Chapter 242

Marquis Lykeandros, having found the place where his daughter was staying, was taken aback to see the entire floor covered in dresses.

Red, cream, green, and purple… all in the latest fashion. Megara had ordered them, determined to capture Abelus’s heart. Even though the Marquisate—and Rebecca Shirley, Megara’s mother, once famed for her wealth—was now short on funds, he had continued to spend money on his daughter, unable to help but pity her.

He could still vividly recall Megara’s smiling face as she told him she liked them.

And yet, those costly dresses were now a mess, scattered across the floor. The Marquis stood blankly at the entrance, wondering what could have happened.

The room prepared for the Crown Prince’s mistress was small and received little sunlight, but gold gleamed in every corner, as if boasting of the Crown Prince’s favor. His eyes were dazzled, his mind unsteady, but then he spotted Megara—buried under clothes, crying.

“My dear… Meggie, what happened?”

The Marquis rushed over, pulling the dresses off her. When he saw his pretty daughter’s face ruined with tears, his heart broke, and he didn’t know what to do.

To be truthful, the Marquis had disliked his daughter becoming Abelus’s mistress from the beginning, and he still did. Even after Megara’s illegitimacy was revealed, he could have married her properly to a decent man and secured her happiness for the rest of her life. Instead, his daughter had made a rash, foolish choice.

It would have been better if Abelus had Princess Izet’s personality. No—better if he weren’t the Crown Prince at all, even with his current personality. Then his beautiful daughter wouldn’t be taking the blame for all the Crown Prince’s wrongdoings, nor would she be doing dangerous things just to keep his heart.

Megara didn’t tell her father much about what she was doing, but the Marquis could guess enough.

His daughter’s hand was involved in Princess Camille’s confinement.

The Princess was too dangerous. And yet her status was not something that could be cleanly erased to prevent future trouble. Having earned her resentment, Megara had no choice but to keep herself on top to survive.

The Marquis knew his daughter was clever, but her opponent was too vicious. At least it was fortunate that the Crown Prince wasn’t openly seeing other women besides Megara.

Despite his dissatisfaction, the Marquis still loved his daughter. If anything, he loved her more than before, because he pitied her. He was even planning to formally marry Rebecca Shirley soon, to remove the stigma of illegitimacy. His heart felt impatient, but the temple still refused to grant permission.

‘They think our family’s standing has fallen, so they’re testing me.’

And in truth, the Lykeandros Marquisate was not what it used to be.

Megara looked up at her father and sobbed.

“Hic, Father! Th-those… those things… hic, the school kids… hic, they don’t know gratitude!”

“School kids?”

That alone was enough for the Marquis to guess the situation. He had known a day like this would come eventually.

“I, hic, was so good to them! Please, Father—say something to Count Isalani! Th-that Alecto dared to… hic… humiliate me in public!”

Marquis Lykeandros knew Count Isalani’s daughter, Alecto, well. Hadn’t that child followed Megara around for quite some time? He’d heard she had no friends, so Megara was taking care of her—or so he had believed.

To turn arrogant now, after receiving such help, simply because Megara’s birth had been exposed. The Marquis felt deeply displeased with Alecto.

But even so, granting his daughter’s request was difficult.

For the same reason Megara—who would have already run to the Crown Prince—couldn’t do so.

“…That… I think it will be difficult. There are too few nobles offering soldiers right now. There’s too much antipathy toward this war. And funds are lacking.”

Things would improve when the taxes collected in the fall came in, but summer was not a good time for the Imperial Family, which had already used up its spare funds, to raise an army.

By the oath of loyalty between monarch and subject, subjects were required to support the monarch with troops when requested. But even when it was said to be “without conditions,” such a relationship could not hold unless the subject was rewarded—given a gift worth the effort of providing troops. Abelus was struggling even to pay for the soldiers he had already summoned.

And if nobles stopped offering soldiers voluntarily, he would have to scrape them together by offering money as bait. There was no need to unnecessarily provoke the nobles and create a situation where he would have to increase the price.

The Lykeandros Marquisate had a long history in military affairs, so the Marquis had a sharp sense for this. Under the current conditions, it would be difficult for the Imperial Family to stop Maindulante.

And furthermore—

“Father…!”

Megara, who didn’t understand the military situation but did know Abelus’s mood was poor right now, simply burst into louder tears.

The Marquis couldn’t bring himself to explain more to his daughter, who had trashed the room as though pretty dresses were meaningless before status.

So he only held her, swallowing the rest for now.

The truth that his long-time rivals, the Grünehals family, and their entrenched allies had conspired to never help the Crown Prince.

At least not while Megara remained by the Crown Prince’s side.

❖ ❖ ❖

Under the blue sky, silver blades flowed like a river.

From the tower of a castle with its gates tightly shut, the lord looked out—at the Maindulante army covering the fields before the gate.

‘Is it really this much…?’

The lord let out a sigh. So did the dignitaries gathered with him in the tower.

