Garberran army cut through his forces and started besieging the fortress, he’d immediately pulled back his troops by his own country’s demands. They wanted to cut the Garberan armies in two – namely, get rid of Apta in the early stages, and cross over the border in one sweep where they raided a Garberran strike force prepared to attack Idoro.
This decoy strategy became a similar retaliation strike for Garbera, and Mephius lost part of its southern territory, but it had brought a lot of damage on Garbera in return.
After that, he’d continued at the frontlines, and this time he’d been ordered to accompany the prince on his first campaign.
“So now I have to become this kid’s babysitter?”
Oubary had sullenly spoken those words over his shoulder when he’d received his orders. Although he bragged about being better in fights than anyone else in Mephius, in reality he’d mostly survived by taking the leftover fights.[1]
Above that, he was also heavily opposed to the peace with Garbera. He was not the kind of man with the guts to openly speak against the emperor, but, for someone who’d been standing on the battlefield since the beginning of this ten-year-war, his irritation for putting an end to it with such halfway measures was all the worse.
He was as much as a reverse rebel.
“It should’ve been left as it was. No, cooperating with these rebels instead and plunging Garbera into a long period of mayhem would’ve been even better. If that was the case, we could’ve increased our military strength and taken over the Garberan capital.”
Although he spoke about such fabrications with resourceful families, as he soon learned of the incident at Seirin Valley, it had gradually changed Oubary’s way of thinking. The scale of the fight was never all that big, but this would no doubt define the positions between the three countries for future relationships.
Even I’m not a man who can choose his future by himself.
He had his own ambitions. After the peace talks, a letter directed to him personally had arrived from none other than of the biggest peace opposition in Garbera. Could it have been proof that they were afraid of his name and strength? He could make even more a name of himself, if he would broaden his future course.
On top of that, Oubary also knew the crown prince Gil Mephius’ personality well. He would be headed for a glorious first campaign – after all, that prince wouldn’t be able to accomplish anything by himself. He planned to take away his full authority.
“Ahh, but…” he joked, drinking wine together with his subordinated before leaving the capital. “I will have to make it look like it’s all the prince’s doing. It’ll be troublesome in the future, if I get under his skin.”
That night, a war council was held, and it was proceeding at Oubary’s pace, just as he had intended.
At first, his adjutant announced the results of the conference with Garbera, which he’d brought from the capital. It was decided that they attack the fortress on both sides, where Mephius would advance from the west, and Garbera from the right.
“Does it say anything about sending scouts to Ende?”Simon remarked on Mephius’ marching route along the border of Ende.
If it turned out that Rycown and Ende were having a cooperative relationship, there was the danger that the Mephian army would be the first to receive a surprise attack.
“Although we more than stand out, Ende will not likely rally that easily. But even if that happens they can be expecting a pincer attack in turn.”
“In this case, we can’t expect to rely on even the diplomatic skills our country,” Fedom said, looking out over a map of the surrounding area spread on the desk. “It might be an idea to send an envoy during the march, in the crown prince’s name.”
“Yes, just to be sure. We can also help by pulling out Idoro’s defence force and have them ensure the line of supplies,” the Lord of Idoro, Julius, agreed to Simon’s appeal.
While the unit’s organization and the talks of deployment started, Oubary fleetingly looked over at the prince. Ever since the war council commenced, he hadn’t spoken a word, but simply had his arms folded, staring ahead of him.
It was obvious from that start that there wasn’t anything he could do, and Oubary secretly smiled inside.
“Do you agree with this, your highness?”
He tried to force him to join the talk. The prince instantly looked his way, but immediately averted his gaze and replied,
“Yeah.”
After that, he continued to say nothing more. All of the commanding officers present at the war council exchanged glances.
Keep up that attitude, your imperial highness…
Crossing both arms, which were not covered by his leather undershirt, Oubary was barely able to suppress the smile that almost came to the surface.
You should just leave everything to Oubary after this. Well, although at most, getting a ‘fair achievement for the prince’ will rattle my brains a little. I think it will be a difficult battle not to lose a single soldier.
While Prince Gil was being exposed to the older man’s gaze, he – Orba – was digging his nails into his arms.
