Chapter 6: The Queen’s Navy

A week later, at Fort Volks—

Once he’d finished his lunch, Regis made for the command room, a bundle of papers under his arm. The door was already half-open, and he could hear a cutesy hum coming from inside.

“Hmm~♪ Hm, hmm~♪”

When he peeked inside, a maid with hazel eyes and brown hair bundled behind her head was wiping the command room table. She twirled in a circle as she sang to herself; as usual, she seemed to be enjoying her cleaning. It was rather hard to find the right moment to interrupt her.

“......”

“Mmm~♪ Hm-hmm~♪ La, lalalaaa~♪ Day by day, I clean and sweep~♪ While Mr. Regis likes to peep~♪”

“Hey! If you’d already noticed me, you could have said something.”

“Oh, why if it isn’t Mr. Regis. Good day to you.”

“...Why are you acting as if you only just noticed me?”

“Isn’t your meeting scheduled for a little later on?”

“It is, but I thought I should get the documents in order beforehand. If I drag the report on too long, Sir Jerome will become irritable and Altina will probably fall asleep...”

“My, my... What enthusiastic workers we have.”

“I’ll say.”

“Then is there really any point in you making a report at all?”

“...Please, don’t... Just don’t. I feel like something precious inside of me almost collapsed.” He leaned his elbows on the table to prop himself up and held his palms over his eyes.

Meanwhile, Clarisse was chuckling away to herself. “There’s no need to worry, Mr. Regis. Believe it or not, the princess is a very keen listener.”

“You think so?”

“I do. Whenever I bring her the menu, she listens with extra care to each and every item I read out.”

“...I guess that makes sense. It’s important to pay attention to what you eat.”

“Then may I assume you are taking care to eat properly as well, Mr. Regis?”

“Of course. I, uh...” Just as he was about to answer, Regis realized he couldn’t even remember what he had eaten for breakfast. These days, he was so caught up in his reading and his work that he was simply cramming whatever food was brought out to him into his mouth.

“...Sorry. I should stop taking my meals for granted.”

“Fufu. It doesn’t bother me. Though, on a more important note, I heard something nice from the princess...”

“What was that?”

“That you like older women.”

“Oh... That.”

Regis was already used to this from Clarisse; he had expected her to bring it up eventually. Though, she looked rather unsatisfied.

“You’re unfazed.”

“I’m a grown-up. I can’t go losing my head over every little remark you make... What you’re referring to was just Mrs. Elenore teasing me. Besides, she already has three husbands, you know.”

“And yet she still kissed you?”

“I’m telling you, that was just a joke. She was teasing me.”

“I see, I see.” Clarisse nodded. Did she finally follow? Regis felt relieved that the misunderstanding had finally been resolved.

“So what you’re saying is, I can kiss you too as long as it’s a joke.”

“Eh?”

Clarisse reached out her hand and stroked Regis’s cheek.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the princess knows it was just a joke.”

“W-Wait, no. That’s... That’s not something you should do as a joke.”

“Oh dear... Then should I do it seriously?”

“Eeh!? Wh-What are you saying?”

Regis met Clarisse’s gaze. Her hazel eyes were close enough that he could see his own reflection in them.

She really is quite pretty...

Her breath brushed his cheek as her lips leaked a heated voice. “...Are you sure about this, Mr. Regis? Have you made up your mind?”

“...Um, Ms. Clarisse... You almost make it sound like you’d want to kiss someone like me.”

“Do you really need me to say it...?”

Regis fell into deep thought, once again scanning over the bookshelves in his mind as he searched for an appropriate answer.

“If you’re doing this as a joke, then I think you’re seriously undervaluing what is a very intimate display of affection.”

“And if I’m being serious?”

“...If you’re being serious, then I think you’re seriously undervaluing yourself. Clarisse, you’re a beautiful young woman; you should find yourself someone you can really entrust your future to.”

Clarisse frowned. Had he angered her with what was practically a lecture? Regis continued in a desperate attempt to remedy the situation.

“...Well, you see, I’ve got no future prospects, so I wouldn’t be a very appealing option... I’m not strong, nor do I have money, and I can’t ride a horse—”

“Good grief. You really are such a Regis.”

“...Pardon?”

Her cold fingertip ran down his cheek and brushed his lips, sending an icy shiver down his spine.

“If you’ll let me have a word, Mr. Regis... You’re not someone who would treat a woman as livestock or a possession, but also you wouldn’t become too reliant on her either. When you’re in a bad mood, you wouldn’t take your anger out on her, and you wouldn’t drink yourself silly and get violent.”

“Yeah, I get the feeling my sister did all that...”

“You must have had quite the teacher. Though not in a good sense.”

“Hahahah... Well, she’s still the person who raised me. I’m grateful for everything she’s done for me.”

Though it was definitely his sister’s fault that he was no good with older women.

“The Belgarian Empire is a military state, so intellectual men such as yourself are rare,” Clarisse whispered, caressing his ear as she spoke. It tickled.

“Yeah, I know... I’m aware that I’m a hopeless, weak-armed man. There’s no need for you to spell it out.”

Clarisse’s head suddenly slumped down, powerless and defeated.

Huh? Regis cocked his head to the side in confusion. An awkward silence fell over the room, interrupted moments later by a loud entrance from Altina.