This small castle, located about five days south of the Tipian Marquesate, had fewer than a thousand hastily conscripted soldiers. The old castle walls were unlikely to last long—especially not against an army that looked elite even from afar.

For a long time, the lord couldn’t speak.

He couldn’t willingly surrender to Maindulante. If he did, the Imperial Family would not leave him alone afterward.

But right now—

What was he supposed to do with soldiers who would only die in vain?

Finally, the lord spoke.

“Defend thoroughly. If we hold out, the Imperial Family’s reinforcements will help us.”

Everyone knew that even he didn’t believe those words. By the time reinforcements set out, the battle would already be over.

With solemn—but reluctant—faces, they nodded.

And then, the very next moment—

“T-the castle gate is opening!”

The lord shouted.

Of course, the castle gate was not only sealed in preparation for the enemy, but reinforced with various mechanisms. Strict orders had been given to prevent anyone from approaching it without permission.

So why was the gate opening now?

And why did the timing look almost like welcome?

Spy. The word flashed through the lord’s mind.

But did that make sense?

Since war clouds gathered, every territory of the Bistor Empire had restricted the entry of strangers. So if there was a spy in this castle now, they must have infiltrated before that.

Then how long had the Grand Duke been preparing for this moment?

The river of silver blades flowed in majestically behind the black knight. Watching, the lord realized his worries were unnecessary.

No one needed to die in this battle.

Except perhaps the lord himself.

One-sided suppression could sometimes be eerily peaceful.

Before the sun set that day, the Maindulante army had claimed another victory.

❖ ❖ ❖

White curtains fluttered in the wind coming through the open window.

Seated in an old library chair in her bedroom, Nerys fiddled with the handle. When she injected magic into the spot she’d been told about in advance, there was a brief crackle—

Then Cledwyn’s voice came through.

“So suddenly?”

The chair in the secret space Nerys used to sneak into as a student had originally been made for the previous Grand Duke and Grand Duchess to speak when far apart.

Now it was used for Cledwyn—who had gone to the battlefield—and Nerys, who remained in White Swan Castle, to communicate.

The method was simple.

When Nerys stimulated the Magic Tool hidden in the chair handle with magic power, a Communication Device placed nearby received the signal, and another paired Communication Device emitted a blue light. Then Cledwyn, who had that device, could inject magic power to begin a conversation between the two of them. Contact was possible in the opposite direction as well.

It was simple and convenient, but if the other person wasn’t paying attention to the blue light, there was no way to contact them separately.

However, since his departure, there had never been a case where Cledwyn failed to receive Nerys’s call.

‘And it’s not just that.’

Cledwyn responded almost immediately whenever Nerys used the device—so quickly she sometimes wanted to ask if he truly wasn’t busy. Nerys smiled briefly and replied.

“It’s the same here. How was your day? Are you moving well? Any cases of soldiers getting sick, or supplies spoiling in the summer?”

“It’s natural. I’m the Grand Duchess. And you’re walking a difficult path. How are the soldiers of the Marquesate?”

The Maindulante army, which had swept south like a storm, was moving with some of the troops from the Tipian Marquesate. The Marquis was slowly beginning to understand that the Grand Ducal Family had occupied the Marquesate, and that the Imperial Family would not help him.

There was no time to wait for that realization to settle. Cledwyn was already extracting and using the Marquesate’s soldiers effectively.

“As you keep drawing soldiers from the lands you occupy, the scale will grow. The Imperial Shadow Force isn’t completely stupid, so they’ll definitely mix in spies among them. You know you have to be careful, right?”

“I want to say White Swan Castle can’t be hot, but it does feel strangely warm these days. The heat this year seems unusual, so be especially careful.”

“Okay. I love you.”

Cledwyn chuckled in satisfaction.

His sweet voice lowered gradually, filled with blatant seduction. Nerys covered her instantly heated face with both hands and pressed down hard.

“…I’m… having a hard time too. Being away from you…”

<I’m glad we feel the same way. Everything I see reminds me of you. Sometimes it’s hard to breathe because you’re not in my arms. When I fall asleep alone at night, it feels like I’m falling into hell. But when I open my eyes in the morning and see the sunlight, I feel a little better—because it resembles you.>

Was it acceptable for someone on the battlefield to be talking about such leisurely things? Nerys doubted it, but Cledwyn didn’t seem to think so at all. He exchanged a few more words in a clearly delighted voice, then ended the call as if reluctant.

Still sitting in the chair, Nerys looked up at the blue sky outside the window.

How far did that sky extend, in this vast world?

How far would it burn?

She had much to think about. She had to manage the Grand Duchy alone without her husband and provide rear support for the army. She also had to watch what was happening in the Imperial Family and protect her people.

Then, suddenly, drowsiness washed over her.

It seemed she had gone to bed late last night. Nerys tried to get up and go to work, but without realizing it, she fell asleep in the chair as she was.