A little while ago, it had taken him full concentration, and great effort not to look at Oubary. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to stay calm if he looked at his face right now. He had almost lost his self-control just by hearing his voice. Above all, this small room was the worst. Even if he averted his eyes, the murmurs and every breath Oubary took reached Orba’s ears.
His heart had been jumping around so much that it hurt, and his blood seemed to be rushing to every corner of his body, more than it should be able to. They were preparing for a confrontation. His entire body was giving him the sign to go. His arms, legs, and every fibre of his muscles that he’d been training for a period of two years were telling him to kill this bastard right now.
The colour of flames, the acrid smoke, Alice being taken away, and the charred bodies of the villagers were recurring in his head. And his brother Roan, who smiled whenever he called out his name.
Oubary had ditched his brother, who shouldn’t have had to pick up a sword and gone into battle for his family’s sake in the first place. And the careless survivor, Orba, was now near him. The survivor of that smoking village back then, who hadn’t for one in a thousand thoughts imagined to have him this close within reach!
Was there really a reason to show this guy any sympathy?
Was there any reason for showing him mercy and having him live longer for even one second?
Kill him.
There was a whispering voice in the back of his mind. It quickly turned into a shout, and before long it became a chorus of voices with a thunderous tempo and rhythm.
Kill him.
You can kill him now – you can kill him!
Now! Kill him!!
That instant, Orba stood up from his seat.
The discussion stopped, and everyone fixed their eyes on him.
Then, there was a knock on the door.
“…What?” Orba asked in response.
He had just been about to leave the room. If he would stay hear any longer, he feared he would no longer be able to restrain himself. However, when he heard a voice telling him Princess Vileena was in the next room, again in response, he was forced to stand his ground.
“Oh, what business does a Garberan princess have in a war council?” Oubary said, deliberately sounding denigrating. Then he jokingly added, “Could it be she’s gotten worried that we might be bullying her husband? Well, my image isn’t very good. I haven’t even once left a good first impression on any woman I’ve met.”
A few people laughed in response.
“Let her go back,” Fedom said.
“No,” Simon pitched in. “She’s a key ally. We can’t ignore her. Let her in. Do you mind, prince?”
Orba didn’t have a reason or the willpower to refuse. So, he nodded and sat back down.
Before long, Vileena came in by herself. At a place for men, and a place to speak of war, there was a strange feeling of discomfort about a princess’s interference. Whether or not she was aware of it, Vileena’s innocent, beautiful features were radiating the colour of determination, like that one day.
“People of Mephius. First of all, please forgive a woman’s impertinent words at the place of a war council. Such a thing is exceptional in Garbera as well. With this, I – Vileena Owell – bare shame upon myself.”
Several minutes after, despite their glaring eyes, the military officers were all insincerely putting her at ease and commenting about how her enthusiastic attitude received praise.
The Princess of Garbera, wanting to avoid a solution by military means, insisted on letting her persuade Ryucown by herself. If it came to a head-on collision, no matter which camp had the advantage, Garberan lands would burn and its people die. However, Ryucown was a patriotic knight who was concerned about Garbera’s future. That belief had gone too far this time and had caused such an act of folly. Thus, the young princess wielded in her fervent speech that they should turn him back to his righteous self.
“Of course, the crime of aiming for the life of the Gracious Heir to the Mephius Empire’s throne is severe. I am willing to seek the Mephius’ support on how to deal with the ringleaders, starting with Ryucown. I am definitely aware this is not matter for Garbera alone. Therefore…”
“Right now, that is for talks after the war,” the winged dragon officer, Rogue Saian, cut in.
Although the others sent reproachful looks his way as he stood up, it was obvious they were all cheering him on in their hearts.
“This is our retaliation for the attack on our imperial family. It’s been clear from the beginning that this was never a matter for Garbera alone!”
As the most established among Mephius’ twelve generals, even Oubary sometimes came to him for instructions or to ask for advice. It wasn’t clear if he was older or younger than Gowen – even at a war council, he was fully clad in the heavyset armour of his ancestors. It looked like he had the spirit of a true warrior at heart.