“Oh, you’re early! I was sure I’d be the first one here. Hey, hey, listen to this—there was a fish in the underground canal! A huge one! I was talking with the head cook about catching it and having it served up for our next meal. It was so big and red!”

Clarisse swiftly closed in and locked Altina in a firm embrace.

“Waah... Princess... You’re my only comfort...”

“Y-Yeah?” Altina said, dumbfounded, “As I was saying, the fish, it—”

Regis sighed. “Yeah, yeah.”

As that conversation continued, Jerome, Everard and Eric showed up. They were accompanied by Eddie as well as Felicia, who was still wearing Auguste’s clothes.

“Is it really all right for me to be here?” Felicia asked.

“Right, I should be asking that too,” Eddie added, “Am I really of any use here?”

“We don’t want you picking up work elsewhere,” answered Regis, “Were Prince Auguste’s identity to be leaked to the world, we’d be in quite the predicament, so it would be a huge help if you just stayed with us for the time being. We’ll probably need to borrow your strength eventually.”

“Say what you will. Regis, I need to... repay you for saving me,” said Felicia.

“Me? Oh, don’t worry about it... I was only able to evade Prince Latrielle’s schemes thanks to you and Sir Eddie.”

“Come to think of it, I heard you were rather good at chess, Regis. Would you care to play a game?”

“Are you serious? I’d love to.”

In part because both Regis and Felicia boasted very introverted personalities, it seemed that they shared some hobbies.

Altina tapped Regis on the shoulder. “Regis, err... what about fishing? Would you wanna go fishing?”

“Eh, fishing? Well...”

“Hah! So this is what people mean when they say that some like ’em young!”

“...I think you need to calm down, Altina. Take a seat there, and maybe think before you speak next time.”

“...Hmph.”

Bang! Jerome violently slammed the pommel of his dagger against the table before roaring “Start the meeting already!”

“Y-Yes!”

Everyone hurried to their seats.

✧ ✧ ✧

A thick fog was rolling in over Ciennbourg, a medium-sized city with a large harbor, located in the territory of Duke Touranne. It had a naval port boasting three warships and ten cannons, but maintained a favorable relationship with High Britannia across the sea. Over the last few years, the city had completely removed itself from all major wars. Though this only made its residents all the more anxious when the Empire’s Second Army had been deployed there half a month prior.

It was seven in the morning, about time for the fishermen’s ships to return to port. The weather suggested there wouldn’t be any major problems; the winds were low and the sea calm, and while the fog was starting to settle in, a large bonfire had been lit on the docks to guide boats safely back to shore.

Rodolphe stood on a wooden lookout platform at the harbor, gazing out across the sea as he did every day. He was a young man due to turn twenty-two that year. He wasn’t a soldier but a merchant, working in the port’s trade committee.

“I can’t see a thing today...”

On days like this, the risk of ships colliding with one another was especially high. In response to the poor visibility afforded by the fog, Rodolphe concentrated not on his eyes, but his ears. It was then that he noticed an unfamiliar sound. One that he could only liken to the groaning of some large animal.

Pushing its way through the ocean mist, something larger than he had ever seen before was making its way to the port.

“...What’s that?”

The dark shadow began to surface through the fog.

“A boat?”

But it had no sail. Then a shipwreck, perhaps? That didn’t seem to be the case either.

Rodolphe’s eyes opened wide as the mysterious form became clear. It was indeed a boat—a massive ship possessing a lone, thick mast, from which billowed a plume of dense black smoke.

A steam ship.

It took a brief moment for Rodolphe to recall the rumors he had heard. There were test pieces being manufactured in the Belgarian Empire, but nobody had yet seen a working model—especially not in a backwater harbor such as this one. Such technology simply hadn’t developed enough yet.

A thunderous roar boomed across the bay. A mere second later, a battleship moored at the naval port was enveloped in a dazzling light. It had exploded. Rodolphe’s lookout post was some distance away, but he was still pushed back by the tremendous blast wave.

“Gwah!?”

A merchant like Rodolphe could only watch, but the stationed soldiers were quick to react. They scrambled out of the barracks in haste, and moments later the ten cannons lining the port were firing round after round. Thunderous booms tore through the air but nothing more; the shots couldn’t reach the enemy ship.

Once again, a shell flew from the mysterious ship, and another military ship was blown to shreds. This was an overwhelming disparity in firepower. Belgaria’s vessels were being one-sidedly obliterated. What’s more, the giant ship could move around freely, not seeming to depend on the wind. It was fast. It was maneuverable.

Rodolphe stood frozen atop his lookout. Black smoke filled the air; every military ship in the port was in flames. The cannons had been destroyed as well, the men who had armed them just moments ago now nowhere to be seen. Those who tried to retaliate using their own small firearms received an unequal response in the form of powerful cannon blasts. It was as though they were facing the very wrath of God.

The Belgarian Army had been completely overrun. They no longer had any means to resist.

Then, the storm-like bombardment suddenly stopped. As the mysterious ship slowly approached, the veil of mist parted around it.

What Rodolphe saw next only confirmed what he had suspected as he watched the battle. The ship flew the flag of High Britannia—the country across the sea that was ruled by a queen.

In less than half an hour, a medium-sized port town in western Belgaria had been reduced to absolute ruin by a single ship. No post nor perch was spared from its unrelenting destruction.