Vileena, facing him, hardly knew a thing about war, and no matter how much her young zeal burned, she would be highly judged for being a princess of her age. Her mouth was already filled with words to bring forth an immediate rebuttal.
But the other generals, stirred up by the veteran’s spirit, spoke up instead.
“Garbera may see the Mephian army marching into their lands to quell Ryucown’s rebellion as quite worrying, but we’re not brigands. We’re not like thieves that take advantage of a fire and lay waste to Garberan lands.”
“Apart from that, Garbera itself has given our advance their consent. It’s best if we don’t hinder the organisation between countries just from a single princess’ ideas.”
“T-That’s,” Vileena said, bending forward. “At least let me have the privilege of accompanying this campaign. I also don’t think I can do this alone. However, it’s impossible for me to stand by and keep quiet in a quarrel between my own kinsmen.”
The soldiers and senior statesmen again exchanged glances.
Oh dear – this princess was proving to be most troublesome.
“There’s no reason to stand by and keep quiet, Princess Vileena, as your father has requested our cooperation.”
“Besides,” Oubary said, smoothing things over. “For our country, the princess still holds the importance of being in preparation for marrying the prince. We can’t very well do something like taking you along to the battlefield.”
Vileena lowered her head. Orba remembered that expression where she tightly bit her lip. For a woman as smart as her, she ought to be heavily aware of how her appearance and intervention at a war council was considered a nuisance. And yet, she couldn’t keep quiet. She still wasn’t held back.
Her royal duties…
The words Vileena had spoken were brought back in his mind. Something unwavering and unshakable – not for him, but rather for Vileena – seemed to be hidden in those words. And at the same time, for each and every human, to know what kind of person you really are was too difficult a question for only one person to hold. Not knowing what to do with those feelings in his heart, he thought back on that time when he looked up at the night sky with his brother Roan.
Very well, then. Your beliefs – let me test them out.
“So, you can leave.”
“Please wait and have trust in your father, and your future husband.”
“Wait. Everyone, please—” Vileena brought herself forward even more.
It was as if she still not understand, the indifferent, fed-up mood that hung in the air, when,
“Let’s have the princess accompany us,” he said.
Everyone turned to stare at the prince looking as if they’d just suddenly been struck by an arrow. Some of them looked amazed, wondering whether they should be the ones to first open their mouths.
“Your Highness,” Oubary said after some time, showing quite a controlling presence, and a slightly chiding smile. “I’m sure that, if she’s at your side, you will have the ferocity of a lion on the battlefield. But, although you may win the princess’s heart, the battlefield has its ironbound rules. I beg of you, do not act rashly. How about choosing a more suitable place for your honeymoon later?”
His words invited some unintentional smiles from the senior statesmen.
“Let’s have Princess Vileena as our standard-bearer.”
They once again looked the prince’s way. He had his arms crossed and was staring ahead, just like before.
“Many Garberan soldiers are probably as anxious as the princess about the coming battle. I don’t believe it’s good if they’re having doubts. There are also uncertainties on our side on whether or not this cooperation will work out.”
“……”
“If we have Princess Vileena as our standard-bearer among them, it will carry the same meaning for both the armies of Mephius and Garbera. Ryucown himself might agree on a assembly with Princess Vileena, but if he doesn’t comply it means he’s nothing more than a mere rebel. Thus, it will also clear away all doubts the Garberan army may have about this battle if we eventually force Ryucown to surrender his forces in a righteous way.”
Including Vileena, nobody was able to utter a sound.
Oubary stared fixedly at the prince’s face from the side, and the prince fleetingly glanced his way. Instantly, the prince looked away again, but Oubary was startled to see the hostility in his eyes. He could’ve been mistaken. However, Oubary was having cold sweat under his clothes.
As the silence continued, from far away, the noise of the party and sound of flutes at the castle’s reception hall, was riding in with the evening breeze.
Part 3
References and Translation Notes
- ↑ Actually: 勝ち残り- it’s a term for someone who wins by laying low and then take the finishing blow when necessary, like a kill-stealer.
Back to Chapter 4 | Return to Main Page | Forward to Chapter 6 |